Refrm, Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Boys!

Took a week and two jars of Gentle Cloud for my bottom to heal up from Evil-Lyn’s loving application of Oak Discipline. That week just about used up every excuse in the book on why I couldn’t sit on top of a horse. I had to volunteer to shovel what happens to hay and oats after a horse digests them, but I was happy for any excuse to avoid sitting on a horse for reasons I’m going to let you active readers guess at.

But now I was out of the classrooms, away from the blackboards and the artificial lighting and the incessant sounds of crime and punishment, my lily-white derriere atop a mighty stead, soaking up the glory of nature. And soak I did, as it had rained off and on that week, but now the wet was fresh, not groggy, making everything a little brighter and grow a little faster. The work clothes were even a relief from the monotony of the insipid school girl getup The Man made us wear to keep us down. Goddamn is Texas pretty.

Good day.

Ash, of course, was having the time of her life. She could jump on a horse and show it who was boss instantly, as in, without increment of time, then fly off at Kentucky Derby speed. Van Brown conferred with the nut on horse whispering or whatever. Ash even took some urine samples to perform some “homespun health tests” on the animals.

Now the two of us were away from the group, stretching the legs of two horses Van Brown wanted Ash’s opinion on. We had our horses walk aimlessly, I thought, until I noticed we were meandering towards the impregnable South Fence.

‘Ash, where are we going?’

‘Towards the South Fence.’

‘OK, Ash, I’ve been meaning to explain to you how it works.’ I cleared my throat, and prepared the lecture. ’We animals have DNA that we pass on through our children. This means that we have to mate, have a child, and raise the child until it’s self-sufficient, and the more times we do this, the more successful our life is. Now, if you keep defying Gregor like this, you’re going to be a big loser, because no man will want a woman who doesn‘t have an ass. Or is dead. You keep this up and I put it at fifty/fifty that… Hey, do you smell that?’

‘Gasoline.’ Ash kicked her horse up a trot or two, and I followed suit without thinking.

‘No, this is a different smell. This is something… yes, this smell is very familiar. It reminds me off… reminds me off… what?’ I closed my eyes and stuck my nose up in the air, poking it here and there like a snake’s tongue ’It reminds me a little of high school; the real high school, my first high school before I got sent up here, but…’

Ash nudge me.

‘Open your eyes and look.’

I did, and looked at a clearing of trees along the South Fence.

‘Boys!’ A bushel of tall, sweaty, strong, stupid, red blooded boy-men were thinning the south forest of dead trees that cause fires. Real boys. Boys that show off and are nervous to meet your dad and brag and I wanted one. I wanted to bite one on the shoulder while he slammed me against a wall and ripped my clothes off, calling me names and giving me orders then physically forcing me to obey.

I looked over my shoulder. The stable was between us and Van Brown, who demonstrated proper horse brushing techniques to the poor dumb wenches who didn’t know that, my way, here there be boys, with their shirts off lifting heavy things under the hot sun.

‘Come on.’ I said, kicking the big dumb animal I sat on to hurry up towards the big dumb animal I wanted to sit on. Ash caught up.

‘What about your DNA?’

‘I’m a romantic. Besides, unlike you I’ll scream like Hell for Gregor so I’ll only get twelve cuts of her cane so my ass wont be obliterated. Totally worth it.’ I cursed a little under my breath about my clothes. Boring work clothes. Guys love that school girl outfit crap. Probably Freudian, association with their first early stupid male instinct towards we the fairer sex. Huge advantage lost, but it couldn’t be helped.

The next minute I don’t remember well. Ash and I hid behind a thicket of thin trees on our side of the fence, got the attention of two bucks and waved them over. I was under the influence of strong muscles. It was all a Pink Floyd movie until I had to talk. One must talk the man into submission to get him to dominate you, and that required wits.

‘I want the blonde.’ I whispered.

‘Take him.’

We tried to give each other as much privacy as we could, but that wasn’t much. My guy was maybe twenty-six, tall and blonde with smart eyes and his tanned flesh was covered in sweat. It was intoxicating. My brain swam in it, making it difficult to be clever; but I forced clever words out of my face by sheer will.

‘Come closer.’ I said, idly fingering the fence.

‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m shy.’

‘Because you’re a boy. If somebody made you a man…’

I couldn’t help but hear Ash ask about engines. Idiot. Some guys like that in a girl, but this wasn’t a singles bar. I had to act fast.

‘So, anyway,’ I said, shaking Ash’s stupid words out of my head, then looking him in his high, blue eyes. ’You’re ahhhhh… a tree guy, huh? That’s cool.’

‘Only this summer.’

‘And the rest of the time?’

He looked embarrassed for a second (so cute!) then said sheepishly, ‘Well I’m getting my undergrad degree in chemical engineering this Fall and I’m trying to get into this professor’s graduate program.’

‘So why are you clearing woods?’

‘Because the boss is a friend of the professor’s barber, and if I impress the boss enough that I’m a hard worker, and he asks me my future about chemical engineering, which he has because he‘s that kind of boss, word will travel without my stamp, which means the word will ring true. It’s a long shot, but it couldn’t hurt. Also I like money.’

Ahhhh…. So that’s what it feels like to fall in love. Yes. Yes, now I see. It’s like looking in a mirror, but you see an image with blonde hair, perfect ears, and male genitalia.

Then Ash asked her guy, ‘Have any of the recent Consumer Reports rated the new LH-2060 yet?’ I wanted to kick her.

‘The Land Huggers? Yeah, like a month ago. Got a blah blah blah’

‘Anyway, I think that’s great. Listen, this fence is really getting in the way of us getting to know each other and you teaching me chemical engineering. The wall on the east side, however…’

* * *

The east wall was the Love Wall, because it was easy to get over, but impossible to escape from. Over the east wall you couldn’t go east because there was nothing but a military base for a thousand miles, and nothing kills you faster than nothing, just ask the Lunar colonists. You couldn’t go south because that ran you smack into heat and motion sensors. You couldn’t go north because that ran you by the kennel, and those Doberman Pinchers looked on girls as slow moving bags of Kibbles. And you couldn’t go west because that would lead you right back into Southdown.

Ahhh… but there was the Love Niche. It was this one spot in the walls where a boyfriend or husband from the outside could coast without his car lights(“going Stealth”, we say) up to the wall without being seen by Ivanovich or Turner walking the walls. You couldn’t escape because the only way to get your car on that road was through the military base, and they practically tear your car apart when you pass in and out. Soldiers, however, understand and tolerate the cravings of love after checking to make sure no military crime is being committed on their watch. A good man and a naughty woman sharing some hours is allowed under military law—even encouraged when duty allows. How else are warriors born?

At the Love Niche one could meet their boyfriend or husband for a couple of hours to play Parcheesi, talk about your day, the mortgage, or whatever it is couples do to wile away the long cold night.

Lauren volunteered to be my reader, the sweet little helpful thing, but I’m grooming her for upper management and it’s time to wean her off kid work. Besides, Henderson caught her chewing gum in her economics class, so she already has enough wood tracks on her enviably tiny caboose for the moment.

Speaking of class… wow, this was a long, long day. I didn’t give two dead rats for Charlemagne, my civic duty to vote for my representative to the Federal Affiliation, making a delicious yet affordable and nutritious meal for ten guests, or watching Ash gleefully do my shop work for me (I had to protect my nails). All I cared about was getting my cute butt through the day without any tell tale signs of humiliating punishment. What I wanted, oh man, what I needed were two soft and fresh buns for a chemical engineer to bruise by squeezing with his hard, big hands.

Men don’t need girly hairbrushes or canes. They have big-strong-hands, which is the only reason to keep them around I say—but what a reason.

Viva la difference!

Yet most readers wanted cash, and cash was at an all time low. The economy was good for bartering, but where the Hell was all the money going? Everyone snuck it in as fast as they could from family, friends, and old criminal or immoral compatriots, not to mention the illicit nonprofit (or low profit) charity funds set up in raunchy colleges all around the country, yet cold hard cash continued to grow as rare as unicorns.

I couldn’t use any of my cash reserve because I needed it for the mini fridge fund. Hmmm… which people want something I have even more than money? What is more valuable to a certain type of person than pure value? Who would become a willing slave, and for what?

So I gave a pack of cigarettes to a nic-ing-out newbie with a good rep. Her name was Veronica. She’s been in for a week, and she was still in cigarette withdrawal—I heard she chewed one of her fingers off. I made the deal then hit the showers extra hard, used up the last of my makeup stash, checked to make sure my bottom didn’t need any powder to cover a lingering bruise (didn’t), and adorned myself in my older uniform that I didn’t mind getting ripped off my neglected feminine body like a dead branch from an aging tree.

To whatever gods may be, please let strong hands rip clothing off me. Just set the savage loose on me, let him bite and beat me and use me like a slave. I have body for set time and I want it used.

Don’t judge me.

I was going through the final checklist before countdown when Ash knocked on my door. She came in, closed the door by leaning back on it with both hands behind her back, and took in all my glory. I was hit with that first time I saw her, coming out of Matron Gregor’s office after tough guying her way through the most painful punishment I knew, and I saw that confidence I’ve only ever seen in Evil-Lyn, except not evil. But like Lyn, striking.

‘You,’ she said against my door. ’Look great. Glowing.’ She smiled at me.

‘Nope, I told him to bring a large box of condoms, so I wont be glowing anytime soon.’

‘Yet again you risk not spreading your DNA.’

‘Ha! That’s you all over: you can’t let go. What about you? You tell your guy to meet you in the DDU or Xanadu or on the Yellow Brick Road or some other impossible place?’

‘No, it’s that time of the month.’

‘Ahhhhh… the Moon Mother is displeased with you.’ I caught myself immediately too late. My mirth clouded my mammalian brain. ’Oh, Ash, I’m sorry. That’s horrible luck and here I am…’

‘Please,’ she waved it away, dauntless as ever. ’I didn’t really like him anyway. Didn’t know a thing about that four wheeler. I can’t respect a boy who doesn’t respect his toys. Or any boy, really. They have their uses, I hope you enjoy tonight, but I’m not interested in that right now. Besides, I don’t even have time for men. Actually, I was just making sure you’re going tonight, not tomorrow night.’

‘Why?’ Weird.

‘Because those forest thinners will be working there for three days.’

Weird. ‘Yeah, but why?’

‘Tonight is Dark of the moon. Best time to get out.’

‘Yeah, I know that, Ash.’ I looked myself hard in the mirror. Other than my ears, which I would have some doctor fix someday, I was perfecto, but I needed a moment to calm myself down. Ash was an amazing girl, and I knew she was going to be my best friend while inside, maybe always (Band of Sisters and all that), but she could be a real control freak. I traded for her to be my shop partner the week before, after the birthday party, and she has been a shop dream come true and a shop pain in the ass ever since. I hear “Measure twice/cut once” in my sleep.

‘I know you know. Do me a couple of favors? Take this.’ In the mirror I could see an image of Ash tossing me something. I whirled around and snatched a little bottle out of the air. I looked at it. I looked at it again, twice as hard.

‘MACE?’

‘I don’t trust him.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he’s a human. I know you’re tough, but he’s bigger than you. And I like you, so I want you to have the edge. I’m not going to make a big thing out of this, but you’ve been a good person to know, and the most fun thing about me being inside, so far, has been knowing you.’

‘Ha.’ I pocketed the MACE and returned to my mirror. Our uniforms don’t come with pockets, so we have to sow pockets into the inside of our clothes to hide this and that. I put the MACE into my sleeve pocket, cuz I figured Mike would be least interested in my arms. Was it Mike? Mike or Mitch, whatever.

I touched up my eyes a little. ’Ha.’ I said again. ’Well, you’ve only been here a month or so, so I wouldn’t limit your experience yet. Christmas is pretty fun at Southdown. And Cinco De Mayo, too. Maria makes these…’ I avoided her gaze in the mirror while I fixed my eye liner just right because some stupid sand got in my eyes. ’What’s the other favor?’

‘Oh, a shot of your whiskey. I’m good for it.’

Well of course I was going to give her a shot of whiskey. And of course she was good for it. Libertarians can be tiresome sometimes with their Ayn Rand crap. I’d give it to her any day, but since she was having her monthlies right at the wrong time she practically had a legal right to a universal healthcare prescription of the Jack Daniels I scored off of Legrand after the Tigers won the playoffs and she had to retroactively give up booze for Lint in accords with her agreement with God. Cajuns… a superstitious lot, but good river people happy to give.

I hunched over and dug it out of my hideaway and poured her a drink. Then I poured myself one. She had a thought before downing it, thought it over for a second more, then looked at me with her wide smile.

She toasted me. ‘To getting out!’ She held her mouthwash up. I toasted back.

‘Thank you. To MACE.’ We drank.

I stored away the Jack while she set herself to go. Then she said, ’Did you see those tracks out by the South Fence?’

‘Hmm? Sure. The four wheeler.’

‘No, the bigger ones.’

‘You mean the dump trucks with the trees?’ What the Hell was she talking about?

‘No, these went right up to the fence, near that tall tree with the strong branches. None of their dump trucks went close to the fence. All the trees there were young and strong; they wouldn’t cut them down. My guy called them “keepers.”’ I turned to see my friend, her hand on the door knob, her forehead on the door, frozen.

‘Ash, what are you talking about?’

‘I don’t know. Just a thought. But I could smell gasoline around there, that day Gregor gave it to me, and men weren’t working on trees until today. Somebody with a truck drove there the night before. And two times since, because the overlapping tracks were at different depths, due to the rain. I can’t figure it.’

‘Ash…’

‘Never mind. Have fun tonight.’

Weird. Well whatever. A man would be working tonight, but not on a tree.

* * *

Veronica took her seat in the Den and puffed away in utter delight. I made the run from the Den to the east wall in less than a minute, not caring about the cruel foot ware feet pain. The shoes were cute and I needed them for my kinky schoolgirl outfit, so I ran. Thank you, Coach Van Brown. Thank you for helping me get laid for the first time in years by spanking me into a high performance athlete. Ash was right—you are a real deal Christian.

The boy could take directions. Auspicious. His truck was nuzzled into the Niche, and he had blankets, cheese and crackers, and cheep wine ready on the flat bed. He himself was dressed in a suit. A dark suit. With a red tie and a white button up shirt. How cute was that!?!?!

I presented myself first. Boys are visual. Looking at him was amusing, but I could smell him good enough a mile away to know I wanted to feel him press me down hard on those blankets while I bit his neck as a hopeless counter offensive. He could bite me wherever he wanted. But he needed to see me to get the blood flowing—that’s called animal husbandry.

‘You knock me down.’ Well, I wont yet, but that was a good start. ’Does your Reform school need a chemistry professor?’ A little more, boy, you’re right on target just stay on the bomb run. ’Because I’d forego riches to see you dressed like that everyday.’ Perfect. Ten out of ten. A+. Write a book on how to talk to women after you’re done devastating me. You wont be able to walk anyway, so you might as well sit down and write a book to help humanity procreate.

Still, we were proper. We drank wine and ate cheese and crackers like the French, except I think a Frenchman would starve before touching any of our mass produced junk food, but said Frenchman would agree in principle that we American Affiliates were doing the best we could with our base palettes to act like civilized humans who wanted to fuck each other into comas with class.

‘So,’ He said, his mouth delightfully full. ‘What are you in for?’

‘Overdue library books.’

‘Must have been some fine.’

I let him finish chewing and swallow his cheese and crackers. ‘Well, by overdue I mean stolen, by library I mean Library of the Founding Congress, and by books I mean the Declaration of Independence.’ He had to stuff a blanket into his mouth to keep down his laughter. He probably even believed me. There is something so irresistible about a stupid man.

I was pleased. Make a man laugh and he’s around your finger: the little one. I didn’t want him for life, but I wanted him tonight. I knew right then, right in my head, that I wasn’t interest in him, but I did need a him. This him was smart, found me clever, and was full of muscles. Sigh. I guess he would have to do if Bozo the Clown wasn’t around.

I crawled over the pickup truck on my hands and knees, real slow like, and put my hands on his shoulder. Then I eased myself down on his lap, making sure no pesky skirt found itself between my ass and his awesome suit. On contact I sizzled down there a second. It’s been years since a man taught me a lesson and put me in my place. My thighs, my everything, insisted I continue. I looked up at him, smiling, as I nestled myself into his lap just right. He was hard and warm, and taller than me. I raised myself. I kissed him.

Weird.

I kissed him a second time and made extra sure I did it right. He was doing everything right. Big hard hand on the back of my neck, big hard hand just above my buttocks. He was working his tongue and lips slow but forceful. He was tender yet strong and made me feel special and safe.

Nothing.

What the Hell was going on here? Can a girl forget how to get horny? No! No, that’s preposterous!

I jerked away from him. I jabbered a bit. I backed away in a panic.

He pursued.

‘Hey, wait… hold on a second. Are you ok?’ He said. I said, at the same time, ‘No. Nononononono.’ Not thinking, I pulled out the MACE, aimed, and pushed the button.

Of course I had the nozzle pointing at my face. Of course I did. How else would I point the MACE the way my luck was running? Of course I sprayed myself right in the face with MACE.

‘AAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!’

A daze. I didn’t know what was going on for at least a blind minute. I was terrified. I felt his body pressure and pain and naked fear. He had me hard on the truck floor and wasn’t letting me up. He was so much stronger than me. I struggled, but he was a better wrestler than me. When I got over the shock I was still blind, but I knew Mike (or was it Mitch?) had me penned down hard on the back of his truck, me completely helpless and my skirt up, while he poured water into my eyes. He shushed me with a slow, reassuring voice until I stopped screaming.

His medical attention took awhile. He was exact, no doubt treating me like one of his chemistry experiments. He had brought along a bottle of water, probably because of all the sweating we were supposed to do before I turned into a cold fish, and he was giving each of my bleary peepers jolt after measured jolt of heavenly water. He healed my eyes, and for that I was grateful until I was composed enough to explain myself. I’d have preferred to defend at Nuremberg.

We sat shoulder to shoulder, our feet dangling over the rear of his truck. We tapped our shoes together. We kept our hands to ourselves, and our eyes forward. Tick and then tock then another tick. And then tock and something needed to be said.

‘Well,’ I said. ‘I’m embarrassed.’

‘Don’t be. I’m guessing the mood is gone.’ Very nice. Too nice. I almost wanted him to be rude to me. At least then I’d have an excuse for the mood being gone. I could have thrown the memory off as the bad night with an asshole. But noooooooooo, I had to get Captain America.

‘I can’t explain it, Mike.’

‘You don’t have to. We want what we want.’ He gave my shoulder a Platonic pat. ‘And it’s Bobby.’

* * *

I stumbled to the Den, too beaten down emotionally to run. Screw it. The mood I was in I could use a caning. My hair was all crazy, my eyes were swollen. My clothes were torn. The newbie welp whistled out a stream of smoke and said, ’Man, that boy must have given you the time of your life. I could hear your screams from here!’

Story of my life was more like it.

I undressed myself real quite because Lauren clutched the teddy bear Dr. Featherstone in deep sleep, and because I didn’t have a man around to undress me real loud for me. Actually, I did have a man around, I just didn’t want him to rip my clothes off with his big manly teeth.

I eased into my bed and bonked my head on the pillow. I mean I bonked it. Something hard and heavy was under my pillow that bonked my head. I rubbed my head, cursing myself. I probably forgot I put a book in there or something. Whatever, I didn’t care. I moved the pillow and lay me down and felt like crying.

I didn’t, but I felt like it.

I was so confused my stomach hurt. I hated this feeling. I would have woken Lauren but I didn’t want her to see me so weak. I wanted to talk to Ash, but same thing. I was alone on this. I recited Fire and Ice by Frost in my head until I hypnotized myself into sleep. I slept well until Lauren shook me awake to tell me that Ash had escaped.