index


Message-ID: <63067asstr$1409559002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Comments: This message did not originate from the Sender address above.
	It was remailed automatically by anonymizing remailer software.
	Please report problems or inappropriate use to the
	remailer administrator at <abuse@dizum.com>.
From: Daphne Xu <daphneXU@PSEUDOnym.mixTUREminIATURE.netMUNIST>
Subject: {ASSM} "A Bikini Beach Summer" 03/21 {Daphne Xu}   (tg,magic,off-screen sex,teens,young)
Lines: 832
Date: Mon, 01 Sep 2014 04:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

To reply, cap the removes.

   A Bikini Beach Summer

   by Daphne Xu

   Part 3

   Back to Bikini Beach

   Thanks to ElrodW, Bikini Beach's creator, for invaluable comments on
this story.  The Bikini Beach universe and its principal characters are
copyright 2001 by him.

   Any comments about Bikini Beach, how it works, what it does, by
characters other than Anya or Grandmother are potentially non-canonical and
wrong.  As this story is told from a particular point of view by the
protagonist, this includes comments by the narrator.  The protagonist, and
thus the narrative, are what the protagonist believes or interprets from
what he is experiencing.  Thus some of the mechanics of BB are biased by
the protagonist's view and experiences.  Furthermore, because of the
particular viewpoint of the story, those errors often won't be corrected.
When the errors are corrected, the correction will often be disbelieved and
rejected.

   Tuesday June 24

   I had no scheduled activities the next day -- no Taekwondo, no piano
lessons, no clarinet lessons.  I woke up from a dream about the girls at
Bikini Beach, and realized I really wanted to go back to Bikini Beach and
see them again.  They met on Tuesdays and Thursdays if I recalled
correctly. I would die of embarrassment if anyone -- especially my parents
-- knew how I wanted to be with the girls again.

   Before breakfast, I sat down at the piano and practiced for half an
hour. I didn't want to be chewed out thoroughly by the piano teacher again.

   "Good work, son," said Pa as he came downstairs for breakfast.  After
breakfast as usual, we listened to the Mental Work and Ma and Pa's
recording of the Lesson.  I kept thinking about Bikini Beach and the girls,
and kept wondering how to bring it up.  I knew Pa was strongly against
Bikini Beach and despised girls in skimpy dress in general, and girls in
bikinis in particular.

   After Pa left for work, Ma asked the two of us, "What are plans for
today?"

   "How about Bikini Beach?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

   "No!" shrieked Ruth.  "Not there!"

   "That's it," answered Ma sternly.  "We're going."

   "No, we don't have to..." I tried lamely.  "I mean, if Ruth doesn't..."
I trailed off.  Why was she so vehemently against it, when she had fun last
Saturday as well?

   "No, we're going." Ma put her foot down.  "Ruth must learn that she
can't have everything her own way." I didn't like that, even though I wound
up getting what I wanted.  It left a sour taste.

   I went upstairs to get my swimming trunks and a towel, and I made sure I
brought plenty of SPF-50 sunscreen.  I was still itching and sore from
Saturday's sunburn.  Fortunately, my swimming trunks were rather long,
almost down to my knees.  I could just imagine what would have happened if
I'd worn a bikini or Speedo instead.

   The huge parking lot was considerably emptier than last Saturday, and
the ticket line was far shorter.  I kept my eyes averted, to avoid being
caught ogling the girls, as they were all very attractive.  This was a
place only for girls, although they'd accepted me last Saturday without any
problems.

   Ma handed me the pass as we went over to the turnstile After passing
through, I went to the men's changing room while Ma and Ruth went to the
women's.

   I was alone in the men's room.  I changed into my swimsuit, stuffing my
clothes in a locker, and pinning the key to my swimming trunks.  I slipped
on a pair of flip-flops and headed to the shower to rinse off.

   After the shower, I looked myself over in the mirror, and cringed at the
idea of going out in public in this bikini, and at the memory of having
done it last Saturday.  Hadn't I vowed to wear a one-piece suit instead? 
Too late now, though.  I definitely hoped Pa wouldn't find out.

   I was itching and sore all over.  I put on sunscreen, trying to reach
every bit of exposed skin possible.  Finally, with an embarrassed shudder,
I left the locker room and emerged into the sunshine of Bikini Beach.

   I had to check in with Ma and Ruth, and I was hoping to find the girls.
But I was nevertheless surprised to spot a familiar figure in the distance,
Vanessa!  Yes, next to her were Carol and Becky, standing in a group by
themselves.

   "Hey, guys!" I called out, running toward them.

   They turned as one toward me, and Vanessa shouted, "Lucy!"

   "You actually came!" said Carol, as we all embraced.

   "You got good and burnt last Saturday," added Becky, touching a
particularly burnt spot on my arm.

   I gestured at my sunscreen attached to my bikini bottom.  "I made sure
to have plenty close at hand.  So where's Alice?  Is she with you?"

   "I haven't seen her," said Vanessa.  "I hope she comes."

   "I have to go check in with Ma," I said.  "You'll wait for me, right?"

   "We'll go with you," said Vanessa.

   We entered the ladies' changing room, and in short order spotted Alice.
She was in a bikini this time, in the middle of slopping sunscreen on.

   "Hey, Alice!" Shouted Carol.

   "So you've decided to risk wearing a bikini again," said Becky.

   "I felt uncomfortable, out of place, being the only one in a onepiece,"
replied Alice.

   "Oh, you shouldn't have," said Vanessa.  "Not on our account at least.
It's perfectly fine to be different from the rest of us.  Differences are
to be celebrated."

   "I was wishing I'd brought my own one-piece instead," I added.  "When I
think about it, I feel awfully naked in this.  And Pa hates girls wearing
bikinis, or going around in skimpy clothing."

   "So why didn't you?" asked Becky sassily.

   "Um, I can't remember," I answered, a little disturbed.  "I guess I just
didn't think about it.  Anyway, I need to find Ma."

   Ma and Ruth were only a couple aisles away.  Ma was putting sunscreen on
Ruth, who was in a one-piece swimsuit this time.  Again, I regretted not
bringing mine.

   Ma greeted me with, "I see you've met your new friends, Lucy.  Hello,
girls."

   "What?  Oh!" They'd followed me.

   "Hello, Mrs.  Cuttington," answered Vanessa.  The other three all said,
"Hi."

   "Go, have fun with your friends, Lucy.  Meet us -- oh, how about at the
Tiki Hut this time -- around noon," said Ma.  "It's in the South Sea
Adventures." That was easy.  "We'll spend some time together after lunch,
though."

   We were waiting in line for the Spillway Slide, when Carol brought up
high school in the fall.

   "Are you trying to depress us or something?" pouted Becky.

   "To tell the truth, I'm scared," I admitted.  "Classes will be hard."

   "And we'll be the lowest of the low, as freshmen," added Carol.

   "They'll be mean to us, and we can't talk back," said Becky.

   Alice was silent throughout, as was Vanessa.  Glancing over at Alice, I
saw that she was about to cry, just barely holding it in.

   Vanessa took her in her arms, and she opened up and cried.  I just
froze; I couldn't take it.  Becky froze too, while Carol went and hugged
her.  Vanessa kept whispering soothing sounds in her ear.  When Vanessa led
Alice out of the line, she said, "You three go on.  We'll be okay."

   "No way!" exclaimed Becky.  "We're all with you!" She glanced at us and
we nodded, following them out of the line to a place to sit and relax.

   I felt utterly distressed.  What the heck happened?

   "Should I tell them?" Carol asked Vanessa and Alice.

   I thought I saw a subtle nod of Alice in Vanessa's chest, and Vanessa
nodded to Carol, "Go ahead."

   "Alice's cousin was raped and murdered.  Shortly after high school let
out for the summer."

   I could feel my mouth working soundlessly.  I felt distinctly nauseated,
about to collapse.  I vaguely noticed Becky bursting into tears, and push
by Carol and hug Alice.  I think I fainted.

   I came to, and burst into tears myself.  "Oh, Alice, Alice, Alice!"

   "Jill was sixteen.  She was going to be a senior next year.  She was a
cheerleader." Alice kept talking her cousin, tears running down her face,
for the next half hour, as we listened.  "She skipped eighth grade and went
into high school a year early."

   "Alice was sent here," Carol told us, "to escape some of the distress
and help her recover.  She was close to her cousin."

   "Did they catch the killer?" Becky asked.

   "Yeah," answered Alice.  "The police caught him and made him confess to
it.  He's going to prison, or will die."

   I was a little bit relieved.  At least they caught him.

   We lay about the rest of the morning, not in the mood for fun and
excitement.  I ate lunch with Ma and Ruth.  Ruth was quite excited and
chattering, and I briefly wondered what made her so opposed to Bikini Beach
this morning.  Mostly, I just let her chatter on, caught up in my own
thoughts.

   We spent some time together, mostly relaxing and napping for an hour. 
Then I rejoined the girls.  Things were better that afternoon, and we had a
little fun on the water rides.  But then Ruth and I had to leave at five
with Ma because Ma had to go to a weekly meeting that evening.  We girls
shared a tearful goodnight, hugging each other.  "You okay?" I asked Alice
and she nodded somberly.

   Back home, Ma started dinner while Ruth and I showered and dressed up.
We always had to dress properly for dinner.  Ruth excitedly told Pa about a
prize she had won at Bikini Beach.  Pa just grunted; he hated anything to
do with bikinis.

   I practiced piano for half an hour after dinner.  Ma went out to her
meeting with "Firm Love" or something like that.  After practicing piano, I
went to my room to practice my clarinet.  I kept thinking about my hunk of
a clarinet teacher, Brandon Oregon, and I wanted to play extraspecial-well
for him.  After working through the exercises in Klose, I played some
dreamy music, eyes closed, Brandon's face floating in my mind.

   At one point, memories of the day intruded, and I felt guilty about such
selfish fantasizing when a friend had been horribly wronged.  Crying, I
automatically took apart and cleaned my clarinet, putting it away, as I
kept thinking about Alice and her cousin's murder.

   Eventually, I went to bed haunted by the murder.

   Wednesday, June 25

   I woke up the next morning utterly distressed about Alice's cousin being
murdered.  I tried to imagine Ma being murdered, or Pa, or even my baby
sister Ruth!  I don't think I could stand it.

   I didn't know my own cousins very well, but I heard that in some
families, cousins were closer than brothers and sisters.  Suppose one of
the girls at Bikini Beach were murdered -- could I take that?

   I also felt conflicted yet guilty about having thinking exclusively of
the scary experiences of criminal suspects with police, while ignoring what
the victims went through.  But what if the suspect were innocent?  It was
just so confusing.  What did Alice say?  Something about making him
confess? Oh, I hope not!

   I got up finally and showered.  My skin was beginning to peel from last
Saturday's sunburn.  At least yesterday, I'd used plenty of sunscreen. 
Carol rubbing it into my back had been wonderful.

   Listening to the Mental Work and the Lesson, I kept thinking about Alice
and her murdered cousin.  I wondered if this preoccupation with death was
aggressive mental suggestion.  I felt comforted when the Mental Work
recited Mrs.  Eddy's version of the 23rd Psalm, with "the Lord" replaced by
"Divine Love" or just "Love." "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for [Love is] with me."

   I tried to listen more to the Lesson, and understand that sin, disease,
and death were unreal and illusion, and that the murder never really
happened -- it was Error.  "The exterminator of Error is the great truth
that God, good, is the only Mind." Error had to be exterminated -- a
powerful unreality that we had to stand porter and guard against.

   Wednesday was mostly a free day for Ruth and me.  I managed to get
myself to practice a half hour on the piano, and I also played some random
scales and songs on the clarinet.  I felt too lazy to get out the Klose and
work at those difficult exercises.  Then I joined Ruth and Daisy in a game
of Life.

   I had Taekwondo at one, and Ruth had ballet.  Both of us dressed up at
home, me in my TKD uniform and Ruth in her leotard and tights, and a
wraparound skirt she wore for her recent uncharacteristic modesty.

   As we left the house together, I reached out to take Ruth's hand.  She
looked at me out the corner of her eye with an expression that clearly
said, "Whaddya think you're doing?!" and whipped her hand away.  Humph!

   It was a mile or so walk, and I left her at her ballet studio while I
crossed the mall to the TKD dojang.  I picked her up again afterwards, and
we walked home together.

   Back at home that afternoon, Ma was out somewhere, and I was back in my
ordinary jeans and tee-shirt, reading.  I got up for something, and heard a
"Hah!" from down in the basement.  That sound, common in TKD, was puzzling
coming from Ruth; I wondered what was up.

   I went partway down the stairs to see what was up.  I saw both Ruth and
Daisy doing a front kick, a roundhouse kick, and a punch -- just like what
we did in TKD.  Ruth was in a tank-top and shorts, while Daisy was wearing
a short dress.  Ruth's moves seemed quite good, while Daisy was more
clumsy. It seemed like Ruth was teaching Daisy.

   They both immediately spotted me.  "Are they teaching you that in
ballet, or something?" I asked Ruth.

   "Nope.  Come down and join us, Luke!" said Ruth excitedly.

   "I already did Taekwondo today and I'm a bit tired and sore, and I'm not
dressed for it now," I said, indicating my jeans.

   "That's not a problem," she replied.  "Just take'em off.  You *are*
wearing underwear, right?" she added with a giggle.

   Daisy echoed her giggle.  "Luke, I'm showing my underwear when I do
this. I'm sure you can, too."

   "Uh, no thanks.  I'll take a pass on that." Ruth and Daisy laughed
further as I made a hasty, embarrassed exit.

   Unfortunately, it was Wednesday.  That meant we had to go to the
Wednesday Evening Meeting at Church, an intolerably boring hour except for
the hymn-singing.  I had to dress up in my ill-fitting suit again.  Ruth
looked great in her dress.

   The service opened with a hymn, followed by the First Reader reading
from the Bible and "Science and Health" -- his own readings, not the
Lesson-Sermon.  I tuned out and thought back to Bikini Beach, the girls,
the fun, the affectionate hugging and touching, Alice's cousin being
murdered.  That last was a downer, haunting all else.

   My musings ended when the First Reader announced the moment of silent
prayer followed by the Lord's Prayer.  After that, we had the second hymn,
a familiar one by Mrs.  Eddy, but with the adult music.

   The second half, longer than the first half, was the most boring part.
The audience was "invited," in the words of the First Reader, "To give
testimonials of healing and comments about Christian Science." I slithered
down to fantasize more about the girls, when a man stood up.

   At the First Reader's nod, he spoke.  "I am exceedingly grateful to Mrs.
Eddy for her teachings on Christian Science.  As the sign says, `Divine
Love always has met, and always will meet, every human need.' I have been
blessed by Divine Love with numerous healings and demonstrations.

   "Several years back, I experienced a claim of facial paralysis; the
right side of my face wouldn't move.  A doctor suggested a couple of drugs,
but told me there was nothing they could really do.  Rejecting the drugs, I
turned to `Science and Health.'

   "`What is Man?' `Man is not matter.  He is not made up of brain, blood,
bones, and other material elements.  The scriptures inform us that Man is
made in the image and likeness of God.' I understood that God cannot be
paralyzed, and Man in God's image cannot be.  I could never be paralyzed in
reality.

   "To make a long story short, after a couple weeks of Knowing the Truth
about Man, I realized that my face was perfectly whole, perfectly mobile. I
am so grateful for Mrs.  Eddy and Christian Science." The man sat down, and
the First Reader nodded with a smile.

   I'd never given a testimonial myself, and I kept dreading the time when
I had to stand up and give one.  That prospect was scary, terrifying.  A
couple more persons stood up and gave testimonies.  Then, after a few
minutes of silence, the First Reader said, "Let us close this service by
singing hymn number 97." It was another vaguely familiar hymn, a nice
haunting one.

   The service ended at that point.  We listened to the organist playing
random music and waited for Ma to chat and gossip with a few other women,
then finally went home.  I dozed off in the car.  When I got home, I went
straight to my room, got out of that suit and into my pajamas, and went
straight to bed even though it was an hour before my bedtime.

   Even so, I had trouble falling asleep.  I kept thinking about the four
girls, and couldn't wait to join them again.  I found myself on my stomach,
pillow rotated longways under me, excitedly imagining myself with the four
girls all naked, me looking at them, touching, kissing, licking...  Oh,
what a scene!  I was moving my knees up and down, rocking back and fourth,
breathing in gasps, feeling ever more excited, when a wonderful paralyzing
buzzing sensation swept over me, and my dick pulsated and spurt goo into my
underpants and pajamas.

   I felt very guilty afterwards, thinking about them like that, especially
Alice with her murdered cousin.  And I couldn't bear for Ma or anyone to
find that mess in my underwear, or find out that I thought and did such
things at night.  I got up out of bed, opened the door to check -- nobody
visible.  I crossed the hallway to the bathroom, took a washcloth and tried
to clean everything up.

   I ended up with distinctly wet pajama bottoms, with still a little bit
of stickiness remaining.  I changed into a clean set of pajamas, and
returned to bed.  I fell asleep shortly.

   Thursday, June 26

   All through the morning activities, I kept hoping and praying that we'd
return to Bikini Beach.  I didn't want to ask right out; I was terrified
they would guess how eager I was to see the girls again.  Anyway, after Pa
left for work, Ma announced that we were going to Bikini Beach.  I was so
excited and elated!  I quickly wrapped my swimming trunks and sunscreen in
a towel and went downstairs, all ready to go.

   Ruth emerged slowly from her room with her stuff, and stopped at the top
of the stairs.  I went back up and said, "You don't seem very excited."

   "I can't say why, Luke.  Literally," she answered.  "Won't let me." Who
wouldn't let her?  Or what?  "I don't think I could have said that if I'd
said, `Bikini Beach'" Ruth continued, apparently as explanation -- but it
didn't help.

   "You seem happy and excited when we get there and meet your group of
friends," I pointed out.

   "Yeah, that's the good part of Bikini Beach.  That and the water rides.
Then there's what it does to our minds.  That may be partly why we make
friends so quickly, and are so excited about our friends.  I can tell,
you're excited at meeting your new friends there."

   I blushed.  I wasn't that obvious, was I?  I wasn't even sporting an
erection now.

   "Hey, it's cool, Luke.  You're just one of the girls when you're with
them, right?" said Ruth with a smirk.

   That was actually what it was like.  I was one of the girls -- not
literally, of course.  But the way I remembered it, I hardly thought of my
maleness at all when I was actually with them.  But how could nineyear-old
Ruth say something like that?  It sounded almost adult.

   "Luke!  Ruth!  Are we ready to go?" Ma called from downstairs.

   "Coming, Ma," I called out.  We went down together.

   At Bikini Beach, as soon as I showered, I realized damn!  I'd completely
forgotten again.  I was going to wear a one-piece swimsuit.  I was so
scared that one of these days, Pa would catch me.  I definitely looked hot,
looking at myself in the mirror, but that was another problem: I was
exposing myself practically naked to the world.  Giving into sensuality and
material sense -- so contrary to Christian Science.  This was a form of
Error.

   One other thing kept bugging me.  Worrying about it was due to the
insidious influence of Error, of course, but I didn't seem to have the
mental strength to deny Error.  Lots of stray hair stuck out around my
bikini bottom.  The other girls didn't have that problem.  I'd peeked a
number of times.

   "Hey, Lucy!" Alice called me over as I exited the changing room.  I ran
over and hugged Vanessa, Alice, and Becky.  It was so wonderful seeing them
again.

   "Vanessa!  Alice!  Becky!  Where's Carol?" I looked them up and down,
glancing quickly at their crotches.  Yep, perfectly clean of hair.  I was
embarrassed anew at my own exposed hairy bottom.  Becky caught my eye, and
I blushed, wondering if she'd caught me focusing on the girls' crotches. 
She winked.

   I saw Ruth coming out of the changing room with some of her friends, all
excitedly talking.  They all ran off.  She'd lost her reservations about
Bikini Beach for now.

   Carol joined us shortly, and we made our way across the water park to a
large pool with heavy surf.

   WHUMP!  came the sound at the far end, and a wave left the far end and
rolled toward us as we dashed into the water.  The wave was ten feet high
at the far end, when first generated.  It was somewhat smaller when it
reached the floats limiting where swimmers could swim, and a lot smaller by
the time it reached us.  It broke right over me, dumping me down.  I
clambered back up shrieking and laughing.  The water was wonderfully cool,
with the hot weather we had.

   After a few more waves, I announced, "Hey guys, I'm rather tired.  I'm
going out for a while, okay?" The girls joined me as I left the pool.

   We headed toward a group of mostly empty beach chairs, occupied by a
lone -- and lonely looking -- girl in a one-piece swimsuit.  She was Asian,
likely younger than us, and looked sad as we approached.

   "Hey darlin'" Vanessa greeted the girl.  "You look rather down." Vanessa
sat down next to the girl, as the girl began crying, and drew her into her
bosom.  They were whispering, and I couldn't tell what they were saying.  I
was curious, but Carol touched my shoulder and said, "Let's back off and
leave them alone together." So Carol, Becky, Alice, and I found places a
little ways off to relax and soak up some rays.

   Too soon, it was time for lunch with Ma and Ruth.  "I'll return soon, I
promise." We had a light but expensive lunch -- Ma paid for it without
complaining, of course.  Afterwards, Ruth had to return to the dressing
room for something, and Ma and I followed.

   In the dressing room, I spotted a vending machine selling razor blades
among other intimate objects that I blushed at.  Very embarrassed, I asked,
"Ma?  Could I have some change?  I need to get something."

   "What do you need?"

   "It's...  um." I was feeling really embarrassed about wanting to shave
my pubic region.  I couldn't say it; I was glancing down.

   "Lucy, dear, you know you don't have to be embarrassed about anything
with your Ma.  You can ask me anything, and discuss anything.  I agree,
your legs, arms, and underarms do need shaving.  Get several razors." She
handed me some money and I was relieved that she'd missed my primary
concern.

   I got two razors from the machine, and also some lotion.  I found a
private shower stall and removed my bikini.  Ma was right; I needed to
shave my arms just a little bit, and my armpits.  I finished them in short
order, then set about removing the hint of hair from my legs.  I told
myself that would make my legs look a notch -- perhaps subliminally --
better at my clarinet lesson tomorrow.  My clarinet teacher, Brandon
Oregon, a man in his twenties -- probably twice my age -- was such a hottie
and a hunk.

   Shaving my legs led directly to my crotch.  Of course, Brandon would
never see the difference there, but anyone here at Bikini Beach would.  I
began intending to leave my hair under my bikini intact, but as I
progressed, it never looked or felt right.  I wound up shaving it all off,
except for isolated patches right between my legs.

   I definitely felt cooler and crisper once I finished and put my bikini
back on.  Unfortunately, I nicked myself a few times, and it itched down
there.  But at least I no longer had hair around my bikini.

   I was feeling rather shy and embarrassed about meeting Ma and Ruth now,
but Ma said, "I'm happy you're taking more of an interest in your
appearance, Lucy.  Your friends at Bikini Beach seem to be a good influence
on you."

   For a moment, I wondered at that, about paying attention to the material
aspect in Christian Science.  Then I recalled something in "Science and
Health" where Mrs.  Eddy refuses to tolerate a speck of dirt on someone.

   Then I went back out to find my friends.  "Over here, Lucy!" Becky
called out before I saw them, in line for a water slide.  The new girl was
with them, and seemed better now.

   "Our new friend is Jen," Carol told me.  "Jennifer Lam, right?"

   "Yes," she answered softly, shyly.

   "Hello." I took both her hands, wondering if hugging her would be
appropriate.  Then I brushed aside the worry and hugged her to me.  She
wrapped her arms tightly around me and we stood a moment before separating.

   "A friend of hers is in jail for murder," Becky told me.

   "But Tim couldn't have done it.  He's not like that.  They must have
framed him!" Jen burst into tears.  Vanessa went to console her.

   "Becky Miura," said Alice.  "You might consider thinking just a bit
before running your mouth."

   Becky burst in tears.  "I'm so sorry.  I know I'm bubble-headed I just
can't help it."

   "Well, you just might focus on sealing your lips, unless you want them
sealed the hard way," said Alice mercilessly.

   Becky turned away and leaned against a pole, continuing to cry.  I
couldn't bear to see her cry further, so I went and put my arms around her.
I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just stood and held her until she
stopped crying.

   We continued spending the afternoon together, but it wasn't very happy
overall for us.  Near the end of the afternoon, we were close to our usual
happy selves.  Even Jen was chatting and laughing on occasion, having fun
with the rest of us.

   Back home, as usual I wondered if Pa would find out I'd been wearing a
bikini all day.  I found some Post-Its and put a note on my bikini when I
hung it in the closet, to bring a one-piece swimsuit to Bikini Beach.  I
didn't want to keep disobeying Pa and fearing being caught.  I labeled the
note, "IMPORTANT!!"

   Ruth and I had to shower and dress up for dinner.  In my shower, I
inspected my noon handiwork down there.  I looked almost like a little
girl. The nicks were healing nicely.

   After dinner, I changed back into jeans and tee-shirt and practiced on
my piano.  After a half-hour of practice, I heard Ruth down in the
playroom, and thought I'd join her.  Again, like yesterday afternoon, she
was kicking and punching the air.  What was it called again?  Oh yeah,
Taekwondo.  How bizarre, girls actually wanting to fight and kick.

   "Come on down," Ruth said.  "I have to be rather quiet about this when
Ma's home." I noticed she wasn't doing any of the shouts she did yesterday.
"I'd like to attend Taekwondo class, but Ma would never allow it."

   "No, of course not.  How can a girl actually want to do that kind of
thing," I said.  "Fight?  Kick?  If you were a boy, I'd call it a macho
thing."

   "And if you were a boy," retorted Ruth, "You'd do it yourself.  Instead
of ballet."

   I couldn't imagine being male.  "Good thing I'm a girl then, right?"

   "Ballet's okay, I guess." Okay?  Just okay?  She GUESSES?  She
continued, "I never imagined saying that.  Only a couple weeks ago the idea
of ballet would have been wonderful -- I mean, I never thought I would
demean ballet." What the heck was she saying?!  "No-no-no!  It's scrambling
my words!" She spun around with a hard kick to the air.  "Take that, Bikini
Beach!" Another hard kick.  "Take that, Ma!" Another hard kick, and she
rolled to the floor crying and curling up.

   "Ruth!" I knelt down and took her in my arms, sitting down back so her
head was in my lap.  She continued weeping.  It didn't sound like she'd
hurt herself falling; it was something else.  Something bizarre was going
on, and I had no idea what.  Whatever it was, Ruth was distressed and I had
to comfort her.

   After a couple minutes, she rose up and said, "I'm okay now.  Thank you,
Lucy." We went upstairs together, meeting Ma on the way down.

   "I heard something," said Ma.

   "Everything's okay," I told Ma.  I knew from Ruth's acts earlier, that
Ruth didn't want me to tell Ma anything.

   "You sure?"

   "Yes, we're fine," answered Ruth.

   We went to our rooms.  I changed into my nightgown, and got out my
clarinet to practice.  Tomorrow, I had clarinet lesson, and I wanted to do
my absolute best for Brandon.  Ah, Brandon...

   Friday, June 27

   There they were, all my girlfriends: Chinese Carol, Tall Black Vanessa,
Short Redheaded Alice, Japanese Becky, even the new Chinese girl Jen, all
waiting for me at a pool in Bikini Beach, all gorgeously clad in bikinis
and flip-flops of various colors and designs.

   We ran into each others' arms in a mass group hug, pressing up skin
against skin.  Flush with excitement, I kept my arms around two of them and
turned toward Ma and Pa behind me.  "Pa, these are my Bikini Beach
friends," I began, when I realized how my dick was tenting my bikini bottom
-- Oh God, I was introducing bikini-clad girls to Pa, and I was wearing a
bikini bottom, practically naked myself, sporting a boner!  Big trouble,
horror, panic!

   I woke up gasping, finding myself in bed, my dick tenting the sheet and
blanket the way it did my bikini(?!) in the dream.  I waited for my
breathing and heartbeat to slow down, then got up and used the bathroom,
returning to bed much relieved.

   I snuggled back down in bed and promptly fell fast asleep.

   I woke up in the morning absently scratching an itch just above my dick.
My dick and balls were now hairless, I could feel.  I cringed.  For some
reason I couldn't fathom in the least, I'd shaved myself yesterday at
Bikini Beach.  Arms, legs, underarms, and most of all my dick and balls and
everything around.  I guess I'd thought it'd be cool to look more like my
girlfriends there.

   I tossed my blankets off, got out of bed, dropped my PJs and looked down
there.  Yuck!  My dick and balls were all wrinkled, shriveled up, bare, a
dingy puce-pink, missing all the surrounding hair.  Stray hairs protruded
all around.  Whatever possessed me to do such a thing?!

   It was just so ridiculous.

   After piano practice, on the way to breakfast, I saw Ruth, she turned
her head away and down, with an embarrassed smile.  I wondered if she
somehow detected my shaved groin, but then I remembered our
uncharacteristic emotional moment together last night.  I felt a little
embarrassed, but also somehow happy at the memory.

   During breakfast, and listening to the Mental Work, I kept dreading that
Ma or Pa would somehow detect that I'd shaved my crotch.  It was
nerve-wracking During the Mental Work, when it reached the mental
malpractice part, I glanced over at Ruth and yes, she was glaring.

   "Stop making faces, Ruth," said Pa curtly.

   After the Lesson, Pa left for work and I got out my clarinet for another
practice session before that day's lesson.  The clarinet method book,
Klose, was thick and very tough -- even the early sections.  Mr.  Oregon,
the clarinet teacher, was overall nicer and friendlier than Mrs.  Prudence,
and a lot younger.  In his twenties, I thought.  But clarinet lessons were
still rather scary.

   Daisy came over to see Ruth while I was still practicing.  I was going
to spend the morning reading, but Daisy wanted me to join them in a game of
Careers.  Initially annoyed, I got caught up in the game and had lots of
fun.

   Eventually, I had to get ready for clarinet lessons.  I changed into my
TKD uniform, packed my clarinet and Klose, and headed out for the mall. 
The clarinet lessons were held in Shandy's Music.  I arrived early and
half-listened to the saxophone lesson before mine as I put my clarinet
together.  I fingered a couple Klose exercises while waiting.

   The saxophonist came out, a girl perhaps my age, followed by Mr. 
Oregon. "Hello, Luke," he greeted me.  "Prepared for Taekwondo as usual, I
see." Like the piano teacher, he'd changed a bit upon my starting TKD, but
the difference was subtle and I couldn't identify it.  i As the lesson
began, my hairless crotch stood out in my mind, although eventually the
lesson itself pushed the thought out.  We played a hard eighth-note
syncopation duet that I'd worked on quite a bit this past week, and I
actually played the hard part fairly well -- cracking up only at the easier
end of the passage.

   "You've definitely worked on that," said Mr.  Oregon.  "I think we'll
only need another week."

   We were on the E and B major scales.  They felt unnatural because we had
to use the wrong pinky finger for low E and the B -- right-left-right was
required for B-C#-D# and E-F#-G#.  I was beginning to get used to the odd
fingering though.  We finished with a medley of old American folk songs,
including "My Darling Clementine" and "Old Folks at Home."

   The lesson ended with plenty of time to walk to the TKD gym.  Again, I
hoped and prayed that nobody would notice anything different about my
crotch.  Then I got caught up in kicking, punching, and shouting.

   After TKD, I walked over to Ruth's ballet school.  To my surprise, she
was already waiting outside, back in her usual uniform, pink leotard and
white tights without the wrap-around dress, chatting with a couple others,
a boy and a girl.

   "There's your brother," said the boy.

   "Your brother's so cool!  My big brother would never do anything like
meet me after ballet and take me home," said the girl.

   "Hi Luke!" she said.  "Seeya guys!" I wondered, was Ruth back to her old
self now?  We started off together, and I reached to take her hand, and she
whipped it away again with that look.  Oh, well.

   As we started the mile-walk home, Ruth said, "We ended early today
because I confronted the ballet instructor, when she snapped at a student
once too often.  We wound up in a stand-off, with me in fighting stance
ready for a front side kick followed by a roundhouse kick.  During the
standoff, I told her about Stockholm Syndrome, explaining the success of
her meanness to students.  You've heard of Stockholm Syndrome?"

   "Um, no I haven't." Ruth was being strange again.

   "Well, it's what happens when someone controls someone else, sometimes
through pain or threats or verbal abuse.  After a few days, the victim
turns to the abuser's side.  It was named after some crime in Stockholm,
Sweden, where the criminals took hostages.  The hostages sided with the
criminals in the prosecutions, and one of them even married one."

   Fancy words from a nine-year-old girl.  How did she come to know all
this?  Or was there anything to it?  I didn't know what to say.

   We walked on in silence, and then I casually said, "It seems that
another person has joined my friends at Bikini Beach.  Vanessa tells us
that Bikini Beach was therapeutic -- something like that.  Helping people
who've had bad things happen."

   Ruth looked as if she was about to say something, but kept silent.  I
continued, "A dear friend of the new girl was jailed for murder.  Not only
that, Alice's cousin was r--" I stopped, embarrassed mentioning rape,
remembering that this was my nine-year-old sister.  "Murdered.  They caught
someone and made him confess.  I hope they didn't get the wrong man." I
spat that last out in a burst of anger.

   "You were about to say, `Raped and murdered,' weren't you?" said Ruth in
a bitter tone.

   "Yeah." This was getting really uncomfortable.

   "What was her name, do you know?" asked Ruth.

   "Alice's cousin, the victim?"

   "Yeah."

   "Alice told us, but I don't remember.  Sixteen-year-old girl, went to
the school I start this fall.  Cheerleader."

   "Her name wouldn't be, by any chance, Jill, would it?" asked Ruth after
a moment.

   "Now, that you mention it, I think Alice mentioned that name." Now how
would Ruth know anything about it?

   Ruth faced forward, biting her lip.  She seemed to be thinking rather
hard.  We said nothing further until we got home.

   Ma was doing laundry.  "Both of you, you're just in time.  Change, and
I'll wash your things." We went to our rooms and I slipped out of my TKD
uniform and put on a bathrobe.

   Carrying my uniform with me, I knocked at Ruth's door.  "Ruth, I'll take
your stuff downstairs."

   "Just a minute!" I heard a little motion, and Ruth, also in a bathrobe,
opened the door and handed me her leotard and tights.  "Thanks a lot, Luke.
I'll only take a minute or so in the shower."

   I delivered the dirty stuff to Ma, and returned, ready to take my
shower. Ruth came out wearing her usual tee-shirt and shorts.  She dashed
downstairs and shouted out, "Ma I'm going over to Daisy's house now!"

   I showered and dressed in jeans and tee-shirt, and went down.  "Ma, is
it okay if I go to the library?"

   "Yes you may.  Be back by 5:30 for dinner."

   At the library, I thought of finding the politics section, but I started
fuming horribly again about coerced false confessions.  Instead, I went to
find "Forbidden Flowers." That was a lot more pleasant, a lot more exciting
even.  I was deep in the aisles, yet I kept looking around.  I knew I would
be in deep trouble if I were caught.  I turned to the "Gena" fantasy,
flushing and breathing heavily, yet in terror of being caught.

   Eventually, it was time to head home.  When I arrived, Ma said, "Ruth's
having supper with Daisy and spending the night.  It's just the three of us
here now."

   After supper, Ma and Pa watched some old movie on video in Pa's office,
while I went to my room to practice clarinet.  I practiced a halfhour of
piano as well.  Monday was approaching, I told myself.

   As I lay in bed for the night, I kept thinking about the girls.  I tried
to fantasize hugging the girls, seeing them naked, and having sex with
them, but reality kept intruding.  Alice's cousin raped and murdered. 
Jen's friend in jail for murder.  I wondered if any of the others also had
a dark secret background they were escaping from.

   I was very lucky, I told myself.  Nothing bad happened to myself or my
family.  Perhaps Christian Science actually had something to do with it.
   It took forever to fall asleep.

------- ASSM Moderation System Notice--------
This post has been reformatted by the ASSM
Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+