Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 {Author's Note: This is Psychological Fiction.  Which is to say it posits a
mental complex outside the established Diagnoses.  They don't have a word
for it, it may be pathologically impossible, but entertaining to read...  I
can hope.  Likewise, any discrepancies probably reflect different versions
with obvious self bias.  Try to take the word for the non-delusional PoV,
where available.}
   Meghan {FF Saph Nude NS.}
   "Ihn!" She pushes herself out of the pool.  Deep end, reaches out to the
jump-off board for her towel.  "Uhn!" Heroine of the swim team.  Long,
lean, wet.  She pulls her shower-cap off, and the dry waves swing out, the
same color as her eyes.  "Mmmh..."
   I got up, brushed out my skirt, and skipped down the bleachers. 
"Meghan, right?" I didn't over-enunciate the H.
   She nodded.  "Yes?" She tucked it in over her hips.
   "I'm Amber," I heard you were gay, "and." She doesn't grip my hand, and
I don't kiss her's.  I let her hold it a little while, then let it fall. 
No use beating around the bush.  If she had one.  Hairless, except that
distinctive cut, for the racing cap.  Like a greyhound, except brown, I
guessed.  Her nipples relaxed.  She blushed!
   "I don't know what you heard," She wiggled her finger in an ear, "But
what are you a freshman?"
   I nodded.  Almost 14.
   "Hmh," cute grunt to herself, "And I'm not going to deny it, but huh!"
She didn't finish that thought, out loud.
   "I heard you came out to another girl, and she blabbed it all over the
neighborhood." I followed her back to the gym.  Or under them.  She wasn't
in my class, senior.  My league?  You'll never know until you sign up.  I
never was an extra-curricular activity kind of girl.
   "Yeah," she rubbed the back of her neck, "And they've been pretty hard
on me since, but." ...
   "Mhm?" Breathy voice.  Not like out of breath, she turned around, and
looked down.
   "Where you going to swim, or something?"
   "Oh no," I let go of a curl, "I'm here to see you.  Because I'm gay?"
Sigh, "I'm not hitting on you, or anything, but you're older, and probably
know how to handle this sort of, stuff better." She nodded.  Turning away,
she slipped the straps off of her shoulders, and pushed the towel off when
the suit got there.  She didn't cover herself, or show off, just grabbed
her shirt, and shrugged into it.  I let out that breath, and took another
one.  "Hm!  I could really use a friend, a real one, who can understand
it." Should have rehearsed that better.  "You're not going to take a
shower?" These can come right off.
   "You're really flirty, though," she turned back, blushing again.
   "Yeah," I admit it, "Sorry."
   Boxer shorts, and shorts.  I'm a little disappointed.  Dockers, really?
Shorts shorts, not cutoff, and hemmed, 5th pocket on the side, but not like
a cargo-pocket.  "I have a better shower at home," she shrugged.  The
busses were long gone, "I usually jog back anyway." At least it wasn't
sweat, or a track-suit.  Like winter-through spring, she doesn't live far.
   "I didn't make any other plans," I followed her.  Soccor field, trail,
rubber chips...
   "You're really aggressive."
   "Well you're really shy," I toughed her arm, "I like that, but somebody
has to make the moves.  Do you want to do it?" Her hair shook.  No bangs,
really, but it's longer in the front.  She sweeps it back.  Her eyes would
be unremarkable, brown if they weren't exactly the same color.  The sun
hits them, but she squints.  "We'll take our time." At the bottom of the
steps, I take her hand, and lead her down the trail.
   She's a good girl, I can tell.  Now that she's out, she's been waiting,
patiently to get out of here.  And swimming, she's the best at that, will
probably go State again, or possibly whatever's after that...  Tall, long
in the water with broad hands, and big feet.  "What size are your shoes?"
Why doesn't she play Basketball?
   "15s, in girls.  These are men's 11s." She tucks her bangs behind her
ears, again.  I take her hand, again.  Her dad's a spire, and her mom isn't
short.  I'm petite, I accept that.
   "Giantism?" I guess.
   "My pediatrician said I might have some Adrenal Hyperplasia, whatever
that means.  I'm hormonal, I don't need any pills for it," But or Yet?
   Not really used to talking.  Try to remember the last person I'd seen
her talking to.  Introverted, got that.
   "Well I like it," I'm a little jealous, "You're pretty, and graceful,
and I'm..." Finish that for me?
   "Young," she nodded.  "What?  You are, I'm sure you'll grow more, but
right now..."
   "Uhn!" I want to strangle her, for the first time, "Right, we can work
up to whatever, but for right now we can wait.  Together." She finally got
it.  People, it's not just her.  I can do it.  Well, but it's so much work.
Keeping everything straight, track of everyone, my face on.  The image of
me, or all of them with everyone involved.  She's off in the closet
somewhere, and lonely.  I especially like watching her, watching.  Who she
sighs at, hand bent back under her chin, a breeze blowing her hair.  I
followed her up to her room.  "I have a hell of a fantasy life."
   "Yeah?" she flopped on her bed, and set down her bookbag.  Had to travel
like 5' from her shoulder, she didn't even think about it.  Not so much as
a clunk.  "I like older women, honestly.  Or I'd like one..." The trick
seems to be getting her to say it out loud.
   "Me too," nod brightly.
   Right?  "Idaknow what I'd do with them."
   "You got a phone, or e-mail?" I roll my eyes, "Well we could pass notes,
but I found that writing them out helps me remember, and think about them."
   She nods, "I swim." I nod back, "To think.  Idaknow, it shuts everthing
out, and I just let myself breathe, my body do it's thing, make the
turns..."
   [Amber, {FF NS Saph Fant}
   I never had a striptease before, or lap-dance.  Whatever that was. 
Sorry about my writing, not my best subject.  Or subjects.  Right,
fantasies.  It was real hot, and i got wet after you left, but i don't
fucking know, i like boobs.  There, i said it, and are you even up to an A
yet?  I don't mean to be mean, but like you said, we're already waiting. 
You're really developed for a freshman, or at least compared to the other
girls in your grade, but.  I don't know, you're pretty, and really bright,
i can tell, but i think we better take it slow.  Or slower.  I might have
been thinking about this longer, but beyond that i don't have much
experience.
   Your not that young, you just look younger, you know?  I don't, know
that is.  Any way, my locker number is 073, up stairs.  In case you can't
get in the locker room, or I don't see you.  I want to, you're so pretty,
and I love your hair.  And your big green eyes, i feel like i could sit
there for hours and just look at them, I guess.  Sorry, i suck at this.]
   [Meghan, {...}
   Do you even fantasise?  I don't mean to sound mean, or anything but your
writing is fine.  I'm not getting out the Red Pen, but switch to pencils,
you can go back with the eraser.  I get the blue pen, it suits you, but
save some paper.
   So, anyway.  Fantasy is how I figured out what I want.  Especially from
myself, if you make your image nice enough, (Yours is just fine, sweety.  I
wouldn't change a thing.) then they come to you.  That's why I came to you,
you're tall, and graceful.  Like a model, and yeah I heard you were gay,
but that's the only way I thought I'd stand a chance.  Yeah, I'm young, but
what are the odds I'd be your same age, or older?  IDFK, I'll get older, I
promise.
   I like your hair, and eyes too.  I never seen them the same exact color
before, even if they are that common medium brown.  That's what I love, the
differences that make us special from the whole normal crowd.  Like being
gay, when you have half a chance.  And I know exactly what I'd do with you.
What I want to do, but what do you want?]
   [Amber,
   Good question.  Sorry, i can be a little slow to catch on sometimes. 
Who's teaching who here?  That's a joke.  I guess what i want to do is
this. This is great, sharing what it's like, or having someone to do that
with.  Fantasies, IDK there] <<<yer/<ier maybe pencil was a mistake.  [hard
for me to understand even.  I don't have sexual fantasies, if that's what
you mean.  Romantic i guess is more like it.  I guess i have to get that
out of the way first.
   You?  Look at you, you're so cute, and sexual.  I haven't heard about
you, but just being around you, it's like i can feel it too.  You're like
so turned on it turns me on, a little.  I just don't know what to do with
it.  I tried, but i just don't know.]
   Amber {F Solo Hyme Saph Fant.}
   So yeah, she really decided to just dry up inside.  Or not, she's got to
be some kind of water sign.  I got that.  But why is she just swimming
instead of out there fighting?  With a body like that.  Her face?  All
girls have that in high-school, even the fat ones, it's the height of our
beauty.  Get it while it's hot!  But she's wasting it, letting that good
body just go numb, instead of enjoying it.
   I don't really like to swim, it's hard, and I can't breathe.  Her thing,
whatever.  But she had to be strong, and feel so hard.  Imagine standing
over someone like that, and looking down.  My blouse, come on you like
tits? I'll give you tits.  As much as I've got, I think they're growing
fast any way.  Just a little late out the gate is all.  Not fast enough for
me.
   Oh her hands must be stronger than this, I know they're bigger.  Busted
up nails, though, bite one, and run it over my nipple.  Yeah, that's
powerful!  Hers are so small, and light.  For a tits girl, I would think. I
caught a flash of nipple in the mirror, on her locker door.  Dark, almost
brown.  Didn't catch any shape to it, just a flash.  Her butt, she doesn't
have much hips.  What about hair, up front?  Didn't have any anywhere else,
but which would be hotter?  I have some, not a lot, but some of them are
even long.  Real fine, though, I bet hers were coarse.
   She's starting to believe me, about her beauty, and grace.  I can tell,
but I'm not sure how much I want to.  I mean, she'd be pretty intimidating
if she wasn't so shy.  Slouching over, and hiding her eyes in her bangs.  I
don't really like how it's long in front, and short in back, the way the
little point bristles under my finger, cimbing on her lap, and taking my
bra off.  She didn't touch me, couldn't but I got so good, and hot.
   Got that underwear off.  I need to grow more, all ready.  I'm good, and
hot, though.  It's hard, but just finding it is too much, so I rub the
outside.  Or let her do it, a nice twat swat to wake it up.  Yeah, her big
strong hands on me, I need the mirror.  Yeah, if I got as tall as her.  I
won't, I don't have those hormones, I already have more boobs then her, so
what is she complaining about?  I can't write any more.
   Oh that was awesome!  I can barely breathe, and I'm still twitching
inside.  I wish I could just reach through the mirror, instead of being
held back, by it's cold hard surface.  I don't remember getting off like
that before, and I'd think I would.  I just wondered what she'd feel like
inside, and it washed over me.  Her lips slipping over my fingers, and the
surprising resistance.  I had to wash the blood off of my fingers, and dry
them, of course.  It was kind of wet, and wow, it felt good.  It hurt.
   Good.  I don't hurt myself, never even thought about it, but that was
Epic!  God, wow, I really need to do it again.  But I'm tired.
   [Amber,
   I'm sorry, it just hurt so much!  It washed off in the shower, I know
but I think I need to heal before I do anything else.  You've been with
other girls, I can tell.  The clit, that felt fantastic, and it's so hard
to even wright that word without laughing.  I finally stopped.  Its weird I
could never, well I never figured out how.  But it felt good, you made me
feel real good, and I want to make you feel it to, I just don't know how.
Or where, my family can't wait for me to get out of here.  I keep getting
all these hints about jobs, and colleges.  My brother thinks it's awesome,
which is annoying.  I guess if I skip practice, it's not really Practice
for the school, but my usual laps to stay in shape.  I think I know a
place, I really like it, I've been going there for years, it's beautiful.
If you like, or you know someplace else.  If you could teach me, I keep
trying, but it doesn't feel the same way as when you did it.  IDFK.]
   [Meghan,
   Outside?  It sounds like outside, which is great.  Just as long as
nobody can see us, or sneak up on us.  Is there water?  We can get nice and
clean, if we get dirty together.  I'm so exited!  I've been wanting someone
to play with, and I'm glad it's you.  You're so tall, and pretty, and I bet
you're strong.  I know you're a strong swimmer, though I doubt there's
anywhere with enough water, and privacy for us.  You think we could get a
boat, and just take it out on the lake?  Maybe find an island, with a sandy
beach, and a cute little copse of trees.
   Fantasies can also be about the future.  What can we do, where?  Maybe
even plan an adventure, I'd love to go on an adventure with you.  You want
to switch to [Chat]?]
   [Amber,
   Yeah, that sounds wonderful.  Just a romantic adventure for the two of
us.  Like Moonrise Kingdom, only with 2 girls.  IDK about the boat, or
anything about boats.  You're right about the chatting.]
[Amber: Yeah, this is great, what are you wearing?  (WAYW)]
[Meghan: What would you like to see on me?
   I mean, I was thinking about when you said "Model."]
[Amber: How about this one?]
   <Link>
[Meghan: Ooh, that's pretty!
   Is that a party dress?]
   [Coctail dress.  Yeah, I know.  I'm sure a man named them.  How about
these?]
   <IMG>
   [Those are pretty racey.  And I don't have boobs like that, but I guess
there pretty.]
   [They're.
   <IMG>
   This is what I'm wearing.]
   [OMG, is that you!?  Wow, that's wow.  I mean hot.  It's pretty hot.]
   [Types With 1 Hand.  (TW1H)]
   [Yeah.  Um, BRB.
   .]
   Amber {FF...}
   [Can you cum over?] I sat back, and thought about her, touching herself.
She didn't answer, probably ran off to the bathroom, or bedroom.  I wonder
if she left the image up?  Me in my underwear.  Where was the computer?  I
didn't see it downstairs.  I decided to rub them till I soaked through.  My
nicest ones, pink to bring out the highlights in my hair, the water-bra to
fill me out, and push me together.
   FAP!  Rub it in, and imagine her standing over me.  "Ooh, pussy," Tap,
"Bad Bad pussy!"
   BLINK!  [Meghan: Really!  Where?]
   Got off fast!
[Amber: I'll meet you in the yard.]
I grabbed my sweatpants, unfolded them, and put them on.  Jacket, okay.
Looked terrible, but easy to get into.  Left the window open, and climbed
down.  My own room, it's nice.
   I caught my breath, and was practically humping the cement trim by the
time she jogged up.  Out of breath.  I kissed her anyway, and didn't feel
around her throat.  I just love her long lean stripey neck.  "Come on," I
kissed it, then skipped to a run, and led her to the playground.  It felt
great to run, free, I don't know why I never snuck out before, but now it
was cool, and there was nobody out.  Except her, chasing me.  So much
faster, I couldn't keep ahead for long.
   One of those plastic poles, and platform, things.  The park-light shone
down between the slide, and the wall down on ground-level, beside the
stairs.  I giggled, and she caught up, I already had the zipper down.  "You
like 'em?" She panted, and reached inside.  Her fingers were cold.  But
long, and strong, I caught my breath first, and reached up to pull her head
down.  Just a smooch, I felt my lips, and turned them around to hers.  Her
breath blew out her nose on them, but she nodded.  And looked in my eyes,
hers were almost black, but her stray hairs caught the yellow light.
   I wanted to feel her, and pulled her shirt out to touch inside it.  I
held my hands flat, felt her breathe.  Her hand in my hair, I kissed her
neck, and shoulder.  "HuhH!"
   Yeah, I know.  Maybe without all that running, but I had to get her some
nicer underwear.  Does she even own a bra, or any panties?  Cleanshaven, my
fingers shook in there, and she just hugged me.
   "Yes!" Breathless, I touched her, felt over the deeper softness to where
it split.  "Hm!" Thin soft smooth lips.
   "Mh!" She was really warming up.  Her tummy bounced like a slow motion
trampoline against my arms.  I rubbed them together, so she grunted, and
humped my fingers.  God, she must be super-sensitive.  I felt up, her
nipples were like pebbles.  Again, they're dark, tiny, and got real hard in
the shower.  "Oh, Amberh!" Wet too, I just felt around the bottom, then
moved back to run some of that around.  A little ruffle, and the tiny
point. "Nyh!" Unbeleiveably easy to get off, even I'm not that good.  Took
a couple minutes, maybe, my fingers didn't even get tired.
   [Amber,
   Oh that was so wonderful!  I just got myself off, again when i got home.
I'm sorry, i'm not very good at it yet, but I hope it was fun for you too.
Fantasies, now i get it!  Just seeing you, i love the picture, thanks. 
Good idea on the waterbra, it looks teriffic on you!  But what really got
me off, again, was after.  The first time, when you got in the slide.  I'll
never forget that smell, and i never, even saw one so close.  Well, maybe
mine in the hand mirror, but i couldn't get closer.  And, I don't know what
i was expecting, it to taste like.  I loved it, you taste wonderful, but I
didn't expect it to be so salty.
   I guess I never had anything to fantasize about.  Before you, the only
other girls i could see where the ones in gym, or swimming, and they don't
like me looking.  They know, and they say I'm as bad as the boys sometimes
about it.  And the faculty.  It's just so wrong, but that makes it harder
not to think about, and they're all full grown.  Some of them have kids,
and even the fat ones.  There's this one in Geometry.  She's not too fat,
and she has a really pretty face.  I like curves, i guess.  Straight lines
are stupid, and boring.  With corners because they can't just flow together
like curves.
   I love your curves, knowing they'll get bigger, and wider, and i'm still
so wet now.  IDK if i want to shower, but i better.  I don't want to be too
stinky in the morning.]
   [Meghan
   How the hell you beat me home is beyond me.  Okay, I walked, and maybe
wandered a little, but that was special.  I almost regret our first time,
it should have been more like that.  I think I love you, I think about you
all the time, and my grades are already starting to slip.  We need to
sleep, though.  We really do, you have Practice practice tomorrow, and I
don't want to rob you of a trophy.  I love you, though.  I really do.]
   Megan {F Solo Fant}
   "Amber!" Gosh, she's so overwhelming.  I never, got much chance to talk
to people.  They always push me away, or ran.  She's so weird, every time
she opens her mouth it's to say something inappropriate.  That's it, she
doesn't look dirty, but inside she's such a pervert.  Dr.  Santiago warned
me that there might be some possibly aggressive thoughts, and I almost want
to fight for her.  I'd kill for her, and I never even thought about killing
before.  How would I even?  Anything, it's so confusing.
   She says I'm pretty, and she's pretty convincing, but I know I'm a
freak. It's not the gay thing, that just what I like to think about, but I
got screwed over by the hormones.  Big lantern jaw, boney body, all these
edges, and corners poking out.  I need more boobs, these are too small, but
if I do more growing.  She's so lucky she's got so much growing to do, but
I get to see it.  If I can't have that, I can at least enjoy it, feel it
through her.  I think, I don't know how it works, but she's so sexy it
makes me feel sexy.
   But it just feels so wrong, under my fingers.  My little anthills, my
nipples are tiny, and too hard.  I can feel my ribs, and my tummy isn't
soft enough.  My belly button sticks out, and I have even harder edges on
the side.  I like her hair, down there.  I don't got none, just skin, and
bone, for drag.  And it itches in my suit when I let it grow out, a little,
it hurt when the curls started catching between it and my things,
especially kicking through the Crawl.  Okay breathe, Meg.  There's no
water, no need to hold your breath, but even her fingers feel better.  I
just wish I could make mine do what hers do.
   To her, she doesn't have my wrinkles.  It feels too rough, or my lips
do. She has nice puffy ones, like the hairy little hill in front of them,
and the pink folds peeking out, when they warm up.  I'm just so bad at it,
warming her up, I wish I could feel what she does, tell when I'm doing it
right, feel when I get to a good spot, like this.  It's so much easier like
this, but I'm learning.  I can learn, it's just slow sometimes.
   And I don't want to be too critical.  She doesn't know, how she hurts my
feelings, most of the time it's a compliment, and what's wrong with me? 
Why can't I just take a compliment.  But she's so young, she doesn't know
any better, and her.  She doesn't stick out like this, never.  Just don't
bump into it like that.  Push the skin up off it, and let her breathe.  Too
dry, I pull my finger, and rub it a little.  I have to put my heels beside
the edge of the mattress so I don't curl up.  Oh it's so nice, I wish I
could just grab my legs, and curl into it.  I tried, not even close, can't
barely smell myself.  She likes it, and I really like how she touches it,
but now I know how to do it, I'm getting better, and better.  See, this
isn't so tough.  I expected to be a lot less sensitive, but if I breathe,
yeah, get a good rythm, and feel how wet I am.  Yeah!  A couple more
fingers to pinch it with my thumb, and the tiny popping, in and out of the
little hood.  "Neah!"
   "Oh!," my nail is hard on the back, I didn't think to expect that. 
"hm!" just remembering her holding my hand, and the emery board, polishing
across the backs of them, one bye one...  And I'm hard, it's easier to find
if you know where to look, how to feel around, and.  That's the fantasy,
though.  Her, I can remember the smell, and the taste.  Not real strong,
you have to wait for it, or get enough of it on my tongue.  Licked my
fingers, and rubbed them in some more.  Yeah, get good, and wet, breathe. I
can almost feel it washing over my head, but warm, goose bumps on my
shoulders.  I gasp, and feel my chest.  The hard sensitive spot in the
middle of one of them.  Try not to moan too loud, but god I feel good!  My
forehead prickles, breaking a sweat, and I can her the wet sounds coming
out around my fingers.
   I held my breath, and twitched my fingertips as fast as I could.  Then I
stopped, felt it twitch back, and the breath came out.  Like "a a a a a
ah!" I gasped, and it flooded through me.  I sucked at my fingers too, and
pulled them out to taste them.  God, that was strong, or Powerful as Amber
would say.  Now, the question is, what do I want to do to her?
   Amber {CFNf}
   Ooh, she was aggressive!  Okay, I led her, backed into a corner, but she
followed!  Her hand up my skirt, hot breath on my cheek.  Fingertips on my
lips, I kissed them.  Quickly, without a sound.  She closed her eyes, and
felt around, without any expression.  Up my top, half out of my bra.  I
could just stand there, breathe, barely kiss her back.  Her mouth swabbed
mine out, rolling her tongue around, and around in there.  I sighed, and
felt her hips.  Like a violin, or a chello, I guess.  She's not that small.
Just through her thin plastic shorts, and the side strap of her panties. 
Felt like the blue ones I gave her.  Smaller hips than me, all ready?  I
dug them out.
   "Mh?" She felt inside.  Just inside, the outside.  Pulled her fingers
out, and sniffed them.  I giggled, the "Perv!" and she licked them to reach
back in.  She practiced, "Nh, hn!" 2 fingers, I could feel myself dragging
between them, her fingertips slipping up from the bottom.  I don't know why
I don't get as wet, as easy down there.  She had to use a lot of spit to
get her finger inside.  White painted cinder blocks, "Nh!" how romantic. 
Probably can't get away with sitting on her face out here.  "Inh!  Don't."
I put my hand on hers, and her fingertip popped back out.  "Not yet," I
kissed her neck.  I'd have to get a lot wetter than that!  I rubbed her
fingers into the hard spot.  "Mh, yeah.  Just keep.  Ohooh!" I pushed her
fingers harder.  Anyone could just walk bye, around from the science wing,
or the mixed social studies classes.
   My hands rubbed her back.  I didn't have anything to do with it, but
they found their way up the hourglass of her hips to the flat trapezoid up
toward he shoulders.  My nails caught on the teeshirt on the way back down.
She has bras, doesn't really need them, or care to wear them.  "Nh!" I
came, and it was like an earthquake.  It shook up from her fingers, and she
squeezed the side of my chest.  I wanted to scream, and bit it back to a
muffled moan.  "Heah," breathless, I pushed her fingers down, skirt bunched
around my arms.  I was wet enough now, and felt myself twitch around her
finger.  "Huh, yn, yeah, huh!" I caught my breath.  She laughed, and ran
off.  There was no way to catch her.
   She molested me!  She did, came out of nowhere, pushed me back,
practicly covered my mouth!  I don't understand those fantasies.  I like
them, they apparently get me off, but I can't understand them.  How can
rape be sexy?  Of course she didn't rape me, she just molested me, fully
clothed, but I just melted in her arms.  On her fingers, dripped all around
them like candle-wax.  She just licked off her finger, smiled and ran off.
Finally, some confidence!  "Oh, I like this!" I laughed.
   Meghan (NS}
   "I'm a butch, right?" God I was so hungry caffeteria turkey tasted good.
I wanted a burger, or that burger, and gravy thing that comes with mashed
potatoes.  She thought, sighed, and nodded seriously.  "Well, I don't know
how to act but, that, just then." I got her off!  Didn't even take as long
as I expected, the bell didn't even ring.
   "Yeah," she admitted, "You did great." See, I can learn.
   "But that was really risky," I almost wanted to whisper, but in the
corner of the lunchroom, it was too loud.
   "We should try something else."
   "You gonna eat that?" She shook her head, so I snagged her turkey.
   "Well, try everything eventually, but we can work ourselves up.  That
was really hot, though."
   "Yeah," I didn't have any bread for the gravy, and the stuffing is like
baked confetti, even with it, so I grabbed our trays, and dumped them.
   "You want me to make it up to you?" She looked down, from the clock.  I
laughed, and chased her across the soccer field.  Didn't catch her, little
grey hood, dishwater ginger.  She stopped, back to a tree, and I slowed. 
Her big green eyes wide, excited.  Chest heaving, a little more each day. I
don't remember anyone else growing up so fast.  Lets see, I reached into
her jacket.  Coming up on 3 months, starting to get chilly, her nipples
already hard.  "Uh!"
   She let her hands down, and leaned back.  Felt up my hips, sides, back.
She's been biting her nails again.  Already bigger than mine with her soft
pale nipples.  They didn't get hard, just puffed a little, and squished in
my fingertips.  "Adhedonia."
   "Hm?" she looked up, and nibbled her lip.  "That's what my doctor calls
it, she says some girls don't feel pleasure as much as others." She was so
insensitive.
   "You go to a shrink, too?"
   "Just her, right now.  She's keeping track of me, says I'm fairly well
adjusted, but if I develop any issues, it's good to diagnose them ASAP."
Well, she didn't say it like that, I'm a Navy brat, or my dad was.  "But
about me," I put her hand down her pants.  She's so much better than me. 
I'm learning, but I'm still not that good at it.  Or maybe it's because
she's doing it, right in front of me, and I can feel her, they're already
bigger than mine.  I don't have to imagine her.
   "You like that?" I closed my eyes, and nodded.  Bent down to kiss her,
feel her warm full lips, and taste her mouth.  It doesn't taste like much,
spit, I guess, but it's her mouth, and I love it.  "Yeah," she tapped my
cheek with her fingers, "You like that." I nodded.
   "Hm?" 2 fingers!  "Mhm." The problem with standing up like this is
they're down there, when I just want to bury my face in them, and devower
her.  She wants a wolf, I'll be the wolf.  I'd blow her house down.  But
this was supposed to be about me, and honestly, with all that buildup, I
expected to be done already.  I sniffed my fingers, her hair brushed my
cheek.  There was a little left.  My shoulder hurt, where she bit me.
   "What?" I laughed, little red riding hood bit the wolf!  That helped me
relax, get out of my head, and just feel it.  It wasn't long after that.
   Dr.  Magdalena Santiago {F Solo Ex/Vo Fant.}
   "She asked me if I ever watched someone," she looked down, "play with
herself." Flushed.  "I don't know, it was hot, and she got me off right
after, but it was weird.  I mean over the phone, I couldn't really see
through her underwear, and her fingers." I had thought getting a partner
would Improve her self-image!
   "You don't care for her underwear." I could tell by the way she said it.
She looked more confused than anything.  Not at all curious, though.
   "It gets in the way," she shrugged, "She's really," thought, "Proud of
it?  Panties, I guess.  Green ones.  Like light green.  A little ribbon
around the legs, and lace around the top." Sigh, "I have them, she gave
them to me."
   "Hm," I nodded, and stopped chewing on my glasses.  Now Ruth was
smoking, "Come again?" I shook my head.
   "It's weird, I like the water-bra, but she really, really likes her
underwear.  Is that some kind of fetish?"
   "Not a common one," for girls.  "You wouldn't describe her as butch?"
It's a tough concept to explain, to someone without a concept of it. 
Ironically enough, or possibly caused by her repressed self-image.  Barely
virilized in fact, no superficial uro/genital signs in her examinations,
slight hypertrophy for her age, from what I could tell without getting
invasive, or arousing her.  She's mostly just a tall awkward girl, but she
doesn't feel pretty.
   She shook her head, "But she's really aggressive, and she's got a foul
mouth.  She says they're just words, but I think they turn her on too."
   "But you were aroused, and attained release."
   "Well yeah, she turns me on." she sighed, "She can wear a toga, or
something, even in a poncho, it's not about clothes for me."
   "But you think it is for her?" she nodded, "and the dirty language?"
   "Mh hm?  It's really hard to turn her on.  It was for me too, at first,
but I really just had to learn how.  Now, huh.  Now it's her arousal,
that's holding us back."
   "Anhedonia.  Is that why you're mostly exploring her fantasies?" Sounds
like a lot of role-play.
   "Well," she thought, "I think it's because I don't need them.  She says
it's not because I'm, so," She stops when she doesn't know how to finish
thoughts, out loud.  Doesn't cover them with uh, or what-I-means.  "All I
really need is her, and she keeps doing things that turn me off.  Like when
she hits herself, down there."
   "Hits herself how?"
   "Well it's not hard.  Just with her fingers like," she taps them on the
desk.  All 4, flat.  "It doesn't feel good, when she did it to me, but she
likes." Take a breath, "She wants me to do it to." Or too..?  Not really
the girl to ask about that.
   "It sounds like she has some deep seated sexual," and plausibly gender,
"Issues." I believe they may stem from some sort of abuse.  "Do you think
you could bring her to the next Group?" We already need to get a larger
venue, but their needs are far more important than logistic issues.
   "She doesn't trust doctors, or therapists."
   "Mhm?" noted.  "For moral support, she knows about the meetings?" She
nods, "Well then tell her you need her here, for you." If that works, "it's
not a lie."
   Larry {MFfTti...  Group}
   "I'm not much of a Therapy girl." She shrugged.  She looked perfect, not
Catholic perfect, but mainstream.
   "It's all right," Maud looked in, "This is just a place to open up, with
people who understand."
   Ruth, and Maud.  "Hm!" Okay, processing...
   "I don't know what's wrong.  I don't feel, I guess I haven't figured out
what turns me on.  I'm only 15, and I'm having trouble with my feelings."
She held the new girl, Meghan's hand.  Must be her fourth meeting?  Brought
her along.  "We're learning," she picked it up, and kissed it, rubbed the
spot.
   Just gay, teenagers apparently, "But I'm a cheerleader!" Basketball, I
think.  "She's my favorite athlete." She hugged her shoulders.  No frame of
reference on anything like that, Ruth would probably relate.
   "Are you guys closeted?" I covered my mouth on reflex.  Neither of them
got mad, but I think Meghan caught it.  Right, self conscious.  Gawky,
clumbsy, too big.  Okay, I can relate some.
   "What about you?" Amber looked interested.
   "I grew up catholic, orphanage, sheltered until I was molested by a
homeless man, and Ruth." I waved, "Well, she saved me.  We discovered I was
really a boy inside, and we found Dr.  Maud." Now they live together. 
Weird family, but I'm not really a Family kind of guy.  "Extended Family,"
Ruth says.  "First it was gay, then gay, and lesbian, eventually got to
LBGT...  It goes on for inclusion.  I'm queer, that about covers everyone
for me except for Normal, whatever that is."
   "What was your name," Amber, "Before?"
   "Gloria." Always hated that name.
   "Oh," she laughed.  "So you're."
   "In transition," asexual, still mostly a virgin.  She rubbed her lip
self consciously, and I felt my mustache.  Well, as much as I can grow. 
She got up, wandered over toward the bathrooms.  I dropped Curtis' hand. 
"Are you all right?"
   "What's it like?"
   I thought back, "Transition?  Well I'm not there yet."
   "What's it feel like, being?"
   "Transgender?  I don't know what it doesn't feel like.  I didn't even
realize, because I was only around girls as a child so I had no frame of
reference." I'm used to all of the questions.
   "But you felt weird, not like any of them?"
   "There literally are no words." I thought, "But yeah.  Not like the
other girls."
   "What have you, I mean, did you get any,"
   "Surgery?" I guessed.  "Not yet, I don't know if I'm operable, but I'll
see what they get in the catalog." She shook her head, "There's not very
much available, for guys like us, so we make do.  I'm on hormones, they
help."
   "Like a drug?"
   "Well, I didn't grow all that much, before I got diagnosed.  So, I got
to make sure it was the right growth."
   "How old are you?"
   "Nineteen?" I nodded, "It kind of stunted my growth, switching gears
like that."
   "And how do you get diagnosed?"
   I pointed, "Maud." The best around.  "You smoke?"
   She shook her head, "I like it, but I don't." She followed me up.
   "So, you think you might feel," what's the most inclusive?  "Gender
Disphoric?"
   "I know I'm bisexual.  Not like those bi-curious girls, and their
boyfriends, but I've been there.  IDK," she abbreviated, "I've wondered if
maybe there was a third option?"
   "And do you feel more masculine," even in that over-feminized body?
   "Especially when I'm mad."
   "Well that sounds like a psychopath, but the masculine doesn't have to
be so negative." Without denial.  "Hm," what're the odds?
   "Hm?"
   "Now don't start mimicing me," I finally got that one.  "Maud's got to
run some tests, to rule out other possibilities.  Anything from minor
intersex, like Megan, or."
   "What's an intersex?"
   "Oh, hormone imbalance, partial virilization." She'd know better than me
how much.
   "Her," she tried to remember.  "Congenital."
   "Adrenal Hyperplasia." I looked it up, it was interesting.  "Her adrenal
glands, produced some androgens, I don't remember which one.  It's not
testosterone."
   "I'll take it," she laughed.
   "Well, they won't give you hormones until you're diagnosed," Proper.
   Amber {CfNt Mole}
   He tried to turn back for the door, flipped off his light.  "So, what
did they do to your," I reached out for him, and he backed up.  I stepped
around, so he had nothing to run against but that back to the rolling
trashcans, or a climb up to the roots of some tree.  "It's okay, if you
show me?"
   He sighed, and leaned back, pulled out his shirt, and started
unbuttoning it.  Loosened his tie.  It was pretty exciting, I haven't seen
a girl shemale before, and the boys were just in pictures, or video.  I
guess there's an exception to Rule 34 after all.  Childporn, almost.  She
looks like a boy, maybe 12, except for that lip fuzz.  "You mind?" I
reached up, and felt it, my bare lip with my other hand.  His hands fell,
so I spread opened his shirt, and stepped back to move my shadow out of the
way.  Most of it came through the tree-branches, but it wasn't that cold
yet.  Wonder how much longer the therapy would last.
   "Oh?" The nipples were wrong, too puffy, and nowhere near the corners of
his chest.  That chest, still kind of skinny, and boney, was that a hair?
Right on the edge of a nipple, and getting long, too.  I felt a couple
more, shorter, and others just growing out.  On both sides.  "Do you get
anything down there?" I looked down.  His pants were closed, and just hung
straight down to his feet.  "Uh!" I had to help him out of them, or at
least get them open to see them.  There was nothing to catch them on the
bottom, boxer briefs.  What is it with people, and ugly shorts?
   "Does it," I held it up on my finger.  "Get."
   He nodded, "It can," eyes closed.  He moved his hands, and brought the
flaps of his pants together.
   Meghan had to come and get me in the ladies room.  Now, why didn't I
think of that?  Because I didn't see the catalog, or know it was an option.
It was a clit, but it stuck out even more then Meghan's.  Little Mega. 
Maybe 2 fingertips when it was turned on.  I wonder if she can fuck with
that, she's a grower, not a shower like Meg's?  Yeah, right, but a girl can
dream.  He's strong, stronger then me, I couldn't hold his hands down, and
he finally pushed me back.  Maybe doesn't know his own strength, running
scared, back to the dumpsters.
   But if I could get that, maybe it would be enough, with some more
muscle. I'm already taller than him.  It's really hot, that weird mix like
you threw a boy and girl in a blender.  Very Emo, pretty, young looking,
that catapillar fuzz on his lip.  He even smelled, weird.  Not quite girly,
or manly.  Definitely those two, but I don't remember it when I had one of
each.  Getting hairy, though.  I used my thumb, yeah, if I could just get
this much.  I made a fist, and beat off as fast as I could, and fingered my
little prick until she came, and found me.
   What did he say, Gender Dysphoric?  I'll have to look it up if I'm going
to effect it.  Pretty easy with him there as an example.  Just get
diagnosed, for some hormones, and do some growing.
   Maud {Tf NS MC}
   I picked up my glasses, and put them on.  "Have a seat." Amber, and if
ever there was a more femmy little girl, I hadn't met her.  Maybe Shirely
temple, way back when, but downright cute, cuter than Gloria.  She put her
leg up, across her knee in pants.  Had she been studying?  That's the first
masculine thing I'd seen, but it looked practiced.  "So what's the
problem?"
   "I talked to Larry last night," she yawned, "Then I couldn't sleep.  I
never thought of anything like that before, and you know, it all kinda
makes sense now."
   "Mhm?" let her go on.  Something bothered me, in the back of my mind,
but it's better to pick away at such intuition, instead of ignore it.
   "Huh!" Kind of a deep sigh, "I don't, IDK, I never, felt like anyone
else.  I feel like I'm surrounded by all these weird people, and their
sexism, well a lot of it never made any sense.  Like dresses, why do girls
wear them?  How come boys don't, or can't?  It's not like pants grow on
trees, we created dresses for girls, and pants for boys, and girls, but it
can't just be all about peeing.  And colors, and how to dress, and how to
act."
   "You learned to act female," obviously.  If it was an act, it was a good
one.
   "I was told, pretty much my whole life I was rewarded for being girly,
and punished for anything else." That's a bit exaggerated, but perhaps some
persecution complex, or paranoia?  Not uncommon, for certain disorders. 
"But why is there a Female act, and a Male one?  My brother, he played with
me, because it was just us, and the folks.  I like guns, and tanks, and
jets and stuff.  You should see my room, there's no toys lying around,
because all my toys are packed up in their box.  I never got them out." She
shrugged, "My parents stopped buying me them.  I still get pink bikes."
   "You don't like pink?"
   "Huh," she rolls her eyes, "I don't care about pink.  It's a, I don't
know, an Underwear color.  It looks horrible on me, like clothes, but when
I'm turned on."
   "Meghan mentioned some anhedonia."
   "That's about pleasure, right?" She shook her head.
   I nod, "It presents differently, but it may be either an inability to
process pleasure, some mental block that displaces it to something
inappropriate, like certain fetishes, or in extreme cases Paraphillic to
the degree that some component is needed for arousal, or release. 
Anhedonia is just the inability to feel pleasure, but not the only
diagnostic possibility, at this point." And that sent up the warning in the
back of my mind.  Explaining it to someone sometimes help bring the thought
out, one of these has to be the truth, though some overlap is also
possible.
   She thought a moment, then a couple more...  "Maybe that median one." If
she Means Median, instead of Mode.  Highschool math.  "I get these
fantasies, and some of them are hot, and some of them not, but that changes
up depending on my mood.
   "What kind of fantasies?"
   "Where do I start?  Sometimes it's like looking through the catalog,
like Larry said." Actually, I found that analogy works best for him.  He's
a shopper.  "But I can't make up my mind!  Sometimes it doesn't work, or
maybe I give up before I find the right one." I checked her records.  Not
even a gynecologist.  Last medical professional she'd seen was an
orthodontist, several years ago.  Looked to be in pretty healthy shape,
though.
   "Any of them violent?"
   "What?" She looked at my face.  Lightbulb, !  She looked away.
   "What kind of violent fantasies?"
   "You mean like," she flushed, "Rape?" Embarrassment, or arousal?  She
doesn't strike me as a shame kind of girl.  No, that's what's been
bothering me so far, she looks like a teeny bopper, it even comes off a bit
overdone, she tries too hard.  But she presents more like some kind of a
Psychopath.
   "How do you feel about them?"
   "You mean besides horny?"
   "I mean afterwards.  Once you get your emotional release, how do you
feel remembering them?"
   "Hm!" A sigh.  Not a good sigh.  "I don't know.  Huh, I don't really
know how to describe my feelings." Or have them.  She's not adhedonic,
she's Apathic.  She might learn to fake empathy, watching people, studying
them to see how to act.  But inside, she's shameless, remorseless.
   I fold up my notes.  "I'm sorry, while there may be some underlying
Gender Disphoria," and there's no Way I'm giving her Androgens.  Steroids
are named after Androgens, they would only make her stronger, and more
aggressive.  "I'm also picking up on some deep seated issues that would
have to be dealt with first." I'll have to think about even sharing the
diagnosis.  She's been reading a lot, but still hasn't identified the
source of her problems.  And if she does, she may evolve into a self-aware
Sociopath, which can be extremely dangerous.  I feel comfortable lying to
her, because she has no problem, whatsoever with lying to me, and the whole
world.  A merciless personality, which means the Golden Rule, ruthlessly
applied.  Otherwise, they figure out how to walk all over you.
   "What about underwear?"
   "Hh?" She nods.  Yes, that's arousal.
   "Your girlfriend, mentioned that.  It's not a betrayal, your
relationship is a big part of her developing a worldview.  She's still
developing her fantasy, and having trouble telling it apart from yours'. 
So, we had to discuss those aspects of your relationship." I held up my
hand, "Now, I know how you feel about doctors, I get that, but for
practical reasons if you want to have your say, you have to come in and
actually say it.  Otherwise, I can only deal with her side of it." You have
to put it their language, once you narrow down their symbolic set.  "Also,
I'll have to share some of my findings, with your permission of course, so
she better knows how to treat you." She gets that too, but also I mean to
lower her risk, brace herself for the probably inevitable, and eventually
decide how long she wants to go through with it.
   "Do you understand Emotional Abuse?"
   "No," she lies.  It helps when it's a yes, or no, so the truth is simple
by process of elimination.
   "But you didn't question Emotional Release."
   "I've heard the term.  I like crime dramas, like Law & Order," SVU.  She
sighs, and looks up.  Her eyes switch back, and forth, between processing
her thoughts, and thinking up how to word the lies.  "I guess it's like an
Orgasm, only without touching myself, or having sex." I'm not some kind of
Human Lie Detector, I don't believe in such a thing outside of theme TV
shows.  Some people are better at covering it than others, and she
apparently hasn't figured out what she looks like, when she's lying. 
Utterly convincing, though.  Probably because nobody else knows how to pick
up on it, at her age, and social situation.  It's notable how badly trained
teachers, and school councilors are.  Nobody thinks to suspect the cute
little girl, she doesn't look anything like the archetypic monster, so they
probably bury the nagging creepiness.  Actually surprising someone else
hadn't picked up on it.
   "Is that what it feels like," I prompted her, "A mental orgasm?"
   "Yeah, kind of," she bites something back, "Or right after I get off, in
the normal way.  It's the same kind of headrush.  Yeah, that's it.  I think
I'll call it a headrush." Wrye smile, covering an inside joke, and not
expecting me to get it.  Right out there, testing me, problems with
Authority.
   So, how do I handle her?  "Power Trip." There, I said it, and she looked
caught redhanded.  Never considered the possibility that I'd pick up on it.
Which is a pretty reliable way to control a Malignant Narcissist.  "Is that
a consistent component of your arousal, or emotional release?"
   "Huh," all right, you got me.  "I don't have to be the abuser. 
Sometimes it's fun playing the victim." I flipped back a page, underlined
[_Victim_Rehearsal_] and let it drop immediately.  "I like it, it's fun! 
What's that?" She nodded her head at my notes.
   "Some internal notes, possible therapies, once we get to a diagnosis."
   "I never heard of Victim Rehearsal." I sighed, and took off my glasses.
I failed at poker the first few times too.
   "How does that fantasy work with you, and Meghan?"
   "Depends on who's feeling receptive," she shrugs.  Asking about her
family just prompts a lie, and she's aware of it.  Drops misleading hints
without prompting.  So, fantasy it is.  I look up, and nod, [What kind of
abuse?] Let it shew on my face.  "She's got problems with initiating
anything.  She stands back, lets it happen, or not because she hates
herself." And she loves that.  "So, either I have to go in, or she has to
play a role with that kind of confidence." Another lie, one she's told her
often enough to count as rehearsal.
   "Okay, what about your fantasy?" I'd gotten hers.  "Or fantasies?"
   "Aggressively, I like to feel attractive.  So, it's more the
girl-of-your-dreams, buy her a drink, or ride in like prince charming to
take her away, from all this." Narcissism, got that.  She's projecting,
with no way to tell how someone else actually feels, she defaults to ideal
Archetypes.  "Receptively, I like it when she molests me.  Not that I was,
ever." Well that sure narrows it down!  A narcissist can't admit to being
the victim, even to themselves.  It threatens their worldview, which
revolves around them.  Dialing it in...
   "As long as it's a fantasy." Just a fantasy, it's not real.  She nods.
   "I like to be the man.  I'm not really cut out for it, but I guess that
makes it." She shrugs, "Somehow hotter."
   "Yet you fetishize underwear." I put on my glasses.  [Transvestite?]
   She reads it, backwards, and stretched across the lenses.  I print it,
quite legibly.
   "Huh!" she thinks, "Is that possible for a Transexual?"
   "Transexualist," I'm more specific.  "For now, I believe you may be more
attracted to the idea of Transgender." Barring intersex.  Glasses up, I
look blurily under them and make a not to [Ask Meghan about Inguinal Teste
Smears?}
   "I like her masculinity." sincere nod, "I kind of wish for more
hormones, or development that way." Strength, Power, Envy.
   "Which reminds me," I chew on a glasses arm.  She likes that.  "Uhm, I
talked to Larry.  I must say that was borderline abusive, he's pretty
traumatized."
   "I didn't do that." Think up a lie, "I mean it didn't feel like me.  I
barely remember doing it." Sexual impulse.
   "Do you ever black out?"
   "Not that I know of," she puts on a smile to tell me that's a joke. 
Certainly not a lie, or anything.
   "Yes?" I pick up the phone.  "Mhm?" Put on my glasses.  "I'm sorry but
my next appointment is here." I drop her file, and my notes in the locking
drawer.  "Uhm, if you think," give her the power, "You'd like to come talk
again, you can set up an appointment on the way out." Passive-Aggressive,
might work, she didn't pick up on it.
   Meghan
   "Have a seat," I don't know what the glasses mean, but she's wearing
them.
   "We need to talk about Amber."
   "What about him?" Sit down, shrug, shake my head.
   "Huh," she looks uncomfortable, which is weird, for her.  "Well, first
of all, she's not transgender.  She's a girl, oddly enough." Rolls her
eyes, "But she seems to have deep rooted psychological issues which drown
out any possible gender ones."
   "That bad," I could see it in her eyes, "Huh?"
   "I'm having trouble even narrowing down a primary diagnosis, but she
affects Borderline, Anti-social, Narcissistic, and Histrionic traits. 
There's just so much overlap, and internal conflict, she might
subconsciously pick one." She remembers, "Does she have any growth on her
pubis?  It might feel spongey, but unlike a Mons, it would be painfully
sensitive."
   "So," she shook her head, "Personality Disorders?" We've been reading
up. I'm not bright enough to become a doctor, and even if I was, I don't
have the grades for a scholarship.  Swimming isn't like football for
colleges, and I suck at Dribbling.
   "There's no diagnosis." she sighs, "It's not in the book, and I don't
think the psychiatric community as a whole is set up very well for unique
cases.  It makes my job difficult, but I have some experience with similar,
people." Admittedly, both Men.  "So, I can explain it, and tell you what to
watch out for.  She's an emotional abuser, I'm not sure what experience she
has in that, but she doesn't suffer from it."
   "She enjoys it," that explains a little.
   She shook her head, "She learns from it.  Take your seduction, for
example.  She groomed you, and took advantage of your sexuality."
   "You make me sound like a victim!"
   She holds up her hand, so I sit back down.  "Victim/consent, these
aren't absolutes.  In the real world, with real people, but that's not
Amber's worldview.  Hmh.  She only sees 2 kinds of people, Victims, and
abusers, and I can tell she at least subconsciously decided which one she
wanted to be, some time ago."
   "You're telling me she sees me as a victim?" That doesn't make sense,
she loves me!
   "She hasn't made up her mind yet, AFAICT." She didn't spell it out.  I
abbrv, it helps a lot, guess who I learned that from?  "She lies, she's
pretty good at it, so there's always her real motives behind what she tells
you.  She's very good at explaining things, but biasing it by leaving
something critical out.  She also rolls her eyes to cover her lies, but
when she looks left," her left, "she's thinking of something to say.  Right
seems to be sincerely remembering, or processing from memory, but she
doesn't know her own tells yet."
   "So she's some kind of abuser." I started crying, "And a liar?" I felt
so betrayed, even though I can't remember any abuse?
   "She seems to prefer Emotional Abuse," she nods, "And fetishizes Sexual
abuse.  She's like a Child Molester, but not a Preferential Pedophile. 
Instead, she exploits people, looks for weakness, and gets off on taking
advantage of it."
   "But I'm not a child," I shake my head, "She's even younger than me." We
were going to get married!
   "Opportunists aren't exclusive to children, they just have more
weaknesses to exploit."
   "No she's not?" I bend my elbow over my eyes, "She can't be." soak into
my sleeve.  "Uhnhunuhuh!" I can't say anything more communicative.
   "She doesn't love you," she sighs, and rubs my back.  "She's trying to,
may even believe in it, but she's not capable of love, the way you, or I
feel it.  She loves the ideal of you, the image she has in her head, but
she can't understand you well enough to.  She, lies to herself.  As well,
actually no, first, and foremost.  If she can convince herself, she can
convince anyone.  Potentially, it can beat a Polygraph, if she learns to
truly believe it.  But not as long as she consciously thinks of an evasive
answer.  A half truth still feels like a lie.  That's unique, when it's
even plausible in the first place, but has been recorded."
   I just cried, while she thought to herself, out loud.  At some point, I
couldn't even pay attention any more.  I wiped my eyes, before I left.
   She looked up, and smiled at me.  The door hissed behind me, or the
weird mechanism at the top.  "Ruth, right?" She nodded, happily.  "You're
not waiting for, Maud are you?" This is the hard part, "You want to go grab
some coffee, or something?" There, I said it.  She runs the Addicts
Anonymous group, in the same church basement.  She's also Catholic, like
Larry, or "Recovering Catholic." I went to church, but ever since Santa,
and the bunny got outed, I never really had much faith.  How do people get
addicted to that?
   "You all right?" She rubbed my shoulder.
   "Huh," I shook my head, "I just, found some things out about my,
relationship." Pretty much my only one.
   "And you need to talk, to process it?" She stopped, "This is me." It was
like a car, with a truck bed.  )Ranchero) on the tailgate.  I don't know
cars, but it was different.  I hadn't seen many others like it, kind of old
with a blocky front end, like a taxi, or old police car.  I buckled up, but
the long door was heavy.  "What kinds of problems you girls having?" Can't
place the accent, at all, not even going to try.
   "Huh!' deep breath, "Maud makes her sound like some kind of monster.  It
just doesn't make sense." I started crying again, right away.  "It just
doesn't sound like her.  You think she could be wrong?"
   "Psychiatry is not an exact science.  She's more like an artist, but
fallible, yes.  Is it the gender thing?  We can hear you in group, even
back in that corner.  She just prefers to moderate, with as little
interference as possible."
   "I thought it was," I shook my head, "She's so." I don't know the right
words.  "I thought it was manly," the way she acts sometimes, "and her
fantasies, but Maud doesn't believe her."
   "Mhm?" She nodded, and pulled up to a MacDonalds.  "Yeah, lemme get a
large coffee, black, some sugars, and." She turned back.
   "A Coke?" She turned back, "No ice." Summer's pretty over.
   "A large Coke, no ice."
   "Do you want to upsize either of those drinks?"
   "Biggest ones you got," she pulled up.  "Sorry, you were saying?"
   "It's private," I sighed, "But, there seems to be some, I don't want to
say Violence.  It's not all whips, and chains, and stuff, but Maud says
it's 'Emotionally Abusive'."
   "Whatever that means?" She tucked her wallet back, and shifted back in
the seat.  Nice ones, comfortable, nothing like a truck's.  "It's tricky,
subtle.  Emotional abusers don't want to hit you, that's too obvious.  Why,
have you been having abusive thoughts, or fantasies about Amber?"
   "No!" I shake my head.  The window slides open, so I hold that thought.
Don't want to just blab about this private stuff to some stranger.  "Uh, I
love her." I wet my dry throat quick.  "Ah!  Umh, that's what's got me all
confused.  Dr.  Santiago says she doesn't love me back, and I don't know
who to believe."
   "Maud has," she sighs, "Mental blocks, I guess.  She's different, but
there's all kinds of different.  So, you have Maud over here," she nods her
head to the side, but keeps driving, "And then there's other kinds over
there, which she can't feel very well.  She's a really very intuitive
person, but when that fails, all she has to fall back on is Analysis.  She
can do that too, but she has to think about it.  Did she mention a
diagnosis?"
   "Well, she only met Amber once," she didn't come back, but Maud says
that it requires trust, and Amber doesn't trust doctors.  "'She said, 'Some
sort of Psychopathy'," She hasn't opened up about that, yet.
   "And yet she picked up on this emotionally abusive mindset?" I nodded,
"That's a bad sign.  If even she saw it, that quickly, then there must be
something there to pick up on.  You're young," she rubs my shoulder again.
"And inexperienced?"
   I nodded, "Never been with anyone else."
   "Well Maud isn't."
   Ruth {Ff NS Fant.}
   God, I kept her at arm's length.  When all I really wanted was to hug
her, and kiss her, and tell her everything would be all-right.  But she's
only, what, 17?  She didn't look like any kind of Psychopath, or maybe it
was like that Hubert kid, an extended psychotic break, just an episode, a
phaze.  ?  And here I am, pushing 40, and God why does she have to be, so.
   ?
   I know my type, and while I ain't never hearda Congenital Adrenal
Hyperplasia before, I couldn't argue with the results.  Had to be nearly 6
foot, and I don't want to ask her how tall she is, how big those shoes
really are, give her too much encouragement, or the right idea.  I could,
make a move on her, if I wanted to.  I hope, no, I think I could, but it's
too inappropriate.  It's not just her age, she's got a girlfriend, and I
don't want to think that they're having problems, hopefully.
   "I don't know anything about this, psychology stuff." But I have to
admit that I am capable of emotional abuse, and Denial is probably my
biggest problem.  Of course, she'd probably reject me anyway.  She'd have
to make the first move, and I don't think she will.  "Can I drop you off
somewhere?" Pull up behind the cars stopped at a light.  She kissed me,
"Hm!" DAMN it!
   I pushed her back, "What?" She brushed her lip, and bit it, self
consciously.
   "Huh," green, I watched the cars a few seconds.  "Look, this isn't, it
wouldn't be appropriate.  I have issues too, and there's the Group rules."
Posted every meeting:
   1: This isn't a singles club.  We want to avoid any positive, and
negative reinforcement, so think about your urges, and get a second opinion
before you act on them.
"I would have to talk to Maud at least.  As my therapist, and my
girlfriend before I get into, anything likeat.  I have issues too, but
you're so emotionally vulnerable right now, and that ain't right."
Irregardless of what it feels like.  "I, it wouldn't be fair to you,
picking you up on the rebound from another emotional abuser, and." And
she's just so young!  Something I never want to feel like is a child
molestor, and she's the type to shave.  "Uhn," don't cover your eyes, rub
them one, by one to keep them, and the car on the road.  "Let me think
about it, you before we get into anything." But I can't remember feeling
this excited, ever.
   "I don't understand that," she thought, "I didn't hear you're, abusive
to, I don't guess she talks about your relationship, with us patients."
   "She's a very private person," and I hate it when she brings work home
with her, "So, she compartmentalizes." She doesn't get it, so I sigh, and
turn in the general direction of her neighborhood.  "It doesn't work too
well on her, she's too good at it, and though it's not her, usual
personality, she's fully capable of bouncing it right back atcha." I took a
breath.  Let it out slowly, but didn't count to 7.
   "Well how does it work?"
   I reach out, and slip a curl for my fingers.  "I knew another dishwater
ginger once." Even though I'm a dishwater blonde.  She sighed, and blushed.
"See?  It's easy to insult someone if you say it right.  Like telling a dog
what a 'stupid boooy!' he is, and he just wags his tail like a puppy.  It's
like the slap, and kiss battered wife disorder, thing.  Only it's subtle.
It's too obvious when you hit them, I'm not violent, mind you.  More
defensive, and territorial, but I know what to say to hurt someone, and I
can't always hold it back."
   "You think out loud too." She giggled, but didn't cover her mouth.
   She's got great teeth, "It fosters co-dependence." I rubbed one of mine
with my tongue.
   "Dr.  Maud," that still sounds so cute when the kids say it, "Says I'm
getting a little of that?"
   "It's like the perfect victim, so manipulative personalities like to
instill it.  Your sexual harasser, positive reinforcement used negatively
like 'Hey, babe' from a stranger on the street.  With relationships, we
start off with the romance, and the act, but I ignore stuff that annoy me."
I look over, and she nods back.  "Huh!  I bury it, and let it go bad in the
back of my head until I hate them, drive them away, and blame them for it.
I can be a bitch, when I don't think about it."
   "Yeah," she nodded, "Likeat." Like that.  I let the breath out of my
nose.  She's not making fun of me, she's just young, and still picking up
on the way people talk.  "This is fine," I pulled up, and she jogged off.
Someone honked behind me, so I figured damn the gas, I need a drive. 
Climbing's not that hard, so I can just coast...
   "Huh!" She's perfect, really.  Remind you of someone, at that age?  Shop
nerd, instead of swim jock, but other than that it's the locker room,
instead of the closet, or the workshop.  Strap on the protective gear, and
wind up the power tools to drown everyone out.  Yes, empathy.  While, she's
not in here, right next to me, I can't smell her.  I hit the lighter, and
crack my window.  What?  It helps me think.  Okay, it's mostly the other
biker girls that judge me, I admit there's some conflict between staying in
shape, and destroying my lungs.  But I can drink, and smoke, I know I have
a problem.
   And everything has it's reactions.  Predictably enough, getting a
desirable self image didn't just come with more confidence, but also more
girls hitting on me.  Or any, I guess.  It takes some getting used to, even
when it's not a Girl.  With complimentary issues.  And conflicting ones,
it's just so deliciously complex, which is probably the emotional
attraction.  She's not broken, but what I see in her, the feelings she
can't hide.  She doesn't like her body, I don't know why, but I can
understand that feeling.  Honestly, she gorgeous, in her clumbsy self
conscious way.  I didn't get to see it as much, standing in front of me,
and looking back, with attraction.
   So, the question is why am I uncomfortable, at all.  She's tall, and
beautiful, and young, and pretty, and.  "Huh!" Better drive back to the
office.  She won't be off for a while, but maybe I can slip in between
appointments.  I can't figure this out on my own.
   Hubert {Mf PowAss Prof}
   "Amber, right?" Look at her hair, and smile.  "I heard about you, in
group."
   "And you thought you'd take advantage of it?" She just looks, and acts
dumb, but when she talks about it.
   I nod to the Rules: "See that one?" Point it out, "There's a reason Maud
calls it the Hubert rule." Same reason Charley never makes it.  Or she
doesn't fly him in.  She's starting to understand it, Analytically.  "I
used to go out with Larry." I shrug, nonchalantly.
   I'd been briefed.  She doesn't get it, and it drives her nuts, but
probably can't face the fact that I succeeded where she failed.  I can turn
it off, but I can turn it back on again if I need to.  And she makes it so
easy, looks...  Okay, I'm not all about the looks any more, but she uses
it. As a psychopathic emotional abuser.  Child mollestor, we're pretty
sure. Unfortunately only her older brother, and dolls.  Oh, and herself,
auto-erotic cooldown between victims, cycle of Paranoid Delusions of
Grandur.  Second year, already passed Psyche 101.  Going for Profiler. 
Which doesn't qualify me to wipe someone else's ass, but I don't even need
Empathy, I remember.  Around nineteen I was pretty fucking twisted in my
fantasy land.
   "You drink?" She followed me up, and out of the church.  I grabbed the
stash from behind Ruth's seat, safest place around, honestly, broke her off
a beer.  "Let's just stick past who's the victim is here.  I know what you
are, better'n you do," It took forever to explain to Maud so she didn't
have to fly out, or get Charley on the phone.  At this point, she's
studying us.
   "So what's this about?' she cuts to the chase.
   "This is about figuring yourself out, and managing your behavior down
below the level of a Disorder.  We have a personality," or similar ones,
"Which predisposes us to illegal, and abusive behavior."
   "I'm not abusive." Getting angry.
   "And denial don't make it any easier." I sigh, "Control yourself." I
held up a finger, "First, and foremost.  You can't really control anyone
else without it."
   "Shows what you know." She thinks, "You're too young to be a doctor,
unless you're a genius or something."
   "I said we," I shook my head, and paused to give her a chance.  "I'm
speaking from Experience.  I went through the Anti-social phase.  Hormones,
you didn't get them, but some guys grow out of it, others get stuck, and
devolve into compulsive wretches." Negative imagery.  "Because they don't
learn to control it," I'm not giving her Organization, with her plantacy
set.  "That's the difference between your personality, and disorder."
   "It's not about sex, it's about control." Got it.
   "No," I sigh, "It's supposed to be about sex, so you have to Manage
yourself.  Sure, spontenaety is great, but then you don't know what you're
capable of.  The prognosis down that path is prison, or if you're lucky a
ward before you even start to see your full potential."
   "Where're we going?" She stops, and looks around.
   "Nowhere," shrug, "For a walk." A car drives by.  "It helps me think." I
got out my smokes, handed her one first.
   "Isn't there someplace more, private?" She grins.
   "Impulse control.  How much have you thought about what you'd do there?"
   "IDK," she shrugs, "Depends on where we go." Okay, she's capable of some
organized thought.  Or intent, beforehand.
   "Hope you don't kill anyone." Take a drag, and a sip.  "As long as
you're that impulsive, and aggressive, you're looking at the county hotel,
then the state pen, and possibly death row.  Does that sound like fun?" She
takes a sip.  "Rhetorical anyway.  Look, you're not a Man, man?" Shake my
head, "You don't have the power, status, or legal advantage of that
Privilege.  Instead, you have the hands you're dealt.  Beauty, being
under-estimated, and some physical weakness." I held my hand up, "Denial
won't change that."
   Megan {Mf...}
   "So you're what?" I don't have a handle on this potential relationship,
so I can't decide.  Perks, he looks good, and seems to know what he's
talking about.  In all those technical terms.  On the downside:
   Fear.
   You ever get that nightmare feeling creeping up the back of my skull?  I
like that, that's what scares me.  I don't want to be the victim.  He's not
playing, got that.  Process of elimination.
   "Huh, I can be a role model.  I made it through this," he climbed down,
and picked up my can.  "So I might be able to keep you out of jail.  Or
learn to avoid it.  We're young, we can go anywhere, I'd like to go
anywhere else." I climbed down to his level, but stood back.  I wondered
how fast he was.  He turned back, and walked under the bridge.  I see what
he's doing there, human predator 101.  Beer, someplace private.  Charm. 
And I even look the part.
   "So what's this?" I stop just outside the light.
   "For emotional release." He grinned.  I shrugged, and ducked under the
cement on the top.  Put my hand up, on the ceiling, felt the sharp edges of
bubbles.  Meghan's pretty strong.  He's not as pretty, but he's got to be
stronger.  He didn't get up.
   "Okay?" I slipped my back down the wall.  Dirty, but not filthy, mostly
sand.  Piss smell further back.
   "You ever just watch someone masturbate?" I shook my head.  "Okay, when
you did," nope, can't lie to him.  "I'm sure you noticed everyone does it
different, or has their own style, right?" I nodded.  "Well, it shows them
how you like to please yourself, what turns you on, and how to pleasure
you."
   "Me?" Okay, he shouldn't have to say it 3 times!
   He nodded, "You're the anhedonic.  I'm a hedonist, you want to talk
about it, or get off?" Okay, I'm horny.  He noticed, shouldn't be a
surprise for me.  It's kind of cold, though, and there's still this nagging
fear.
   "Hnnn," I sigh through my nose, "I don't know," and scoot out on the
little hill of sand in the corner.  "How?"
   "Exactly," he spread his hands, "This is how you figure that out."
   "I tried," I unbuttoned my jeans.  "I still haven't found it."
   "Right?" he laughs, "Which tells you to look someplace else.  I can't
trust your rendition of your childhood, but you know it, right?  So, nobody
else can do this for you.  Unless you want to talk about it."
   "Not really." Can't take them off.  As dirty as it would be to drag my
cracks through coarse sand, honestly my pain tolerance when I'm turned on
is higher than the annoyance, or being uncomfortable later on.  No thanks.
"Do you have to see it?" He shook his head, got up on his knees, and
crawled over.  He was doing that on purpose!  Clever!
   His fingers felt over my panties, and the back of my fingers.  "Go on,"
he sat on his hip.  He smelled good, so I closed my eyes.  "Forget the
fantasies, those were distractions." He whispered to me.  "What do I want?"
   "How should I know?" I looked at him.
   "You should ask yourself." He shook his head.  "This isn't hypnosis, I'm
not going to ask you anything I need for me, but I'll talk you through the
thought process.  So close your eyes."
   "Mhkay?"
   "Don't try to breathe, think about it, just clear your mind first.  You
ever meditate before?"
   Have I?  I shook my head, "Sometimes, I think when I'm trying to sleep."
   "Right, like that, only sleep isn't the goal.  Good, like that, now
meditate about people first.  Don't get all emotional," I feel his fingers
on my eyebrows, "Relax, now.  Just feel." He gently pulls my fingers out,
"Like this?  Yeah, just feel, don't start thinking yet, and try to imagine
someone you don't hate." Myself, of course.  "Meghan?" I don't want to hurt
her, but sometimes she just makes me so mad.  She can be so stupid
sometimes!  "D'you mind?" He felt lower, and when did he wet his fingers?
"Just feel, don't get back in your head again."
   Big hands, everything was bigger than Meghan, but the edges of my
panties bit in between my butt, and my thighs.  "I can't help it," his
fingers aren't rough, his nails are polished back so far they don't have an
edge, like Meghan's.  "Uh!" He pulls them out to wet higher up.  Not his
first time!  Obviously.  Kind of like a lesbian, really, or a girl. 
"Transexual." I think, "Doesn't matter if it's boygirl, or girlboy, but..."
Now I'm doing it.  "Something different, boys or girls aren't quite right."
   "Good,"
   "Nh!  Hnnnnn."
   "Well, Larry's out, you're so not his type.  He's gay, so he's mostly
just disgusted by girls, now.  He hated himself, with all that negative
reinforcement heaped on her growing up."
   "What was she like?"
   "I didn't know her back then, well I met her before he started coming
out, physically.  Very feminine in fact, he never had any male role-models.
Until Charley, of course."
   Yes, I'd heard the story.  Molested by a homeless guy.  "Nhn?" Just
feeling is easy when it feels like this.  I can only imagine what Charley
looked like, or Larry did, as a schoolgirl.  Uniform dress.
   "There, good." he took my hand.  "You mind?" Put it in front of his
pants.
   "Oh," I looked down, felt it.  "Nice."
   He chuckled, "I'm flattered," but saw he wasn't lying, to make him feel
large.  No need.  "I need release too.  That's another way you can tell
it's not abuse.  If it's not sharing, or biased so it's all good for one,
and bad for the other, then you know you're making a Victim." Love that
word!  "That's a bad thing.  Victims tell the cops, even if they find the
body, you can't get rid of all the evidence, and that's a lot of work." He
guessed.  "You know the opposite of a Sadist?"
   "A masochist?"
   "Trick question.  Sadism is 2 things.  Causing pain, and getting
pleasure out of it in return.  Shadenfreuda.  Masochism is getting pleasure
out of being hurt, but that's not the only thing you can turn around.  I
love giving pleasure, have you ever gotten emotional release just from
getting someone off?"
   "Meghan." It can be so hard, sometimes.
   "Well, I got off on that, finally." He chuckled.  "That's Hedonism,
then, there's no reason to persecute you, or turn against you.  However you
think it in your head, if you just play with their feelings to get what you
want, you break their heart when you leave them.  Promise forever, for one
night.  You can fake empathy, but they can feel the lack of it, eventually.
It hurts them.  I don't understand that part any better than you, but I
know it.  If you don't hurt them, then it's, uh!" He twitches, and runs
down my nuckles.  "Hn hh!" And his fingers twitched, and I twitched around
them.
   "Hh!" not the most powerful orgasm ever, but that meant I could feel the
release quicker.  I relaxed, tried not to slip unconscious, even though I
never did.  "UhH!" I sat up, "Whew, I.  What did you just get off on?" It
sounded so dry, and sterile the way he was talking.  Now he licks his
fingers.
   "Mm?  Uh sorry, the power trip.  You know that, right?  Yeah, well, that
was getting into Mind Control, which can be a pretty intense fantasy."
   "What's that?" Well, I'm guessing Mind Control, just like he said. 
"Like?"
   "The ultimate power-trip," he sighs, and rolls around to the bar. 
"Emotions are easy to manipulate, once you control your own.  You can't
really control someone else, but you can make suggestions.  Especially if
they're vulnerable." He looks over, pulls out two smokes, and lights them
for us.  "The mind is the big-leagues.  If you can learn to hack it you can
potentially predict behavior, and.  It's not like 'Look into my eyes'!" he
held up a claw hand, but they did look scary, "Dracula mesmorizing... 
You're at a major disadvantage, because it's their head, but it's
fascinating in there." He tapped my temple with the filter.
   "Oh yeah?" I challenged him.
   "I know you.  I was you, in a different body.  Not this one, I had to do
some work."
   "It worked fine," I rubbed his shirt.
   Curls rolled under there I could feel them.  "You mind?"
   "Sorry," I held back.
   "No," he shook his head Duh, "That's your line.  Ask don't assume."
   "Oh," I reached for the bottom of his shirt, "You mind?"
   "Not at all." He sighed.  Hairy tummy too, rippley.  "Your mind..." he
continued, and I rubbed his arm.  Up under the sleeve, bicep, and triceps.
I kind-of tuned him out I guess, but if it's real important, I guess he'll
repeat it, 3 times.
   Larry {Mt NS}
   "Hey 'Bert," I look away from him, "What's up?" Finally turned out to be
his issues.
   "I heard you met Amber." He Does know how to drop a name.  "And I think
you can help me, help her with her issues." It didn't end well.
   "How's that," working out for you?
   "Just help me understand her." he sat down, "He's like Charley, but more
preferential to children.  Girls, and you know about the underlying gender
issues.  Ruth can't understand him, Maud's trying to, but she needs me to
explain some things."
   "A little more warning next-time?" I put the finger up.  Didn't touch
his lips, but in front of them.  "Which part?" Brush my bangs out of my
eyes.  I don't like this blue, the way it faded out.
   "See, that's it, there's no language for that part, but the Victim
Rehearsal.  That's the part I don't get, dressing up like, and playing the
part of the victim to get aroused."
   "She does that?" I sat down, and flicked off the long ash.
   "In underwear," he held up his right hand to God, "I swear she's a
Transvestite."
   "How does that work?" I shook my head, and giggled.  "Hmh."
   "IDFK," he shrugged.
   I hugged him, "I miss you." Big brother, kindof.  Adopted, obviously.
   "How are you doing with?"
   "This last one?" Well, "I got off to it, finally.  The memory, not the
image of it, I think.  Idaknow, in retrospect it's kind of hot, getting a
handjob, from a little girl.  Hmph, an unique PoV, but I haven't fully
processed it yet." How do I feel about all of that?  "She's not violent?"
   "Not at all, freezes up, and goes passive at the first sign.  I don't
know what that means."
   "Well what do you guys have so far, in the way of diagnoses?"
   "Settling on Histrionic, pathological liar, gender's harder to pin down.
Sexually about as female as it gets, capital G, rated X.  Scratch
anhedonia, she's paraphillic, dominant, or can affect submissive for Victim
Rehearsal.  Very auto-erotic, plays both parts, mentally and physically
with emotional distance.  She's almost robotic, atonia." I saw some of
that. "May be pathologically incapable of violence, but with the risk
level, we can't play it too safe.  I think she believes she's physically
incapable of it, and I don't want to disillusion her.  Deadly calm when
she's angry."
   "Hmh," I thought, "I never did anything like that," out loud... 
"Neither having any victims, nor any desires for them.  She is aggressive,
hmm.  I'm going to have to think about it."
   "He's old hand at," Rock rock rock, "Doesn't even have to think about
it." I can relate.  "And also exhibitionistic." It is not as if I haven't
thought about her.
   "Well that's about vicarious displacement," He put his hand on mine.
   "I know." On my leg.  The main thing it we ran out of what we could do
together.
   "So not in the mood," I brushed him off.  Flipping off my butt, I went
to find my friends.  Switch my head around for the straight age-appropriate
ones.  It stuck in the back of my mind, picked up thoughts, rolling around.
I'm not sure of how to describe my thought processes, but Dr.  Maud says
I'm getting better at it.  So she's like Charley.  Chester really, but I
never had knew him as that.
   Just doesn't look it, of course, I'm bigger and older than her, and how
do you learn all of that so fast?  Skateboarding, I love to watch
skateboarding.  I suck at it, but it's great to watch.  So, if I was like
Charley, when I was like that, then I'd be inside the fence of course. 
With all those little girls running around in uniform!  Nobody noticed my
laugh.  I scoffed anyway.  I just don't know, what it's like.  What do you
do, chase them around with snakes, and worms, and frogs?
   IDK how Charley thought, either.  Neither can Ruth, nor can Maud explain
it to me, and 'Bert knows what it's like.  "Got to go," I grabbed my bag,
and put my phone away.  Ooh, chainlink.  Didn't come up to my armpits, so I
reached over, and undid my pants with my other hand.  So, what's it really
like, feeling predatory?  I don't want to really, but it's a masculine
thought process I'm not yet ready to admit I'm entirely incapable of.  Not
to the point of victimizing anyone, why I would never, but I don't like
feeling vulnerable to them, and not knowing how they think is a big part of
it.  And it's a pretty cool thing, to think about.  A pretty hot fantasy.
   Amber {TF Mole Cons}
   "Hey," I looked over, "You busy?" Now what are you doing back there?
   "Larry?" Camoflage, looks good on him.  "Never!" He laughed, "You stuck
back there?"
   "No," He reached up, "Don't climb over, just." He pulled my hand down,
"Can you reach through the bars?"
   "What for?" I didn't see any handcuffs.  Both hands, empty.  Well, he
had my wrist, and "Oh!" Ripstop!
   "You just scared me before." She looked down.  Girl in a cage, with a
cute little mustache, and emo-bangs.
   "Huhahah!" I felt around, through them.  "Fucking button fly!"
   "Here," she helped.  I sniffed, it smelled like pee.  Fresh pee.  "This
is how we did it, me, and Charley." Not Charley, and I?  She doesn't never
talk like that.  "Through the fence, so he didn't have to control himself.
He couldn't get me." It's hard!  And cute, I don't say it, but I think
about it.
   Fucking stupid, god damned.  Yeah, "God, damn!"
   "I know, right?" She grins up exitedly.  "No," she pushed her hand out
of the way.  "Like this." I bend down for a closer look, and damn if that's
not the most masculine pussy I've ever seen.  And smelled, it's still, well
you know what it is, but I could almost smell the hormones.  "May I?" I
reached through, and took his narrow little hips.  Sniffed, and got down on
my knees to slip my chin through.  "Nhmg!" Mwalm!  "Mh?" I looked back, and
up.  "You're a virgin?" She just looked at me, "Of course you are!" It's
all about her, or it should be.  How am I going to learn to get him off, in
the second helping without a frame of reverence?  She kept pulling at it,
with her fingertips, and the end of her thumb.  "I don't really like," he
put his hand down, "Cunnilingus," and covered her other mouth.
   "You mind," I look back down, "If I suck it?"
   "No, that's great," she rubbed my hair.  "Nh, yeah!" Standing over me.
Okay, Huey let it slip out.  I try to imagine what Maud must look like. 
Not that he'd seen her, so not her type, but then that means neither am I.
He knew, though, there's still secrets in our relationship.  And mystery,
she was born a boy, nothing more than that.  And she's asexual, except
apparently with Ruth.  That's even worse than an, or adhedonic.  I'm not
real sure which I am.  But I'm learning, and there's just barely enough to
get a short stroke, in my lips.  It keeps slipping out if I literally try
to suck, but if I hold his hips still.  It's so hard to think him with my
chin bumping against her lips.
   Short stroke means high revs, it's just tricky to do with just your
lips, so I roll them in around my teeth, and try it with just my head.  "Oh
yeah," he helps with his hands in my curls.  "Nh, yeah!" Bucks a little
until it slips out, so I have to catch it again.  I pinch it between my
fingers, and kiss the thick puff in front.  It feels kind of hard, not like
muscle, bone, or even cock, but, erect?  On her shaved bone, I licked
around it like a scrotum.  I got the rhythm, so I picked it up, and licked
her navel.  She giggled, and twitched in my fingers.  Ruth loves that, I
wonder if they'd done anything together?  So I licked it out, but she
finished quickly.  Not the 15 second twitch of a male, but shorter than I
expected.
   I hope it was intense.  She ran off, and I climbed over.  I didn't
notice before, but there's a bit of a blind spot back here, and next to no
traffic this time of afternoon.  How did he even know I would walk back
this way?  Did he stalk me?  "Yeah," I got down, and pulled my pants down.
I had to pee, too, but got I was horny.  Maybe try that fetish next.  It's
not that filthy.  My crotch sopped into me, around my fingers.  I had to
get in there, pull them aside, and finally down, over my knees.  I bent
down, and sniffed them.  Fresh piss, it's not that bad.
   Once an instance, twice a coincidence, 3 times a pattern.  So, don't
make it a pattern, try everything, "Within reason." I can imagine her
finger.  Just don't ride that grove into a rut.  Ruth had to explain that
one, records.  Front, or back?  I have 2 thumbs, anal.  Didn't bring any
lube.  All right, faggot, you got me.  2 guys, now that's fucking hot.  So
beat off from behind, bend over.  "Nh, Yeah!" Hold my clit down so I can
catch it with my knuckle.  "Uh!" It hurt, so good, so I pulled out for a
quick spot, and made the firecracker again.  "Ah fuck!"
   "Amber?" I stopped, holding my breath.  "What're you doing back there?"
   "Hubert?" I peeked out.  "Oh good."
   "You want a hand with that?"
   "Or two," I nodded, getting up.
   Meghan {iF Saph Camp}
   Her fingers shook!  I've never been camping before.  Hiking, yeah, but
spending the night?  "Amber, and I didn't really have a curfew, but we
mostly went out in the day." Rednecks, among other things.  She pulled her
bags out of the back, clipped them on, and tied them onto her thighs.  Hand
made, holster, and knife.  Right.
   "It's just a .22," she caught my eyes.  "For snakes, and dogs.  There's
some ferals down there, give me a hard time.  2 legged varmints if'n they
get ornery." Not Yosemite Sam, but maybe his lesbian cousin.  I laugh. 
"Not expecting bears, maybe the report would scare one off," she shrugs. 
"What?"
   "Balloo!" I laugh.
   "From the jungle book?" she thought, "I don't think I remember being
called a Bear before!" We both laugh.  "Grab your bike, it's down this
way." Alongside the creek, it kept getting bigger and we had to climb up to
the road for a bridge when it ran into the river.  Mountain bike, got some
longer cranks, but the seat down.  Kind-of hard to keep up, even with all
her gear, especially in the climbs.  Beautiful trail, water alongside it
most of the way, and usually in sight.  Still pretty much spring, but more
than warm, with the wind from our speed to cool us.  Then another stream,
but she turned up it.  I groaned, and shifted down, way down before
swinging onto the single track.  "Uh!" Almost like a BMX ramp, all by
itself, probably at least a mile down from the gate, and anything else.  I
couldn't even hear traffic.
   "You ready for the hike, or you want to take a break?" There's time,
apparently.  All weekend.  Grades, I have to do better, so school nights
count.
   "Huh!" I wipe my forehead, and drop my helmet, "Yeah, let me catch my
breath." She shrugs, and pulls out her pipe.
   "Pw pwh," she shuts her lighter.  "C'mere,"
   Her fingers shake, and I feel my heart pounding.  I don't care how old
she is, or what she looks like, but I can see her beauty.  And the way her
chest moves when she breathes.  She unzipped her top a while ago.  I sat
down, and she cupped my shoulder.  Leaning back, my hair brushed her arm,
and I settled back, relaxed.  She set her pipe down when it went out.
   "I've never been with a real lesbian before."
   "I know," she sighed, "In a word, patience.  No need to rush, whenever
you're ready." She rubbed my hand, "Whenever you feel ready."
   I'm bad at this.  But they're right there, and her hand follows mine up
to the side of her chest.  "Swim-suit?"
   "It's a surprise," she put her finger on my lips.  She closed her eyes,
and let it fall, so yeah, I took the hint.  "Mhh." Through her nose, I
brushed her hair out of her face, and palmed her cheek.  Soft warm lips. 
British smile.  That's not a compliment, I can get past it.  Sweet-tooth,
too.  No hardware yet.  But she tasted smokey, so I didn't mind.  Strong
tongue, fought back, like a thumb war, and her chest was warming up.  I
never felt that, under my hand before.
   "You mind," I felt down her tummy.  Firm fat?  I can't feel the muscle
through it, but I sure know it's there.
   "Oh," she chuckled, "You don't have to ask, honey." A gust hissed in the
leaves, and the spots of light flickered around us.  I couldn't chose, so
she lay back, and I turned up on my hip.  Her chest flattened, some, and
her tummy.  I pulled the cup back, and got one out.  "Mh," I kissed it, and
felt it pop.  Not real hard, but large, and hot with blood.  I played
circles around her tummy until I felt the little dip.  Maud told me, 'She
can drive, but you have to get her going.' And this drives her wild.  "Nh,"
she giggles, "NhHnhnhN!" And pushes my hand.  A little further down, honey.
Her knees come up, and she pushes off the ground, so I help her out of her
pants.  One leg, then the other.  "Put them under me." She sat back sown.
Or relaxed, and let her leg down.
   Matching bikini, oddly enough.  Dark green, not really a girl's color,
or the Army's.  Just a simple bikini, tied on the side.  "Hm!" Hairy, but
cut short, and it felt like just on top.  I brushed it with my palm, and
cupped the soft flesh underneath.  Really very soft.  "How, do." She took
my other hand.  Curled up my pinky, and first finger.  "Oh." I nodded, "I
know this one." Felt the wet spot, we won't need lube, she told me.  I felt
some out to wet her higher.  Really have to hunt for it, but she grunted
when I found it.
   "Nyeah." I dipped more out, and rubbed it around, got her lips, and,
skin.  She really has a lot of it, wet.  She felt down, and rubbed at it so
I went back in.  "Mh, yeah."
   "I know," I rubbed her shoulder, then further down.  I bent over held
her nipple to suck it some more, but it wouldn't come in enough to hit it
with my tongue.  So, I opened my mouth wide, and covered my teeth with my
lips.  "MhuhUH?" She was excited, and I was thirsty, so i kissed my way
down her tummy.  I liked it, I thought I might not, but I guess because I
was always told I was supposed to.  And it's not all fat.
   Her boobs are fake, and I don't know how to feel about that.  She lost a
lot of weight, 'Had to backfill' but they feel weird.  I might have to get
used to them.  I want to, though, and the nipples still work, so I shrug,
and climb over her leg.  Wow, sweaty too, but fresh, and even outside, a
bit body-odery.  I'm an athlete, who am I to complain?  I don't pull my
hand out, she so close already, so I just move my fingers, and I think I've
got the gist of it.  "Oh, woah!" she took a deep breath, and moaned so loud
it sounded like a howl.  Almost reminded me of a hound, or some other
creature I'd never heard make a sound like that.  My fingers slipped on her
lips, and I shook a drop off my knuckle.  Well, she helped, she wasn't
exactly holding still under me.  "Uhm" she pushed my hands back, "That's
good, huh!" she licked, and sucked at my fingers.  "Mh huh!"
   I wondered if I'd ever come like that!
   Ruth {Fi NS}
   "You mind if I," rubbed her tummy through her shirt.  Oooooooh!
   "You don't have to ask, either," she looked over and bit her lip, "But,
if you don't mind if I take a dip?"
   "Sure," I sniffed, "I'm getting a little gamey too."
   "Huh?" we laughed.
   "Well yeah," she helped me up, and I grabbed my, things.  Glad she likes
them, I just don''t want to have to pack underwear too.  They rinse out
fine.
   Tied on, she's already down at the water, dropping her denim shorts, and
pulled off her tank top.  "Uh!" Single piece!  Shaking my head, I pull out
the poncho, towels, and unroll them.  The pipe runs out, so I tuck it back
with the lighter.  Listen to her splash in, laughing.  Kind of a tenor,
what do I know about pitch, but low, for a girl.  And so tall.  Look to the
heavens, "Thank you!" I don't lace up my boots to climb down.
   Tanned too, I better get the funk off, and out before I chase her off,
so I find a root, and hang on.  The current isn't that bad, but she just
treads water, forward, and keeps up.  I just kind of lay back, and float.
"So how's you, and Amber?"
   "Didn't work out," she shrugs, and sweeps her hands back for a double
kick.  It's hypnotic, really, so graceful, like a jellyfish?  "I can't
satisfy her, she's a psycho, byegones."
   "Alley Mcbeal?"
   She nodded, "It's on Netflix."
   "I know!"
   "Right?  I heard you liked that show, and I didn't know there was
lesbians in it."
   "Debatable, actually." I shrug, "Okay, Anne Heche did a picture perfect
Tourettes," we had a girl like that, at St.  Agnes, "And Portia de Rossi.
Uhn!"
   "I know, right?"
   "Well, she's like.  Gay isn't the only way that can happen, and Ellen,
you don't have to be gay to love Ellen."
   "She's funny."
   "The dish," she laughs, "Oh that's mostly a gay thing, but you know, the
hollywood gossip?" I wiggled my finger.  "I'm not a People," Magazine
"Person, but yeah, I'm up on queer culture."
   "That kiss though," ?  "Alley Mcbeal?"
   "Yeah, that's not gay.  Neither of them were, so it was more like
Hollywood Brokeback gay.  Uh," I rolled my eyes, "The only one gay involved
in that whole project played the homophobe.  It was written by a Jewish
spinster from the Bronx, and there's things in there that're
dangerous-to-abusive if you tried it in real life." It's a pain in the ass,
really.  "Quad," ?  "Randy Quad." I rolled my eyes, "So anyways, it's like
porn.  Softcore sure, but they don't make it for us.  Men make porn and all
that objectifying media for each-other, but they don't really care about us
girls.  Lesbos are hot, though, so the vast majority of FF is written by
guys with no idea what the fuck they're talking about."
   "Oh," she turned, swam to the edge, pushed herself out with a grunt, and
reached down.  "Need a hand out?"
   I bit back no, I've got it.  I wanted her hand up.  "We better go soon,"
I put my hand over my eyes, "If we're gonna make with some light left." So
she can see the surprise.  I made it for me, but I bet she'd love it.
   "Where're we going?" she ran up like a BMX biker.  I'm guessing a
cruiser, at least.  She helped me up.  ?
   "Huh," I grinned, "My place.  We've got a place up in the city too, but
whenever I need to get away," or take someone away for a nice romantic
weekend.
   "I bet it's beautiful," she leans down, and kisses me.  So, we get all
dried off, and dressed, and packed up.  She pulls her weight.  "I like your
bags." I zip in the poncho.
   "Thanks," I turn my thigh, "This one's made for cameras," and a lens,
I'm not photographer, but "Goodwill.  They're a bitch to get balanced."
   I start up.  "Scrambling, and climbing is good exercise.  So's swimming,
and biking, but this works out everything, eventually.  I think it makes
for a more practical body."
   "Uh huh?"
   "I don't need your help out here, honey.  I like it, I love the gesture,
but this is my trail.  I beat it myself." Took a couple springs to get it
high enough.  It's almost finished, in that perfect perpetual almost
finished I hope I can keep a lifetime.
   "Uh," she's out of breath, "You own this land?"
   "Maud's got some lawyer friend looking into the whole legality of it,"
Squatters rights, "I can camp here, and if they don't catch me in 3 years,
I own it." Not that I recognize their authority over me.  I'm not a legal
person, in their system.
   "And you'd really move out here?"
   "I'd spend the rest of my life out here if they let me, but not alone."
For instance, my right to marry.  I don't want to adopt her.  Larry doesn't
like it here either, but if you don't like this you won't love me.  It's a
package deal, baby.
   "Sounds kinda nice, really."
   Meghan {...}
   Okay, how can she smoke, carry her, and her gear up this hill, and keep
talking the whole time?  "Uh huh?" Huh huh huh...  "What altitude is this?"
   She shrugs, "bout the same as in town.  So anyway..."
   "Uhn!" She makes me look out of shape, and I hate it.  We're going to
have to hike back down, then ride our bikes back up, tomorrow, night, at
the latest.  Maybe sunday.
   "Here we go," she helped me up the lose wet sand.  Like quicksand, only
slowly washing down a crack in the hill.  "What do you think?" She doesn't
have a house.  Just some piles of stuff under some leaves, and a flappy net
thing, and some tarps.  "Can you start a fire?" She puffs, and holds back
her lighter.  I turn around, and drop it.  Brass, okay there, pick it up.
They mentioned she thought of herself as an artist.  Might have even said
Sculpter.
   "Wow." She looked back, "Is that you?"
   "It's supposed to be The Goddess.  Still working a lot out, on her."
Looked like her, body.  Not up to the face yet, there's a head, but there's
even bark where the face should be.  "Here," she handed me a baggy of
sawdust, and wood chips.  "I figure Creation was part of her aspect, so
went for pregnant.  I found the perfect stump up here."
   "Next to a waterfall?" It's really more of a, what's the word, it
doesn't fall that far, and there's not much washing over it.
   "No, I built the dam." I got up next to it, which made me tall enough to
look over.  "How deep is it?"
   "Deep enough to swim?" I nodded,
   "I don't touch the bottom unless I dive down, but you wouldn't make it
very far." There was a couple trees growing out of it, then the slopes
start back up it in the back.  Little trickle of creek, kind of folded
together.  "Not much current..." She was tying a tarp to some trees, I
looked up, and saw green needles, it was still growing.  All green tarps,
she took another one over, and tied it to another one.  Then she unfolded
another one and tied it up.  I just climbed up, and watched her, resting my
arms on the log in the top of the bank.
   Maud {TMF NS Prof.}
   "So doctor," I sat down, "What's wrong with our daughter?"
   Sigh, "There's a lot of dry clinical terms," complex enough without
having to translate it to lay terms.  "In brief, she's an opportunistic
sexual predator.  It seems to be motivated by hatred, displaced to everyone
else, to enhance her self image." Even dumber down.  "She's like a Child
Molestor, but isn't limited to that.  It's not about attraction, age, nor
even sex, but vulnerability.  It makes her impulsively exploit that
vulnerability.  That girl she babysat, was such an irresistible
opportuniy."
   The shame is under-reporting.  "When a girl molests another girl, and
manipulates the situation into a game, the victim is unprepared for the
sexualization." And the offender apparently fixates on the hymen,
virginity. Once that's gone, she loses interest, unless there's a greater
aberration to escalate to.  "Amber is also a rapid evolver.  Each release
is less intense than the last, so she had to try harder for less reward."
   "You said it's not about sex, but now she gets off on it?"
   "Not sexually." I shook my head, "It's sexuAl, physically, but
emotionally tied to her self esteem.  She feels better about herself, the
assaults reinforce that image, so it's like the rush for Compulsive
Gamblers, or other similar habituation."
   "So how isn't that sex?" The father asked the questions, because his
wife couldn't stop crying.
   "It's more intense than sex.  She repressed herself to the point that
she can barely feel physical pleasure, without it being at least somewhat
abusive.  So, the emotional release is easier, and more rewarding."
   "How did this happen?" she sobbed, "What did we do wrong?"
   Sigh, "Personally?  Probably nothing.  She won't talk about the
experience, which I believe means she was abused, and won't admit it.  She
can lie about being victimized, but can't even think of herself as
vulnerable, or exploited.  However, that means I can't believe anything she
tells me about her childhood."
   "What if we tell you?"
   "Is there any abuse you know of?" That would certainly help.
   "Her brother," he nodded, "Or step brother, my stepson." The father. 
"He, helped potty train her, and gave her baths, as a toddler.  We, didn't
know but,"
   "I walked in on them." She sobbed, "He had her on the bed, on a towel,
and."
   "Naked?" I guessed.  She shook her head, hard, as if to shake the image
out of her head.
   "Nh!  He had his pants open, and he was,"
   "Touching her." She went back to crying wordlessly, and locked up.  "I'm
sorry, I'm so so sorry, but this is necessary to answer some important
questions." I felt like I was emotionally abusing her, now that I knew what
that was like.  "She's not violent." I presented some positive, "It's not
your fault, none of it." You don't have to blame victims, they already do
it themselves.  "I know what you must have thought, but you can't pay
attention always, or forever.  These experiences are so rare, you can go
lifetimes between them, so when they do occur, very few are prepared, nor
even aware of them.  I will have to talk to your son, though." He won't
admit it, it probably didn't stop there, just force him to hide it better,
but at some point it may have been her template for the Anger-Retaliatory
humiliation.  The emotional abuse, and verbal fetishism.
   The only way to understand is by tracking down the cause.
   Meghan {Ff Pheb, Mole.}
   "Mh?" Her fingers were so soft.  Just the tips weren't rough, but she
had to get them real wet with spit in her mouth.  She doesn't like to kiss,
I think she's ashamed of her teeth, but she loves my nipples, and bats away
at them with her tongue.  Sucked in, popped out, bulging with blood, I can
almost feel my pulse in them.  She breath on my chest, and the deep
pounding.  Thudding in my ears.  Her tongue moves back, and I gasp, feel
her damp fingers brushing up to her thumb.
   Just the edge of the tip, her smooth nail rolls back the skin, and she
holds it back behind the head.  "Nh!" She pushes it between her
fingerprints, and pulls the skin out over it, with them.  "Nguh!" I try to
take a breath.  "Uhuh!" Amber never touched me like this, I didn't know
how, but it was almost like.  "Huh!" Jerking off the way she pinched, and
pulled on it.  "HnhHhHhH!" Her fingers sank into my wetness, and my leg
flopped on, my other leg, the bottom one.  "Ah," I grabbed under my but,
"Cramp!" She just relaxed, and held still while I pinched, and rubbed it
out.  "H!  Hih hinH!" I caught my breath, and swallowed.  Her fingers
twitched back, inside me, and I couldn't keep my eyes open.
   "Oh!" She gently pushed my hip down, and bent my knee.  I pulled my
other one up, under her, climbing over.  Brushing me with her soft curves.
   "Hmmm!" I took another breath, and held it.  Felt her breath on my lips,
her licking her fingers, on either side of my tight stretched lips. 
Between them, the tip of her tongue slipped up, and I felt her lip roll
over her teeth.  My skin, pushing back to the bone, pinching me, my.  I
don't try not to think about it, but.  It's not a boy, it's a little man,
in a boat.  I can't fuck anything with it, it's not a penis, I can't even
pee through it.  Or standing up, there's all this stuff in the way.  I
really makes a mess, honestly.
   My wrinkles squish wetly around on her tongue, and she pulls back, to
suck on it.  It in, enough to touch it with her tongue, between her lips.
   "Augh!" I like her haircut, the unruly mop of curls, no red in them. 
Not toilet water ginger, a tampon floating in it.  Golden, with a little
rust maybe?  Gold doesn't rust, but if it did.  I bet it'd sparkle like
Ruth's twisting in the sun when she turns her head.  It looks like Amber's
in the firelight, though.  "Hnnnnnh!" Double!
   "You mind?" she kneeled up, put one leg up on the foot next to me.  I
looked up her thick soft thigh to her beard.  And another thing.  Amber was
just too little.
   "So," I sat up on my elbow, "How do you be butch?" I listened to her,
mostly.  I didn't say anything else, with my mouth full.  But I thought it,
"Ruth!" You know, that's not a very girly name?  What a way to wake up!
   Amber {Tf NS Psyc}
   "Hey," I looked over, "You moved your desk." She nodded.
   "Have a seat." New chair, recliner with a handle on the side.  She took
the old one, pulled it out from the corner, and sat down.
   "Comfy!" didn't stick my feet out.
   "I talked to Jeffrey." I held my breath.  Nodded?  "He didn't tell your,
secrets, out loud." No, but she could totally read his mind.
   I swallowed, "He still in college?"
   "Dropped out." Where were her glasses?  Oh yeah, back on the desk.  She
rubbed her nail under the side of her jaw.  Her teeth look blunt, but her
jaw looks strong, of course.  Not a secret in group, she's a boy once. 
There's just no way to use it against her.  None.
   "Girlfriend?"
   "Ha!" honest laugh.  "No, you know that." I stop myself nodding.  Then
go right ahead.  Try to hide it, or don't.  She's got my number.  "Now do
you want to talk about it?" I counted back the last 2 times I'd heard that.
"He potty-trained you.  He didn't stop when she caught him?"
   I closed my eyes.  "I don't remember that." Mhm?  "No, I do, but I
didn't.  He was so big, I saw it, but it was, up there." She scoffed.  "All
right I remember mom," I rolled my eyes in my lids.  "She was so mad!"
   "She spanked him?"
   "Hard," I nodded, "He screamed."
   She nodded, her face pained.  Believed me.  "I didn't see it, but he
stopped.  She didn't hit him all the time, but when we were bad, yeah."
shrug, "She spanked us.  Dad didn't, he worked, she didn't.  She didn't
leave us alone, together.  Ever, i pretty much didn't think about it."
   "He started up again." I licked my front teeth.
   "Umh," I pointed, "I was missing this one, and this was growing back."
   "So, seven, or eight?" she looked up, "Which would make him thirteen, or
fourteen." and figured it out.
   "About," I agreed.  "Fine, I get it.  If I don't talk about it, I just
get worse.  Got that.  My problem is I have no idea how to talk about it."
Nor even think about it.
   "Of course," she sat back, "That's what you're here to learn." I sighed,
and closed my eyes.  "Relax, forget the emotions, or leave them buried for
now, and try to remember what he did."
   The first time, I remember?  I was playing, I don't remember which toys,
but they were on the floor.  I was sitting, behind them.  He didn't come
in, sit down.
   "Good."
   "He touched my back, and my hair.  Then he went in the bathroom, and
peed.  I heard him grunting, and looked back.  You know he was jerking off.
Mom was in the kitchen.  Both doors wide open, he looked over at me,
smiled, and closed his eyes.  I bet he heard me giggle.  Huh!  Left handed,
he's not left handed, but he used that one, so I could see it."
   "Did he flash you a lot?"
   "And peeped, I don't remember how long, or when it started." Or what
that felt like.  Weird.  "Uh?  I guess he touched me.  By 'accident', but
too young, and ignorant to suspect it?" She nodded.  I closed my eyes. 
"Hm. He, started playing with me, whenever he could."
   "He mollested you how?"
   "He took forever.  Like a year fondling me through my clothes, then in
my pants, and underwear.  " I blinked.  "He watched me pee, and wiped me.
No, back then when I was." I sat up, held my hands out at different
heights. "About 4, 5?" I shook my head, and opened my eyes again.  "Huh!"
emotional release!  "Wow, okay.  It was after potty-training, and mom beat
the hell out of him.  I don't remember if she hit him before that.  Uh?  I
had to pee at the park, and he held me up.  Behind a bush." Was I ever that
little?
   "Good," she sat up, "That's very good for now."
   "What does that mean?" I wondered, "What does any of that mean?"
   "I don't know," she stood up, "It means we can start figuring that out."
   I felt drunk, but I didn't want to let any more out, where she could
hear me.  Of course I talk to myself, noone else understands me.  Not even
'Bert.  But, now that I have some idea how, maybe I can explain myself, to
myself.  What does it mean?  The biggest missing piece must be the
potty-training, maybe even started when I was in diapers.  Pee, he likes
pee.  He pees to simulate getting off when he can't get it up.  Let it
trickle around his finger.
   So much bigger then mine, I can't do it, there's not a big enough
finger. So yeah, phallic, displacement?  I actually wish I could ask Dr. 
Maud.  Facepalm.  Took a while to come back out, but that's something to
try.  Pissing around his prick, in the outside.  I need to find a place,
private enough to be sexual.  Or find 'Bert, call him, or.  No, figure this
out myself.  What the fuck, how can I think?
   Okay, Jeff is the key.  Or the one I got now, the new one.  So, what can
I remember?
   Pottymouth.  Yeah, he talked to himself, I thought he ment me, but I was
so confused, and distracted by the weird feeling.  Okay, I've got to be old
enough to process that.  Nobody can help, there's no words.  No fear, not
turned on, I couldn't.  I was too young.  Did I ever feel that again?  No,
I avoided Shame.  That's it, I felt like there was something wrong with me.
He didn't tell me that, I just cried.  And he called me a baby.  Not 'Baby'
like Babe, but Crybaby.
   He didn't hurt me, he didn't have to, he somehow convinced me it was all
a game.  Victim Rehearsal?  Not the therapy, but whenever I played my own
victim.  Only he used me as a practice victim, and sent me out.  To get
other kids, just like he showed me.  I tried with boys, but i couldn't get
it to work, and then the girls just ran away, when they met Jeff, so I
stopped taking them to meet Jeff.
   And then I grew up.  Meghan is intimidating.  I thought I loved her, I
actually started believing it after a while, but I don't hate her.  Not any
more, she's my worst victim.  That's how you scare them away, victims
always leave.  I don't love 'Bert any more, I lust after his perviness, and
usually don't get off until he's gone, but maybe that's my problem.  When
did I ever get off with someone else?  Just Meghan, and I'm never going to
find another one.
   I swear I'll never treat another one like I did her.  I wish I could go
back, stop myself, kill myself before I ever saw her.  OMFG how can I lie
to myself like that?  How can I tell myself that's not abuse, he, or she
wasn't my victim.  Is 'Bert the first person I ever had sex with?  Not
love, not abuse, just sex.  Not even sex, we molest each other with some
fucked up roles.  But never Brother/Sister?  Really?  Just totally avoided
that perfectly obvious fantasy, because it wasn't a fantasy.  It doesn't
turn me on, ANYthing but that?
   Because I was a victim.  I don't want to feel that, so I abuse people? I
mean yeah, they totally let me.  I have to laugh at how easy it was, but
the whole time I was humiliating them in my mind.  Making them animals,
treating them like, I don't know.  Nobody acts like that, and it made me
feel special?
   Ew.  No I really hate myself.  What's wrong with me?  I knew I was a
freak, but I have no way to kill myself.  Here, now, after not thinking
about it my whole life, the best thing, for everyone.  That'll show them.
No, don't go anywhere stupid.  Like the highway, or the overpass a few
blocks down.  Too far to walk, I'd never make it.  I can't even get up, I
just want to shatter, and blow away.
   I don't need a knife, or a gun, ever.  And how long have they been
conspiring to keep me away from them?  A knife, I mean.  Maud had one, a
knife block, I saw it the first night I went over to her house.  Nothing
sharper than a fork, and every single one that came, and did something to
me.  Not sex, sexual, but Berts the only one doing it openly.  But Larry?
That wasn't a fantasy, I chased him in the corner, and pounced on him, then
he came back, and knew exactly where to find me.  Then Bert, right after
that?
   Why?  What does that mean?  What's taking Dr.  Maud so long with a
diagnosis?  I know they say she doesn't understand it, but even with the
whole group, her team?  I'm sure she's got what's best for me, but I can't
help feeling violated.  I feel violated?  When did I start understanding
that?  When I remebered feeling violated.  That's why I was ashamed, that's
why I was crying, that's why these tears aren't even wet enough to turn me
on.
   "Because it's not about sex," I pull my panties up with me.  My feet
were going to sleep anyway.  Now, I just need to figure out what it is.
   Ruth {F?  NS}
   "Yeah?" Don't recognize the number.
   "Ruth?"
   "Who's this?" I see a couple spots.
   "Amber." Pull In.
   "YTF are you calling me!" Then?  Skip [P] for [R], breathe, don't hit
that bumper, check my mirror.
   "You ever," get that not so fresh feeling, "Want to kill yourself?" She
sounds, like she's been crying.
   "Huh," right after this truck, "Where are you?"
   "At the church, where we have a meeting.  Are you coming?" So help me,
if this is some sort of trick, I'll kill her.
   "Don't hang up," come out of the turn, don't speed, but get back up to
speed.  "Can you come out front?"
   "I'm right here," she waves, and I have to pull around.  Across the
street, down from the wrong corner, I park, and grab my keys on the way
out. In my pocket, don't want to give anyone the wrong idea.
   She's really crying, or learned how to fake it better.  "Ooh," damn it,
"Come on," I grab her shoulders in my arm, "Let's go for a walk." Stay in
public, keep an eye out for tails, or gangs.  "What're you doing here?"
trying to get raped?  Not a bad neighborhood, but badly lit, and too many
men around.  Just 2 girls walking, girl stuff, nothing to see here.
   "How?"
   "What?" She looks over, "Oh, I never thought about,"
   "Don't."
   "I don't think I can hurt myself."
   "Then what do you need me for?"
   "You quit," I didn't smell any alcohol on her breath.
   "What?"
   "Abusing Maud." I sighed.
   "I don't know what you heard," I blew the 'but' out my nose.  "I didn't
'abuse' Maud." she didn't believe me.  "I started, subconsciously trying
to. She didn't let me."
   Right, she's invulnerable.
   "Why?"
   "I assume you know she didn't want to be abused," so by process of
elimination, "She didn't live up to my, huhnrealistic expectations."
   "She's not a," careful!  "Lesbian."
   "She is," I admit, "A better one'n me, but she couldn't satisfy me, and
I got mad.  You know she's got a blackbelt in Akido?"
   "What's that?"
   "How to avoid violence," hard to explain.  "I grabbed her, ironically
tried to shake some sense into her." I wound up piled up, upside down in
the corner.  "I hear you're not violent.  Try it with her some time.  You
probably won't touch her."
   "I decided not to try about 5 seconds in, but thanks for the head's up."
She sighed, "I lied about that."
   "Violence?"
   She nodded, looked me in the eyes, truthfully.  "I don't know how to
tell myself the truth." I give her a nod.  "You quit that?"
   "Denial?" Yes, "As far as I can tell."
   "How?"
   "It's a long story," I steered her for the corner shop.  "You got any
cigarettes?" Pipe doesn't really work for this.
   "You mind menthol?" I roll my eyes.  It's not about my issues, just this
once.  Clink!  "What was your mother like?"
   "What?"
   "I don't know much about mothers."
   "You think it's about that?" Damn you, Freud!
   "I know it's about my brother." she shrugged, "I finally got that, but
I'm not sure what it was about, for him?"
   "What'd he do?"
   "Molested me," she sighed, "Twice," looked up.  I tried to work out the
expression on her face, but I'm not Maud.  "I remember when he started
again, and I get," she looks up, "Flashes, from the first time.  He was
about 10, when he stopped, and mom beat the hell out of him for it.  I
don't know if that was the first time, but he remembers it." She nodded,
"You think that made him,"
   "I'm not Maud, uh, Doctor..."
   "I know, I'll ask her about that, but did you ever want to just die?"
   "Not any more."
   "I just did, before I called you.  I never did before."
   "You're always so," Narcissistic, deluded to grandure, I really needed
to read more, when I could learn this kind of thing instead of useless
Liturgies.  "Awesome?"
   "You think so?"
   "No," I scoffed, "But you did.  Sorry, but that's one of the things even
I picked up on."
   "I wasn't" she gulped, "Guh!" A sob, like a hickup, "I was so dirty
inside, I still am, but I think all that was to hide it."
   "I wasn't never abused." Was not, ever?  Nod.  "Not sexually, I was
repressed, and I played along with that.  Discrimination, self loathing,"
but.
   "Yeah, that." She nodded.  "I didn't want to hate myself."
   "Then what?"
   "Then, I started fantasizing."
   "When?"
   "When he stopped.  I got my period.  He left home, right after that."
   "Did he wait for," I swallowed.  "That?"
   "I don't know," she thought, "Maybe?  Or, he thought it was fun until I
started,"
   "So!" Uh, "Then you started fantasizing?"
   "Whats the word for when you take something from you, and put it on
them?"
   "Displacement?" I guessed.
   "Yeah, I" thought, "Guess I displaced that.  Feeling," she shivered,
"Eugh!  Well, I did that, to a girl.  I made her feel all dirty.  Huh!"
Lightbulb, "It made me feel, less.  Dirty.  Not clean, but it displaced
that, to her."
   "That was your first Victim" I held up the but/t.  "Denial, get used to
that word." I never saw her wince at it before.
   "I think so," I frowned.  I know what she looks like thinking.  She
didn't feel anything, just said it, numbly.  Nobody can always tell, and I
guess anyone gets lucky some times.  "My third, but they were," quick
nibble, "My brother's."
   "Don't protect him."
   "Jeff's victims.  He told me how to make friends, and said he wanted to
meet them.  When he did, they didn't want to be my friends."
   "Did you do anything to them?" She half-shrugged under my hand. 
"They're your victims too."
   "Huh," I know.
   "Rationalizing is probably your main problem.  Check with Maud, she'd
know better, but I think that's it.  If you can lie to yourself, God knows
I did!" about Him, "Then you're capable of anything.  Even the worst
things."
   "Helpless." Probably to herself.  "Yeah, that's the worst feeling."
   Hug her, "Yeah," I know.  "You're really a child molestor?" Hard to
believe.
   "No," she laughed, "Teenage boys, mostly, why?  Oh, I don't have a type,
the one time I got caught was a babysitting gig.  That was really Jeff,
what he wanted.
   "What about transvestite?" I giggled.  Not quite, she's a girl.  Maybe,
Doc's not even getting down to the Gender yet.
   She didn't.  "Maybe, why?"
   "It's just, I never understood that one." even for men, "Like foot
fetish.  WTF?"
   "I don't know about that one.  Megahn's got big feet, but I cared more
about her hands."
   Yeah, "Hn!" I covered my mouth.
   "The?" she pushed me, "Fuck!"
   "Now," I held my hands up, "You guys were allready broke up." Keep them
between us, see if I can keep her away.
   "Auh!" I pushed her back, and she stumbled.  I stood back, put my hands
up again when she caught her balance, and stayed out of reach.  "How could
you!" I caught her charge, and pushed her down.
   "Okay," answers the one about violence, "Don't hurt yourself any more."
   "No," I jump back, "I'll kill you!" she cries on her hands an knees.
   "SHE's." I got her attention, "Not.  Yours.  As soon as you made her a
victim you fucked that up."
   "But I didn't," she sobbed, making a scene, "I didn't want to!"
   "It's all right," I held my hand up, "I got this," and reached to help
her up.  "I'm helping patch her heart back together." I held her arms, "Now
let's head back to my car..."
   "No," she pulled away and ran.  I hope it all sinks in before she hurts
anyone.  Anyone else.  I shouldn't think like that, but I feel that way. 
She could solve a lot of problems for a lot of people, if she doesn't hurt
someone.
   Why did I do that to her?  Not again.  Larry's the only one I didn't
hurt, and Charley.  I wanted to torture him.  She's too much like me, when
I gave up, and stopped running.  Before I made it back to church, serially
chasing them away with backhanded insults.  Compliment, and cancel it out
with the nastiest thing I can think to say, then "Sorry," too late, or try
to rape them when they came by my dorm room.  Why didn't they say anything,
why didn't any of them tell security, or talk to each-other?
   Because I didn't hurt them, painfully, I tried to get revenge for
looking so good.  Being so much better than me that I'd pick apart their
flaws, or exploit their weaknesses.  How many times they gotta say it,
Ruth? The few times I got a bunt even to second base, it was the ones that
didn't stop me.  I made the move, and left them hurting.  Drove them off
instead of just letting them love me.  In denial, that they could?  No,
even worse than that.
   I resent their love.
   How could I do that?  What could make me, what congenital, or
environmental flaw would make love hurt so much?  Not Maternal love like
Glo/Larry, but Romantic sexual love.  Why does that make me hate them?  I
don't know if I should ever see Meghan again, but I have to think about
her. Can she risk loving me?  She does, knows she doesn't even have to tell
me, or ask me.
   Can I love her, so young?  I can't stop her, I can dust her on a bike
until those kicking legs get dialed in on cranking, then I'd probably have
to get around to the valve job on the Windsor.  Fight, or flight?
   "False dychotomy." So, what're the points between?  Don't run, but if I
stay, don't fight.
   "No," I love Maud.  I just need sex.  And maybe someone more my age, I
hate feeling like a fucking pedobear.  Nor Ephebophile.  "Huh," damn near.
Even that soccer mom looked like one, if I squinted.
   Or a Charleybear.  I'm turning into one, I got that the other month. 
Yeah, they just look so good but no.  Fuck that, I'm turning into a Charley
bear, with bodyhair.  Oall right, I hate shaving.
   So, a boy/girlfriend, or a couple?  Somewhere away from Group, three
many issues around here.  "Damn!"ed bar!  Keep on walkin' Ruth.  Maybe some
healthy fantasies, that one's pretty good.  Bisexual, love/sex/whatever
what are my needs?  My emotional needs, "HuhI'll never get to self
actualization at this rate!"
   How could I do that to her, though.  Reject Meghan, again?  Break her
heart after Amber, and all the girls before her.  I don't even need empathy
for that, I remember.  I want those years back, from before I went all
Sloth.  To be young again, and YTF does she have to be tall?  Okay, I
always scale the statues that way, but that's not an answer.  Young bodies,
and faces I'll admit.
   No older sisters, not Mom, is it just older girls?  How long have I had
that hangup, and how old was i when I developed it?  Heather?  Yeah,
heather, and before that Carol Danvers.  She started growing up first.  And
I hated her for it.  You know what your problem is you're too judgmental. I
know, right?
   Maud {TFf Conf}
   "Hang on," my screen came on.
   [Msg]
   {All, right, I guess I've been putting off the girl-girl action long
enough.  I try not to limit myself as a writer, but the whole idea of (At
least physical) males writing pseudo-saphism kind of leaves me cold. 
Anyway, if I can choke down wretched pedophiles, power/anger motivated
Rapists, and sexually displaced paraphillic serial killers, then I guess I
can force myself to wrap my head around 2 girls doing consensual stuff with
each other.  There's some non-con in there too, but it's incidental,
mentioned in passing, and goes to characterization.  Shouldn't be anything
triggering, I hope.  If so, let me apologize ahead of time...
   Also, this is supposed to be pretty Romantic, so expect a slow build
while I get dialed in on the mindset.}
   Megan {Gf Saph, Teen.  +M Mole Pedo-Pheb Tran}
   "Yeah?" we both answered.
   "Lowrey," she looked over at her.  I lowered my head, but my glasses
slipped down.
   "Still here." the other girl raised her hand, and waved.  Taller then
the other girls, and looked like most of the boys too, I waited for my last
name the second time.
   "Michelle, Meghan?" I waited...
   "It's Mitchel," she checked the clip-board.  "I'm here." Duh.
   The girls giggled, and whispered "Michelle." The balls started bouncing
loud on the other side of the gym while she called the rest of the names.
One bounced closer, and dribbled down until a boy ran to stop it, and
carried it back to where the boys were trying to run around with them. 
Dribbling at the same time, most of them didn't get it right away.
   "Pair-up, girls," she tweeted her whistle, "On either side of the net."
   "You're Megan too?" I looked up, and nodded.
   "Hurry ladies, we don't have all morning, and you don't want to be kept
from lunch." I took the ball, and held it.  "Now, like this:" She threw it
up, bounced it off her fingertips, and it flew high above the net.  "Don't
catch it, I want you to volley it back, and forth..."
   I repeated it, and the ball went right to her, but slipped through her
hands, and bounced off the back of her head.  She ran to catch it before it
rolled under the bleachers, then I had to jump back to bat it over for her
to miss it again.
   "Good, Meghan M." I looked down, and pushed up my glasses again. 
"Kelly, try again with your hands closer together." She took the ball, and
set it up, sideways, but it bounced off one hand, and into the net.  She
caught it, and handed it back to her.  "Again," she watched.
   Megan could "serve" it, but not return from me.  She was kinda clumsey,
and it never came right back to me, unless she threw it up to herself, and
even then only half the time.  I guess she got better, but coming over the
net, it was more likely to go behind her, when she didn't miss it
completely.
   "Have you played Volleyball before, Meghan?"
   "No," she said the same time I said "Yeah.  We totally had a net at the
beach." The girls giggled, and she had to tell them "Quiet." Great, bad
enough being The new girl.
   "You from California?" she asked.  Good guess, the closer coast, but I
shook my head.
   "Sarasota." I added, "Uh, Florida."
   The other girls were as likely to call me "Sara," or "Mitch" as Meghan,
on the excuse we had too.  Missus Jackson picked it up, but the girls
started whispering "Mitch the Bitch" or "Witch" once we got down to the
lockers.  Great.
   "Hey," the other Megan pushed one, "ALEX!" the other girls laughed, and
she ran to tell the coach.  "I bumped into her," she lied, "Sorry!"
   "We talked about your acting out, Megan." she warned, and stopped to
write something on her clip-board on her way around the lockers.
   "And she called You 'bitch'?" she made a "Phft!" sound.  "Your good."
   "I like volleyball," I shrugged, "Fun game." How I made most of my
friends, over the summer.  Even older girls.
   "What?" I looked back up at her face.
   "Nothing." That wasn't a training bra.  "How old are you?"
   Her face got red.  "Huh," she reached back, "I got held back a year,"
unhooked it, "Okay?" I looked away, and flushed too.  Not like I never been
around other girls before, they just looked a little out of place, so kind
of surprised me, is all.  "You in 7th grade?" I nodded.  "I was supposed to
be a Freshman this year, but I failed P.E..." The way she left it hanging,
I guessed that wasn't all.
   "Jock."
   She turned, and glared.  "Better wash off this sweat before the bell."
She didn't make it back, but I just put on my class shirt, I wasn't that
sweaty, and was starting to get hungry.  Whenever I got my jeans on, I just
stuffed the rest in my bag, and headded for the caffeteria.
   "Hey," she sat down next to me, "You can call me Megs, if it makes it
easier." I chewed, and opened my milk.
   Gulp, "I don't call myself Meghan" I shrugged, "So like, you know,
whatever."
   She poked at her burger patty.  "You spell it with a H?  MegHan." I
nodded.
   "You gonna eat that?" She kind-of scraped it off.
   "Gravy," she made a grody-face, and shook her head.  They called it
'Salsberry Steak' but it tasted like a rice-cake with some Ramen beef
flavored poured on it.  Whatever, dad would be ashamed of me, letting food
go to waist.
   "You wanna learn?" I tried to cut it with the plastic fork. 
"Volleyball, I mean." Might be nice to make it to Highschool some time. 
She shrugged, and nodded.  "It's fun, once you get the hang of it."
   "Sure," she got up, and dropped my tray on hers.  On the way to the
trash barrels, some guy smacked her butt, and she turned, pointing at him.
She looked mean.
   "What?" he put his hands up.  "Dyke," when she started turning, then
coughed when she curled up her finger, and punched him in the neck.
   "Next time I hit you," she warned, "It's gonna be lower." He gasped
anyway, but backed up.
   "Tyler," some guy, teacher or something walked up.  "Let's not have you
fighting again." He didn't even look at Megs, and we kind-of snuck off. 
She shook her finger again, behind his back.
   "WOW!" I laughed, "I never seen nobody stand up to a guy like that
before."
   "Fucking hormones," she kinda whispered.  They didn't have a net
outside, but we found a ball.  Okay, she took it from some boys, and led me
back to the middle of the soccer field.  "This allright?" she flipped it
up, and set it over to me.  I returned it, and it bounced high, between us.
I almost had to dive, but she caught it, so I could pick my glasses up, and
wipe the dirt off.  Not like sand, but you don't see a whole lot of green
around here.  Don't get much more inland, and up in the mountains, I guess
it was nice just having a level spot this wide.  She yelled.  "There's
another one, Right There!" She kind of pointed with the ball.
   I looked at her, kind-of tomboyish, I guess.  Not like Overalls, you
could see the bra-strap next to the thin strings on her peach top.  It
don't really poke out in front, but I saw shadows under her arms, like she
shaved them, and then ran to catch the ball.  Way over my head, it didn't
help that it looked like she could tuck my head under my arm, but she just
showered.  It was hot out here, though.
   "I like your glasses.  Uh!" Almost got it, and turned to catch up before
it rolled off the edge to the hill.  I think they bulldozed it, or
something, cut some field out of one side to build up the other, make it
wide enough to play soccer on.  Looked like flat logs, or boards in the
side to sit on, like bleachers.  The bell rang, but we got it to go back,
and forth once before she missed it again.
   "See you later, MegHan." She ran off, tossed the ball in the net on her
way by, and grabbed her backpack.
   "Ritch Mitch the Beach Bitch!  Ahahahahahah!" Someone, I guess from Gym,
I didn't even look.  "She sucks for a Jock!" Like they were any better!
   More laughs, I just payed attention to finding my next class, before I
was too late.  Everything was all in 1 building, with the doors into the
halls, instead of outside, so you couldn't just walk around, and everyone
crowded together.  I planned on doing that for lunch, but I didn't mind,
helping Megs.
   I guess "Later" ment after school, she ran up whenever I was unlocking
my bike.  "Your not taking the bus?" I shifted the straps on my back.
   "My dad, he moved here to be close to the school." I brushed my bangs
away, and set my glasses tight.  "Or over there," I chucked my head,
"Whatever."
   "You sound like California," she laughed, "Go ahead, I'll keep up." She
did, must be those long legs of hers.  I mean, I didn't try to leave her
behind, or burn up my brake down the hill.  "Nice bike." whenever she
caught up.  I actually needed them, which was different.  "Why do you pedal
downhill, though?"
   "I don't," I laughed, "It's fixed gear.  I guess Florida's like Cali, a
lot of the rich kids come there from, there, whatever.  Idaknow, Sarasota's
like Sandiego East, there's even a Venice over there." At least it was
downhill, so I could talk instead of panting.  This late, I'd rather have
the wind from coasting then the climb from this morning.  This thin dry air
took some getting used to, but at least there was some muginess in the
morning, I think.
   "No volleyball net?" she looked around the yard while I checked the
mailbox.  Dad's car was still out front.
   "Think I got a ball around here somewhere." I figured I'd work her up to
the net.  "You play soccer?" I guessed, no hands.  Even if she threw the
ball in the net instead of kicking it.
   She shook her head, "Ran Track, and Swimming last year, but I'm not sure
if I'll try out this semester." Might be unfair, anyway.
   "Hey, dad." He came out the garage in his chef's coat untucked or
buttoned.
   "Hey," he stopped, and flipped his keys.
   "This is Megan, too." I shook my head.
   "Megs," she shook his other hand.
   "Hey," he smiled, "I'll be back after the Dinner Rush.  Got to see the
weeknight crew in action."
   "That's why we moved here," I told her, rolling in the bike.  "He's
taking over the Sage."
   "Ever seen one of these?" he grinned.
   "Daad!" I poked it quick when she looked, and slapped his arm.  The
circle game, low, below the belt, I didn't think he'd punch her arm, and
call her 'Fag' for looking.  Kitchen games, he called them, at least it
wasn't the "Waiting" game.
   She wistled, "Schwankey!" and twirled her hand.
   "Heha!  I guess."
   "You hear about the last chef over there?" She found the ball.  I shook
my head.  "Sexual harassment.  Old creeper guy, big old scandal.  Place
almost got shut down."
   "Dad said they had 3 Stars." I remember, "Job opening!" I laughed, dad
always said that whenever somebody dropped a dish, or whatever.  "The
shade's in back," I opened the kitchen door, so she reached up, and pulled
the rope on the garage door.  I don't know how she could tell the opener
was busted, I mean the cover was off it, but how do you see something like
that?
   "Where's your mom," she kind of hopped a little, "uh!" And grunted.
   "Left," I returned.  "She wanted her own life, or whatever.  It was an
okay divorce, dad doesn't have to pay Support, so there's just the
Alimony." If ever there was a Rich Bitch.  "Tennis Instructor, Pool-guy,
Cuban Gardener, you get the idea...  They fought harder over the pots, and
pans." She laughed, and picked up the ball.  Threw it back, so I had to
jump "Uh!" and spike it down to her.  She caught it on the bounce.
   "It's kinda hot out here." she just tucked it under her arm, "What's
your home-work look like?"
   "Ew!" I made a face, "Just math," the rest of the classes were the usual
first day orientation, or whatever.  "Scientific Notation."
   "Ugh!" she grinned, "I hated that." I grabbed my plate on the way back
through the kitchen.  She set down the ball, and put her hands up on her
head.  "Uh, AC!" She closed her eyes, and I sniffed.  Definitely looked
like she shaved, a little.
   "I," thought, "Didn't get a shower.  Before lunch."
   "I don't mind," she looked over my plate, and grabbed our packs, "Wow,
that looks awesome!"
   "Want some?" I dropped it on the bed.
   She shrugged, and dropped the bags.  "Not hungry, it's just pretty is
all."
   "Dad loves to cook," I laughed, "Watches the Cooking Channel, and Food
Network when he gets home from work.  If you look at our DVR, it's like
half Iron Chef, and Chopped, or whatever.  I guess he wants to go on those
shows some day.  He always kibbitzes when we watch them."
   "Kibbitz?" she laughed.
   "Sorry, he's also a recovering Jew.  Ashknazi, that's where I get the
Ginger from."
   She laughed, "I never seen a redheadded Jew before." She looked down,
just stood there, kind of stared at me.  "I'm," she sighed, "I'll take the
shower after you, if you don't mind."
   "Oh youah," I shook the memory of dad talking about the Metzgers, and
Levantines out of my head.  "You can go first." Mom kept a Khosher kitchen,
dad said he "Couldn't afford it," in a small market, and had a weakness for
cheeseburgers.  I sat down, got out my Math book, and pushed up my glasses.
I saw her pull up her shirt, out of the corner of my eye, but turned the
pages, and chewed on my eraser.
   "In here?" she turned back, and I nodded.  In her bra, and panties, the
former standing out a little in front, the latter pulled tight behind.
   "Mmhm!" I turned, and picked up a crustini with the patte' of duck
confi' from last night's leftovers.  A "Little Salty" he said last night,
but I couldn't taste it over the toasted rosemary.  The water stopped, and
she came out, twisting a towel around her hair.  "How's it coming along?"
she looked over the book.  The other towel rode up a little.
   "Okay?" I guessed, "Mega-" I blinked, "Millions." She sure wasn't shy,
or modest, or anything.  I mean, I saw her, in her underwear earlier, but
she just dropped the towel, patted her crotch a little, and draped it over
the chair.
   "Megah!" she laughed, "What size are you?"
   "Hum?" I looked up.  She did shave, or needed to.  "Uh, dress size?" I
felt my face heat up, and grabbed another crustini.  "Uh, small?" She
picked up a pair of shorts from the floor, "Why?"
   "Jr." she read, "5 uh, that's like" she thought, "Looks like about a
22', so a 7 misses?"
   "IDK," I rubbed my eyes, and put my glasses back down.  "trying to do
math here?"
   "Sorry," she pulled a drawer, "Can I borrow some sweat-pants, or
something?" Slid it shut without taking any underwear, and pulled another
one.  "Dirty clothes, clean body."
   "Oh sure." I put my head down, and looked back at the workbook.  "Kilo-,
thousand."
   "All yours," she picked up a top, and switched it around.
   Her breasts kind of hung in the air, like an uncomfortable pause...
   I stuck the worksheet in the book, and went to see how much hot water
she left.  "Mm!" she crunched, "Where's the Salt?" I just shook my head,
and closed the door before I pulled out my top.  She even ate the garnish,
just the stick from the rosemary left on the plate next to the salt shaker.
"What was that?"
   "Pure' of Duck, some Peckarino, whole wheat Panko for filler." That's
what Dad called Grape-nuts, said it gave more "Body" to dark meats.  "Think
there's some Moroccan olives in there." Tasted like.
   "Well, they was rockin', all right!." We laughed.  She helped me knock
out all the prefixes, since it was all a re-run for her.  My sweats were a
bit tight around her, hips, but she had to tye the drawstring, and they
were like capri lenth on her long legs.  I picked up some underpants, and
made sure they weren't stinkin, or anything.  Felt kinda self-concious,
bending down to pull them up under the towel.
   "You've got pretty eyes." I paused, wiping my glasses.  "I like how they
bring them out, you wear any make-up?"
   I shrugged "Sometimes." Not much time this morning.
   "Here," she unzipped the pocket on her bookbag.  "If you use a lighter
shadow, or eyeliner, it'll bring out the brown.  How 'bout some green.  Hm,
all I got is blue, with me but green would be better to accent the auburn
hilites in your hair." She sat up, leaned in, and pushed up my glasses. 
"Close this one," I felt her brush the lid with the spongey pad.  "Not bad,
where do you keep your makeup?"
   I looked around, "Uh," hadn't unpacked that yet, "In the closet, maybe?"
She reached up, moved boxes around "That Tackle-box" I grabbed a top real
quick, "It says Plano on the end?"
   "Ah," she looked back in the mirror on the door.  "Here," she turned,
"Lemme have a look at you." She put her hand up on mine, and pushed down
the top I was holding over my chest.  "Don't worry, I used to be about your
size." Her eyes felt hot on my mostly flat chest.  She pulled my arm, and
pushed me in front of the mirror.  I heard stuff rolling around in the
trays, but looked blurry in front of me.  "You don't have any mascara, or
shadow?  Not even a pencil?" Behind me, she dumped lipstick, and blush up
from the bottom to the tray.
   I shrugged, "Mom took all that.  I'm myopic, so I can't see what I'm
doing with my glasses off, unless it's like, way out here." I stepped back.
Of course, that ment my eyes were too small for any detail.  I saw my
glasses on the bed, and picked them up.
   "My hair sun-bleaches," she straightened up, "So I'm more of a blue.  I
think I got some green at home, so if you want to come over tomorrow, or I
can bring it with me?"
   "Sure," anyway, she left, and I put the top on.  My eyes looked, I don't
know, bigger?  Brighter, or whatever.  Weird, cause the line was dark, not
blue, but kind of a light brown, or dark tan, darker then my skin.  I guess
it brought out my freckles a little.  I closed one eye, then the other to
see how it blended up on the lids.  Neat!
   Then, I reviewed the workpage real quick, to get the whole Deci/Deca
thing strait.  That was the tough part, but then dad came home.  "What a
rush!" he grinned, and winked.  We watched Top Chef from earlier while he
boiled water, and I broke up the asparagus.
   "Mega" {Gf NS Nude}
   "Hey," she met me in the locker room "MegHan." She stressed the H, loud
enough for the other girls to hear.  "I washed your sweats." All rolled up,
like socks, the shirt tucked up in the hood, and tied with the drawstrings.
   "I didn't wash yours." She'd taken her underwear in her bag, but her
top. IDK what she was worried about, it didn't smell sweaty, even on the
inside after 2 showers yesterday, but maybe she was a clean-freak.  Worse
kinds of freak to be out there, mom was kinda like that too, yaknow?  I
stuffed them in the locker, and pulled on my tank top.
   "Thanks," she stuffed them in my bag, checked the locker next to mine,
then squeezed past me to take the other one.  "I brought the green stuff."
   "Stoner." One of the girls skoffed.
   "Rotten twat." She returned.  "Anyway, I'll make you up on lunch, see
how it looks."
   "Lowrey," coach called up in the gym, "Megan."
   "Mega," she saluted, "Here, sir!"
   "Weirdo."
   "Quiet girls," she shushed, "And watch the 'tude, 'Mega'." ... 
"Mitchel, Megan."
   "MegHan, here." I laughed.  She sighed, and marked it off.  "Perry,
Anna?"
   "Here, mam!"
   "Thank you, Anne." She almost cracked a smile.  The bitches parodied
her, calling her "Maam" until she had to tell them to stop.  "A simple Here
will do, otherwise keep quiet." Me and Mega saluted together, but stayed
quiet, she rolled her eyes.  We got a stern lecture later on disruptions,
and how we could see her for Detention if we wanted.
   "No, maam," I said, seriously.
   "Hit the showers, then." All the others were taken, so Mega waited with
her towel, and little shampoo bottle.  I grabbed a sink, and wetted the
corner of mine.  I don't sweat much, especially in the air conditioning.
   So anyway, I was already dressed when she came back out, then sat with
her legs akimbo on the bench so she could do my eyes.  In her towel, up
like a minidress, I closed one eye, and felt her dab at the lid.  First
with the pencil, she licked her thumb, and rubbed the point off, then the
compact with it's spongey little brush, like a q-tip, but with foam on the
end.  Then the mascara brush to pull my lashes out, she picked at them with
her nails, and wiped them off in the edge of the towel.
   I looked at the little mirror in the lid while she took off the towel,
pulled up her panties, clipped on the bra, spun it around, and pulled up
the straps.  Baby blue, like the panties, but the cups didn't look like
cotton.  More like satin, or silk, they pulled her cones into flattened
bumps she dropped a yellow top over.  Made her look even blonder, and her
eyes looked bluer.  "What do you think?"
   "You look fine," I nodded.
   "I know," she huffed, "I mean your eyes, how'd I do?"
   "Idaknow," I flipped open the compact again, "They look like my eyes,
with makeup on them." I raised my glasses, and held the tiny mirror out at
arm's lenth to focus both of them.  "What?"
   She giggled, "You went all cross-eyed!" and covered her mouth before she
lolled at me.  "Oh, it's cute, but you really look better with these on."
She pushed my glasses down by the arms.  "They also magnify them, which is
why I didn't go too heavy on the lashes."
   "Yeah!" I turned, moved the mirror around, "They do look better, I
guess." Not so black, if I caught the light in them, and I guess I could
see what she ment about the glasses.  Hated them, cause I was always teased
growing up.  Why I just ignored the bitches, they was already off to lunch,
but not like it was new.  I had friends, before, but they got teased too.
Not like I was special, just had to not take it personal.  They were nasty
to everyone, everywhere.  Why I didn't even want them as 'friends', they
could be just as cruel to each other, then laugh it off.
   "Comeon," she took my hand, "You hungry?"
   "Always." I grinned, and followed her.  "Ugh, greazza!" They had sorta a
salad style substance, pre-dressed with some nasty watered down ranch
fluid. At least you didn't have to wring it out.  She took the risk, I
guess that pastey wedge of plastic processed non-dairy cheese flavored food
topping product was as good as anything to look at, and poke around with a
fork.  I ate her pear halves too.  "I really need to start bringing my
lunch."
   "Think your dad could make me one too?" she laughed, and held up the
slice so the tip drooped, and dripped that juice onto the tray.
   "I think he can make some extra." I looked up, at the guy staring over
her shoulder.  Fluttered my eyes at him, and giggled.  "Yeah, I guess they
look all right."
   She twisted, but he looked away nervously.  "Phah!" she busted out,
"Wow, might want to wait 'till there's some grass on the field, or some
balls in play!" He practically ran, she didn't whisper.  "She'll be the
last thing you touch." Her voice got real serious.
   "Fucking Lezbos." Tyler got up.
   "Language, Tyler." Behind him, we both laughed again.
   "Your not," I looked at her when she turned back, "Are you?"
   "What?" she 'laughed' "Gay?  You're new here, but I been here 3 years.
In this school, if your not a 'slut' your a 'Lesbo.' Either your a tease,
or a prude.  Nerd, fag, or both.  Nobody's having any sex around here, hell
most of them are still big kids.  So, they just talk about it, the boys
brag about it in their locker room, the girls accuse each other.  There's
nothing but rumors, and puppy fantasies, like little acorn-dick over
there." She hooked her thumb over her shoulder.  "I like you, but I'm only
14, and I'm one of the oldest ones here.  That makes me the prime target,
because I'm farthest along.  I guess I got a head start too."
   "Oh yeah?" I tried to find a shred of iceburg that wasn't wilted brown,
or soaked in dressing.
   "Well yeah," she rolled her eyes, "I started bleeding in 6th grade!"
   I dropped my fork, and pushed it back.  Hope dad left a big plate this
afternoon!..
   "Your home?" the garage door was closed, so I had Mega pass the bike
over the fence.  Didn't know it'd get stolen, but didn't want to find out.
   "Yeah," he got up from the den.  "Truck day, the preppies need a little
work, so I think I'll be knocking out early 'till Friday.  Hey Megs." He
chucked his head.
   "Hey, mr."
   "Augh!" he waved, "You can call me Gary."
   "Kay, Gary." she laughed, "I started going by Mega to tell her apart."
   "Bitchen!." he high fived.
   "Oh yeah," I laughed, "Dad's from San Jose'." wait a beat, "California?"
   "Van Nuys, but then we moved up to the south bay." he nodded.
   "Is that a flower?" she pointed at his wrist.  He had on his "Civies"
zipoff surfer shorts, and a pattern short-sleeved shirt/jacket over his
usual tee.
   "Yeah!" He turned over his wrist, "Zuccini blossom.  Granola and yoghurt
is all right, but it doesn't make good ink." Okay, that was his downhill
longboard in the garage, and volleyball.
   "We kinda had to skip lunch," I rolled my eyes, "Kinya whip something
up?f"
   "Sure," he paused Giada, clapped, and rubbed his hands together.  "You
really should eat more, Mega, you trying to get down to runway weight? 
Kidding, you look perfectly healthy.  whachwant?" She looked kinda lost.
   'your dad is so cool!' she mouthed at me, and shook her hands by her
face while he strapped on the apron, and sucked in a bar towel.
   "Uh," I thought, "She liked the crustini yesterday."
   "Crozeteeeni!" he pinched the air, and shook his fingertips in
exaggerated Italian.  "Leftovers!" he waved it off, and bashed around the
pots, and pans, "You like pasta?  Steak?  Poultry?  Whadawe got here?" He
leaned on the fridge door.  She leaned over the side.
   "Here," she grinned, and pulled it out, "Lemme in here." She practically
pushed him out of the way with her hip, and rustled around.  "You got a
basket or something?  Where's Ted?  What is this, peperoni?"
   "Soprasata," me, and dad said, then looked at each other.  She dropped
it on the cutting board by the fridge.  "Ted who?" I asked.
   "Idaknow, from Chopped, silly!" She tossed half a Bock Choy next to it,
"Uhmmm..." She chewed her lip.
   Dad laughed, "Oh, I like her," and nodded up, and down real hard.
   She sniffed a plastic bag with some cheese in it, and threw that on,
"One more..."
   "How 'bout a starch?" He tapped her shoulder, and swung open the pantry.
   "Oh," she grabbed a soda, and shut the refrigerator.  "Farf..?"
   "Farfalle'!" he kissed his fingertips.  "Perfectissimo!  Thanks sue, you
wanna grate the smoked gouda, while Meghan chops the Bok Choi?"
   "Why'd he call me Sue?" she whispered at me, while he spun off like the
Tasmanian devil.
   "I think that was a pun on Sous chef."
   "I'm a cunning linguist!" he quipped, "You wanna decant the amerone'?"
   "Sure," I went to the wine rack, "Amerone, amerone..."
   "Next to the Chianti, can't miss it." Right, with the basket bottom.
   "He lets you drink?"
   "Yeah," I shrugged, "Since I was twelve, like half a glass.  It really
brings out flavors." I found the caraffe.
   "This," he held it up, "Is a mouli grater."
   "Like at Olive Garden." she nodded.
   "Right, but this is a semi-soft dutch cheese, so let me show you how to
change the drum...  How's that Bok Choy coming along, sweety?"
   I sighed, and reached for the knife-block.  He's insufferable when he
has an audience.
   "Ah!" he smacked his lips, "Reciotto!  Then he babbled on about it being
too young, and sweet, and kvetching about Napa..."
   "Ahahahahaha!" okay, maybe 3/4 of a glass, but it was soo good!  "So
then, he calls her a 'Dyke,' and she socked him, right in the throat!"
   He frowned at the 'D' word, but then his smile broke, "Aggro!"
   She shrugged, "Krav Maga," studied her nails, "3 years." Buffed them on
her top.
   "What's?" I blinked, or that was the idea, but then I had to open my
eyes.  I took a deep breath.
   "Krav Maga," she said again, "My dad's kinda paranoid, read some
statistic somewhere where a third of girls are sexually abused before we
turn 18, so he took me to this self defense guy.  I think it's Israeli."
   "Check," my dad nodded, "Has the dubious distinction of being developed
by Jews for fighting Nazis." No number tattoos in my family, I know about,
but we used to talk about family history a lot.  We're kinda not practicing
Jews any more.  "The IDF trains all their recruits in it, though.  Brutally
effective, from what I hear." He burped, to himself.  "Compliments to the
chef."
   "I think that's the idea." she set down her glass, and crossed her eyes
at me, "This isn't some wing-chung formal dance style like Tai Chi, but a
ball busting kneecapping eye gouging 'attackattackattack!' style.  Master
Markowicz doesn't even call it a Martial Art."
   "What does he call it?" I started shaking my head, then stopped.
   "A 'ballbusting kneecapping eyegouging'..." She stopped, and something
bubbled up silently, "Whew!  Good wine!?"
   "I'll drink to that!" he raised the bottle, but didn't offer us any
more. "Think the preppies should be all right for in the morning.  Uh, I
think I'll sleep in tomorrow."
   Our lunch, 'the un-khosher': shrimp stuffed with cheese, and wrapped
with bacon with a little julianned Mirepoix salad with caramelized unions
was cooling in the fridge, anyway.
   "Yyeeaahh!" she stretched, "Y'mind ifI pass out here tonite?"
   "I'll getcha a blanket," he pushed up on the chairs' arms, and took the
bottle.  "Didn't wanna send you home all drunk anyway." He doesn't reseal
wine, says it oxidizes, so it's 'use it, or lose it.' She mumbled
something.
   I used the wall, heavily on my way back to the room, and don't remember
my head hitting the pillow...
   "Master" {MGf Ecch Mang Loli Yaoi NS}
   "Meganekko!" he laughed.  Just like my grand daddy, or more like Rabbi
Greenfield back in Ebor, I guess.  He didn't have the forelox, but did wear
a Jamulke, and was cleanshaven.  Just looking around, I could tell this
wasn't a place of Goyim.  I was expecting more of a dojo kinda place, but
it could've been a dance hall, or klesmer practice room.
   "Eh?" I blinked.  She kissed at both cheeks, European style, and he let
go of her arms.
   "Sorry," he turned, and clasped his hands, "It's Japanese for 'Glasses
Girl.' Literally, Megane' Ko.  Here." He paced back to his desk, in his
socks, making a swish swish sound on the hardwood floor.  In normal street
clothes, pants, and a buttoned up shirt, he didn't even look all that
Jewish except for his dark curls around the headgear.  "See?"
   He dropped a little book on the calander, it said Meganekko Ecchi!  on
the back with a block of oriental letters, or heiroglypics, might as well
be.  "Hihehuhah!  But you see, you're Meghan, too!"
   "I get it," I nodded, but he couldn't stop.
   "Megan," holding out his hand to her, "Echo!" That rising dry chuckle
that made me smile despite myself.
   "Manga!" I tapped the backwards book.  "I had a friend, Mariko." We
called her 'Mari,' "What does Ecchi mean?"
   "Well" he rubbed his hands together, "You must understand that Japan is
a different culture, with different customs westerners may not understand,
completely."
   "Uhm," Mega interrupted, "He means, some people might consider it,
Erotic.  You've watched Sailor Moon." She knew I had, "Well, the American
version is."
   "They westernized it a bit." He nodded.
   I picked it up, but she looked, maybe 12?  Kinda hard to tell, because
she had that Anime face, eyes larger than her nose, kitty cat ears, and
whiskers, pulling down her eyelid, and sticking her tongue out.  But, she
had boobs, sort of.  Tiny little things, but poking out the front of her
sailor suit, and I mean she even had little dots for the nipples with
wrinkles fanning out like an upside-down sun flag.  It got worse inside,
she ran, bent over, arms akimbo behind her, skirt flaring up, convict
striped panties with full camel-toe.  Not like a little flash, but the
middle half of the page.
   And a creeper, following her, muttering something to himself.  Top-hat,
thin line of mustchache, full on rapeface.  On the other side (the left
page) the obvious bulge of a raging hardon.  Impossibly large, like a
tent-pole, and by the way she was looking back, I could just bet he was
gaining on her.  I dropped it like it was on fire.
   "You have to understand, they also have Yaoi Shotakane' Boys' Love, and
it's extremely popular with middleaged housewives.  They're the ones that
write, and ink most of it." He showed me, but I stepped back.  "I
understand your discomfort," he stepped around the desk "But it's just like
the boys at your schools' fascination with lesbians, only over there,
there's no double-standard."
   "Well," I kept stepping back, "It was very nice to meet you," tried to
imagine him in a top-hat, and trenchcoat, capey, thing, whatever.  I didn't
check for a tent-pole.  "But I really got a lot of homework."
   "WTH?" Mega followed me out.
   "GOD!" I shook my hands, trying to get the invisible ink off, "What a
fucking creeper!"
   "He's not like that!" she swore, "You don't understand!"
   I pulled out my key, and bent over my lock.  "Oh I understand!  You mean
to tell me he never tried to touch you?"
   "Of course, he has to, to Train me!"
   "Un hun," I unhooked the cable, "And that's it?  What about his dirty
not-technically kiddie porn?"
   "He spent some time in Japan," she rolled her eyes.
   "Yeah, a lot of Marines spent some time in Okinawa too." I slipped the U
bar through the ends.
   "What does that mean?" She held my handlebar.  "Look, he told me about
guys like that.  How they'd come at me, try to talk to me, it's called
Grooming, and why would he tell me about that, and Then make a pass at me?"
   I sighed.  "You know what Passive Aggressive is?" She shrugged, "Jews
are passive-aggressive as a race, kind of how the Germans have an OCD
culture.  Sure, the Nazis killed a lot of people, gays too, but they were
brutally Efficient about it." I didn't want her trotting along after me, so
I walked my bike up the sidewalk, and waited for the light.  "Huh, it's
like Reverse Psychology.  'oh, I'll show you how to spot a rapist,' so
you'll never suspect.  He's clever, or thinks he is enough to be above
suspicion.  But when he's done, he knows exactly how to train you.  Ugh!" I
felt a little sick, "He taught you to find another victim!  How long were
you 'training' with him?"
   "I told you," she started.
   "Yeah, Ha!" I shook my finger, and paced ahead of her.  "I bet he waited
a whole year before he tried to kiss you!?"
   "No he didn't!" she yelled, "He loves me!" And ran to catch up.
   "Koppin drerd!" I smacked her head, "GET your head out of the ground! 
I'm 12!  Going on 13, just like you were 2 Years ago!" I tapped the side of
my glasses with my bunched fingertips.  "Look at the girls in those Manga.
That's what he wants, and You Got Too Old!  When was the last time you saw
him so exited?"
   "Uh?"
   "Megan." I tapped her chest.
   "Echo!" Slapped mine.  "I'm your fucking RePLACEment!"
   It was a pretty long ride back from the Dojo, and I don't guess I tried
to let her catch up too much.  I was pissed, and felt dirty, so I just
tried to pump it all out into the crank, but it was down the hill quite a
way.  So, I wasn't too far ahead, but we couldn't breathe well enough to
talk.  I just wanted those sick images out of my head, and I didn't even
see anything.  It almost made it worse, like those horror stories where
they tell you just enough for your imagination to take it from there?  What
happens when the operaman catches this little girl in the sailor suit with
the stripy underwear?  I don't want to think about it, but how do you not
think about an elephant in a pink tutu when you're trying not to?  You just
get stuck in a loop, "Don't think about, damn it!  Now, just don't
think..."
   So, I pulled up to the house, and the garage was shut, so I had to carry
it around back, and dad wasn't home, and I kept looking behind me until she
trotted up to a stop, panting behind me.  "Huh, wh, uh?" And her voice
changed.  I turned around right before her knees kicked out, and tried to
catch her,.  "Whuhnhnh!" She sobbed.  So, I sat down on the patio, held
her, and just let her cry it out.  "I."
   "No," I just patted her hair, "Don't, just.  Catch your breath." I held
her out.  She looked miserable, her eyes were running, so she had like
Squirrel Girl lines on her cheeks.  "Breathe, then talk.  Can you get up?"
   "Inh?" she nodded.
   "Good," I pushed her back more, "Because my legs' falling asleep." She
kind of half smiled, and sputtered.  "Now it'll be up all night, don't you
know that's what causes restless leg syn.  nH!" Ah God!  "And cramps, ah!
Fgh!  Help me up." I rubbed, and squeezed it.
   "Are you okay?" I bent, and found my keys.
   "Yeah, just a Charley-horse." I panted.  "Thanks," she opened the door,
and bent to get her arm under mine.  "No," I slapped her arm, "Don't try to
pick me up, just help me over to the chair..." I sank carefully on it, and
stuck it out.
   "I'm sorry," she rubbed my thigh for me.  "I just!" She choked up, and
more tears leaked out.  Another seat scraped out, and I tried not to worry
about the floor.  I bent my knee, painfully, but flexing it a couple times
pumped some fresh blood back through it.
   "It's okay." I caught my breath, "Tell me all about it, when you're
ready..."
   "Mega" {G-fM Tran Pheb Mole Past.  Note: Possible triggers.}
   Huh, you were right.  "Mh hm?" she foraged around the fridge.  I uh, I
don't guess he ever Told me not to say anything, but deep down, I knew it
could get him in trouble.  I wasn't as strong as you.  When I started, I
was just starting to, you know, Blossom?  "Yeah?" and dad, I told dad the
boys, they were starting to notice me.  Now daddy, he's like, anal.  German
anal, burn the Jews on a schedule!  Sorry, uh.
   "It's okay," she chuckled, "It was a long time ago, and I'm not really
in denial about it.  Go on..." So yeah, he fired up the internet, thinks
he's an amateur doctor, or something.  Really loves House, you ever watch
that?  "Basic cable" she shook her head.  It's on Fox, oh never mind,
anyway, he adores that guy.  Wants to be him when he grows up, or
something. "He's an asshole." I laughed, yeah, he is, but he's always
right! Dad never got the being right part, uhm, right, I guess.  And
Sherlock, and Elementary, and Perception, and Numbers...
   "I get the idea." She handed me a sandwhich, and pored me some OJ out of
the Karaph.  Mh, thanks!  So he decided Krav Maga was the best thing, he
said like Ziva, "NCIS." Yeah, so he found this guy, "Horowicz." and I
started taking classes.  I set the sandwhich down.
   "You have to eat," she picked it up, "Dad was joking about your runway
weight, but I'm not.  You just run what, a mile and a half, and cried for
20 minutes?  eat!" I took a bite, and set it down.  "So he made you feel
special.  Let me guess, your dad told you Why he sent you to him, and they
agreed to some special training?" I nodded, and took a sip.  "Eat, oy!" She
turned into a Jewish grandmother.  All a sudden, like I couldn't even see
it, thought she was Scottish, or something, and then she was speaking in
half Hebrew, "Yiddish," and gesturing all over the place.  "It's Metzger,
back in Poland.  There's some Rom on my mom's side, and she's half Irish."
It was like her dad, and Italian!  So, I took another bite.
   "So anyway, he probably took you aside of the regular class, or had you
stay a little later." Mh!  I nodded, "And the training got a bit more
physical, I'm sure." I swallowed, How do you?  "Hang on," she put her hand
up, not over my mouth, but in front of it, "I used to have a friend, at
Synagogue.  I guess he was my best friend for a while there, we started
holding hands, and play kissing.  Like 'Mwa!' I was only 10, or 11 at that
point, you understand." I shrugged, and finished the sandwhich.  WTH not,
she wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, and it seemed to help, or maybe
I could listen to it better then say it without crying again.  "You see
that's how these guys operate, he wasn't the Rabbi, but was rabinnical, and
I don't know how much you know about the faith," Wha's Ramini?  "Exactly.
More juice?" Mh hm!  "So anyway, he like watched the kids, and the youth,
for during the teaching for the youth.  Yes, like Sunday school, but Shabos
isn't like Sabbath, we don't go on sunday, we come for council, when we
have questions.  And he had questions, because he was getting to the age of
curiosity, and he told him how he could do it without offending, you know."
She pointed up.
   God?  "Yes, but we're Jews, we can't just call him God, that would be
too familiar.  I'm not even supposed to say JHVH around you, because you're
a Goya woman, and our heads aren't covered.  It's a very sexist tradition,
we can't sit with our fathers, and brothers with the Rabbi, we have to go
with our mothers after, with the door closed, and the lights out, and write
it in Hebrew in our palms.  No, not really, but you get the idea." Okay, I
thought it was the whole Florida thing, then California vaya Florida with
her father recovering from Jewishness to Italian, but I guess she's more
complicated than that, and flashing back to her mother or something.  I
guess if I met her, or at least saw a picture I could piece more of it
together, but.
   "Yeah, something like that.  I'm American, it's a stew.  So Aanyways!"
Back t Cali valley, "What happened was I found all the other boys he was
spending way too much time with, and I blew the whistle.  No chance for a
coverup." What was in that?  "Sandwhich?  Oh, some corned beef, swiss, a
little Dijon, want some more?" I shook my head, Lunch.  My folks never fed
me so good.  "Why what do you have at home?" IDK, something frozen, in a
box.  She made a face.  "Whatever, then my Uncle come out, and I guess 2
sex scandals in the family was too much.  I knew about mom cheating, dad
knew about it, most of her lovers didn't know about each other, but if
Everyone found out, well 3 is a very significant number."
   Your uncle's gay?  "Mh hm?" On your dad's side?  "So?" My dad, I told
you he does a lot of research?  He's basicly an internet amateur expert. 
He doesn't know everything, but he knows where to find it, so it's just a
click over to Google, and then he comes back with a lecture that makes him
sound like an Expert.  He's got Blogs, about the only thing he's never had
is Hypochondria.  "Snort." Yeah, so he's on disability, and IRL he's just
exactly the same, only he doesn't actually have Wikipedia in his head. 
"Whiki?" It's like an Encyclopedia, it's huge.  Yeah, so anyway, he's
always reading me stuff, sending me links, he messages me from upstairs to
bring him a roll of toilet paper.  Why I haven't taken you over there, he's
a terrible bore, and he never leaves.  Anyway, that's where I heard about
this study about fraternal Uncles, and homosexuality.
   "What about them?" There's more gay people with homosexual uncles, on
their fathers' side.  I read the whole thing, and it seemed to suggest that
there might be a genetic link, you're really born that way.  "Well, not me
of course." Really?  "What're you talking about?  Maybe you're gay, and
projecting on me, but that's not a problem.  No, really, my dad's from
Sanfransisco, or right down the bay from there, my uncle's probably
cruising Haight/Ashbury right now, I'm not in denial, I think I'd know if I
was gay or not." Oh yeah?  "Far as I can tell." Shrug.
   Meghan {Gf NS}
   "What kind of guys do you like?" She asked, picked up the caraffe, and
drank the last of it.
   "Eh?" Idaknow, "I."
   "See?" Smug smile.
   "No, that's a falacy.  I'm not attracted to any girls, either!" I'm 12!
   "Oh come on, I saw you look at me, and not look at me.  You get all
nervous whenever I'm naked."
   "Yeah, and that was kinda creepy.  Don't forget your abuser trained you
to seek out a replacement.  Okay, I'm sorry, but there isn't a nice way to
say this.  I like you, you're a pretty good friend, and all.  Even kind of
pretty, but you kinda stand out.  That's what I saw in the locker room,
you're 14, in there with a bunch of middle-schoolers, you don't have a
whole lot of modesty, you kicked a boy's ass right in front of me, and
bully the other girls, and yeah, I kinda liked that.  But as a friend. 
You're different, and that's fun to be around, but I don't curl up with my
stuffed tiger, and sigh myself to sleep at night dreaming about you.  I'M
TWELVE.  Things are starting to get all grody down there, my nipples ache,
and I hate this itchy fucking training bra, that's it.  I don't even want
to think about sex right now, and TBPH, the first boy I kissed turned out
to be molested by our Tinokos.  It's like a Youth Minister, or whatever."
   "So, you're not gay yet?" I sigh, and roll my eyes.  Uncle Danny said he
alway knew, or there was something different when he was too young to
realize what.  Not, me, I'd been exposed to gays, I knew them, and that
still wasn't me.
   "I Don't Fucking Know!" I got up, felt like running, but that felt a lot
like denial.
   "Well," she calmed down, "Okay, what did you see when you looked at my
body?"
   I caught my breath, and thought about it.  "Like, you know, Seriously?
Huh, all right, TBPH, I noticed you shave.  I mean other then the boobs,
the thing that really stuck out is you had some stubble yesterday, and
today, you were smooth as a baby again for mister Meganekko Ecchi creepy
pants." Her face fell.  "All right, I'm sorry, again.  But don't you see,
this is exactly my point?  I don't even think about this stuff yet.  I'm
not ready to think about it, boys are still kinda gross, and scary, and
while I guess I feel more comfortable around you, it's because I have a
frame of reference.  Uh!" God, she could be so thick sometimes.  "It's like
foreshadowing, in English class?  Yeah, so I see you, and it's kind of like
looking in the future a couple years."
   Or a couple of years into the future.  "I'll have" I wave up, and down,
"That, or something like it whenever I grow up some more.  Maybe not so
tall, but boobs, and bras, and more then a couple hairs.  Hips, a waist,
I'm like a board right now, look at me." I flop my shirt up, real quick. 
Now I know I'm upset, on account of my grammer and sentence structure are
all shot to hell.  "I'm not going to be a kid much longer, and to tell the
truth, it's scary.  You said you started when you were what, 8?  You
remember what that was like?  You said yourself the boys noticed you, and
you didn't know how to handle it, and I'm a late bloomer, so that's where
I'm at right now.  So yeah, I guess I'm not gay yet, I don't know what the
hell I am, but a scared little girl." And now I wanted to dive under the
covers, pull them over my head, hug Khanny, and cry myself asleep.
   "Ohhh," she stood up, and hugs me, and I stared crying, but it felt a
little better to feel her pet my hair, and sooth me.  "And I really miss my
mom." Muffled in her shirt, I guess there was a little Denial in there.  I
sniffed, I hated her, of course.  The nasty stuff she said about Uncle
Phil, and her leaving us, and cheating on dad, and all those guys, and she
wasn't even a Jew!  She converted, Kind of a Semitophile, I guess.  I was
kind of mumbling all this in her chest, but it was blubbering muffled
gibberish, and I really needed to do this right now.  That's what was
wrong, I hated her, but she was my mommy, and dad didn't have anyone else
in his life, and quite honestly, I don't guess I wanted to.  To compete
with her for his attention, just having the new store was almost like a
mistress, and no there wasn't any Edopus Complex in there, but I just lost
my mom, and I felt like I was losing dad, and the bare dead ground was
sideways so it felt like I was going to slide off into some bottomless dark
abyss, and I really Really needed this hug.
   "Snh!  And my glasses are all fogged up." I wiped my eyes, and dried
them off on my shirt.
   "Feel better?" she kissed my head.
   "A little." I put them back on.
   "Who's Connie?" she wondered.
   "Khanny," I giggled a little, "My tiger, you know Shere Khan from Jungle
Book?  Well, I got him when I was like 6, so I used to call him 'Khanny'."
And I just slipped back to childhood for a few.  "I didn't have any
brothers, and sisters, or anything." Mom said I had a crush on Mowgli, too,
it was like my favorite movie.
   Megan's Home {Gf NS}
   Okay, dad was getting a little thick around the middle, but like a short
Mario Batali.  Mega's dad didn't look like he could move.  He called
downstairs from the office "That you hunny?"
   "Just me, dad!' She took me up to meet him, and I saw what she ment
about why she didn't take me home.  Or smelled, really, my mom would die,
or her head would explode, or whatever.  I couldn't tell if they were
hoarders, or the maid was just buried in one of the piles, but then mister
Lowrey scooted back, and I expected a little joystick on the arm when he
turned around .  Don't think about Jabba the Hut, damnit!  Don't think. 
"Meghan, eh?" at least it wasn't that "Hohohoho!" laugh, he sounded reedy
and nazal, and would probably be pretty little if he wasn't like half fat.
"Our Megan told us so much about you."
   "Oh dad." She sounded so, dissappointed.  So ashamed, and she looked
nervous.  "Come on,: she pulled me out by the arm, and he turned back to
the page, or whatever.  Black screen, wall of text, no pictures, didn't
look nothing like Facebook, or Twitter.  We followed the noise to a door
that looked like a serial killer might hack through with an axe, and she
pounded on it.  "Jeremy!" She yelled through the racket, and it got louder
when Shrek opened it up.  Metal Dude, long hair, same light brown as her,
but it looked greasier, and split all the way to his scalp.
   "Hey," he leaned against the door, "Who's this?"
   "MegHan," she hit him, "And she's 12, you perve!  We're going to go
study, so you think you could dial it back so the ceiling don't cave in on
us?"
   "Sure," he gave her the finger, slammed the door, and cranked it louder.
   "What's with the hellboy goggles?" I wondered.  On top of his head, like
he was welding in there, or something.
   "Uh!" I followed her downstairs, "He's going through this 'Industrial
Dance' thing right now."
   "He can dance?" I wondered.
   "No," she scoffed, "On you tube." (Lucky he didn't come out with the
gas-mask on.)
   "Wh?"
   "Movies, a whole bunch of amatures, and re-posts, and lame-ass comments.
What've you been living under a rock, or something?"
   "Yeah, for about 3 days." That got a "Ha!"
   Okay, I didn't go to Bais Jaakov, or whatever, but I didn't explain it
to her.  "Mom thought the internet was of the devil, or something," and I
never really understood it, before.
   "Yeah, well I can pretty much come, and go whenever I want, so I'm here
to sleep, and that's about it, but I got an old laptop downstairs." In the
basement.  the den was like a storage room.  There's like a home-gym in
there, somewhere.  All kinds of stuff piled on it, and anything else level,
some bookshelfs, with jars I have no interest in investigting.  Then the
laundry room, and I mean a carpet of dirty clothes all the way across it, I
wanted to grab that box of tide, bury my face in it, and breath it in, but
I just closed my nose instead.  "See what you mean" no wonder she didn't
feel dirty, and showered like 3 times a day.  It was a pig stie, except her
room.  It made mine look clean, it had a floor, bed, desk, TV/DvD, and a
computer folded open with some speakers, and mysterious boxes plugged into
it.  "It's a dynasaur," she touched a button in the middle of it looked
like a pencil eraser, and lights came on.  Then the screen started to.  I
hear a fan, or whatever spin up.
   "Uh?" Manga girl.  Not all Ecchi, but close.  She clicked on a little
rainbow circle thingy, and covered it with a Window.
   "Hm," she sat down, and flashed sparks.  Holding up a flame, she lit a
cigarette, and set it down.
   "You smoke?" The ceiling went ThwumpaThwumpaThwumpa overhead.  {SFX:
Ministry - Reload (Filthpig)}
   "Not really," she shrugged, "Just at home.  Don't really have any
incense."
   "Jeremy!" I jumped.
   "Megan's Home!" he yelled down.
   "Megan!" she yelled down the stairs.
   "IN A MINUTE!" over the din.
   "Megan GET YOUR SKINNY BUTT UP HERE!"
   "IN A MINUTE!" she typed, and clicked real quick.  "Here, found it."
   "Close the door," I took over the chair, and stubbed out the smoking
butt.
   [Fecundy of Homosexuals, and Paternal Siblings: A genetic link? 
(Abstract)]
   I coughed, and tried to wave the smoke away from my eyes.  It was all
way over my head, so I moved the little pointer around with the eraser, and
hovered over the buttons at the top, like in computer class.  It was kind
of like "What kind of Jock sucks at Volleyball?" only it was Nerd, and
Internet respectively.  I get made fun of for my Phone, it's got buttons,
like the usual dozen, and the navigation circle with a couple more to turn
it off, and on.  "It doesn't even have a camera?  Ahahahahaha!"
   I clicked <Back< and then found History.  That looked good, but a bunch
of, Okay, that didn't look interesting, I didn't care for a lot of words
that popped up, or want to understand them too much.  Like "Gasper," it
wasn't like what's that Japanese "Boys Love" one mister creeper said, but
BDSM was probably an acronym for something.  Noooo!  <Back< Okay,
AnnaNet.org, uhm.  Okay, this was one of these Blog thingies, or whatever,
but they used a lot of code-words, about purging, self denial, some of them
sounded suicidal or talked about hurting themselves.  Then, I hit [Home]
and saw a picture of some skeletal woman.
   Anorexia, and Bulemia Support Network: The long road to beauty.
   Yyeeaah!  <Back<<back<
   The rest of it looked like all porn, only they weren't tied up, or
anything.  Hm, boys, girls, boys and girls, girls and girls, girls with
penises.
   I [x]ed out the window, and went to take a shower.  At least it was
clean, er in there.  It felt good to breathe some moisture in there, I
figured out why she didn't have any clothes stuffed under her bed, or in
the closet.  It was all thrown out her door, which didn't close, nor look
like it had in a long time.  The shower was plastic, but about the size of
the ones in the locker room.  It smelled bleachy, which I didn't mind that
much.
   Don't think about...  Yeah, right.  Okay, so think about the ones that
weren't totally horrifying.  Or not the pictures, I had someone I could
picture, and it wasn't that bad.  In her underwear, headded for the showers
after PE...  I took a deep breath, and, sort of, felt around, or whatever.
Ever since, I started, you know, "Getting a visit from my friend" as mom
used to say.  I had to clean it out, or wipe after peeing, but that was
pretty much it.  It didn't feel like that, all gross, and scary, and I
don't want to think about.  "Huh." Okay, I rubbed my face.  "Everybody does
this." So I hear.  It doesn't come with an instruction manual.  It took me
months just to figure out how to clean out the.  Eww.
   Focus.  This just wasn't working, and I sure wasn't getting any cleaner.
So, I got out, found a towel, dried my hair, and tiptoed through the
laundry.  At least the laundry room door closed.  I went back to the
computer, brought up History again, and hit down down down until I got past
all the porn sights.  I stopped, put the pointer between 2 links, and went
back, and forth between them.  "Eeny," Molly Millions - Google Image
Search, and "Meenie," So that's how you spelled Wikipedia.
   Age of Consent in North America.
   Down down down to United States...  History, Federal Laws, Rules... 
State Laws.  Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas...  Click, and it jumped
down the page.  "Hm," 17, but.  15-16 with someone no more then 10 years
older, 14, and under less then 4 years older.  <Back< Molly Millions.
   Jonny Mnemonic, Costume, Mirrorshades, Case, Neuromancer, lots, and lots
of pictures.  Down, down, down.  Looked like none of them have any eyes,
which is creepy.  Some of them hold up their hand, and there's knives
sticking out of her fingers.  Here's one with kind of reddish hair, or
Hilites, as she calls them.  Click on it, same dead eyes, but like 8 more
pictures.  There's this one, standing in front of a neon skyline, but
instead of the dead eyes, she's got like frameless glasses, reflecting the
color of the sky.  Deviantart, I thought that was another porn site.
   She didn't look like me, at all, the hair was too brown, and short.  But
she had her hand over her chest, above the heart.  Short dark red nails,
and grey blade like daggers sticking out way past them.  "Aggro," as dad
would say.
   Or maybe,
   "Mega."
   "Hey," she appeared at the door, "Sorry, mom went out to Costco, and."
She stopped, put her hand on my shoulder.  It's not like I just stopped on
the photo, I figured out how to make it bigger, and IDK how long I was
looking at it, or in the shower.  "She uh, got a truckload of stuff."
   "Oh?" I clicked back, clicked on the Age of Concent button.  "So, why
were you looking for the Age of Consent?"
   "Go back to the History page." <back< "Okay, scroll right."
   "How do I?"
   "The arrows on the corner, under the Enter key."
   "Okay." >>>
   "I haven't been back in a couple days." Like before we went to visit her
'Master.' Of course he made her call him that.  Huh, when she told me how
her dad was afraid for her, I imagined he looked, well not like grown into
a chair.  Like her, only taller, short light brown hair, and mustache,
tall, and muscley or whatever.
   "Okay." I stood up, and turned around.  She looked at me, and her
eyebrows kind of went together.  I reached up, and took my glasses off,
with the hand that wasn't holding up the towel.  I blinked up at her, and
let it go.
   Mega {GF Saph Hand Cons.}
   I had a scream, it was locked up deep inside me.  Even I couldn't hear
it, just shrink back in fear.  From the creepers, and believers, peepers,
deceivers.  They could see the pain, and feed on it.  My soul, left me
hollow, dead inside.  Couldn't look in their eyes, until I found a pair,
that looked back.  They unlocked me, threw back the chains, and pierced the
door.  Deep within, they found my scream, and it filled me.  Her lips
pealed back mine, and it caught on my teeth.  It became a roar, unleashed,
and the world shrank back in fear.
   They scattered, fled in terror, then fell shattered.  Torn asunder by an
exploding heart.  They looked up, and their eyes fell on each other,
blasted back from mine.  They couldn't face it, choked, on their tears, and
drowned.  I had a scream, but there were none left to hear it, except for
you.  I peeled back my lips, and she smiled back.
   "Okay?" I kissed her head, and put my hand on her chest.  She looked
down, "What did you do to your nails?" I could feel her heart, racing
unbelievably fast.
   I sat on my bed, "Have a seat." but didn't push.  "Huh!" Facepalm.
   "You cut them off?" I scratched my leg.
   "Look, uh." fuck!  "I uh," why was this so hard?  "Hmh, I don't want to
give you the wrong idea, or.  uh." Damn it!  "Let you assume the right, uh
one."
   She sighed, and rolled her eyes.  I looked down, she's TWELVE!  "Can we
just take it slow?"
   "What." Not a question, "What can we take slow?" for me.
   "Uh!" she grunted, "This, us.  Okay, you're right, okay?  I think I'm in
love with you, or starting to, fall in love, and it's scary, but that's
what I think I love.  Ugh."
   Derp.  Okay, you ever think something, that's magnificent in your head,
and then you get there, and it's not.  Now, drop a crater around that.  I
guess there was some "You want to do this here, Now?" in there.  I just
wasn't ready is all.
   "Stand up," I sigh, "Let me have a look at you." Not much to work with.
I always thought about myself as some sort of artist.  Never really Talked
about it, because it's kind of hard to explain.  You know, abstract?
   "Painting?" Yeah, now take away the painting, the canvas, the studio,
the building, the background and the world.  "That's pretty abstract."
Yeah, so I don't know where to start.  "Okay?" she looked around.  "What
are you trying to say?"
   I think I need your help, looking for it.  All right, I don't know what
'It' is.  Maybe it's one of those teenager things, "I wanna be a rock star,
or a dancer, or a florist, or a cook." Your dad's good, I didn't know food
like that existed, much less that I could experience it.  "Nhn?" Look
around, this is what I had.  The freezer's packed with Lasanias,
mack&cheese, chicken encheladas.  Huuuuhn.  I had sex, with Harold. 
Horowicz.  Yeah, he took my virginity, that's it.  It was weeks ago.  You.
Your right.  He took advantage of me, when I was just about where you are
now.  Uh, damnit.  where?  here!  Look.  See what he saw, in me?  I'm
sorry, it's harsh, but look.
   She sat down, "I get it," held up her hand, "The food analogy, your
mirrorshades, but you forgot to mention 1 thing." She made all but a fist.
"Your not him."
   "No." I shook my head, "You don't get it."
   "No YOU don't get it!" she was on her feet.  "I don't want to fuck you.
Okay, maybe someday, but that's not what's important.  I love you, or I
want to.  This is just my body, I'm so over it.  Your whole casual nudity
thing?  Okay, I'm down.  But that's not what I'm offering you.  That's not
what I want from you." She stepped forward, reached out, and put her hand
on my chest.  Then she grinned, bent down, and kissed me.
   Then, it was kinda magnificent.  Her hand on my neck, under my hair.  It
wasn't like, 'Mwalm!' all tounges, and heavy breathing like in the movies.
She just kinda held her lips there, on mine, not tight, but relaxed, and I.
I really need to work on my words, I guess.  I mean, I'm doing good in
English, the second time around, but if there's words for it, they didn't
cover them yet, in middle-school.  She rubbed my neck, and I wanted to turn
into it, like a cat, and maybe start purring.  I remember my first time,
and that felt, like a nitemare, but not one of those where the monsters are
chasing me, or I look down, and I'm naked.  Nothing you can point to, and I
guess I didn't admit it was fear, at the time.
   I know I didn't want to make her feel like that, ever, and that was a
fear I could point to.  This time, I guess I have to think up a simile.  It
was like, I threw a rock down a well, and it just fell, without hitting
anything.  I know I'm no poet, or have any idea what a well feels like, a
'frame of referance' but that's the image it brings to mind.  Some girls
sing about Melting, but that sounds slow, not like falling, so yeah.  It
felt like falling, and splashing in the bottom.  I definitely felt it, down
there, and it was as sudden as a crash.  I think I fell in love with her,
or finally understood what that ment.
   "Mh!" I held her arm, and her side.  Intensely aware of what she was. 
It wasn't stronger then who, but I guess that was the little fear that
didn't go away.  Barely more than a child, not quite a teen.  I loved her,
now I was sure of it, but I couldn't overlook how young she really was. 
Just a couple years, but the important years, between a little girl, and a
young lady.  I didn't feel like a child molester, but I kept waiting for
it, kinda wondered what that felt like.
   And she felt like a child.  Really, kind of pudgy, not fat, but what
little she had, it puffed out her tummy, made her button poke in, and
looked like babyfat, which doesn't help.  Even her chest, she took my hand,
and held it over her heart again, and sighed.  My other hand shook on her
side, didn't want to move down to her hip, or back to her butt, or around
front.  Okay, I did.  But I hesitated.
   She wasn't fat, but besides the pink swollen points, her little cones
were more like pudge then real breast growth.  I moved my hand to one, felt
it flatten from the pinched cone, and the soft nipple.  She gasped a
little. "Sorry," I opened my eyes, "Still tender?" She blinked, and shook
her head.  Pushed her glasses back up.  She has a pretty big nose, but that
was something else the glasses kind of made up for.  Made her eyes look
huge, and she pushed into my hand more, so I felt up from her hip.  They
were pink, like the freckles around her neck, and shoulders.  She felt up
my arms, and pulled me in, I kissed the side of her neck, and she sighed
pretty loud.
   "DINNER!" we jumped, "It's ready Everyone!" Dammit!
   "NOT HUNGRY!" But the mood was killed.  She giggled, and I let her go. I
did my chore, so she'd've left us alone all night, but it really hit home
that I was down here, kissing a naked 12 year old girl in my room.  It
broke the spell.
   "Come on," she sighed, and looked for clothes, "We have to eat." She
found some from the basket that weren't too baggy, and borrowed a belt. 
Chicken Enchaladas, my favorite!  or not as bland as the Mac&Cheese, or
Lasagna, or whatever.  I didn't hate it as much.  Famly size, I folded up
the rest, and stuffed it in the fridge.
   Gary {MGf NS.}
   "Hey, Megs!" She cut her hair.
   "Mega." And was starting to get moodier.  My Meghan told me she was,
like 14.
   I laughed, "I ment both of you."
   "Hey dad?" I looked down.  "Can we go shopping?" Not a single fathers
favorite words.  "I need new clothes."
   "What's" They looked fine, but I don't like the way her voice fell.
   "She's getting picked on," Mega' spoke up, "She's in middle school, and
the girls, some of them are pretty Vicious."
   "Okay," I checked my watch, "Kind of have to get set-up for the weekend
rush, what's the timeframe?" 9-5 people, a lot of them don't realize that
what I do is feed them when they're off work, which means not really
Monday-Friday.  "This is the big Under New Management weekend, kinda a big
deal."
   "School's out 'till monday," she looks up at her.
   Mega puts on her sun-glasses, "All right," points at me, "You're from
the valley," cocks back her thumb, "You know how this works." and Giggles.
"Hand-over the plastic."
   "Yeah right!" I can't help laughing.
   "Come on dad," she hopped, "It's been 12 Years!" I'd gotten her new
clothes, "Look at these, I'm like a school-girl, all I need is pigtails for
them to yank."
   I sigh, "I have been dreading this day," pulled out my moneyclip, "This
is $200.00" counted out 10 bills, "And a test." I held them up.
   "Love you daddy!" I had to pick her up so she didn't yank my head off,
Mega' slipped her finger under the bills, and pinched them with her thumb.
   "She get's the money, everything's her call, nobody'd think she'd be
carrying that much." Or, admittedly thinking of fucking with her.  Okay
Anne Burrell hair, looks nothing like her, by the way.  Only brown, shiny
aviator style glasses, cheap gas station knockovs, I'm guessing Hot.  If
you make it out of the parking lot, they're probably not chasing you down
for $5.99, plus tax.  Jean jacket, "Is that a knife?"
   "No, mister Mitchel," so formal!  "It's a chunk of rebar, wrapped in
tape.  A knife is dangerous." So, punk rrRRAW!  She's been wearing mostly
pastels since I met her, like I said, 14.  3 years of Krav Maga.  "Keep her
safe."
   "And out of trouble," she nodded, "No problem, Gary!?" Can't keep up the
act, but I guess I felt a little safer with a wannabe punk that doesn't
have to shoplift this trip, and won't do anything worse to get a ride home
with the cops.  Tonite.
   Mega {Gf Nude Fond, NS}
   I guess I should have been proud of Jeremy, finding a girlfriend. 
Actually got out of the house, and talked to one, without her running,
screaming away.  Couldn't last, so might as well cash in on the discount.
At the "Spa" or a barbershop with a sprinkle of pretention, the halloween
theme is probably the reason behind her irrational lack of fear.  Eyebrow
stud, lip ring, black dye, lips, nails, and eyes.  Maybe she was attracted
to creepers, IDFK, they were perfect for each other.
   So anyway, she did mine at home, down in the bathroom, worked in some
hilites that were almost, but not quite a color found in nature.  In the
Spa, Meghan got up, rubbed the back of her neck, and tried twisting around
to see the back.  "Here," Mona's rings clicked around the handle of the
mirror, but she showed her.  Kind of a high arch, so high sha had to shave
a little with the clippers, and low sharp looking wings around her face. 
She picked up her glasses, and put them on.
   "What d'ya think?" Her head tilted, so one of the wings swung out to
brush her shoulder.  I payed the twelve bucks, and stepped out of the AC.
The hot came back, with a vengance.  A little teaser of fall, then Gotcha!
Hell on earth.
   Meghan {Gfff, NS}
   "Pft!" I hear them coming, "Here's little Mirobitchel." Somebody payed
attention in math class!  "I didn't know Avril Lavigne had a new album out.
Ahahahahaha."
   "Where's Megaego?" Smarmy.
   "Id." I sighed.  "Right behind you, duh!" They looked, and I was gone.
   "Scared little Brat!" And your little dog...  Whatever.
   Down the hill from the back goal, there was a little, not really a
valley, more of a ditch, and around the corner, we could at least get away
from everyone.  And hear the bell.  I stopped out of site, put down my
backpack, and just stood there, reading Burning Chrome.  Not really as
good, I kind of like the back-story, and see why she's into the whole
cyberpunk think.  No razorgirl nails yet, nor cybersnake, I love it when
she calls me YT.  Not where anyone can hear, take it as "Whiitey," The
cybernetic scateboard would be kinda cool, I'll settle for a fixie, and a
courior bag with RadiKS stensled on in Sharpy.  Still don't know what we're
looking for, but it's as good a place to start as any, secondhand, and army
surplus stores are a gold-mine.  Still got like half the cash he gave us
for shopping.
   I drop the book when I feel the arm across my shoulders, gripping one
tight, and pulling in.  I grab her wrist, drop, and twist, just like she
showed me, and go for 2 points of contact.  Shoulder, hip, try to get her
center of gravity over, and past mine.  "Not bad," she holds me.
   "I knew it!"
   "Damn you, Tyler!" She relaxed, moved closer, "Do it."
   "NhnNH!" I threw her, but she rolled, and popped back up with a
quickness.  Of course, she helped, that time, but still.
   "I'm just teaching her to fight," she started up the hill.  "You stupid,
inbred, jerkss pile of shit.  You really think we climbed down in a dirty
ditch to make all your lesbo fantasies come true?"
   "No?  And don't call me that, Shit!"
   "Here," she held her hand up, took his, and punched him in the gut. 
"Hrn!  Let me show you." He tumbled, down, kicking up a lot of dust, and
jumped out of the way.  Now, I'm a lover, not a fighter, just not all that
into the idea of being victimized.
   "You bitch!" he got up, so I tried to stay behind him, but she was
running, back down the hill.  A lot of dirt, and clods came with her, and
she jumped before the bottom to tackle him.
   "Watch!" she socked him, "Your MOUth!"
   "Get off me!" he threw her aside, but he's a lot bigger then her. 
Probably not the only one held back, and he''s a boy.  "Crazy bitch!" She
backed up, but he ran after her, and I backed up the other hill to watch.
He landed on her, but she rolled up on the slope, and grabbed him with her
legs.
   "Oh, I'm a bitch!" She twisted,back, and forth, until he fell over, got
up on 1 knee,"But if you Ever!" and came down on an elbow "Call me a Dyke!"
then kicked him in the side with her knee, "Or Lesbo," he grabbed her arms,
and tried to roll her over, but she twitsed around, so it either had to be
uphill, or snap his legs.  "I'll make you a girl." No strike, she just held
him down.  "You hear me?  That's the deal.  You ever call me gay again, or
her, and your FUCKED!  Now LET go of me." She jumped up, and backed off.
   And, I guess that's how the rumor really took hold.  Of course, it was
an empty threat, and he was too stupid to realize she was probably capable
of it.  I don't know how much of that was Krav Maga, and how much of it was
rage, but she was getting fucking Aggro.  "Sorry about that," she dusted
off her clothed, checked her elbows, which were pretty bloody, and caked
with dirt.  "He's got a thing for me."
   "I know."
   "No, we go back to like 4th grade together.  He had a crush on me back
then, used to chase me, wrote a shitty poem, and came into My class to give
it to me on Valentines it was embarassing all around, and he's been
escalating ever since.  He's got this big "Be a man!" dad, real dick, he'll
be great for football, if he ever gets to highschool.  Not failing PE." No,
probably not.  "Anyway, next time, try to get the side of your foot into
their shin, here.  Let me grab you again, now." She reached down to tap my
leg.  "KIck back until you feel the shin.  Yeah, that's it, but if you want
to hurt someone, you have to kick harder." She let me go.  "If you follow
that down, and get your heel into the top of there foot.  stomp down as
hard as you can, put all your weight on it, and you might could pop a few
bones loose.  Most people don't know this, but over half of the bones in
the body are in our hands, feet, and spines.  That's a lot of joints, and
you can do a lot of damage the more you fuck up in there.  Then, you might
be able to use that opening to throw someone whose bigger, and stronger,
and knows how to not get thrown.  Tyler's also been wrestling for years in
the off season, for example, but I've been fighting him for years, and he's
pretty predictable.  Also, every time I humiliate him, it pisses him off
more.
   Now, go to class," She kissed my forhead," I have to go report a fight
before he does.  Maybe he'll get expelled.  It's a lot worse when a 14 year
old boy attacks a 14 year old girl, and he's got the history of violence,
anyway."
  
Amberguity