Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Coven Part 6 By Kelly Slimspank KellySlimspank@Googlemail.com
   copyright 2008 by Kelly Slimspank, all rights reserved
   * * * * * This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.  It contains explicit
depictions of sexual activity involving minors.  If you are not of a legal
age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not
appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.  * * * * *
   David ran straight home at a speed that would have impressed Olympic
selectors.  He flew through the front door, thundered up the stairs, and
slammed his bedroom door shut.
   In the kitchen Angela shook her head and tutted "Not so much noise!" she
shouted, more for her own benefit than expecting David to hear or care. 
She looked up at the clock wondering where the afternoon had gone, and
realised he was home very early.  She wiped her wet hands on a tea-towel
put a colander of vegetables on the side, and headed out into the hall. 
Vanity caused her to stop briefly to check her hair before she ascended the
stairs rather more sedately than her son had done.
   "David?" she said knocking on his door gently.  When she didn't receive
a reply she opened the door and peered in cautiously.  She couldn't see
David but guessed that he might be the lump under his duvet.  "David?  Are
you alright?" She crossed over to the bed and shook the lump carefully.
   "David, what's happened?" she asked beginning to worry.  When she still
received no answer she sat on his bed, and started trying to wrestle the
duvet down so she could see him.
   "David, stop being so silly, let go of the duvet!" It took considerable
effort for her to heave the duvet from his death grip and pull it down far
enough for her to see his face.  She was shocked.  He was shaking
violently, his eyes stared wildly, but apart from that he appeared
completely catatonic.  She put a hand to his brow.
   She was concerned.  Normally the school would ring if he was being sent
home, and no-one had called.  He didn't seem to have a temperature at
least. She noticed that he was dressed still.
   "What's the matter darling?  Where does it hurt?" she asked.  David
didn't respond.
   "Do you want me to call the doctor?" she asked.  He shook his head. 
Uncertain of what to do she put a hand on his brow again.
   "At least lets' get you undressed, you'll be more comfortable" she said.
She reached for his tie and started to undo it, but David threw his body
onto its side violently.  "Nooo!" he shouted and dragged the duvet back
over his head.
   She sat still for a moment, at a loss as to what to do.  David had
always been shy, and she thought he was probably just horrified at the
thought of her undressing him.  She sighed and reflected on all the people
who had told her the teenage years would be the worst.
   She patted the lump again "You get some rest, I'll come up and see how
you are later.  Do you want anything?  A drink?  Something to eat?  Some
aspirin?" she waited a few seconds for an answer, but when none came she
got up and left.
   David rested in his cocoon, but there was to be no metamorphoses.  No
butterfly was to emerge where a caterpillar had nested.  If the metaphor
worked at all, it worked in reverse.
   David continued to lie catatonic for over an hour.  His mother's voice;
her presence, had been soothing, but he hadn't been able to deal with her,
hadn't been able to deal with anything.  Now, in the safety of his own bed,
in the safety of his own room, under the protection of his mother, he began
to calm down.  He lay on his back, drew down the duvet and stared at the
ceiling.  He tried to think what he was going to say.  How he was going to
tell her.  How he was going to confess that he was so inadequate that he
was being bullied by a girl.  How he let her...  'Jesus fucking Christ!' he
thought suddenly - how was he going to tell her that he'd been wanked off
in the middle of a history lesson; how was he going to tell her that Helen
had got his erect knob out of his trousers and tossed him in history, with
all his classmates sat around him!?
   He couldn't even bear the thought of raising the subject of hard-ons and
wanking at all, not that masturbating was something he'd ever done himself,
but she'd want to know how it was possible; she'd want to know why he
hadn't stopped her; why he hadn't just shouted at her to stop, attracted
the attention of the teacher.  Why hadn't he?  He asked himself the same
questions.  How could he explain the fear?  How could he make her
understand how terrified he was of...  He started crying suddenly and
buried himself under his duvet again.
   He was still sobbing when his mother returned with a cup of tea and some
biscuits.
   "I thought you might like a nice cup of tea" she said as she quickly
followed her knock into the room.  She put the tray down hurriedly,
spilling tea, as she heard him crying and dashed to the bed.
   "David what's the matter?" she said appalled; she couldn't remember the
last time she'd seen him cry.  Her heart burst with the unexpected pain of
it.  She wrestled the duvet from him with the strength of a wounded tigress
and pulled him into her grasp.  Sitting on the bed she cuddled him fiercely
to her, rocking him gently back and forth.
   "Oh darling, darling, tell mummy what's the matter" she felt a tear
spring to her own eye, and had to swallow to control herself.
   In the absence of any other choice David just said "I don't feel very
well" with a feebleness that strengthened his claim.
   "Where does it hurt?  Show mummy!" this return to a childish language
was entirely instinctive.  In his mother's eyes David's thirteen years
melted away; he was just her baby again.
   "All over" he said, not wanting to be too specific.
   "I think you should get undressed darling, you can't stay in bed with
all your clothes on" she said gently "You haven't still got your shoes on
have you?" she asked, realising they weren't cluttering the floor as they
usually were.
   "I'm alright" he said evasively.
   "I'll wait outside" she said understandingly, "Call me when you're done"
she released him; at least he'd stopped crying now.  She got up and headed
to the door, but turned as she reached it "But if you haven't called me in
five minutes I'm coming in, and if you're not undressed I'll do it for
you." She left with a heavy heart.
   David waited for a few second; just in case she came back, and then
jumped out of bed.  He threw his shoes off, and his socks, and then
realised the state his trousers were in.  He looked around the room
desperately for some way of cleaning them but despite the fact that less
than a minute had passed he panicked that his five might be nearing their
end and he gave that quest up.  He invested a small amount of time in
placing his shoes tidily under his desk and he stuffed his socks in them.
He pulled his shirt off and hung it on the back of his chair.  With a deep
breath he dropped his trousers, folded them carefully and put them on the
chair; then he refolded them, turned them over, tried to find a cleaner
aspect to display to the room.  He jumped back into bed.  He hesitated,
jumped back out of bed and took his shirt off the back of the chair and
draped it over the top of his trousers.  He invested another couple of
seconds to just check everything looked okay, and jumped back into bed
again.  He locked the duvet to himself tightly.
   "I'm ready" he called out weakly, and added a pathetic cough for effect.
   His mother came back in immediately.  She stopped dead in her tracks
when she saw his clothes neatly folded; his shoes sitting parallel under
his desk; 'He really must be ill' she thought.
   She sat on his bed again, and more as a comfort for herself she felt his
brow again.
   "You haven't got a temperature.  Have you got a rash?" she asked.
   "I don't think so" he said.
   "Well let me have a look" she said tugging at the duvet.
   "No, I haven't.  I checked, there's no rash" he said.
   "Don't be silly, let me have a look" she said continuing the battle for
the duvet.
   "Mum!" he whined.
   "I only want to look at your chest, I'm not going to uncover your bits"
she said in a voice laden with exasperation.
   He relaxed his grip with the greatest of reluctance.  She still had to
pull the duvet from him, but he didn't fight her anymore.  She lowered it
to his tummy and examined his handsome chest.  She dropped a maternal hand
to it and stroked him tenderly.
   "Looks okay.  Sure you haven't got any spots or anything anywhere else?"
she asked.
   "No!" he said seizing the duvet again for fear his mother was going to
lower it further.
   She sighed heavily and ruffled his hair "It's not like I haven't seen it
all before you know" she said.  She pulled the duvet back up again and
kissed him on the cheek.
   "Well you seem a bit brighter now at least" she got up and fetched the
tray "I brought you some tea and biscuits" she settled the tray carefully
in his lap.
   "If you don't feel up to coming downstairs later on I'll bring your
dinner up" she said, and she stroked his hair.
   "Mum?" he said tentatively.
   "Yes darling" she replied.
   David paused, hesitated, then began to tear up again "Just...  thanks"
he said finally.
   "Are you sure there isn't something else the matter?" she asked.  He
shook his head.
   She gave him another kiss on the cheek "You would tell me if there was
wouldn't you?" she asked.
   "Of course" he said a little bit too enthusiastically.  She got up,
unconvinced "If you still don't feel well tomorrow I'll call the doctor."
David felt certain he'd never feel well again.
   Angela had just turned the pork chops when there was a knock at the
door. She pushed them hurriedly back into the oven, wiped her hands on the
tea-towel, and checking her hair on the way, opened the front door.  She
was surprised to see a rather pretty girl with David's school bag.
   "Hello" said Angela.
   "Hi, I'm Helen" said the girl "Um, I guess you must be Mrs Turner,
David's mum?" she queried.
   "Angela please, I'm not that old yet" said Angela.
   "I brought David' bag home for him" said Helen, sounding concerned.
   "Do you know what happened?" asked Angela.
   "I don't think he was very well" said Helen "He had a funny turn in
history, and he rushed out.  We we're all really worried."
   "Well he's a bit better now, thanks for bringing his bag.  I'll tell him
you called by" said Angela taking the bag.
   "Mr Tanner asked me to bring David's homework, if he's well enough to do
it" said Helen.
   Angela regarded Helen closely.  She hadn't imagined David had girl
friends at school; he'd never confessed to any interest in girls, but then
he was at that age where you don't really talk about things like that to
your mother.  Perhaps Helen was not just a girlfriend; perhaps she was the
girlfriend.  Helen seemed older, more mature, but then girls were at that
age.  She knew she oughtn't be surprised.  David was a very handsome boy,
he was sociable, amiable, and when he tried he could even be charming. 
Looking at Helen, she thought he probably made the effort.
   "Are you his friend then?" Angela asked.
   Helen smiled a little embarrassedly; shuffled her feet "We're quite good
friends" confessed Helen coyly.  Angela thought she looked so sweet;
probably the first romance for both of them.  She tried to cast her mind
back to her first crush; it seemed such a long time ago now.
   "Well look, why don't you come in.  You can give it to him yourself,
it'll probably be easier if you explain it to him anyway.  Might cheer him
up a bit too" said Angela stepping aside from the door.
   "Thanks Mrs Turner, if you're sure it's okay" said Helen stepping over
the threshold.
   "Angela" said Angela.  Helen smiled apologetically.  "Up the stairs,
first door on the right" Angela said.
   "Thanks Angela" said Helen starting up the stairs.
   Angela shook her head and started back to the kitchen.  
  
COV6_The_Coven_Part_6