This choice: Save the mask for Kendra • Go Back...Chapter #24In Character by: Seuzz   "Nah, we'll just save it for Kendra tomorrow. I'll talk to you then." You hang up and slowly draw your shirt back on. "Can I trust you dipshits to get this stuff done?" you ask the golems.
"Yeah," the Prescott golem says.
The other one says nothing, and you stride over to confront him with hands on your hips. He just stares down at his mask, working slowly. You grab him by the throat and force his head up. "You gonna have that finished by tomorrow?"
"Gimme a fucking break," he says. "Even if I stay up all night--"
"We need it." You tighten your grip, then shove him hard against the junk along the wall. "I will fuck you up if you don't have it done tomorrow afternoon." You jab a finger in Prescott's face. "And if he's not finished, I'll fuck you up too." After giving them both a hard glare, you stride from the basement.
* * * * *
Lynch is a sadist at school, but at home he's all "Yes'ms" and "Yessirs," and you quickly get through his chores. Dinner is pleasant and your parents ask about your day. You describe it with polite relish, emphasizing such good works as lending a sympathetic ear to a girl who got dumped and saving a couple of classmates from a bully. Afterward complete both your and Gordon's homework in Lynch's small, neat handwriting. As bedtime approaches you feel the need to relax, so you do a few easy curls with the free weight set and then let your mind wander to lustier corners. Where's the porn? Shit, you haven't got any. You frown. What kind of psycho is Lynch that he hasn't got some nudie magazines, even hidden away? Well, there's the stack of health and fitness magazines he keeps in his lower dresser drawer. You flip through the well-thumbed issues, grunting appreciatively over the pictures of beefy guys in tight shirts and shorts, then stop with a blink. Lynch is an exercise fanatic, and he knows all this stuff backwards and forwards; why does he keep these magazines--
You shake your head and return to the desktop computer, flipping open bookmarked sites and recent browser histories. Nothing really excites you, and after setting it to "private browsing" you search out some of your own favorite sites, but none of them stir you as much as you'd like. Maybe it's because your cock just doesn't make a very tall tentpole, even fully aroused.
* * * * *
You wake early for your regular jog, then head off for school, to meet up with the baseball team in the fields behind the track. Lynch is much more of a pro around them, and indulges none of his worst antics, so everyone treats him with friendly--if slightly wary--respect. "Where'd you bust out to yesterday?" Shep Tsosie asks.
"Following a girl," you grin. "You know, give her a shoulder to cry on, shit like that."
Shep--"Maize" since grade school, on account of his Native American stock--pulls back his long black hair and resettles his cap. "Well, Gelding noticed, gave the class extra homework. Shit not on the schedule."
"Fuck! Why didn't you call and tell me?"
"Because I skipped, too. You're not the only one who chases girls." He spits into the dirt. "I only found out this morning when Brophy called."
"And why was he fucking late with the news?"
"Because he's an asshole?" Maize chews the inside of his cheek meaningfully.
"Looks like I got business with him, then," you say. Maize won't dirty his hands, but he knows you, and will wind you up when he wants something done about someone. "Sean Mitchell, too," you mutter.
"What's with Sean? He's a good guy."
"Ain't nothin' wrong with Sean, 'cept he's a pussy."
"Well, that's your business." Maize trudges out to join the others by home plate. The next thirty minutes is taken up with throwing and hitting balls. But your concentration is elsewhere.
* * * * *
Brophy Maddox is a nobody, a sneaky little weasel who hangs around Lester Brown and sneers at his victims, and he's an idiot, too. If he'd only kept his mouth shut about Gelding's extra assignments you'd not think to have a grudge against him. But he had to gloat to Maize ahead of time. So you track him down second period. All uncomprehending, he just looks up from his desk as you saunter in with a friendly expression. "Hey, got a minute, Maddox?" You cock your head toward the door. From a few seats away Jessica--Caleb--watches closely; Eva, in the next desk, turns away.
Brophy follows you into the hall, which is where you seize his head in the crook of your arm, kick his feet from under him, and drag him by the neck into the closest boys' room; student scatter like pigeons from your path. In the restroom you hurl him to the floor; guys at the urinals--mostly nerds and AP types--swivel to gawp. "Eyes over here, everyone," you call loudly. "What do we do with human shit?"
No one says anything, and most turn away.
"Oy!" you shout. "I said, What do we-- You, Fairfax!" A tall kid jumps, and peers furtively back over his hunched shoulders. "look at me before I stuff you inside that urinal." Hastily, he shoves his cock back inside his pants and turns, holding the front of his trousers together because he can't work the zipper with his trembling hands. A dark stain appears at his crotch. "I asked, What do we do with human shit?"
"Feed it to Eastman students?" a voice squeaks. You turn to give the speaker a dire glance that says you've made a note of his face and will be paying him a visit later. He turns very crimson.
"Since none of you Einsteins can come up with the answer, I'll give it to you. You flush it down the toilet." You glower down at Brophy, who's been watching you with an open mouth from the floor. "Into a toilet stall, you shit." He only sits there, until you take a threatening step toward him, and then he scrambles back across the filthy floor; you chase him all the way until he's inside a stall. "Now put your head in the commode." Again, he doesn't react until you bend over him; and then he rolls over, hugs the sides of the toilet, and gingerly drops his face into the bowl. "Grab the handle." He flounders and flaps his hand until it comes to rest on the metal rod. "Full immersion. Past the ears. Then flush." He hesitates only a moment, and complies. The water gushes and swirls. "Again," you say after the bowl has refilled. "Again," you order a third time.
You leave him to flop weakly by the toilet and turn back to the rest of the students, who are staring at the ground. "This is how we keep the school clean. Notice--" You hold up your hands and waggle your fingers "--I didn't even touch it. That's because human shit is disgusting. I don't wanna see anyone touching that shit in the corner." No one moves or looks up. "Thank you for your attention." With a warm glow of satisfaction you exit the restroom.
* * * * *
As good as it feels to have dealt with Maddox, it does nothing to prepare you for Gelding's fourth-period class, so after second you hurry around to the locker of Brent Pruitt, one of the brainiacs in Gelding's class. There are a few of them in school you keep on good terms with, on the principle that some sheep need to be shorn instead of slaughtered, and Pruitt is one. "I hear the cock-cutter gave us extra work yesterday," you say in a low voice. He glances at you guardedly, and nods. "Lemme peek at yours, I'll get it back to you right after third." He digs through his bag and hands you a couple of papers. "Love ya, man," you say, clapping his shoulder and hurrying off to the library.
But you've just gotten started copying it when Jessica comes in. "The fuck did you do to Brophy?"
"Weasel had it coming," you say brusquely, not looking up from your work. "Go away. I gotta get this shit done this period."
"You're getting too much in character," she says in a low voice, bending close. "The plan was to clean up the school, not turn ourselves into the worst people in it."
"Just keeping undercover until we get all those 'pieces' in place."
"Were you being 'undercover' yesterday afternoon, at the clubhouse?" You look up sharply. "Yeah, I heard about that. You think the guys weren't going to keep their mouth shut after what you did to them?"
"Gimme a fucking break. I was just funnin' with 'em. They knew that."
"I don't like this kind of 'fun' you're having, Will," she says.
You flush. "Bet you're having fun playing with those." You point at her tits. "Well, I'm having fun the best way I know how, as Jason. You'd do the same."
"You think so? Let's put it to a test. We'll get Kendra this afternoon. You switch into her, and I'll take over for Jason, for the rest of today and tomorrow."
You clench your jaw. Fucking Caleb is being a prim little busybody, just like Jessica. Can't he see that, or is he too busy being self-righteous? Switch? Fuck, yeah, then he'll see. But then you remember that Sean needs dealing with. That won't happen until you have Gordon--it'll need two of you--and you'll want to be inside Jason when that goes down.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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