The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

On Monday morning, I found Roy waiting with Sherry as June drove me and my sister to school. I now knew that Roy and Merry were an unofficial couple, although I still did not come to terms with my feelings about this. The fact remained that Roy has always been one of my closest friends since elementary school, and I really didn’t want anything to come between us. I knew that I would need to investigate my feelings about this some time soon.

I gave June a kiss before I got out of the car, and I opened the door for Merry. As Roy approached us, I said, “Roy, I have a favor to ask.”

Roy glanced nervously at Merry and then back at me. “For you, anything.”

I smiled. “I have an idea to make this year’s talent show the best one ever. The money it makes is supposed to go to help out the chorus, so I figured you guys would be thrilled with what I have in mind.”

Roy looked a bit surprised. “Are you thinking of entering?”

“Not in the way that you’re thinking. I want to donate the services of the jazz band to help the performers look great. We have some bitchin’ players and singers, and as a back up band, we can really make people sound great!”

“The jazz band...” Roy’s voice trailed off, and I could see the cogs in his mind turning. A smile came to his lips.

I smiled again as I saw Roy’s reaction. “I thought you’d appreciate the idea. Can you pass this along to the other chorus members and any of the jazz band that you see? I’d like to have a special jazz band practice tomorrow afternoon to go over some ideas. It’s all voluntary, and it won’t be an official jazz band event, since I don’t want the band to eclipse the real stars of the event... the people actually performing.”

Roy nodded, his mind far away.

I glanced at my sister. “I’ll leave the two of you guys alone. Don’t be late for first period!”

June and Sherry accompanied me toward the school.

“That’s a real cool idea!” June said.

“Maybe the cheerleaders could help,” I said, smiling.

“The cheerleaders?” Sherry asked.

“Sherry, you have one of the best dancers that I’ve ever seen offering to help you train the cheerleaders. I’m sure Lynette would be thrilled to help you guys help out the chorus.”

“Ooh, Lynette,” June said, gushing a bit.

“So you’re saying that you want to provide a back up band and have the cheerleaders as back up go-go dancers?” Sherry asked, a bit suspiciously.

“Not at all,” I said. “You guys are used to performing on the football field. I’d imagine you would love to help out people who might be afraid that all the attention would be on them.”

Sherry looked at me warily for a bit, but then softened. “You have a heart of gold, Oogie.”

I gave both June and a surprised Sherry a quick kiss on their cheeks and headed off to my calculus class.

As I hoped, thanks to Roy, word quickly spread about my ideas for the talent show. I had a few people come up to me—people I didn’t really know—and offer me some ideas.

One boy told me that he knew a few magic tricks but was a bit shy about doing the talent show.

Since this wasn’t a musical performance, I was intrigued. I smiled and asked, “What kind of tricks do you know?”

The boy was surprised that I took an interest. “You know, card tricks. I have the three balls trick, and the one with the interlocking rings.”

“Could you use an assistant?”

“Huh?”

“Most magicians have a beautiful assistant to help take the attention off the magician as he does his misdirection.”

“Yeah,” the boy said glumly. “I wish.”

“Do you know Sherry Jordan?”

“The cheerleader?”

“Why don’t you ask her if one of the cheerleaders would be willing to help you out?”

“Sherry would never talk to me!”

Oh, lord. This kid reminded me of myself not so long ago.

I smiled, and said, “I’ll be with June Rodgers and Sherry during lunch. That’s fifth period for me.”

“I know,” the kid said. “I have lunch the same period.”

“Cool,” I said, a bit ashamed that I still didn’t even know the kid’s name. “I’ll introduce you and make the suggestion myself. You’re name is...” I paused, hoping the boy would help me out.

“Doug. Doug Dooley.”

Well, that was an easy name to remember. “Well, Doug, I’ll see you in fifth period, then!”

I left an amazed Doug behind me as I wandered late into band class.

As I entered the lunchroom during fifth period, I spotted Doug and went over to him. “Come sit with me.” I nodded toward the table where I usually sat.

“That’s the cheerleader table,” Doug whispered.

I shrugged. “They love performers. What can I say?”

Doug didn’t seem sure of himself as I led him to the table. I introduced him to Sherry, June, and the other cheerleaders at the table and explained my idea. Sherry and June tried to think of somebody that would be perfect to be an assistant to Doug.

A cheerleader named Becky softly said, “I’d love to help Doug. I’ve always been fascinated by magic.”

Doug was a bit tongue-tied.

I was about to speak for Doug, but Becky turned to Doug and asked, “Do you think you could teach me magic as I learn to be your assistant?”

Doug stammered. “Um... sure... I guess...”

It took a few minutes, but before long, Becky had invited Doug to sit across from her, and the two of them were soon in their own little world within the lunch room. Both Sherry’s and June’s eyes sparkled as they looked at me.

I changed the subject slightly and asked about other ideas for the talent show.

When the period was over, Sherry came over to me. “I think it was nice what you did for Doug.”

“Huh?” I asked. I just helped him get an assistant, after all.

“I’ve never seen you play matchmaker before.”

I laughed. “Me? A matchmaker?”

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” Sherry noted. “Heck, you’re cute all of the time.”

“Aw, shucks, ma’am!” I said with my best Southern accent. I noticed that damned similarity with Mac Davis’ voice once again. Quickly, I switched to my real voice and continued. “Actually, I think Becky did more than I did to get the two of them together.”

“Becky is almost the shyest girl on the squad,” Sherry said. “I thought I was bad! It was unlike her to offer like that.”

“Well, I hope the two of them hit it off.”

I left the lunch room and headed toward Mr. Proilet’s music theory course.

My teacher caught me as I entered the room. “I see you’ve got the rumor mill working full speed. A number of students have already contacted Ms. Kendall about performing.”

I couldn’t help but be pleased. “That’s great. I have some ideas for some surprises, too.”

“Like what?”

“Heck, if I tell people, they won’t be surprises!”

The two of us laughed and Mr. Proilet went to the task of teaching his class.

After June dropped me off at the apartment, I found Kristen sitting alone in the living room.

“Hi, lover boy!”

“What’s up, Kris? Where’s Lynette?”

“Lynette is gossiping with Cammy and Will. I wanted to talk to you alone about your birthday present.”

“I thought you already made plans. This weekend in Chicago, right? Wrigley Field?”

Kristen didn’t immediately answer, but simply looked at me.

I knew something was up. “What’s wrong?”

“Um... nothing is wrong... I... uh...”

I waited for Kristen to find her voice.

Finally, Kristen said, “I’ve decided what to get you for your birthday. I’m going to give you Sherry.”

“What?” I was incredulous! “Whether you’re talking about a cheerleader or a drink, I don’t think that’s very funny, Kris. You know how I feel about both!”

“Come on, Jim. I mean... I know what she wants to do, and I’ve been thinking about it...”

“Kristen, you can’t give me Sherry. You don’t own her!”

“You know what I mean! I’m giving you free rein. I’ll even let you take her to Chicago.”

“No.”

My immediate and negative answer took Kristen by surprise. “No?”

“No. No fucking way, no how. You’re not giving me Sherry. You are not even going to permit me to be with Sherry.”

Kristen wrinkled her brow. “What happened to you? Something about you has changed!”

I thought back on my tantrum in my music studio the previous day and nodded. “I’ve decided to take charge of my life. I’ll deal with the problems that the tickets caused, but I’m no longer going to feel guilty about them, nor will I allow myself to be forced to do something that I don’t want to do.”

Kristen narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

I shrugged. “I’m not going to abuse the tickets anymore. I’m no longer going to live my life apologizing for them, either. They will not control me or my life.”

Kristen didn’t respond, but continued looking at me warily.

My explanation needed elaboration. “Sherry’s current problem has been caused by the tickets, and I will deal with that. It’s just like your addiction being caused by the tickets. We’ll need to work these things out, one by one. I’m just through pulling out my hair because of the damned tickets.”

Kristen shook her head slightly. “What are you saying?”

I sighed. “Kristen, my love... my Goddess... I love you, and the best birthday present I could imagine would be you and me in a hotel in Chicago. You said that you’d like Lynette to join us, and that’s fine. I don’t feel that way about Sherry, and bringing her along with or without the two of you would make me miserable!”

“You mean...?”

“Kristen, you are my love. You can’t give me Sherry; she’s being forced on me. It’s not the same. I said that I’ve given up feeling guilty about the tickets, but throwing Sherry and me together would just start that all right up again. There must be some solution to Sherry’s problem, and I will try my damnedest to fix it, but I’m not going to fix it by sleeping with Sherry on my birthday.”

“I... I didn’t think of it that way.”

I nodded. “I know.” I bent down and kissed this lovely girl of my dreams. “You are all that matters to me. I want you to be happy.”

“You want Lynette to be with us in Chicago?”

“Why not?”

“She’s... I mean...” Once again, Kristen paused. She was at a loss for words.

Softly, I said, “Lynette makes you happy. You make me happy. We all make each other happy.”

Kristen sprang out of her recliner so fast that she caught me by surprise and the two of us went flying onto the shag carpet. “I love you, Oogie!”

“I love you, Goddess!”

Kristen started working on the button on my jeans. “Make love to me!”

We made love.

Lynette walked into the living room as Kristen and I were going at it for the second time. We were in a sixty-nine position this time.

“Get a room, you two!” Lynette said, laughing.

I tried to answer, but Kristen’s pussy muffled me. I happily resumed my task of licking.

For her part, Kristen didn’t let up on her intense sucking, swallowing me deeply.

Lynette walked around us, turned on the television, and curled up on the love seat. I’m not sure she was watching the game show or Kristen and me. It really didn’t matter to us at the time. Lynette saw the two of us many times now, and once more wouldn’t bother us.

I was wrong.

I heard a familiar chuckle, and recognized Camille’s voice. Again, I tried to say something, but Kristen seemed to realize this and ground her crotch tighter against my face.

“You’d think the honeymoon would be over,” Camille said, apparently to Lynette.

“Oh, they fuck like rabbits all the time,” Lynette said.

“Technically, that’s not fucking,” Camille observed.

“Be that as it may,” Lynette replied, “I’d give them a nine point oh for technique, and a perfect ten for enthusiasm.”

“Camille... oh, my!”

The new voice belonged to Will Swift.

“They’re at it again,” Lynette said. “Kristen’s not going to stop until he explodes.”

I was, by now, getting a bit of performance anxiety. My impromptu sex act with Kristen wasn’t intended to become a spectator sport. Lynette was one thing. Camille and Will were completely different.

Will seemed to be the only person that had a sense of propriety. “This isn’t right! Camille, I think you and I should go down to the billiard room.” There was a pause, and Will added emphatically, “Now!”

“Spoil sport!” Camille said, her laugh fading as she left the room.

I heard the television click off, and the door closed a few seconds later.

It was a good thing, too. Kristen’s talented mouth got me close to the boiling point. Within a minute after our guests left, I started pumping my second load of semen into Kristen’s mouth.

Kristen went downstairs to tend our guests after the two of us showered together.

A few minutes later, Camille came up for a visit. I was actually expecting her to show up alone.

“Hi, Jim! I’m sorry about before. I was just teasing, and Lynette seemed so... casual about it. Will told me that you were getting very embarrassed.”

“Well, I don’t usually put on sex shows for my friends,” I replied.

Camille nodded. After about a half minute, she said, “Jim, I was wondering...”

I waited. Camille usually didn’t have difficulty in asking for a favor.

“I’ve been wanting to... you know... do a double with Will. You know... two guys and me. I haven’t done that since last fall.”

I shook my head. “What game are you playing, Camille?”

“Huh?” Camille looked a bit confused.

“Are you still playing the slut game? I would have thought that it would have gotten old by now. You are no more a slut than Will is.”

Camille looked too surprised to answer me.

“Cammy, I’ve seen the way that Will and you look at one another. You stare at one another. It’s exactly the same way that Kristen stares at me, and the way that I probably stare at Kristen. The two of you stare at each other, and neither of you give a shit who sees you doing it.”

“So?”

I sighed. “I’ve seen Will with one of his so-called male friends. I think his name was Robert. Will never looked at him that way. In fact, I think he was bemused with Robert. He even called him a flirt. I think that perhaps Will is only pretending to be a homosexual.”

“Will? Pretending?” Camille sounded incredulous.

“Oh, he’ll go through the motions, but his heart doesn’t seem to be into it. He knows the right things to say, and he even sort of identifies with them. However, something about the way he talks about homosexuality doesn’t seem to be as genuine as when he talks about other things. I realized that after I first met him in Boston. You’re a smart person, Cammy. Do you mean to tell me you didn’t notice this about him?”

Camille looked shocked. “Huh?”

“Should I go on?”

The two of us stared at each other for a few minutes.

I said, softly, “I’ve seen Will look that way with two people. That would be Kristen and you. Kristen is his sister. I know it’s deeper with you, though.”

Suddenly, everything became clear to me. The missing pieces of the puzzle were falling into place and the picture they revealed was amazing.

Camille lowered her eyes. “When did you figure this out?”

“I knew about Will for a while, but I didn’t know about you until yesterday... but most of it came to me just now.”

Camille nodded. “What did you decide about me?”

“You’re not a slut. Maybe you were at one time, but now you are only pretending. From what I think I know about the tickets, I figure that if your sister made you a slut, then you’d have lost that need to be one once I found the tickets. That would have been a year ago. So, you’ve been pretending. Why? I have no idea.”

Suddenly, another thought hit me. “Fuck! Last year, you told Kristen and me on separate occasions that you had a crush on her—I remember it. That was never true, was it?”

Camille was open-mouthed at this.

“Cammy, I was thinking about Lynette yesterday. Lynette and I talk quite a lot. Our favorite topic is Kristen, but we talk about other things. Lynette always said that she had a crush on Kristen. What’s funny is that you used nearly the same words as Lynette, but your actions never matched hers at all. With Lynette, Kristen is her driving focus. I can see that you, on the other hand, were only playing a game with Kristen. I mean, you said you were a slut, so I didn’t look closer. But now...”

Camille still was standing there with her mouth wide open. “But...”

I didn’t let Camille finish. “The big change happened at Kristen’s birthday... when you met Will. You never expected that, did you?”

Camille lowered her eyes again. “No.”

I took a deep breath. There was one other thing that bothered me about Camille, and I figured that it was time to do the experiment.

“Here, Camille,” I said, putting my right hand in my pocket. I pulled out a purple ticket. “Have a ticket.”

Camille’s eyes widened, but she reached out and took the ticket. “You have one wish,” Camille said in a monotone.

“I wish that you will remember what just happened, and realize that the tickets once again work on you.”

“Your wish is my command. HOLY SHIT!” Camille’s face was a mask of horror at the realization that she was once again at the mercy of the tickets.

I shrugged. “Please take care and try not to deceive me again, Camille.” I had delayed this last remark until it was after I made my wish, so that Camille was by no means compelled to obey my request. I already had enough of forcing people to do things with the tickets.

Camille looked aghast at the ticket in her hand. Once again, she was at a loss for words. “How...?”

“It was a hunch—a good one, but it made sense.”

Camille was still staring at the ticket in disbelief. “But... when you handed it to me in the car... and last year... it didn’t work!”

I nodded. “Both times were before I destroyed Tim Hawking’s tickets. I thought something changed. Look at the ticket in your hand.”

Camille furrowed her brow. “What about it?”

“Look at the number.”

The blonde read out, “Two hundred fifty four.”

“I’ve never given out that many. I noticed this when I put them away after using them as a truth serum with Sherry a few days ago.”

“Do you think...”

I shrugged. “My guess is that they combined. The strange thing is that Tim’s tickets didn’t work on you, and my own tickets didn’t work on you... However, now that I have destroyed his, my tickets now seem work on you again.”

“This is weird!”

There was silence for a couple of minutes. Finally, Camille asked, “What do we do now?”

“I want you to love Will. You love him already, so that won’t be a problem. I want you to live your life, but I don’t want you living a lie, and I suspect that you don’t want to live that lie any more. You are not a slut! There’s going to be a big problem if you keep pretending that you’re something that you aren’t. You can tell Will that I think that he’s pretending as well, but I think I know why he does, and I think I even understand it.”

“What about the tickets?”

“They are my problem. I’ll deal with them.”

“But...”

I shook my head with finality. “But nothing, Camille. They are my problem.”

Camille saw the look of determination in my face, and didn’t argue. As with Patty and with Kristen, Camille didn’t seem happy about my decision.

I didn’t care. They were my responsibility after all.

“What did you do to Camille?” Kristen asked me when we were alone.

“I told her the facts of life, Kris.”

“Huh?”

“I told her that she’s in love with your brother. She is, of course, and you know it. However, you were wrong about her. She’s quite willing to give up everybody else for him.”

Kristen shook her head. “I don’t think so... and my brother...”

I interrupted my sweet Goddess. “Your brother loves her, just as much as we love each other. You were wrong about him as well. He’s been looking for Camille all his life. He just doesn’t realize it completely yet. Maybe he’ll get advice from somebody he trusts.”

“Like who?” Kristen asked, apparently wondering if I meant her.

I remembered that Will dreamed of talking with his mother. If Camille tells him what I told her, then it would only be a matter of time before his mother, or whatever part of his brain was responsible for his visions of her, would confirm what I said.

“He’ll find somebody,” I answered cryptically.

Kristen shook her head and shivered a bit. “You are starting to sound a lot like Patty.”

This brought a smile to my lips. “You’re right! I think Patty would probably say the same about the two of them!”

On Tuesday, most of the jazz band showed up for the special practice. Some people had other plans or jobs, and that didn’t worry me very much. I had a good idea already who was dedicated to the band and who was interested in the perceived popularity that being a member of the band could bring to them.

I decided to start by explaining my ideas for the talent show.

“I’d like the band to participate, but not just as a group. Instead, I want us to be an enabler for other people to perform as well.” I recounted my apparent success with Doug Dooley and thought—naive as such a thing could be—that others could achieve similar results. Not every performance had to be musical after all.

I ended with a pep talk. “If you have any ideas, no matter how outrageous, let me know! Let’s make this an event that will be an E-ticket for years to come! We want this to become an event that people will want to come back to, year after year.”

Since this rehearsal was planned at the last minute, I didn’t keep people for the full hour and a half. We let out just shy of an hour, which meant that I would have to wait another forty-five minutes for June to come out from her cheerleader practice.

Since I didn’t have anything to do, I wandered onto the football field, where the marching band was doing some drills. They were focusing on marching and patterns, but occasionally played their tunes.

I ended up spending my time in the bleachers watching the marching band. When they played, I would notice how the acoustics of the outdoor setting modified how the sound would reach the audience. I was surprised to see a person actually playing the flute... there was no way that the soft tones of that instrument would ever make it through the morass of sound from the brass instruments to the ears of the people in the bleachers.

After more than a half hour, Mr. Harris, the newly hired marching drill instructor, saw me in the bleachers and came to visit me.

“Ah, Mr. Crittenhouse. Have you reconsidered the marching band?”

I laughed. “I have enough stuff on my plate right now, sir.” I waved toward the band. “I was noticing how different the acoustics are out here compared to how the band sounds in the auditorium.”

Roger Harris gave me a surprised look. “That would be a given.”

I didn’t want to sound like a show off, so I didn’t make any critique of what I saw and especially heard. I instead allowed the marching instructor to talk.

Mr. Harris liked talking about his work. “I’m giving them some traditional marching tunes,” Roger explained. “These are easy to learn, and they can then focus on their drills. Next year, however, we can work on more complicated things.”

“The drills were never interesting to me,” I admitted.

“Ah, but they make the people who watch them interested!”

“I heard that the band will be getting new uniforms this year.”

“Yes, and you know who donated the money that made that possible, Jim.”

I nodded. “They’ll still be blue and yellow. The hats will have two different... what do you call them?”

“The colors are blue and gold,” Mr. Harris corrected. “The hats have plumes.”

“Yeah.”

I saw June walking toward me, and I was sorry that I didn’t have more time to talk with Mr. Harris. He really was a likable person once you got to talk to him about things that really were important to him.

I turned to the teacher. “Have you ever considered doing things... well... differently?”

“This season is going to be different from last year,” Mr. Harris answered. He narrowed his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

My mind conjured up an image in my mind, but I figured that the teacher would really think I was bonkers if I explained it to him. “Oh... I was watching and thought some crazy thoughts.”

“Like what?”

I noticed that the teacher was really interested in my opinion. “Well, here’s something obvious. You don’t have singers!”

Mr. Harris laughed. “Voices would never carry!”

“Hmm. You’re probably right.” I most certainly did not mention that I felt the same about the flute players.

June joined us. She heard my last remark, and frowned at Mr. Harris. The teacher, on the other hand, didn’t really know me that well, and didn’t know that I used that expression when I felt that somebody—usually an adult—didn’t get what I was telling them.

The two of us bade Mr. Harris good-bye, and June led me toward her car.

When we were out of earshot, June asked the question. “What didn’t he understand?”

“I heard the band play a song that I’ve always loved. I was thinking about maybe doing it radically different, but I guess my idea is really way out there. I feel he’s wrong about some of the instruments, though.”

June was silent the rest of the way to her car. After we backed out of the parking spot and were on the road toward the apartment, June finally said, “I know you, Jim. You’ll get him to see things your way, even if you have to bring the entire marching band into the talent show to prove it!”

That comment put a lot of images into my head. I started laughing out loud. “You know, June... that’s a great idea!”

On Wednesday, I saw Megan Gallagher in the hallway. She was one of the best flute players that I ever heard in person.

“Megan?” I said as I approached her. “Do you have a second?”

“What’s up, Jim?”

“Do you play piccolo?”

Megan looked at me strangely. “Most anybody that plays the flute can play the piccolo. Why do you ask?”

“I have a song that I’d like you to play in the talent show.”

“The piccolo? That’s too harsh for a solo.”

I gave Megan the flute part of a song I heard the marching band play. “The part is actually for a piccolo. See?”

Megan scanned the music and furrowed her brow. “Wow! This is a piccolo feature, isn’t it?”

I told Megan my idea for the talent show and she laughed heartily. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Oh, it’s just the kind of weird thing that I think about.”

Megan continued smiling. “I’d be happy to do this. I have a piccolo at home.”

“I’ll borrow some from Mr. Proilet.”

“Borrow?” Megan asked.

My only answer was a smile.

The bell rang, indicating that the two of us were late for class. We bade farewell and went our separate ways.

Thursday, the eleventh, was my birthday. I woke up that morning receiving one of June’s mind melting blow jobs.

I sighed, and smiled remembering my favorite line during one of June’s B.J.s a couple of months earlier: “What a way to die!” I made sure that I didn’t utter that line this morning, remembering June’s coughing reaction as she started to laugh while sucking me deep.

Despite the fact that June was busy, my mind registered the fact that I was alone in the master bedroom with June, and I asked, “Where are Kristen and Lynette?”

June, who was situated between my legs with my cock in her throat, simply looked up into my eyes, with a glance that plainly asked, “Do you really expect me to answer you with this monster in my throat?”

June continued her work. All too soon, I started feeling my balls churn. My release was imminent. I went to move my hands onto June’s head, but I found to my surprise that my wrists were bound. I looked from right to left and saw that some red knitting yarn was loosely tied around my wrists and fastened to the bed. It wouldn’t take a lot of effort to break from my restraint, but the fact that it was there told me that I wasn’t to move, so I didn’t.

June sensed my impending release, and simply pulled her head up, releasing my dick entirely. “Happy birthday, Oogie!” she said, giggling.

I watched in stunned silence as June hopped off the bed and out of the bedroom entirely.

I looked at my erection, which was wet and red and demanding attention.

As if on cue, Lynette came into the room, dressed in one of Kristen’s expensive lingerie outfits consisting of a pair of white panties that looked almost like a thin horizontal line around her hips coming to a “T” at her crotch, and a nearly transparent white camisole on top. Neither piece of lingerie hid any erogenous zone on Lynette.

“Birthday boy is awake, Mistress!” Lynette announced. She gave me a beautiful smile, and moved slowly toward my aching member. With a surprisingly high voice, Lynette squealed, “Hmm, Oogie looks excited!”

Just as Lynette’s hands were about to touch my throbbing cock, they suddenly pulled away as I heard a SLAP that surprised the hell out of me.

Looking up, I saw Lynette rubbing her scantily covered ass and Kristen holding a leather riding crop in her hands. I realized that Kristen just whipped Lynette!

Lynette didn’t seem upset, although I could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes from the obvious pain that Kristen’s spanking gave her.

“No touching!” Kristen hissed.

Kristen was wearing a pair of black leather panties and a matching corset, a black eye mask, and what appeared to be a black leather beret. She almost looked as if she were a female biker!

“Yes, Mistress!” Lynette said, her still-wet eyes staring at me and expressing her apology for not being able to attend to my needs.

“June, report back here at once!” Kristen barked.

June hopped back into the room, still naked. “Yes, Mistress?”

Mistress? Since when did June revert to her “slave” persona?

“You’ve left my boyfriend in a bit of a fix. Look at him!”

“He looks hard,” June said, grinning.

“And you are responsible!” Kristen brandished her riding crop in her hands.

For an awful moment, I thought Kristen would spank June. I couldn’t allow that. “No, Kris!”

“Shut up!” Kristen snapped at me as she waved her crop before my eyes.

I instinctively flinched, but Kristen already turned back to June. There was menace in her eyes.

“Do you want me to finish him off?” June asked, meekly.

I noticed now that June’s voice sounded a bit funny, almost as if she was a little girl. June was obviously playing a game with Kristen! I breathed in, not realizing that I was holding my breath as this scene was playing out.

“No, slave!” Kristen said. “I want you to get him excited without touching him.”

Lynette pointed out, “He’s already excited.”

“You shut up, too, Bitch!” Kristen barked. Once again, she raised the crop into the air menacingly.

Kristen was taking her “Mistress” role very seriously. This was the first time I heard her call Lynette anything worse than “Slut.”

Lynette lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

Kristen turned to June. “I want the two of you to put on a show for us. Let’s see if you have it in you to get Jim off.”

Immediately, June and Lynette approached each other. I watched, amazed, as Lynette bent down to kiss June tenderly on the lips.

Kristen sat on the bed next to me as the two of us watched Lynette and June kiss each other deeply.

“Excited?” Kristen whispered to me.

“Not really,” I admitted. “June’s not really into this scene.”

“This whole scene was her idea. This is her idea of a birthday present.”

“What’s with the whip?”

“It’s a new toy for Lynette,” Kristen whispered, smiling.

“She looked as if you hurt her.”

Kristen shrugged. “The pain has probably gone.”

While Kristen and I were whispering, the two girls were still kissing. I could see that tongues were being exchanged between the two girls.

If June was pretending that she was having fun, it was a damned great performance!

Lynette’s hand started fondling June’s breast, and June’s hand quickly followed.

I watched in awe as the two girls got into their playing. I have seen Lynette doing this with Kristen quite often, but this was the first time that I saw June actively touching another woman sexually. This made the scene even more erotic for me.

“I can see you’re impressed,” Kristen whispered, stroking my turgid erection very lightly. I moved my hips up to get her to stroke me harder, but Kristen pulled her hand away playfully. “Uh, uh,” Kristen whispered, shaking her head. “This is June’s scene for you.”

Groaning in frustration, I saw Lynette was now bending even lower and was now starting to suck on June’s breast. Her hand already moved to June’s crotch.

There was a look of ecstasy on June’s face as Lynette’s talented fingers went to work. June’s eyes were clenched together, and her face was a mask of joy.

Lynette started driving June toward an orgasm. I knew from months’ experience that June got very vocal when this happened.

As if on cue, June started to whimper. “Fuck, Lynette!”

Once more, I felt Kristen briefly stroke my erection. My body was going crazy. I didn’t know how much more of this I could stand.

As I watched the two girls fondle each other, and heard June’s quickly deteriorating shouts of profanity, I found my hips moving up and down, seemingly on their own volition. I could see June’s obvious excitement at what Lynette was doing to her. Kristen once again ran her hand quickly and lightly on the outside of my erection, although she didn’t do anything like jack me off.

One more time, Kristen’s hand brushed lightly on the bottom of my dick, rubbing ever so slightly at the junction where the head meets the shaft. For some reason, this triggered my release.

As Kristen’s hand pulled quickly away, jets of my semen started to shoot out.

One of the streams managed to actually hit Kristen on the chin, which I think surprised her. Most of the rest, however, ended up on my legs and my stomach, although a few strands were on the bed sheets.

I looked at June and Lynette, and June was staring at me with a big smile on her face. “I did it! I did it!”

Lynette smiled at June. “Yes, you did, honey.”

“Come over here, June,” Kristen said, inviting June to our bed. “You did this to him, you get to clean him up!”

“By myself?” June asked in awe.

Kristen smiled at the small, black cheerleader. “Sure thing!”

Now this was an interesting turn of events. Kristen was usually greedy with the output of my dick, mostly because of her ticket-induced need for my sperm.

“Goody, goody!” June said, giggling. She moved onto the bed and started to lick up the remnants of my ejaculate.

Kristen quietly left the bed, and I saw Lynette quietly lick up the bit of semen that was still on Kristen’s chin and then feed it back to Kristen.

I smiled, realizing that June wasn’t aware that this just happened.

June made quick work of the mess on my legs and stomach, and ended up rubbing her breasts against my side as she kissed me. “I love you, Oogie! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, June!” I said, truly thankful.

Breakfast consisted of blueberry pancakes, made by June.

I couldn’t think of a better way to start a birthday.

I was greeted by “Happy birthday, Oogie!” by a few people when I got to school that day. The odd part was that I didn’t know some of the people who said it. I knew that I was sort of a minor celebrity at the school, but how did people know it was my birthday?

June, who was with me, didn’t seem surprised by this.

“Who was that?” I asked June when a girl I never met wished me a happy birthday.

June shrugged. “Beats me.”

“How does she know it’s my birthday?”

June finally smiled. “I guess you’re popular, Oogie!”

When I walked into class at third period, everybody in the band room got up and said, at once, “Happy birthday, Oogie!”

Now I knew there was a plot. I loved it!

During lunch, almost everybody in the room came up to the cheerleader table where I was sitting and said the same thing to me. I started to take it in stride.

After a couple of dozen well wishers, however, I decided to try to strike up conversations with the people who were wishing me a happy birthday.

“Thank you,” I said to a girl that I recognized was in Merry’s grade. “And what’s your name?”

The girl was taken aback. “Um... Heather.”

“Well, thank you, Heather! I really appreciate it.”

June giggled as I turned the situation around.

After Heather, I made it a point to learn everybody’s name. I probably wouldn’t remember their names for long; I was terrible at remembering names and faces. However, I was no longer feeling embarrassed.

One thing that I noticed, was that Sherry looked distracted.

“What’s up, Sherry?” I asked, a bit concerned.

“Um... nothing.” Sherry’s demeanor completely changed as she smiled.

A male voice distracted me. “Happy birthday, Oogie!”

I recognized that voice, and when I turned, I knew I was right. “Thank you, Doug. How’s it going with Becky?”

I turned and noticed that Becky wasn’t at our table, but then saw that she was not far behind Doug.

“It’s going great! Thanks for everything!”

Becky finally caught up with Doug. “Hi, Becky!” I said before she could wish me a happy birthday.

Becky reddened a bit. “Hi, Oogie. Um...”

I considered waiting, remembering that Sherry said that Becky was shy. However, I figured that would only put the spotlight on her. “Is Doug teaching you magic?”

“Um... yes!”

“That’s great. I’m glad the two of you are hitting it off.”

“Yeah... thanks,” Beck said, looking at Doug. Finally, she managed to say, “Happy birthday, Oogie!”

I laughed. “Thanks, Becky!”

I thought I just about got over the embarrassment of just about the entire school wishing me a happy birthday, when Mr. Yank, the school principal stopped me in the hallway.

“Mr. Crittenhouse!”

“Yes?” I said, a bit surprised.

“Happy birthday... Oogie, isn’t it?”

“Um, yes. That’s what people call me.”

“I think Jean Proilet said that nickname came from a song you recorded for Ms. Swift.”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “First day of school last year.”

“I saw her around the campus today. Jean says that she’s doing a great job helping out in the music department.”

“I guess.” I nodded.

“Well, we all appreciate what the two of you are doing for the morale of the school. The two of you are exactly what we are looking for as role models for our students. You should be proud.”

For some reason, the image of a naked Kristen giving me a blow job in an empty music room last year came immediately to mind. Some role model we were!

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to let that vision fluster me. “I hope you come to the talent show in a few weeks.”

“Are you performing?”

I shook my head. “Not directly. Some of my friends are going to help a lot of people throw on a bitchin’... um... sorry... a great show!”

I reddened as I realized what I said.

“Well, if it promises to be a ‘bitchin’ show,’ as you say, then I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Mr. Yank smiled at me, his eyes sparkling.

“Um, thanks, Mr. Yank. I need to get to class!”

“OK. Bye.”

After school let out, I found Sherry as she was just entering the girls’ locker room. “Sherry?”

Sherry didn’t seem to hear me and went inside.

I glanced at the door. I remember Jackie telling me that I was always welcome in that room, but I knew for a fact that right now, some of the girls were getting dressed.

However, I still needed to speak to Sherry.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.

I saw about a half dozen girls on a bench. One of them wasn’t wearing a shirt, and had only a bra covering her chest. There was another one with a cheerleader top on who was pulling up her yellow panty bottoms.

The girls saw me, but didn’t scream—or even hide!

Instead, the girls said, one by one, “Happy birthday, Oogie!”

I sighed and turned to see Sherry looking at me. She was fully dressed in her school clothes. “Were you looking for me?” She had that distracted look in her eyes again.

“Yeah. I was going to ask you...” I finally got embarrassed at being in the locker room as girls were continuing to casually get dressed. “Can we go outside?”

“Um... sure, Jim.”

Sherry and I went out of the room back in the hall. A couple of cheerleaders passed us without comment.

“Was this ‘happy birthday’ thing your idea?”

Once again, I saw Sherry’s face completely change. She nodded and grinned. “We—the cheerleaders—all decided to do it. You’re not angry, are you?”

“How did you get Mr. Yank in on this?”

“Mr. Yank?”

“He stopped me in the hall and said, ‘Happy birthday, Oogie!’”

“He did?” Sherry was genuinely surprised. “How cool is that?”

I sighed. “Well, thanks. I need to get to rehearsal.”

Sherry stared at me as I walked away.

In the music room, the band was waiting for me.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OOGIE!” they all shouted, including the two music teachers who were at the back of the room.

“Great one, guys!” I said, smiling. “Now, let’s get to the business at hand. I’ve been working on some songs for the Christmas concert...”

A sophomore trombone player named Frank Rizzo looked confused. I knew him from junior high, and he was quite talented. Frank asked, “We’re not planning the talent show?”

“No,” I said. “That’s not our event. It’s being run by the chorus under Ms. Kendall’s supervision. If somebody needs the entire band to help out for a particular performance, have them let us know and I’ll make sure we have people that can help out. I was thinking that most people will just need one, two, or maybe four people to accompany them—not the entire band. The talent show is voluntary, and is not intended to be a feature for the band. It’s our way of giving back to the music department all the support they give us throughout the year. The chorus can use the money, since they have been invited to a performance in Chicago before New Year’s. We’re going to help them get there without having the students spend their own money.”

There was some general murmuring throughout the room at my answer, but the tittering went down after about a minute.

The rehearsal went well, and the band didn’t seem to have much problem with the new songs I worked on over the summer. After all, most of the songs were recognizable Christmas tunes.

One of the songs was different. People recognized the tune, but even Roy, who sang lead on it, didn’t know where it was from. After the first run-through, Roy asked the question. “OK. I’ve heard this before, but this is really a blues number. Where does Christmas Time Is Here come from?”

“Does anybody know?” I asked. I specifically turned to where Amy was sitting.

Amy shyly raised her hand. “From the Charlie Brown Christmas special?”

“Right,” I said, smiling.

There was some murmuring as people recognized the scene of Charlie Brown picking out the mangiest tree in the lot, and the raw emotion that the song invoked.

I noticed that Kristen was once again working with Tina, and during that song, I heard the young girl play for the first time. She played very well, and had a pretty good grasp of the blues, quite unlike Amy last year. If there was a problem, it was that she didn’t seem comfortable with the electronic keyboard that she was using. I saw her hitting the keys a bit too hard, but also saw Kristen helping her out there, so I didn’t mention anything to avoid embarrassing her.

I let the band out fifteen minutes early, since the rehearsal went so well. I asked a few people to stick around afterward as a favor.

When we were mostly alone, I had Frank Rizzo, James Gripper, Amy Grant, and Steve Rivera standing around me.

Frank Rizzo was a hotshot trombone player who I remembered when I was in junior high. He really enjoyed playing his horn, and always played first position. James Gripper was a senior who played trumpet very well, and didn’t have time for the jazz band last year for some reason. Amy Grant played piano, of course, and Steve Rivera was a junior who played drums and percussion.

“What did you want to see us about?”

“A rock band,” I answered. “I figure I can get Kristen to play bass, and Gerry Pembroke from last year to play guitar. He had a band last year but they broke up.”

“So this is outside the jazz band,” James said.

“Exactly,” I said, nodding. “I’ve told some people that I’m interested in doing a gig at Puppy Dawg’s. Gerry Pembroke can get us an audition, and I think that Kristen and he would make a killer guitar section.”

“I’m cool with it,” Frank said, “as long as I get some solos.”

“No problem with that,” I said, smiling. I had anticipated Frank’s request.

Amy smiled at me, but didn’t answer.

“A rock band,” James said, his eyes getting misty. “Could we play some Chicago tunes?”

“Sure,” I said, assuring the trumpet player. “Blood Sweat and Tears as well. Also dance music.”

“Not disco!” Frank cried, touching the back of his right hand to his forehead as if he were about to faint.

“Of course not,” I said, laughing. “I just don’t want to limit ourselves. When Kris and I played in Lafayette, we did a lot of Sinatra tunes, bosa-nova... things you might think of as old fashioned, but the songs have great melodies. We also played some Elton John and even a Beatles tune. I think we should also add some classic jazz tunes such as those sung by Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie, and so on. That way, we don’t shoe-horn ourselves into any single genre.”

We continued discussing ideas, and even Amy started to offer some suggestions.

“I’d love to perform, but I think you can play the piano much better than me,” Amy said.

“I’d like to help out on trumpet or any of the other instruments occasionally. I need a dedicated keyboardist.”

Amy looked confused. “Keyboardist?”

“Don’t limit yourself to piano. Kris is getting your sister up to speed on the electric. There’s organ, and I saw some bitchin’ equipment at my birthday party last weekend!”

“If you think so.” Amy looked doubtful.

Kristen had come up behind Amy as I said that. “I think you’d be wonderful in such a band, Amy.”

Amy didn’t answer, but shrugged.

I got tentative OK’s from the people that I asked, and I realized that I would have to start putting together some realistic arrangements soon. It was one thing for me to do an impromptu lounge act with a gifted improvisational trumpeter such as Archy; these other people would require music and practice, despite their talents.

Tina was still sitting at the keyboard after I left the group, and I went over to see her. I was careful; if she looked as if she was going to run away, I’d walk away quickly.

Tina seemed just a little less shy than the last time I saw her. She saw me come, and even nodded at me.

“That was a great rehearsal... can I call you Oogie?”

“Sure thing, Tina!”

“Happy birthday, Oogie!” Tina’s face lit up as she smiled at me.

“Thank you. You played pretty well, Tina,” I said.

“Amy and Kris have been teaching me the styles you play.”

“You’re picking them up fast.”

Amy and Kristen came up behind me. Tina saw them approach.

“Thank you. Amy surprised Mom last year when she played that Charlie Brown song at home.”

“Which one? Linus and Lucy?”

Tina nodded. “She taught it to me, you know.” She started playing it on the electric piano.

“That’s great,” I said, smiling.

Amy approached her sister. “We need to get home, Tina.”

“Sure thing.”

The two girls said good-bye, and left Kristen and me alone.

I nodded in the direction where Tina and Amy were leaving. “Both girls are very talented.”

Kristen nodded in agreement. “Their father was a musician in college, but now helps do the weather forecast at a T.V. station in Chicago. I think they get their talent from him.”

“Hmm,” I said. I heard many similar stories from others before, albeit not being a weather man. “Why does nearly everybody who studies music quit? It can’t just be about the money.”

“Money is important to people ready to raise a family,” Kristen said. “Also, they don’t really quit. They just realize that they can’t make a living at it. The Chicago Symphony has a lot of people in it that thought they were the best people that ever picked up an instrument... until they met the others in the Symphony. For each opening, there are hundreds, maybe thousands, of people trying to audition.”

I wasn’t sure if I agreed with Kristen. “If you say so...”

“Look in the Help Wanted section in the paper some day. How many jobs do you see for a clarinet player?”

“Do you think I’m doomed to failure, Kris?”

Kristen shook her head adamantly. “No, Jim. You’re very different. I’ve heard people call you a child prodigy, but they’re wrong. You have a unique approach to music. I can’t put it into words...”

“He feels music,” Mr. Proilet offered, overhearing our conversation. “He can see the entire musical score without even glancing at the music. He has nearly perfect pitch, and the ability to separate music into separate parts. He can listen to Blood Sweat and Tears on the radio, and easily write down any of the parts immediately afterward. Add to all that the fact that he also works harder than any other musician that I’ve ever met. Hard work, talent, spirit, and ability... it’s a tough combination to beat.”

I sighed. “I’m not perfect.”

“No, you’re definitely not perfect,” Kristen said. “But you’re mine.”

I smiled.

The two of us bade farewell to my music teachers, and headed out of the school.

As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t like people telling me how good I am. I decided to change the subject.

“So, what does Happy Birthday Oogie need to do tonight?” I asked.

“Hey!” Kristen protested. “That wasn’t my idea! I think it was June’s.”

“June? I thought it was Sherry’s idea.”

Kristen shrugged. “I heard it from June.”

“What’s happening tonight?” I repeated.

“Oh, you’ll see!”

In the parking lot, June and Sherry were both out there with a couple of other cheerleaders, and the two of us went over to where they were.

As we approached, Sherry started walking quickly toward us. “Jim? Can I see you for a few moments?”

“Sure, Sherry.”

I let Sherry lead me back toward the school entrance. “What’s up?”

Sherry’s voice was quiet. “It’s been bad all day.”

I knew that Sherry looked strange earlier. “What’s been bad?”

“I feel... you know...”

Oh, shit. “Yeah, I know.”

“What should I do?” Sherry asked.

“Why don’t you meet me tomorrow in the music room? Fifth period.”

“Lunch?”

“Sure. Ask Mr. Proilet for a hall pass tomorrow morning. Tell him that we’re working on something for the talent show.”

Sherry nodded.

I pulled Sherry closer to me and hugged her. “It will be all right, Sherry.”

Sherry didn’t answer, but I could feel her body shivering next to mine.

Oh, yeah. I wasn’t going to feel like a rapist any more. That lasted what... a whole fucking day? Two days?

Happy birthday, Oogie.