The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There was a football game Friday evening, and it would be Merry’s first as a cheerleader. When school let out, I found Kristen in the parking lot, ready to take me home.

“The game starts in just two hours,” I said, protesting slightly.

“I know,” Kristen answered. “I told Lynette that the two of us will pick up some pizzas for the cheerleaders. They have a special practice today, and the game follows right afterward. I figured that we could pick some up from Roman’s.”

This was an excellent idea! “Oh, yeah! Patty’s working today! Are our bags packed?”

“I’ve already brought them to the air field and Uncle Jerry has them stowed.”

“I thought we were driving.”

“What’s the use in having a pilot around if you don’t use him?”

“He’s not your personal pilot, Kris.”

“Not yet.”

I looked at Kristen and saw a sparkle in her eye. She was just kidding with me.

“Having Uncle Jerry take us gives us more time in Chicago, honey. Believe me, he really enjoys flying. I have a hard time paying him as it is—he just wants money for gas!”

“All right.”

At Roman’s, Kristen put in an order for ten pizzas. We figured that most of them would be eaten, and anything left over could be given to the concession stands to sell during the game.

Patty came over to where we were waiting from behind the counter. “So, Jim, how was the birthday?”

“It was nice. Kris and Lynette got me a couple of new hats.”

Patty looked confused. “Hats?”

“Porkpie hats, right Kris?”

Kristen nodded. “We got them from Sky Catchers.”

“I’ve never shopped there,” Patty said. “The stuff in their windows looks weird.”

“I’ll say,” I agreed. “They sell safari helmets, World War One fighter ace helmets, and everything.”

“Sounds as if it would be useful if you were going on safari—or perhaps helping Snoopy shoot down the Red Baron, huh?”

I smiled.

Kristen got up to use the ladies’ room.

When Kristen left, Patty looked at me seriously. “So, what’s really up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something happened in the last couple of days.”

Patty was about as close to a mind reader that I’ve ever met. “I’ve tackled some problems.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe some other time. I’m still working them out myself.”

“Well, remember that you always have friends, Jim. You don’t have to solve the entire world’s problems, you know.”

“Thanks, Patty. I’ll remember that.”

I realized that keeping secrets from Kristen was going to be hard, but keeping them from Patty would be next to impossible.

Before the game started, the cheerleaders came onto the field from both sides. Sherry took a running start and flipped end over end for about half the field, finishing on a flip that was a complete somersault in the air. After Sherry finished, two other cheerleaders did a double end over end, and I was surprised afterward when I realized that one of these was Merry.

Kristen, Lynette, and I sat in the stands with my parents. Roy Fennel was sitting next to me on the other side from Kristen.

“Merry seems quite good,” I said, impressed.

“Your sister works hard,” Lynette commented, watching the cheerleaders like a hawk. She had a little memo book and a pencil and it looked as if she was taking notes.

“I never knew she could do those flips,” my step-father commented.

“Merry’s almost got her aerial working,” Lynette said without looking up from her memo book. “She’s not ready to perform it, yet, but she’s getting there.”

I was confused. “What’s an aerial?”

Lynette didn’t move her eyes from the cheerleaders and her memo book, but continued to talk. “An aerial is what Sherry did at the end of her routine. That’s the flip where she went completely around without her hands touching the ground. Merry is still working on that. Ms. D. doesn’t allow any girls to perform such a move during a game until they show real proficiency. An aerial looks impressive, but if a girl misses it, it makes the whole team look silly. Merry’s getting there, but she’s not quite there yet.”

“Ah,” said my step-father.

The marching band played the national anthem, and then sat in the stands, occasionally playing some uncoordinated music. I wondered what I could do to help the band sound better. Despite the fact that I wasn’t in the marching band, they were still representing my school, and anything I could do to help out would help out the school.

The cheerleaders did a pep number featuring a few girls—including Merry—ending up in a side-split, with the rest of the girls standing behind them. All the cheerleaders held their pom-poms in their hands. I was actually proud of my sister.

At half time, the marching band did their show. I saw most of the band’s moves that one time I was hanging out in the stands, and once again, I noticed that the balance of the music, as heard in the stands, could be improved. The patterns they did were slightly different from when I saw them before, though, and the effect was a bit better in terms of hearing the band, but I still thought something could be done to improve them. Unfortunately, I wasn’t an expert on marching bands—we’d probably have to rely on Roger Harris’ expertise.

The football team won, which brought up our spirits at the end of the game. The cheerleaders performed their drills pretty nicely as well.

Merry came running out to where all of us were standing after the game carrying her athletic bag. She was now wearing her “street clothes.” Sherry wasn’t far behind her.

After the game, we met at Vaughn’s for the second night in a row, except that Roy Fennel and Sherry Jordan accompanied us.

“Well, if it isn’t the birthday boy!” the waitress said, smiling as she recognized me from the previous night.

I reddened in response, and most everybody laughed, with the exception of Roy and Sherry. Merry delighted in telling them about how everybody in Vaughn’s surprised me last night.

Sherry smiled. “The cheerleaders did something similar to that to Oogie yesterday as well.” She went on to describe to my parents what happened yesterday, and even admitted to setting the whole thing up.

“It seems my boy is quite popular at school,” my mother said proudly.

“Jim’s a wonderful person, Mrs. Cummings,” Sherry said, smiling at me. “In the last year or so, he’s reached out and helped quite a lot of people. He’s kind and caring, and seems to be willing to help out anybody who has a problem. He has the music department put on some really great shows, and he’s right now assisting people who want to perform in the talent show.”

Mom turned to Roy and said, “Jim said you’d be doing a duet of a Chopin piece with Amy Grant.”

Roy didn’t realize it was a Chopin song, actually. He looked at me, and I nodded slightly. “Yes, ma’am. Amy Grant and I will be doing a number together.”

I think my mother caught the look between the two of us, but didn’t press the issue. Instead she steered the conversation away from me and toward Roy and then Merry.

It was Merry who first spoke up. “Mom, Roy and I have just been talking to one another at school. It’s not as if we’re going out on dates.”

Merry’s father picked up on that. “My dear, you’re only fifteen years old!”

“I’m going to be sixteen in a couple of weeks!”

The conversation turned uncomfortable, but the waitress showed up with the food at that moment.

We ate in an uneasy silence.

After about five minutes, Lynette broke the silence. “Merry, did Mrs. D. tell you when you’d be able to do the aerial during a performance?”

Merry shrugged. “Maybe in a couple of weeks.”

“The weekend after this, let’s work on them together at the park, if the weather permits. Sherry, would you be able to help out? It would be best if there was more than one spotter.”

Sherry nodded, happy that there was conversation once again. “Sure, Lynette. Merry’s pretty close to getting it.”

The conversation now turned toward the cheerleaders’ performance and other things.

When the meal was done, Kristen picked up the tab. My parents were used to her doing this and didn’t make a big fuss. I knew that Merry was going to have to have a long conversation with our parents. I only wished I could be around to give her some support. However, my behavior at her age was bound to come up during these conversations, and it would probably be for the best if I wasn’t there. If she needed any help, I knew that she’d find me in school and talk to me on Monday.

Lynette drove Roy and Sherry home, and then met Kristen and me at the air field. Uncle Jerry picked us up and we took our first night flight into Chicago.

The trip was quiet, and it was obvious that Kristen, Lynette, and I were all thinking about Merry and my parents. Uncle Jerry noticed our mood and we traveled in peace.

We stayed at the same hotel we did last year on my sixteenth birthday. However, this year, we got a different room which was a two bedroom suite, rather than the one bedroom suite we used last year.

It was nearly midnight when we got to the hotel. Lynette emptied our suitcases, and Kristen took a hot bath. I debated my options, and when Lynette finished unpacking, I suggested that she keep Kristen company.

Lynette asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’m tired. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and we have a game to go to tomorrow.”

Lynette simply nodded and went into the bathroom. I heard the two girls whispering, but I ignored them. There was a late movie showing on one of the television stations, and I turned off the lights in the bedroom.

I was still awake when the girls came out of the bathroom, both wearing towels. I pretended to be asleep, and neither girl bothered me.

I was in a better mood when I woke up the next morning. Kristen and Lynette were still asleep on either side of me. I needed to go to the bathroom, so I slipped out of the bed as carefully as I could so as not to wake up the two of them. As I moved out of the bed, the two girls seemed to roll toward one another, as if to make up for my now-empty spot.

At the foot of the bed, I stared at the two ladies. They looked so peaceful as they slept. I realized that the reason we were here in Chicago was to celebrate my birthday, and that I did the two women a disservice by being moody all night.

“I love you,” I murmured to the two of them, meaning it to both of them.

Kristen’s eyes opened quickly, and she mouthed the same words back to me before moving even closer to Lynette.

Satisfied, I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and got cleaned up for a day in Chicago.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I saw a naked Kristen standing outside the door. Without a word, she descended to her knees, took my dick in her mouth, and started sucking.

I’ve had my dick sucked in many ways by a few girls. The last person to suck me on her knees was June, who likes doing it that particular way. However, this was one of the first times Kristen ever sucked me like this. It was totally unlike her, as if she thought being on her knees made her somehow subservient to me. The fact that she did so this morning was quite noticeable, and my dick reacted by swelling even more than normal in her warm, moist cavity.

Kristen’s hands held my ass cheeks, and she would pull me closer and push me away from her mouth. Inside her mouth, her tongue was moving all over the tip and the shaft, sending waves of pleasure through my body.

When I felt two lips on my mouth, I opened my eyes in surprise. Lynette was standing alongside Kristen, and she kissed me. I returned her kiss as Kristen kept up her relentless stimulation.

Lynette moved down until she was on her knees to the left of Kristen. As if on cue, Kristen moved her mouth off my erection and started kissing the side closest to her. Lynette kissed the other side, and soon I was getting a double blow job from the two blondes.

Every thirty seconds or so, one of the girls would move from the side and start sucking lightly on the tip, adding to my excitement.

I put a hand around each girl’s head as they continued alternating their sucking on me. When I could take no more, the girls seemed to sense it and Lynette positioned herself on the end and started sucking harder than ever. I erupted about three times into Lynette’s mouth, and she continued sucking as my dick continued to spasm afterward.

When my dick started to soften, Lynette turned to Kristen, and pulled her up as Lynette started to stand. The two girls kissed right in front of me, sharing my seed between them.

Once the girls’ erotic display finished, they each kissed me on the cheek and left for the bathroom, closing the door behind them.

I went to the bed and found that the girls (Kristen, most likely) picked out an outfit for me to wear.

The girls came out of the bathroom about ten minutes later, both of them still nude, and went into one of the dresser drawers to pick out their outfits. Kristen picked out a purple sun dress and a matching pair of panties, and pulled them on her quickly. Lynette wore the exact same dress and panties, except hers were pink. Neither girl wore a bra. In the closet, Lynette took out two pairs of sandals, one purple and one pink.

“Time to eat breakfast, Jim!” Kristen said.

“Like that?” I said. If you looked, you could clearly see Kristen’s dark aureoles through the light purple material of her sun dress.

“Of course.”

I shrugged, and the three of us left the room and took the elevator to the lobby.

We ate breakfast at the dining room at the hotel. We all ordered omelets, and the two girls ordered Champagne and orange juice (mimosas), while I drank sweet tea.

At around noon, Kristen took us for a tour of Chicago in her rental car. She pointed out the Berghoff restaurant, where we ate last January.

Lynette smiled. “My Nana took me there a long time ago. The food is great there.”

Eventually, we ended up at the world-famous Wrigley Field. I wasn’t a big Cubs fan, but Kristen and her father definitely were. In fact, if you were to ask me to name a current Chicago player, I would name Bucky Dent, who played at Commiskey Field for the White Sox!

As I said, Kristen was a Cubs fan, and she explained her interest much the same way a Boston fan would explain their fondness for the Red Sox. The big difference was that the Red Sox wasn’t an underdog team this year.

“Despite the fact that we’re over six games behind the Phillies,” Kristen explained, “we’ve been winning against them this year. I don’t think we have a chance in hell to catch Cincinnati for the playoffs, especially this late in the season, but just think: The Red Sox are leading their division, so I think they’re four games behind Oakland in their League. They have Fisk and Yaz, and they look good to win the AL series. If Cincinnati doesn’t break down, it will be the Reds against the Sox, and the Reds have Rose, Bench, Morgan, and Griffey. Despite the fact that I love Pete Rose, my prediction is that the Sox will take the AL series and finally win the world series this year for the first time in nearly sixty years!”

I could tell that Kristen really loved the game, and despite the fact that I didn’t follow the game very much, I can remember some times when my father would take me to a game. He was a Cubs fan, too, although I was very young when he took me and my mom. I think that was before he grew mean, because I have nothing but fond memories of being at Wrigley field.

Lynette knew nothing about professional baseball, but I knew that she spent the last week or so reading the sports section and talking to Kristen’s father so that she could follow along and offer intelligent conversation.

It was about an hour and a half before the game, and we had some great seats from a friend of Kristen’s father who was a season ticket holder. Our lunch would consist of hot dogs, sausages, and other ball park food from the concession stands or from the people walking through the stands.

Kristen seemed to know a few of the people sitting nearby, and everybody was very polite to us. There were a few people with baseball mitts, hoping for the opportunity to catch a ball coming their way.

The game started with the Phillies batting. Burris was pitching for the Cubs, and the Phillies’ first four players made three quick outs, leaving a man on second and allowing the Cubs to get their first chance at bat. At the end of the inning, the Cubs left two on base, and the score was nothing-nothing.

“This is going to be a great game,” Kristen said, feeding me some roasted peanuts, and explaining the game to Lynette and me.

The game continued in a similar vein until the fourth inning, when the Cubs drew first blood as Morales scored on a single by Thornton.

After that first run, Kristen turned to Lynette and said, “Pay up!”

Lynette simply nodded and wiggled until she was able to remove her panties from underneath her sun dress. She gave the garment to Kristen, who simply put them in her purse. This action did not go unnoticed by the other fans around us.

The Phillies came back in the seventh inning with Allen scoring on a single by Schmidt, tying the score. Lynette gave Kristen an evil grin, and although Kristen was more discreet as she pulled down her panties, there were fans nearby watching. They apparently saw Lynette before and were probably wondering what would happen when the next run was scored.

The Cubs came back at the bottom of that same inning. Thornton scored a run on a single by Rosello. A few plays later, Harris ran home to put the Cubs two points ahead. Each time the Cubs scored, Kristen placed her hand underneath Lynette’s dress. Apparently, the penalty was an orgasm—not much of a penalty except it was in public, and I saw Lynette biting her lip to keep from getting too vocal in the stands.

When the Cubs scored again in the eighth inning, Kristen swapped her seat with mine, and she told me to bring Lynette off for her. Lynette smiled at me, so I did my best. I felt Lynette’s pussy clamp down on my fingers as I teased all around her clit without touching it directly. I knew that this tended to drive Lynette wild, and it took a few minutes before I felt the contractions that signaled her ecstasy.

The Cubs won the game four to one, but I think that Lynette (and possibly her few observant fans) had the most fun at the game.

Afterward, Kristen drove us back to the hotel, where Lynette paid her ultimate punishment for losing.

As soon as the door to our room was closed, Kristen ordered, “Pussy slave, I want you to bring Jim to an orgasm using only your tongue. No fingers and no lips. Just your tongue.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Lynette said, as she stripped off her dress before pulling my pants down.

Lynette didn’t seem to mind her punishment, and after about ten minutes, I moved toward one of the chairs so I could sit down, since I was starting to get tired (of standing—not Lynette’s actions!).

Meanwhile, Kristen was laying out on the floor, and she pulled her dress up to reveal her naked crotch. Kristen played with herself as Lynette stimulated my cock with her warm and wiggly tongue.

It took Lynette about fifteen or twenty minutes, but finally, I felt myself getting close to orgasm.

Lynette seemed to sense this, and shifted her position so that her face was straight on to the head of my cock. She teased underneath the head of my cock with her tongue as I started to thrust a bit, trying to increase the stimulation on my dick.

When I erupted, Lynette was perfectly positioned so that my first jet hit mostly on top of her tongue, although a bit landed on her upper lip and into one of her nostrils. Lynette continued licking me, and I continued to spurt and spurt until I didn’t have any more to give.

Most of my semen was coating Lynette’s tongue like a white gooey paste, although some was starting to slip down in a big drip at the tip of her tongue.

Kristen saw that some of her precious seed was about to drip off, and she stopped playing with herself and moved quickly over to where Lynette was and threw herself on top of the cheerleader. The two girls locked their lips in a lovely embrace as Kristen took my sperm from Lynette’s mouth.

My erection didn’t die down. As the two girls continued kissing, I got up and moved behind Kristen and pointed my cock between Kristen’s legs. I quickly located Kristen’s cunt hole and eased myself inside Kristen. It went in smoothly and I got into my own rhythm as my dick moved in and out of Kristen’s warm chamber.

It took me longer to reach orgasm this time, but Kristen and Lynette kept each other on edge by slowly teasing each other. Kristen received the most orgasms, mostly because Lynette’s teasing of Kristen’s clitoris was enhanced by my continued thrusting into Kristen.

We got back from Chicago Sunday afternoon. Almost immediately, I headed into the music studio.

There was this bass line repeating in my head for a few days now.

“Dum dum dum da-da dum dum...”

Seven notes in three beats with a one beat rest.

I tried playing the beat on the upright, and it didn’t sound right.

The organ sounded the best with a deep bass. All D’s and ending on a lower A.

I was playing it over and over when Kristen walked in. “You didn’t have the DND light on.”

“Yeah. I’ve got this beat in my head. Listen.”

I played the bass line again, three times before dropping to an A7 bass line for the next time...

“That’s a standard bass riff,” Kristen said. She walked over to the stand where her bass guitar was. She quickly hooked it up to the mini-amplifier.

Dum dum dum da-da dum dum.

Kristen played that effortlessly.

“You’ve got it, Kris,” I said. “Is that from a song?”

“If so, it’s generic. It could be the bass line to anything.”

“Not rock,” I said. “This is just two chords. The D and then the A-A7.”

“That’s not the way you played it,” Kristen said. She started the bass line again. She started to shift to the A and I told her to wait, and she continued until I told her to change chords.

“Weird,” Kristen said. “No song that I can think of.”

“I wrote some music a couple of months ago for a band piece, but I’m thinking it should be a rock thing. It’s the same chord progression, except it was G and D7.”

Kristen looked at me. “A band piece?”

“Well, the bass line fits, but not the same key. I was thinking of a wind-horn thing, like Phil Spector’s wall of sound.”

“Do you have anything recorded?”

“Not yet. Just an idea right now. The rhythm is in my head. Then today, that bass line seemed natural to add.”

“I heard you doing the ‘dum dum’ thing last night.”

That embarrassed me. “Um, sorry, Kris...”

“Oh, don’t be worried. I knew what was going on in your head. Your music is how you relate to everything. I considered myself lucky to be thought of that way by you.”

“That’s not true!” I protested.

Kristen looked skeptical. “You don’t equate everything to music?”

“Not everything.”

Kristen changed the subject back. “OK. You have this bass line, and this horn backup. Do you have words?”

I shook my head. “The words are out of reach for me until I hear the music. The meter would be ‘dum dum da-da dum’ which would make a good counterpoint against the bass line.”

Kristen closed her eyes. “Dum dum da-da dum. There’s my Lynette doll!”

I laughed. “That fits, but it’s more like, ‘She’s a movie star...’”

We played together for hours trying to get the melody out of my head and into something tangible. Luckily, Kristen recorded a couple of our sessions so we would have something to work with later. I didn’t tell Kristen that once there was a song in my head, I could reproduce it at any time at will, since taping was always a good idea.

I woke up the next morning with Lynette in my arms. She was awake and hugging me.

“Good morning, Lynette!” I said, very tired and groggy.

“Kristen and you were in the studio all night,” Lynette said. “Kris said to make sure you got up in time for June to pick you up. Kris is going to skip one of her classes today at the community college to make sure she’s with you after school.”

“No! I want her to do her courses!”

“Relax, Oogie,” Lynette said, kissing me softly. “I have the same class and I’ll take notes. She says you’re working on a song, and you’re going to work with the people for your band you’re going to use at Puppy Dawg’s.”

I nodded, and remembered the marathon music session that the two of us did the night before. We tried variations on things, but I really needed a bunch of other players to get the right feel for the song.

Lynette physically dragged me out of bed and into the kitchen, where she fed me something that she whipped up specially for me that day: French toast wrapped around breakfast sausages.

I looked at the sandwich doubtfully, and shook my head. Somehow the sweetness of the French toast and the spiciness of the sausage didn’t seem as if it would be a combination that appealed to me.

Finally, Lynette shoved the package into my mouth, forcing me to bite down. The taste was actually quite good, so I made short work of the first one when Lynette brought me a second.

“No thirds, Oogie,” Lynette said, laughing. “Kristen’s orders.”

I was stuffed from the first two, and Lynette gave me an orange just as June arrived to pick me up so I would have something healthy to eat on my way in with June.

“You look like shit!” June said when she saw me.

“Late night.”

June gave a belly laugh. “I don’t know why I stick with you, Jim. You have two of the prettiest girls I know sleeping with you, and Sherry ready to rape you any day now.”

I gave a harrumph to June and said, a bit testily, “I’ll have you know I was working on a song last night.”

June nodded her head. “Did it involve two blonde girls screaming?”

I didn’t dignify that with an answer. I knew that June was just kidding with me. She didn’t have any jealousy over me for the simple reason that I wasn’t the main focus in her love life.

I got permission from Mr. Proilet to practice for our upcoming audition at Puppy Dawg’s with the people who were going to be in that band after school.

Kristen was there, and she brought most of her guitars with her, and so was Gerry. In fact, the two of them were hooking their guitars into a mixer that looked a bit familiar.

“Is that the mixer from the studio?” I asked.

Kristen shook her head. “No, I bought two of them. It saves having to lug a bunch of amps everywhere.”

I handed out my music to everybody, and explained about the “wall of sound” type of style that I was envisioning. I explained, “This is a basic beat, and once we get it down, we can improvise off it a whole bunch of ways.”

It took nearly forty-five minutes to get the wind and horn parts down. As I did that, Kristen was working with Gerry and Amy to get the guitars and piano parts going.

Finally, I decided to put the thing together. I gave Roy the “She’s a movie star” line, and told him to use it or scat sing to the same meter for the melody.

“You don’t have words for this?” Roy asked.

“Not yet. This song has been going through my head for a while, though.”

Roy shrugged.

I tapped my baton, and got everybody ready and started with the bass line played by Kristen and Amy with her left hand. After four bars, the horns came in with the winds, and they all sounded pretty good.

Finally, I signaled to Roy. He sang his lines, but surprised me by doing it in a falsetto about an octave above what I told him. I didn’t stop the song... jazz is about improvisation, of course, and if this didn’t work out, well, at least Roy gave it a shot.

The interesting point is that Roy had great judgment: the falsetto worked.

The song sounded great, even though every line was “She’s a movie star!” and tended to get boring.

After that, we did a couple of standard jazz tunes, and then another song that I thought would make a great feature.

We didn’t let out until about 4pm.

“I don’t think the next rehearsal will go this long,” I assured everybody. “I really wanted to get through the basics before working on an actual repertoire.”

As Kristen and I were walking out to the parking lot, a fellow junior named James Zane approached me. Nobody called him that name, but instead referred to him as “Zaniac,” a nickname he earned as the class clown in elementary school, a reputation that he maintained into high school.

“Jim? I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”

“What’s up, Zaniac?”

“I’ve been talking to some people, and they said you were helping with the talent show.”

I nodded. “Yup. Did you want to do something?” I couldn’t imagine what Zaniac would do at a talent show, but I was intrigued at his interest.

“Um, well... I had some ideas... not as a performer, but... you know... for some other people.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Have you talked with these other people?” It was just like Zaniac to “volunteer” some unsuspecting people, who wouldn’t know about it. Of course, they would get in trouble when they didn’t show up.

“Most of them told me to talk with you or Ms. Kendall.”

Ah. I finally understood Zaniac’s problem. The teacher had a fundamental distrust of the boy, and I couldn’t say that he didn’t deserve it.

“So, what are your ideas?”

Zaniac looked at Kristen a bit nervously. “It might take some time to go over all of them. I know you have fifth period lunch, right? I could skip gym and talk with you tomorrow.”

“I guess...” I didn’t want to sound as if I was condoning a student to cut class.

“Coach Dillard doesn’t mind,” Zaniac assured me. “As long as I don’t do it too often. He’s kind of cool with that.”

“If you say so.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Zaniac was true to his word, and approached the cheerleader table in the lunchroom during fifth period. All of the cheerleaders eyed him dubiously, as if daring him to approach them, which didn’t seem to phase Zaniac a bit.

“Oogie? Could we talk about my ideas?” Zaniac indicated an empty table in the corner of the room.

“Sure,” I said. I turned to the people at my table and said, “Please excuse me. I’m not sure how long this will take.”

The two of us went to the table where we could talk more privately. Almost immediately, he started giving me his ideas.

“You know the football quarterback, Ted Evans? I have an idea for him as a singer...”

I listened to Zaniac’s ideas, and found myself laughing more than once. This kid certainly had a flare for coming up with strange but wonderful ideas. Every one of them was possible—assuming the student he suggested was willing to go along.

One idea didn’t sit well.

“Zaniac, I’m not performing at the concert!”

“I’ve heard,” Zaniac said, nodding, “but this isn’t having you play music or anything.”

“I’m still not sure...”

“Listen, Oogie. I just wanted to do this kind of bit. I figured that if you were a part of it, it could be fun.”

I thought about Zaniac’s idea, and finally decided to see how important this was to him. “OK, here’s what you do. If you want to be on stage, you’ll have to clear it with Ms. Kendall. I’d suggest you have a meeting with her and Mr. Proilet.”

“Mr. P. doesn’t have much of an opinion of me, either.”

I smiled. “Zaniac, if you really want to do this, you’ll have to get their permission.”

I saw the gears turning in the boy’s head. Finally, he got up and shook my hand. “Thanks, Oogie.”

As Zaniac started walking away, he turned, and asked, “Do you think your girlfriend Kristen would be willing to do a bit?”

I laughed. “Don’t push it, Zaniac! She’s no longer a student here.”

Zaniac shrugged. “I’ve seen her helping out in the music department. She was with you yesterday in the music room.”

I continued shaking my head, and Zaniac smiled and left the cafeteria.

Back at the cheerleader table, I found my sister was the current subject of conversation. Specifically, it was the subject of her upcoming “Sweet Sixteen” party.

The cheerleaders planned to give Merry a private cheerleader-only party when they realized that they also wanted to invite Roy Fennel. Adding a boyfriend into the mix meant inviting other boyfriends, and having the party at somebody’s house became a problem.

I turned to June and asked, “Didn’t you tell them Kristen’s idea?”

June looked perplexed. “What idea?”

There was this idea that Kristen suggested last weekend, but I just realized that June hadn’t gone with us to Chicago.

“Sorry! I forgot. You didn’t know, did you?”

June repeated, “What idea?”

“Remember the American Legion hall where we held Kristen’s birthday party? Kris said that she could rent the hall again.”

“That’s a big hall,” Sherry said. “We’d only have about thirty people.”

“Add another ten for my parents, some relatives and other friends,” I suggested. “Consider it our present to my sister.”

“What about entertainment?” Sherry asked, looking me in the eye.

“Funny you should mention that,” I said, grinning widely. “It just so happens that the band that I’m putting together for Puppy Dawg’s could use a dress rehearsal.”

June laughed, but some of the other cheerleaders were impressed.

“That would be so cool!” Sherry said, always happy to listen to me perform.

For the rest of the period, the cheerleaders went over some more ideas on how they could make the party special for my sister.

Sherry participated in the conversation, but I noticed her staring at me more than she had been doing recently.

Once again, I felt a bit of guilt about what happened the previous week.

After my conversation with Zaniac, a number of the people that Zaniac suggested approached me for some logistics on actually performing on-stage.

Ted Evans, the football quarterback, came up to me and said, “You know, if Zaniac hadn’t suggested this, I probably wouldn’t have thought about it. I can sing a bit, you know, and I was thinking about getting into acting. In fact, I’m considering doing the senior play this year.”

I sighed. The musical this year was Bye Bye Birdie and it was my suspicion that this play was suggested because everybody had an idea who to cast as the Elvis-type character: yours truly. I refused to even think about taking the part: I’m not an actor and I didn’t have any desire to do anything with the play other than what I did last year, which was helping out behind the scenes.

I looked at Ted and gave him a rueful smile. “You know, Ted, you’re pretty tall. With some sideburns, you could look like Conrad Birdie.”

Instead of laughing, Ted looked serious. “That’s the part I want. If not, then the Albert Peterson part... he has more singing parts, actually.”

I saw that the quarterback was quite serious. “Can you really sing?”

Ted gave me a shrug. “I did as a kid. Heck, I still do it, but I haven’t done anything in public. I thought Zaniac’s idea was crazy enough that if it turns out I can’t sing well enough, the piece is supposed to be played for laughs anyway.”

“That’s a good attitude, actually,” I said thoughtfully. “Does this mean that Zaniac got permission from Ms. Kendall?”

Ted laughed heartily. “Zaniac brought me and a few other people with him when he approached Ms. Kendall and Mr. Proilet. They weren’t buying it until Sherry Jordan turned to Mr. Proilet and said that you thought his ideas were great.”

“Sherry said that?” I asked.

Ted nodded. “After that, Mr. Proilet convinced Ms. Kendall to give Zaniac a try. She did, but said that if she didn’t like the rehearsals, he’s out.”

“Interesting.”

Thursday’s jazz band practice was spent with the band split up into groups. A lot of them were working on ideas for the talent show, so I decided to give them the next couple of rehearsal slots to work things out.

One of the more interesting groups consisted of Roy Fennel, Tina Grant, and a guitar player named Mike. They were assisted by Kristen. I knew that Tina and Roy were going to be doing a number together; he was also doing a piano/vocal duet with Tina’s older sister. In fact, Roy was on everybody’s short list of singers to help out with a project when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to sing during the talent show.

Meanwhile, I worked with the remaining musicians that hadn’t yet gotten involved with the talent show, and we went through some of the numbers for the Christmas show. These people were the less talented ones, actually. I was glad to be able to give them more personal attention.

After the rehearsal, I searched out an old friend of mine named Chris Henderson who used to play the clarinet in junior high before giving it up for gymnastics. He wasn’t a great player, but I knew that he also played piano, so he was familiar with reading complicated music.

Chris was in the gymnasium in his street clothes, doing what I learned from being around Kristen’s (and now Lynette’s) exercise classes as “warming down exercises.”

“Hey, Chris!” I said.

“What’s up, Jim?”

“I had an idea for the talent show, and I really need your help.”

“What’s your idea?”

“Well, I had this idea of something outrageous for the marching band.”

“Ah, one of Zaniac’s ideas!”

“Actually, it’s an idea that June Rodgers gave me after I watched the marching band rehearse on the football field one day.”

“What’s this have to do with me?”

I smiled. “I’d like you to direct.”

“I can’t direct!”

“This will be easy, but I’ll teach you the basics so you don’t look foolish. Do you think you’d be able to swing by Kristen’s house sometime this weekend?”

Chris furrowed his brow. “Maybe late Sunday afternoon. Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I think this will be fun, actually.”

Chris shrugged. “I’m game. Things that you do seem to become pretty popular around here. I’ll hang along for the ride.”

“Something good can come out of this, you know.”

“Like what?”

“You could become drum major. We don’t have one in the marching band, you know.”

“I’d rather do gymnastics. It’s what I do best.”

This was what I thought Chris would say. “Why not do both?”

“Huh?”

“Who says a drum major has to march down the field? I saw Sherry do end over end flips as the cheerleaders came onto the field last week. Why can’t a drum major do that?”

“Ooh...” Chris said, grinning widely. “That’s an idea!”

There was a rehearsal for the performance band for Puppy Dawg’s on Saturday, and we planned for it to take place in the music studio at our apartment. In the room I normally used, it would be cramped, but Kristen originally planned the studio to use three rooms instead of the one we were currently using. The other two rooms were currently used for storage, so I moved everything from the nearer room into the one further back. I noticed that there were Masonite walls in both rooms. I was sure that Kristen already installed sound proofing.

I opened the divider between the main studio and what used to be the first closet, and Kristen got some folding chairs and risers and we arranged things more or less how we would be performing at Puppy Dawg’s.

When the members of the gig band showed up, they were impressed by the studio. I showed everybody where they were to be seated.

Before we could start rehearsing, Frank Rizzo had an important question. “Is this band going to have a name?”

That was a good question. “Actually, I hadn’t thought of us as anything other than the band.”

“Robbie Robertson has that name sewed up,” Kristen noted, laughing. She squinted as if trying to remember something and then said, “Yup, The Band is already taken.”

I nodded. “Actually, I like that group’s name. It’s so plain and ordinary. It doesn’t promise anything but music. I wish I thought of it.”

Kristen nodded, but didn’t add anything.

Gerry piped up and said, “Our audition next month is for Puppy Dawg’s house band, right? How about using that if you want something plain.”

“The House Band?” I asked, intrigued.

Frank rolled his eyes but smiled.

Roy nodded and said, “Oogie Woogie and his impresario House Band.”

This got a lot of laughter, but I put my hand up. “No. It’s not just about me. Don’t put my name on it, or you guys won’t feel that you’re part of it. I think the ‘impresario’ part is a bit pompous.”

“So, just House Band?” Kristen asked.

“Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?” James Gripper asked. James, known as Grip, was a pretty good trumpet player in the band. “I mean, we haven’t got the gig yet!”

“I like it, Grip,” I said, nodding at James. “If we show up at Puppy Dawg’s, and tell them we’re the House Band, they’re bound to sit up and take notice.”

By general consensus, we agreed that we’d be the House Band from now on.

“Are we all going to be wearing a hat like yours?” Frank asked.

As usual, I was wearing the hat that Kristen got for my birthday, since this had something to do with music. “If you want,” I said, shrugging. “Wear what you feel comfortable wearing.”

Once we got the preliminaries out of the way, we got down to business. “Let’s do the wind/horn run through.”

“Which one?” Frank asked. “The ‘movie star’ one?”

“Um, that’s just a working title. I didn’t write any words for it, yet.”

Frank laughed. “If we’re going for plain titles, then why not call the song, ‘Working Title?’”

Everybody laughed. “OK. Let’s start with Working Title for now.” I said, trying to get us back on track.

We stopped and restarted the song a few times, mostly to get the sax/horn part with a stronger groove. Finally, I got a brilliant idea.

I left the studio and retrieved one of Ringo’s old albums. When I got back, I put the LP on the stereo and put on It Don’t Come Easy.

“Listen to the horn section on this song.”

As the song played, I pointed out the horns and how they augmented the song. After it was done, I said, “This arrangement is definitely influenced by Phil Spector, who did the Let It Be album, and some of John’s and George’s solo works.”

“You want us to sound like Ringo?” Frank asked.

“No,” I said, laughing. “I want us to sound like a well trained rhythm section. Now, let’s take Working Title from the top.”

The song went much better this time, so we went to do some standards, having either Roy, Kristen, or Stacy singing lead, where appropriate.

After a few songs, Roy asked, “Aren’t you going to sing anything? Your voice is a bit better than mine, you know.”

I laughed. “Better? I don’t think so, Roy.”

Nobody else laughed.

“Oh, come on, guys. Roy doesn’t play an instrument, he should sing lead.”

Grip shook his head. “So, you’re just gonna stand up there and direct us? We’re not a symphonic band, Oogie. You’ve got to perform.”

Kristen caught my eye, and signaled me.

“Let’s take five, people,” I said. “Lynette has some snacks upstairs in the apartment. There’s a pool table down the hall as well. There are bathrooms on all floors. Let’s all be back here in five.”

Everybody got up, and Kristen led me across the hall to he recovery room.

“Jim, what’s up? Grip is right; you’re not performing.”

“I want everybody else to have a chance to perform. I did the Working Title song, after all.”

Kristen shook her head. “This isn’t the talent show. I know you’re serious about starting a band, and if you do so, you will want to earn a living. People are going to come to see you, Jim. They’ll want to hear the band, but they want to hear you. Everybody in the band is in it because you’re a part of it.”

“What about Roy?” I asked. “He can’t just play tambourine.”

“Why not? Roy’s not long term, Jim,” Kristen said. “He’s told Merry that he likes singing, but would never consider making that his only career. He’s doing it in now just because the two of you are friends. He doesn’t have to sing every song.”

“Hmm,” I said. I didn’t know that about Roy, but it made sense. He was excited about electronics and did a lot of projects from Heathkit and Radio Shack’s “Science Fair” line of do-it-yourself kits. He liked music, but he didn’t have the passion for it that I and a few of the others had. “All right, then. The two of us will alternate, deciding which songs we like best.”

“That’s the spirit, Jim.”

I gave Kristen a quick kiss. “Let’s go upstairs before all of Lynette’s cookies are gone.”

“You’ve always been after her cookies!” Kristen said, giggling.

“They’re not as warm or as soft as yours, my sweet!” I gave an appreciative tweak of Kristen’s nipples through her blouse, and her nipples hardened immediately.

Kristen giggled. “We’ll never make it back in five minutes if you keep that up, Oogie!”

The two of us laughed as we went up the stairs.

One of the things I accomplished was getting some of the songs that we were rehearsing recorded. There were a couple that I wanted to work with, especially the song that was now called Working Title. I did three tracks for that one. The first track contained the rhythm section and drums. The second track was Kristen’s bass guitar, Amy’s piano, and Gerry’s lead guitar. The third was the “She is a movie star!” vocals on it.

That vocal track was a throw-away. The words were just a fill-in so we could get a feel for the way the song would play out. During the recorded section, I cut off the seventh and eighth lines of each verse, replacing them with a two-word “Oh yeah!” I also added the locations for a chorus, with an even different composition (I was starting to hear the words in my head as I recorded it, but didn’t want to start writing a song in front of the band while we were supposed to be rehearsing).

The song was pretty well blocked out in my head, but after hearing the recording I made, I realized I wanted to feature the rhythm section even more in it. It already contained a pretty funky arrangement, and they were starting to come together really well.

However, there was enough of the song that I could now work on the words privately in my studio this evening. I played the song a few times until I started “seeing” the words that I saw earlier that day.

After a few tries on the piano, I came up with a good first line: “She’s my Goddess, you see!”

I grinned. This was going to be a song about Kristen!

There was going to be some problem with the six-line stanza, since it wasn’t a normal poetry form, especially with the two-word follow-up. I shrugged, and figured I’d come up with something.

Now that I had a good first line, I started playing again, and as if by magic, the words came to me:

She’s my Goddess, you see!

She’s the girl I want forever.

That girl of mystery,

And she’s always there whenever.

We’ll make history,

And we’ll always be together

My muse!

Maybe the words were trite, but they came from the heart. Inspired, I went for the next stanza. Once again, the words came out and the rhyme didn’t seem forced.

I noticed the intercom light was flashing, but I wanted to get this recorded. Kristen would be so surprised!

I wrote down the lyrics that I sang, then I cued up the recorder. Since the third track, the vocal track, was a throw-away, I simply recorded over it, and sang the first two stanzas.

Feeling proud of myself, I answered the intercom.

“Oogie here.”

“Jim, you’re getting bad.” It was Kristen. “Forty-five minutes!”

“I was recording and didn’t want to get out of the groove.”

“What were you doing?”

“Vocals for Working Title.”

“Ooh. Can I help?”

I wanted this to be a surprise for Kristen, but as she was a member of the House Band, she was going to hear the words I wrote sooner or later. I shrugged, and then realized that Kristen would never be able to see me shrug over the intercom.

“Sure. Bring Lynette.”

“Cool. Be right down.”

It wasn’t long before the two girls entered. Lynette was nude, and wore a ribbon around her neck attached to a longer ribbon that Kristen was holding.

“We were into something when you called back,” Kristen explained.

I shrugged. Lynette didn’t seem too embarrassed, actually.

The recorder was all cued, so I turned on the three tracks and hit “play.”

As the girls heard the words, Kristen cringed as she realized I was singing about her. Lynette wore a big smile on her face.

After the second stanza was done, I stopped the tape.

Lynette spoke up first. “That’s wonderful, Oogie! It’s better than some songs I hear on the radio.”

Kristen, on the other hand, had fire in her eyes. “You are NOT going to be singing love songs written especially for me!”

“Oh, come on, Kris! I was inspired!”

It took a few minutes for Lynette and me to calm Kristen down. Finally, she said, “OK. You can keep the lyrics. Are there more?”

“Not yet,” I admitted. “I did those two verses and then noticed the light flashing.”

“Oh.”

We talked for a bit, and then went upstairs where Lynette donned an apron and made us some Salisbury steaks with gravy.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the weekend?” Kristen asked over dinner.

“Chris Henderson is coming over late tomorrow afternoon. I’m going to teach him how to direct.”

“Direct what?”

I smiled. “The marching band. I was thinking that they need a drum major and he’d be perfect. He used to play the clarinet and I know he plays the piano, so directing shouldn’t be that difficult for him. I just need to start with a single song.”

We made more chit-chat, and Lynette brought up how impressed she was about the song that I co-wrote with the rest of the band.

“That song really sounds great!” Lynette insisted.

“Thanks. It’s everybody’s song. I started with a bass line that Kristen helped me realize, so I started putting other beats against it. The lyrics could probably use some work, and I need to come up with some sort of chorus for it.”

Kristen didn’t look angry anymore as we talked about that song. This worried me a bit, since I still couldn’t always read Kristen’s moods perfectly. However, she seemed happy.

After dinner, I washed the dishes and Kristen and Lynette told me that they were going downstairs. That term, “going downstairs” was usually a euphemism for using the communal shower, although Kristen sometimes used the expression to mean she was going to play pool in the billiard room.

After giving all the dishes a thorough rinse, I put them into the dishwasher and turned it on.

I debated going back downstairs to finish my song, but figured that I’d sleep on it, and work on it tomorrow morning, refreshed.

The intercom buzzed. “Kristen?”

It was Harry’s voice.

I pushed the button. “She’s downstairs with Lynette. Is it important?”

“Not really,” Harry answered. “Please tell her that Daniel was able to secure the Legion Hall for next weekend.”

“Oh, that’s great!” I said. “That’s for Merry’s birthday!”

“I assumed so.”

“You’re invited, Harry, and as a guest, not as help!”

Harry laughed. “Thank you, Jim. Kristen already said the same thing.”

“Two brilliant minds come up with the same idea,” I answered. “What do you expect?”

“Daniel has also invited the three of you to lunch tomorrow on the patio. Bratwursts and Italian sausages.”

“I’ll pass the invitation to the girls when I see them.”

“Thanks, Jim. I’ll talk to you later.”

I decided to mosey on downstairs to see if the girls needed any company in the shower. If not, I could always work on those sucker shots that Camille taught me on the pool table.

When I got downstairs, I was surprised to see the DND light on outside the studio. I shrugged, and walked down the hall toward the billiard room, and confirmed that the shower was empty and hadn’t been used.

I worked on my shots for about an hour before the intercom went off again. “Oogie?”

“Yeah, Kris. What’s up?”

“Can you come to the studio?”

“Sure thing, Goddess!”

I put the cue away and walked back down the hall. The DND light was no longer lit. I knocked anyway.

Lynette answered. She was still nude.

“Hi, Oogie,” Lynette said, giggling. “Kristen has a surprise.”

“Does she?” I asked, smiling.

Kristen was by the open reel, and pushed the play button.

I heard the intro to the Working Title song, and was surprised to hear my vocals were replaced when the first verse began:

I am a lucky girl,

I have a wonderful lover.

And he’s a gem, a pearl,

As you’ll soon discover...

I’ll give him the world,

I won’t have any other...

My star!

Kristen recorded over my vocals, and redirected the song as a love song to me!

I was about to say something when the second verse began. Once again, it was Kristen singing about me.

When the third verse came on, it was my original words about Kristen. The transition in voices was noticeable and sounded great. I wondered how Kristen managed to time-shift my vocals to a different verse, though.

Before the chorus began, Kristen stopped the tape. “That’s as far as I got.”

“It’s no longer my song to you!” I complained.

“That’s right, Sugar,” Kristen said, smirking. “It’s our love song to each other now.”

I nodded, and then realized that I actually liked it that way! Kristen also saved me the effort of having to write additional verses as well!

“That’s great, Goddess! The song is better!”

The three of us listened to the song a couple of times, and we started working with each other on something suitable for a chorus. We agreed that it would have to be the two of us singing together.

Surprising, Lynette was the one that came up with a solution. She handed us a piece of paper where she was doodling. However, it wasn’t doodles, but words that fit the beat of the chorus that I came up with earlier in the day.

Lynette stood by the open reel and played the first part of the song, and switched the vocal track to record right before the chorus.

The two of us sang:

You’re the one I need.

You’re the one for me.

You’re the one I’ve hoped for.

You’re mine... we both agree!

You’re the one I love.

You’re the one for me.

You’re the one I’ve prayed for.

You’re my destiny!

YOU AND ME!

Lynette stopped the tape once the chorus was over.

“Lynette, that works fantastic!”

“Thank you,” Lynette said, shyly.

I made up my mind that I was going to have to do something special for Lynette. She was pretty creative, actually.

The three of us worked on the song the rest of the night. We realized we’d need another recording session with the House Band in order to get the song to fit in the new format that we worked out.

I never realized that writing a song would be as easy as it turned out. I agonized for almost a year with the melody that Mr. Proilet said reminded him of Canon, but this song really cooked and it didn’t take that long for it to progress from the “dum dum dum da-da dum dum” bass riff to a full blown song just by jazzing things up a bit.

I was now sure that I found my destiny, and I was very happy that both Kristen and Lynette could be a part of it.