Body Shop Update...
So, it's been exactly a year and no-one has heard from me. At the sake of sounding trite, I hit a writer's block. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to do Chapter 5. It sat half done on my desktop for a year and I opened it every few weeks and just looked at it. I have all these great ideas how to go on after this chapter, but Chapter 5 had me stumped. They say that a Chain is only as strong at it's weakest link, but I hope that if you don't like Chapter 5 you won't hold it against me. Please read and enjoy and I will get Chapter 6 on the way shortly. I promise it won't take a year.
Here we go again...The following story is the sole property of the writer. The writer grants license to Nifty.org and all Mirror Sites to publish on their sites. No other entities are licensed to reproduce or republish this work with out the express permission of the writer.
This work is entirely fictional any resemblances to another person, people or situation are entirely coincidental.
The work will most defiantly contain hot man on man sex involving cute twinks and hot muscle boys. If this type of thing offends you or is illegal where you are currently jerking off while reading this then zip up you drawers and leave, now, no questions asked, no if's, and's or butt's about it.
I am not shocked when I fall asleep 3
times in class and get sent to the office.
I check in with the secretary and tell her I am here to see the Mr.
I walk into his office; Mr. Johnson is standing behind his desk. I have never been in here before so I take it all in. It looks fairly drab and normal. The only thing that seems out of place is a paddle he has hanging in the corner. He catches me looking at it and laughs.
"Relax, Jamie. We don't use that anymore, it is just for looks" he says
My mind flashes back to some pictures I have at home on my computer. My dick starts to tingle and feel my heart beat quicken when I start to imagine some of the hooligans from school bent over this desk and taking whacks on their bare asses. I quickly have to be seated to keep from betraying myself. Even as we begin to talk, I can't get these erotic images out of my head and I find it hard to hold a conversation.
I explain why I have been remanded to his custody. He looks almost amused, but has to at least impart some wisdom if not punishment. Before he does that, he wants to know why I am so exhausted. I am counting the minutes until I know dad will be arriving in this very office and try not to spill the beans. I explain that I had a lot on my mind last night and just couldn't sleep; I don't even start to try to explain everything that has happened in the last twenty four hours.
Smiling, he says under his breath "girl problems."
I think to myself "if he only knew", and let him continue.
I am finally released with just a few minutes to spare before second hour is over. With one last backward glance at the paddle hanging ominously in the corner, I leave with dirty thoughts in my head and a very red face.
I make a hasty retreat, I know dad will be here soon, and I don't want to be caught in the office. I don't want to have to explain why I was here and hear another whole speech. I head to my locker, but on my way back through to third hour I see dad's back as he stands in the office. He has his hand on his hips and even from the back I can tell that he is "loaded for bear". What I would do to be a fly in the wall in that office today!
My anticipation is the only thing that keeps me going for the rest of the day. A number of people ask why I am smiling so much; one of those people is Steve Potter.
"Soon enough" is all I say as I walk by, eliciting strange looks from him and a few other teachers, all coaches. They seem to flock around him since he seems, and foolishly feels, un-touchable when he does things off center and blatantly wrong. Just as I pass by, a student gives him a note. Being overly-gracious he puts his arm around her and cops a feel at the same time. The others present only look on with admiration, showing not even the least bit of shock or indignation. The young girl, oblivious to the fact that she was just some old mans guilty-less lecherous fantasy for a few seconds, giggles and walks off.
The content of the note I can only guess, but I am willing to assume that it was not good. Since later, as I walked past the group of coaches and their lackeys, Mr. Potter pulled me aside.
"That was a nice trick your old man pulled, you better just hope you never need a favor from me", he said.
Pulling away from his grasp, I retort with, "Maybe you could just quit being a dick and no one would have to pull those stunts." I spin on my heals and walk off.
As I leave, I
think to myself that I have not made a whole lot of friends with the faculty
today and I better just lay low and be on my best behavior for a while.
Taking myself to my last class of the day, I
sit down and try to pay rapt attention to a lecture on the
As the day progresses, I feel more awake and invigorated. As the last class of the day lets out, most student dash off in hundreds of directions to attend to after school activities or to go home and vedge on the couch. I am lost as what to do. It is raining like crazy, I don't feel like starting homework yet and I am still a bit shy to go back to the shop. Plus there is nothing of any interest happening there anyway. I wander the halls for a while before making a mad dash to my Jeep. The inside of my Jeep is hot and humid and the windows are fogged over. Starting the motor I turn on the defroster and let it work it's magic. As I am waiting for the windows to clear I watch as car after car leaves the parking lot and a couple cars trickle in dropping people off then leave again. After watching a few cars drop people off I start to think about Rodger. His words from yesterday start to resonate in my head.
"I don't even have a top for it; I can't drive it if it is supposed to rain"
Only after hearing those words in my head a few times do I realize what I have been thinking.
Shutting of the engine, I dart inside trying to dodge puddles that have formed everywhere in the lot. Once inside I head for the locker room and try to think of an excuse to be there. I don't have any gym class this year, so it's not like I can claim I forgot something in my locker. Plus after dad raised hell this morning, I have a feeling I may not be welcomed by the guys from the team. The pool has its own locker room but is connected to the gym locker room by a door. I loop through the pool and walk into the locker room that is thankfully empty. As I approach the door to the main locker room I can here guys' voices yelling. Just as I am about to open the door, I hear Potter's voice.
"Anybody seen Thompson?"
Nobody answers. Potter asks again, this time less a bit quieter and I can tell he is smiling. "Well everyone in the gym, 10 laps warm up" he finally says.
Realizing that Rodger isn't here, I decide to take off. He must have not been able to get here in the rain. I can't help but think that of all days to miss practice this was a really bad one, and is not going to help his situation any. I loop through the pool again and come out at the rear lobby of the school, just as the door flies open and Rodger comes racing in soaking wet and out of breath. He seems surprised to see me, but I am elated to see him.
"Hey, I was just coming to look for you" I say "How did you get here?"
"The bus, Mom has an interview." He starts to tell me the details of his bus ride, but I cut him off.
"You better get in the gym, Potter is looking for you. And hurry, this is the first day of the rest of you life" I say with a chuckle.
He looks at me like he want to talk some more. He realizes he needs to go. With a "See YA" he bolts toward the gym.
I want to go watch practice, but I know better. They will be practicing inside today, so that leaves me no place to hide. If they were outside, I could find a quiet spot and sit in the shadows. But, when they practice inside, I can't do that. If that asshole Potter sees me hanging around that will only piss him off more, neither me or Rodger needs that.
Driving around town proves fruitless, I have two near miss accidents and nothing is happening. Driving back to the school I figure I will pick Rodger up and take him home. I just hope I don't start looking like a stalker. Everyone filing out the side door nearest the gym is drenched. The Cross Country guys are soaked from head to toe as they slowly drag themselves to there cars. Potter musta been pissed enough to make his precious team run outside in the rain. Rodger emerges smiling yet looking quite exhausted.
I pull my Jeep up to Rodger as he starts to walk toward the sidewalk and stop. They don't make electric zippers for the windows or I would roll the window down to yell. Honking my horn works fine, he turns around with a start. I motion for him to get in. He opens the passenger door and looks in. "Well, get in, it's raining, crackhead." I say. Rodger crawls up and in but not without some groans and effort, due to his aching muscles. "Good practice?" I ask.
Grinning from ear to ear he says "Yes, I think everything has been straightened out, but I am still nervous."
"Well, I understand that, I would be foolish to assume that that f'er doesn't have something else up his sleeve," I say.
The rest of the drive is silent, Rodger is beat, I am nervous and I assume he is still a bit shocked at running into me after almost 10 years.
To call it a flurry of activity would fail to properly describe the scene at Rodger's house when we pull up. The street is blocked by fire apparatus and parked in Rodger's driveway are two Detroit Edison trucks. Despite his aching muscles, he is out of my Jeep and rounding the corner of the house before I can get stopped. Once I'm parked I dash from my Jeep and round the corner also, only to be greeted by devastation.
Not devastation in terms of structure, but emotionally a terror to see. A large tree has fallen, the main house is spared but the garage is a total loss. There are pieces of the garage everywhere. Amidst the chaos, confusion and debris is Rodger's Bronco. It has a 2x4 stuck through the hood, the windshield is smashed there isn't light 1 that is not broken, 2 flat tires and a multitude of other traumatic injuries.
Being carried out from the wreckage is Rodger, with tears in his eyes. He looks like death. He is pale and about to collapse. I go to him, but stop. I want to hold him, but I fear he may shun the contact, he is clearly not like me. I try to speak, but I don't have words. All I can manage is a weak grimace, I'm lost for words. Margo just then walks out on the back porch, and tries to talk but she is also short on words.
Rodger walks off, Margo begins to follow him but then a change here mind and lets him go. I try to make small talk, "How long ago did this happen?" I ask.
"About an Hour and half." She says
"Everyone else ok?" I choke, realizing that should have been my first question.
"Yeh, Sean is very upset, he is so afraid of how Rodger is going to react. Jamie is loading his camera, he can't wait to take pictures." She chuckles a bit at the last part.
I run out of things to say, Margo is on no mood to talk so I say "Good Bye" and slowly walk back to my Jeep. I can't help but be angry. Yesterday, I was on top of the world, I was solving problems and squashing villains. I had now hit a wall. This one was over my head, I may look like a squirrel sometimes but there was nothing I could do with a tree laying on top of a car, apart from gnawing the damn thing to pieces with my little buck-teeth. Demoralized, drove home.