Date: Tue, 14 Jul 2020 11:51:03 -0400 (EDT)
From: E MOSER <steamgene@cox.net>
Subject: Tales of Jones Lab #68. Tom Bailey (bisexual High School)

Tales of Jones Lab #68. Tom Bailey (bisexual High
School)

Author's note. These stories are a development from the stories by
rwxxx13 with the group title "Study bg3-17." He has approved my
continuation with these stories

Tom Bailey

by

Larry Marian


The beginning of a new school year started with two new counselors for
the Jones 7/8 III group, always a bit difficult with that age group. They
could see how the eighth graders wondered about their counselors from
seventh and the seventh wondered about new counselors after they'd
learned so much about the ones they thought they would have. The noise
level began to rise, even though both counselors sat silently.
Then two, a boy and a girl, both maybe ten,wearing a white shoulder strap
and belt with a badge on it, came from a corner of the 7/8 III common
room, stood in the middle as the girl blew on a whistle and the boy
cried, his voice still shrill, "Hand UP!" as both he and the girl
raised their hands.
At once the two adults raised their hands, with "Hands UP," and the
7/8s did so. Silence reigned.
"We weren't able to talk to the counselors who were supposed to be
here. All I can say without getting five swats on my bare bottom, is that
there was a major problem with a 7/8 group and your counselors agreed to
set things straight. From what I understand you guys are straight. Now,
let us introduce ourselves. First, the pages, are our twin children, the
girl is Abeena Susanna and the boy is Nathan Mohammed. I am still called
Rose Belinson and this is my husband and the father of our children,
Nathan Belinson. Once upon a time we were new eighth graders. Our
counselors were Mom and Dad Paige and Mason."
"You had Mom Paige and Dad Mason for Counselors? The ones with their
picture on the wall? The one who threw a football player across a ten
foot barbed wire fence?" All but one looked at each other.
"We paid good money to get these stories started. I'm now Dad Nathan.
We were the DoG and DoB for years. We both got tired of too many
punishments and not enough counseling. Our kids were old enough to do a
move to a new school, we asked if we could step down, and we said we
would."
"So here we are. Yes, our twins are acting pages - ask them to do
something to help. Both are here in fifth grade. They do have their own
room in the counselors' apartment.
"So our apology for this long introduction. All stand. Students take
your white bag, undress, place your clothes in it, go with your room mate
to stow your clothes, then return here in ten minutes to join the
Beginning of Semester picnic.
"Ready? Go for it," as both new counselors began to undress in front of
the one totally new student, a boy, probably eighth grade even if he was
nearly six foot.
"Hey, I'm not gonna strip and show off what I got. I want the girl to
be amazed, not see it as just junk, cause my junk ain't junk."
"Three days from now these girls will see several hundred, and the boys
will see beavers of all degrees of fur. Look around you and see."


"I don't give a shit. I don't flash for no reason. This ain't a
reason lesson some girl wants to offer some tang now."
"Wooo! I think we need to speak with your parents tomorrow. Now. You
have 23 of your peers, nude and proud of where they are, two ten year
olds, and two adults with the strangest parentage of all. Now, you signed
a paper with your parents to obey the rules. You strip now, or you will
be escorted to a PR - there is a pillow and a blanket . The door will be
locked from the outside. Your parents will come and pick you up tomorrow.
They will surrender all your fees. Or you can try to adapt. Take your
pick." Rose looked at Nathan to see a face she had never seen so mad.
Tom began to undress. As he did, the 7/8s around him, turned their nude
backs on him. "I don't want to see junk," came from somewhere in the
group.
"Okay, put your clothes in your white bag. Everybody take a seat and
let's get started," Dad Nathan said.

Five days later when Susanna left the elementary wing at the end of
classes she headed straight towards the counselors' apartment but not
the room she shared with her twin Mo, rather her parents' office. She
gave a knock on the door and got a "come in," so she entered.
"Mom, I have to tell you what happened," she said.
"Okay, Rosebud, what happened."
"Mom, can you please call me Susanna now! Rosebud is just so childish!"
"Okay, dear. I'll try to remember when you aren't around your friends
or the 7/8s. Now, what is the problem?"
"That Tom Bailey. He told me I have nice boobs. Yeah, I have more than
most ten year olds, but he's thirteen and he does have a big dick."
"Yeah. You're a bit advanced, but Mo is a bit behind maybe - but don't
tell your brother that."
"Oh, I won't. But he asked me how I could get into the high school wing
if I'm a fifth grader. I showed him my key and told him that I'd get
two swats if I let anybody else use it or let anybody in or out. He acted
real upset. Mom, he gives me the creeps."
"Thanks, dear. We're watching him."
"And Mom, a couple of the 7s and an 8th told me that he'd been talking
to them about being friendly. They're all girls with hardly any boobs at
all. Same way with hair."
"Okay. You have homework?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Get on it and then go have some fun. Oh, Ricky told me you were real
helpful yesterday. That's what pages do."
"Thanks, Mom," and Susanna was out the door.

The following day Tom went into the computer center to find it empty
except for two girls, probably middle school. He recognized one as a 7th
grader and the other seemed eighth, but he didn't recognize her at all.
He walked over to them. "Well, hello. I'm supposed to be in study hall
right now. Bet you two lovelies are too. Want to slip over to a vacant PR
and mess around a bit? You can look but don't touch for right now."
"Uh, my beddie is a tenth grader. My dorm is 9/10, not 7/8. I don't
think he'd like you trying to mess with me," the older looking blond
said.
"Well, excesses ME! I just thought you might be interested in some fun.
I mean I thought all Jones girls liked to party."
"With friends. I have lots of friends."
"I'm not interested. My mom told me that it's not the size of a boy's
dong that counts, but how he uses it," the younger brunet said. "And my
beddie is a big eighth grader. So go look for somebody who's polite."
With that the two grabbed their book bags and walked away.
Tom scratched his head. "Stupid bitches," he said to himself.
That evening during study hall he turned to his room mate, Felicia, a
fellow eighth grader, a brunet with a long pony tail. She didn't seem to
be studying.
"Hey, you taking a short break?"
"Yeah. Sorta. Thinking of somebody back home I'd like to see."
"Well, if it's a boy friend, I'll bet he'd like to see you know. You
sure look good to me."
"Well, thanks, but I'm taken right now. I live close enough I go home
every other weekend. We see each other then. He'd be at Jones now except
his dad got laid off and they can't afford the tuition this year. Maybe
next. Maybe his grandparents could help. His parents and my folks
understand." She turned as to go back to studying.
Shit, he thought.
Two weeks later he finally managed to lure an 8th grader into a PR with
him. By this time all he looked for was a mouth. Prissy was tall for an
eighth grader, still with minimal boobs and a bald pussy. In addition she
had a few acne bumps. She also demanded that he go down on her first.
"You boys just want to get it and then walk off. Nope. I want you to
kiss my puss first and tongue my snatch first. Then I'll suck you off.
Deal?"
So he signed up for a PR and during free time they went. This was the
very first time that he met a girl for anything resembling sex when both
were naked (still his words), instead of him stripping the girl. In fact,
he had a difficult time getting hard at first as he tried what he had so
little down, put his horizontal lips on a girl's vertical one. He never
did find her clit. But she was good for her word and gave him a decent
blow job, swallowed, and left at once.
Shit, he thought. What's the sense of having lots of pretty tits and
pussies, all nice and young, and nothing to do with them?
A few days later he was walking to class behind three girls, probably
ninth graders. "He may have a massive dick, but he's eighth grade and
just a total jerk. From what I heard, he really sassed the new 7/8
counselor and she seems okay. Those twins are just great. We need pages
like them." He gritted his teeth. Bitch might be tenth and have a beddie
in 11/12. He shook his head.
He went to the room he shared with Felicia. He lay down on his bed on his
side and was about to play with himself when Felicia came in all smiles
and grins. "Well Tom, I just got to be the luckiest girl alive.
Winston's grandfather didn't win the whole lottery, but he did win
$100,000. Win says he's going to help out Dad and Win moves in here day
after tomorrow. I'm approved to go to a 9/10 dorm again. Win and I can
be beddies again. Oh, to be with him every night, and not two nights
every two weeks! "
"Well, shit. At least you get to see somebody every two weeks."
"You know, Tom, if you'd just shuck your `I'm better than anybody
attitude and you need to worship my dick,' you might just get some girl
other than Prissy. She'd suck a sperm whale given half a chance. And she
says you don't have a clue how to get a girl to cum."
With that, Tom got up. "Well, fuck you. I'm going to the gym. Nobody
gives me any slack." With that he stormed out of the room.
He returned just minutes before the bell for supper. He walked in to see
Felicia's side of the room bare of everything except the sparse
furniture and the mattress. There was a note on his desk. "Tom, I have
permission now to move to the room that Win and I will share. Good luck.
Please loosen up. You could be a great guy here at Jones. Felicia." He
tore up the envelope, put the pieces on the note, balled it up and threw
it across the room to land on what had been her desk. The bell rang for
supper.
Tom shrugged his shoulders, went to the 7/8 communal bathroom and washed
his hands. Then he went to the caf to stand in line for supper. Around
him was a buzz of talk, but none directed towards him. Feeling totally
pissed he headed for a table that had only one other student, a seventh
grade boy who didn't even acknowledge him. Three others came and joined
the seventh grader, leaving him alone with half the table. He ate rapidly
and left to go back to the empty room. There he went to take a shower,
which he should have before supper after his work out. Again, the stalls
around him were empty, though the others were mostly full. He left the
shower early, drying off as he walked back to the room.
Lights out came and with it the bed check. "Felicia's moved to 9/10.
I'm here," he called in response. He turned towards the wall, then
wiped the moisture from his eyes and fell asleep. Some time later he was
shaken awake.
"Thomas Bailey, you are called to the Student Council to answer charges
against you for your behavior towards your fellow students, mostly girls.
Get out of bed and come with us. As his sleep cleared, he saw five
people, three girls and two boys. Amazed, he saw that all five were
dressed, and dressed as though going to sing, or debate, or some other
excursion. The girls wore their knee length pleated skirts, while the
boys, long pants, each with a white dress shirt and their year tie, and
each with the school blazer, the awards, if any, on the blazer pocket.
"Huh? What the fuck is this?" he demanded.
"That's one more. Thomas Bailey, get out of your bed and come with us.
There are four waiting to carry you. Which do you prefer?"
"Get out of my room you muffafuckers!"
"Get the escort!"
A clear soprano voice called, "Escort to the Chambers," and four
students came in, each wearing a leather apron. Even still a bit groggy,
he noticed the tall black guy named David as well as Prissy, a very grim
expression on her face. The four took their places and each grabbed an
appropriate arm or leg while one of the boys in the school uniform tied a
gag to silence him. Then the four lifted him up to follow the five
already dressed. He tried to break free, but the grip of the four was
great. He could see they entered a PR, but set up as a court room.
His escort lowered his feet so that all four held him upright.
"We are going to remove the gag so you may respond. Yell or shout and
the gag gets returned. Nod your head if you understand." Tom nodded.
"Remove his gag and give him a chair to sit in," the girl in the middle
said. Tom felt the gag come off and he was gently forced down into a
wooden chair. The girl, an obvious senior Tom did not know looked at him,
"Tom Bailey, one of the great things about Jones is that we try to work
together to help each other. You seem to think that Jones is here to
serve you - not your academics or your sports, or the people around you,
but your swollen head that you are better than all the other Jones
students, from the kindergarten kids to the seniors who have already been
accepted to Harvard or West Point, or Oxford."
"So?"
"Are you aware that a Jones graduate is now the junior senator of this
state? That before she came to Jones she was on the cover of TIME? That
she has a medal, not only from the US for bravery, but from the UK as
well. You can see a picture of her in the library, curtseying before the
King before getting her order, You think you can top her?"
"Uh. I don't know. I don't give a s..."
"Silence. None of us need to listen to a trash mouth. Rephrase your
comment: `I don't give a ...'"
"Darn. Is that okay?"
"Verbage yes. Attitude, no. You tried to con one of the 7/8 pages in
letting you get into the elementary wing."
"No, I didn't."
"You want to hear the recording of her report to one of your counselors?
BTW, just yesterday, I watched that ten year old girl throw my husband
over her shoulder. My husband is still a reserve officer of the IDF."
"Uh. Maybe I messed up a few times."
"Well, that's some progress. Tom Bailey, my notepad shows the votes in
on this board. You are to be shunned, Starting now, no student will speak
to you for any reason other than in class as instructed by a teacher, or
when the life of a fellow student is in danger. Do you understand?"
"So for how long?"
"Until you can be civil to all Jones students. You are not better. You
will receive no help until you announce at lunch that you will be a
friend to every Jones student, Not to help yourself, but to help them.
Understand?"
"What if I don't?"
"Then you will be miserable. Prissy?"
"Tom, I see potential when you get your head out of your ass. If a boy
wants a decent blow job from a girl, he should do a decent job for her.
The first time a boy kissed my cunt, he did a better job than you did
three weeks ago. Learn that and have friends."
"Tom Bailey, as we stated, no student will speak to you until you will
change your ways at once. Escort officers, return Tom Bailey to his room
and set the guard at his door, He is not to leave without escort until
tomorrow, "
Tom returned to his now silent and almost empty room, got into bed,
turned off the desk lamp and tried to go to sleep. All he could think was
that it sucked and it wasn't his fault. He finally fell asleep.
The bell woke him in the morning He didn't hear Felicia's "welcome
morning" call as she was not there. He got out of his bed, put on his
flops, grabbed his towel and soap and headed for the 7/8 shower, full of
the noise of kids in the shower, brushing teeth, sitting or standing
until he walked in and suddenly there was dead silence,
"Uh, hello," he said and everybody who could, turned away from him. He
gulped then went towards and empty stall and the two on either side,
turned off their water, and walked away. The two stood empty as Tom
showered, then brushed his teeth at a basin with two empty around his.
He walked into the noisy breakfast caf and the noise level dropped. He
stood in line and nobody spoke to him. He got his food and looked for a
free spot at a table. He looked and next to the punishment table was a
second table, this one with a small vase and a flower in it, He walked up
to see a name card Tom Bailey, He sat down and ate,
This went on for three days. Nobody said a word in class unless it was a
group thing. Then he always seemed to get signed for one of the vets, one
of the ones who grew up at Jones. Each of them did exactly what a partner
should do, no more, no less, no chit chat.
Lunch on the third day, and he sat down at his table. Suddenly he saw the
other page, the one most called "Mo," come to him, his page white waist
and shoulder belt on, walk towards him, his tray in his hand.
"I'm Nathan Mohammed. Most call me Mo. I'd like to sit with you for
lunch. This okay?"
"Sure. I'd like to have anybody talk to me."
"Do you know about Rosebud and my parents?"
"I have no idea except they're the 7/8 counselors."
"Yep. They came to Jones to try to help stop the constant war between
Jews and Muslims. Mom's still Muslim. Dad's still Jewish. Me and
Rosebud, we search around. But our folks - eighth graders - hated each
other at first. And then they saw a movie about the beginning of some
war, They'd both seen real war, but this .. well, they became my mom and
dad, and Rosebud's mom and dad.
"Me and Rosie think that maybe you can follow our mom and dad. Rosie
thinks you could be pretty cool." Mo gobbled the rest of his sandwich.
" Gotta go. I'm being called. "
Tom looked around at the students still eating, talking, joking, almost
all backs towards him, except for the ones looking at somebody blocking
their view. He held his hand up. Nothing happened except the end of lunch
noise rose a few hundred decibels. "Hands up!" he shouted but nothing
happened for some thirty seconds then a whistle, then a second, and then
a third. Silence, then Tom cried again, "Hands up!" and hands began to
rise and conversation crept to a stop. Tom felt eyes turned towards him.
"I have to say that I'm sorry. Maybe I was a bit scared. I don't know.
I'm not really a bad guy, but I guess I just didn't think, So, to all
of you, I'm sorry. Please give me another chance. Mom Rose says that we
have to do that. And her kids taught me something.
"So, I guess I have a few minutes to finish lunch," With that, he
quickly finished lunch, got up, grabbed his tray to take it to the tray
return. As he walked to the window, a girl he wasn't sure he knew came
up and took his tray from him.
"Can you meet me in PR#4 at the beginning of free time? I really need to
talk first, if that's okay. I'm Tammy,"
"I can. I will."
They did.


When I started "After the Experiment" I did not plan to have more than
between three to five more stories. Like Topsy, this has grown. With
growth came a few errors. For example, we have the line from the Teen
Swim Party "... ranging from a bald, flat 11 year old..." when the
invitation clearly states that the mandated ages are 12 to 17 so this
line should read "... ranging from a bald vagina, flat one who looked 11
. . ." Feel free to point out other errors. If I were to ever find a
paper publisher, such errors will be corrected.

Thanks.

If you liked this part of "Tales of Jones Lab School " or any of the
other Paige-Mason-Jenna stories, please consider a donation to Nifty.

Comments, pro or con to the author are always appreciated.