destiny

suspicion immediately fell upon the most
insatiable masturbator of the bunch.
his name really was jack, and his
middle initial really was "o."
and his last name really was "quick".
well, as was indicated earlier,
suspicion immediately fell
upon jack o. quick.
someone had spurted cum onto the
beds of three other
boys on the hall.
it was a small private
school, situated up in the
mountains, where free spirit
was encouraged and free thinking
was certainly appreciated --
but, still, masturbating
onto someone else's
bed: this was NOT considered cool.
so, jack o. quick was called
into the headmaster's office,
where he was formally accused
of the crime of spurting cum
onto the beds of the
three boys whose beds
had been so defiled.
jack o. quick did not
deny that he
was the one who had done
the deed. the headmaster
suggested compulsory therapy.
so that's the way it went.
jack sat there
in the therapist's office,
talking to the therapist,
a somewhat-dowdy old woman with
kind eyes but yellow teeth.
"so why did you masturbate
onto the beds of those three
boys?" she asked.
"they are the three most attractive
boys on the hall," replied
jack. "and i was imagining
that i was actually masturbating
onto their exposed naked
chests, and not just
onto their exposed naked mattresses."
"i see," said his therapist.
"these are very good-looking
boys," said jack.
"i see," said his therapist.
"VERY good-looking boys," added jack.
"well," said his therapist. "i suggest
that you don't masturbate onto
their personal property any more.
rather, i suggest
that you masturbate
in a more socially acceptable
manner, and clean up
after you are done.
ok?"
jack o. quick sat there
smiling the goofiest
eeriest smile you could
imagine. "ok," he said.
"fine," said his therapist.
"see me in one week," she added.
"fine," said jack.
all during the next week,
jack did his masturbating
alone in his own bed, and used
lots of tissues to clean
up, or out
on walks alone in the woods,
where he spurted his cum
onto the bark of obliging
trees.
a week went by.
"how's it going?"
asked his therapist.
"i masturbated in my own
bed, alone, and out in the woods."
"i see," said his
therapist.
"no more masturbating
onto other people's beds, then?"
"nope," said jack. "none of
that."
"excellent," said his therapist.
suddenly jack burst into tears.
"i really do love those three
boys," he said. "all three
of them. but they don't like
me at all. they don't want
anything to do with me."
"i understand," said his
therapist. "you are going
through a difficult period
in your life. we'll be
having these kinds of discussions
for quite a few months, i suspect."
"months?" said jack.
"oh yes," said his therapist.
"perhaps even during the whole time
that you are
enrolled here."
jack sat there spacing out,
dreaming his dreams of
actual sexual interactions with
the three boys whose beds
he had defiled. "can we at least
have milk and cookies during
these sessions?" jack asked.
"oh i think that can
be easily arranged," his therapist replied.
"chocolate chip?" jack inquired.
"certainly," she replied. "they
are my favorite, too."
right then and there,
jack decided that, though
his future was troubling,
he was going to make it afterall.
and, at that moment,
"optimism" became
his middle name.
instead of, well,
you know, "off".


--Carl Miller Daniels (December 7, 2008)