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.
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