Chapter 3-3
Learning Balance
Part three
I was used to writing papers, and the format was always the same. I even kept a copy of it and laminated it at the front of my binder. Where I store all the papers I have ever written with the grade, with little notes about what I needed to improve on, which were spelling and grammar. These are the very two things I really suck at. I hated looking up words in a dictionary, so I started a list of the words I use most frequently and always had to look them up. Those are the words that are added to my list. I call it a cheat sheet for dumb people like me.
We did not have computers back then, with their own spellcheck. I wish we did because I really went through a lot of white-out. I would buy it with the six-pack in strip form and liquid. Now today everything is done on the computer where all I have to do is use the backspace key when fixing the word and reprint it, instead of retyping the entire page or paper. I guess it could have been worse. I could have handwritten my papers and assignments, having the teacher circle them with red ink. Telling me they couldn't read it, and doc more points off my grade instead of getting the extra credit for it being typed.
When Mom says a rough draft, she actually means having the entire paper outlined into sections, with as much detail as the final product. It did not have to be completely finished, but it was a close replica of what the paper would look like when finished. Using the basic outline that I had learned from Dad when he was taking college courses for his new job. That really gave me the extra edge and a better grade than the other students who did not.
Which was always starting with a quick introduction or thesis statement before jumping into the main body of the paper. Then a conclusion that says or sums up what I was writing. I also kept a book on how to do letters and other important stuff. Some I created myself when it came to my assignments that were basically answering the questions from the book or a sheet the teacher had given me.
Dad was right. It would be a tasty treat for my new teacher, but a sore thumb for those who only wanted to do the bare minimum for the grade. Dad taught me to always be the one in the class that raised the bar. Most people call me "a-know-it all" or "teacher's pet" or "a nerd" with too much time on my hands.
They can call me anything they like because I'd be the one they would have to work for as I become their boss, not just a little employee working for minimum wage. And he was right because that's what actually happened. When those kids found me sitting across from them doing the interviewing to do whatever job I was hiring them for. Not the other way around.
I wasn't a fast typer by any means at the time, but neither did I hen peck the keys on a typewriter at the time. I could type anywhere from thirty to forty words a minute. Two things that helped were repetition and playing the piano. I also was getting quite good using an adding machine working in the Stringham store. Let's just say people hated me because I was ahead of the class.
I worked for three hours putting my paper together when Mom came in to check to see how I was coming. As well as give me another potent dose of two horny pills. So, I'd be ready by the time it was time to fulfill my sexual obligations. She was good with her red pin. Finding words, I had missed or need a little more detail or explanation. She preferred my typing over my handwriting because it was clear and precise and could read each word more clearly.
Instead of setting the spacing at the standard 1, I made a slight change and set it at 1 and a half, resulting in slightly more space between the text. In order to avoid overlapping of words, it is necessary to arrange them in a manner where they are not on top of each other. Taking everything into account, I want to emphasize that I was the one reading it, not the teacher. Mom asked if they docked points for that. She would give them a sample of my handwriting and a piece of her mind. Mom and Dad were always in my corner when the teacher gave me a grade they did not agree with. It did not happen a lot, but it did happen. I wasn't sure if they were more scared of Mom or my Dad.
Mom could hold her own when protecting her tiger cub, and Dad's size alone and his wild anger always made the teachers shake in fear. I had even watched a couple pee their pants. Or simply back down and change the grade stuttering, saying perhaps they were being a little too critical. Dad would grin as he stared them down and said don't let it happen again.
After Mom read my rough draft and I wrote in the changes, then it was Dad's turn. I smiled when he wanted more detail about what I did with my mermaid. Making sure they understood clearly enough and still not giving it the spice of a porn magazine, just giving them a small taste by telling them. 'After she slowly undressed me while handcuffed to the deck of the boat, she laid me down on the floor. And softly took her warm wet tongue and trailed it down my naked body. When she reached my hardening nipples, she bit softly as I moaned with anticipation.'
Mom gasped, then laughed and shrugged her shoulders, adding. "When she reached my hardened manhood."
Having Dad change the word to "penis,"
Mom changed it to "arousal," stating "Keep it clean son," then added. 'She wanted to ride me like a wild stallion, but I knew the rules and I refused to do so until my parents said I could.' Mom said if I was going to get into trouble anyway, I might as well make it count.
I was so dead, and I knew it, I said. "You do know they might send me to the principal's office and the school counselor."
Mom said. "Then they would know not to ask when you tell them the next time."
I said. "I don't think you would really want me to read this in front of the class with kids that are still dealing with their adolescence."
Mom said. "It will state clearly that you are not part of that group, and they will respect you for it," or put me in jail I thought.
Dad made sure I added my first experience of meeting my three naked mermaids. Adding a good recap of the legend of the mermaid and the lake and my first dance with real live naked women. Mom wanted me to tell them all about my heroics saving a damsel in distress and rescuing my friends.
By the time I added their suggestions to the paper, it would be about twelve pages. But it had everything in it that it covered everything of both topics. 'What I did over the summer and what I learned.' It stated clearly, I learned the art of lovemaking and the cost of being a town hero. Having girls waiting in line to tear my clothes off or wanting to kiss every inch of me or have my baby. I was so dead, but I was honest. The fact it read like a porn novel. Said Mom and Dad were going to be called the moment I read it in front of the class.
It was almost nine-thirty by the time I had finished my rough draft. Which was exactly what Mom and Dad asked me to do. All I had left was to do some reading in my textbooks. That too wouldn't take me long, considering I was a fast reader. Not as fast as I am today have taken two courses on speed reading in college. And if I got time, I could answer the questions in the back of the chapters.
I was always known to be ahead of the class. It gave me time to do other things like sports and my lovemaking and made it easier when my mother wanted to spend time with me on home visits. Mom helped me with balancing it all, creating a schedule for how long I needed to study. I always made sure to have my schoolwork done first.
Not once did she ever have to get after me for being lazy when it came to my schoolwork and getting good marks. I really liked the block schedule because made things easier. Giving me the extra day to have my homework completed, instead of having to turn it in the very next day. It was even better when I was given a longer date when it was due. Like if the teacher handed it out on Monday. Having it due on Friday or giving me the weekend to do it and would be due until Tuesday. Because of the altering days depending on if it was a three-credit class, Which would meet three days a week. Or a two-credit class, which would mean two days a week.
It was a rarity to have the same class for all five days, being a five-credit class. Even the LDS Institute was set up that way. Or if it's a major term paper, I could work on it a little bit at a time. Sometimes turning it in early, which gave me the edge to study for upcoming tests.
The other reason she came in she wanted to give me a chance to christen the tub and my new bed. Reminding me once again that bedtime was at one a.m. being a school night. I liked the idea of not going home for two reasons. One was I did not have to get up at four in the morning to shower, eat a quick breakfast and have my mother drive me the long distance in the dark. Mom did not like driving in the dark because she suffered from night blindness having her drive slower.
Now that I knew how to drive, she let me do most of it, if not all the driving, which made Susan hate me even more, because she did not have the same privileges as I did. My mother would remind her often enough that I was older than she was, not only by age but by maturity as well. Susan always felt that she was the oldest, not me, because I did not live at home. To her, I was considered an outsider or a bad house guest. Not her older brother, not part of the family. Believe me, the feeling was mutual.
Mom did not say anything when she noticed my phone was unplugged inside my desk drawer. Or the fact that Sparky made himself comfortable under my desk with his head resting on my foot. I got up to go, and he followed me. Mom had me take him outside and tie him up so he could do his thing. A bathroom was one place he did not belong.
I felt sorry for him as he whined and barked at me for tying him back up. Like I said he was having some abandonment issues. He did not understand that it was only temporary as he howled, breaking my heart as I quickly went into the house. Mom said that he really loves me because he never does that when I am not home. I noticed that the mess was cleaned up where Dad had tipped over Shawn's and Arthur's table. I did not have to ask who cleaned it up. I simply knew Shawn and Arthur did it.
I came back in after chaining up Sparky and feeding and watering the horses for the night. During the summer months, it was mostly just having to water them as they ate the field grass. We only used the hay as a trade-off, but we mostly used it during the winter. Everyone was waiting for me in the living room for family prayer, which was the norm here at home. We prayed as a family before school or before we actually started our day, and then again when we went to bed at night and before every meal.
At least not to forget our own personal prayers. Even though I had no faith that God really answered our prayers. I was still required to take part. Not even Shawn and Arthur got out of them. My place used to be in the middle of Mom and Dad. Now I was moved to be on Dad's left side as the two bad boys took my place.
Again, my mother fitted in kneeling among the sheep just like my best friends and their parents did. It was different in their homes. They only said the prayer during mealtime, unless my Mom and Dad were there long enough to have them, which was a rarity. As I said, not all LDS church-going folks are strict about their religious practices.
It was just nonexistent at my mother's house, and that never changed. According to him, he and his two daughters were living the true principles of the LDS teachings. Sometimes I wondered if the devil marked them with the numbers six, six, six. For learning more his way than towards God and his son and the LDS doctrine. It is sad to say I was more proficient with the scriptures than they were and LDS teachings and principles.
Even though I had no faith in the church or most of their doctrine, I was considered a more non-believer. But I did not treat my family and friends the way they did. I had standards, wrong or right. I did not treat my fellow man with such cruelty.
Which stated he doesn't practice what he preaches. When it came to church principles and what the LDS faith is built on, which was family being forever and love at home. I know for a fact they did not use foul language as he and my sisters did. Well, unless they became quite angry or in pain, like smashing your thumb with a hammer or a plank of wood. Which Mom always kept a swear jar handy, using the rule every time someone used foul language, or a bad word cost them five cents.
Mom and Dad would put five dollars in when they were furious, which was the maximum of letting them use unlimited cuss words. Mom used to use the same rule when it came to bickering and fighting. The more you did it the more it cost, and those were a dollar per-time or incident. Let's just say I'd had put in my share regarding Shawn, Arthur, and their friends when it came to swearing and fighting, but most of the time I was bickering. The money went towards something special the family wanted.
Instead of going straight into the tub room where all the adults old enough to have sex were; Mom and Dad wanted to spend some "quality time" with me alone. Mom told everyone else to start without us and that they wanted to spend some "quality time" with me. Having Dad oversee the formalities, as Mom completely disrobed in front of me, watching her robe fall to the ground. Unlike my mother, I did not have as many reservations about having sex with my adoptive Mom anymore. I should have, but I did not. In fact, I started to look forward to it.
Mom patted my bed, and I smiled and took the place she indicated as Dad came back into my room and closed the door. He did not have to close my bedroom door, because everyone knew I was having sex with Mom, but he and Mom wanted some alone time with me and not everyone else. The fact my mother decided not to return home at all until Sunday or Monday morning was an extra bonus for my adoptive parents. In some ways, she too was getting an extra bonus where she could have sex, not only with me but with my Rothwell brothers and Dad, my best friends, and their Dads. Without anyone back home knowing about it, personally, I thought it was all my father's fault because of the way he treated her.
Mom and Dad knew what I liked better than anyone as Mom kissed the back of my neck and trailed her warm tongue from one side to the other making me shiver with pleasure, as she removed my shirt and tossed it onto the floor near my closet. She then slowly made love to my back and shoulders, either by licking or kissing my bare skin.
Having Dad lean down and kiss me while I helped Dad take off his clothes as Mom moved down further so she could lay me down. So, Dad could remove my shorts and boxers and his own as he took my penis inside his mouth, letting us scoot more onto the bed. Dad's job was to get me hard enough so Mom could put on an open condom on me and Dad so she could have us both, for the first round of our quality time.
I liked the fact that Mom and Dad took their time with me; I knew my mother. She really did not need me when she could have all she wanted of Mr. Hastings and my best friend Charlie or Charles and my brother Jared. Jason and Jonathan were sent to bed, but I could hear them laughing as they stimulated each other in their own room next to mine and Jared's, and I was good with that. Mom and Dad let them even though it was way past their bedtime. Mom wanted to go one round of spider position, and then have Dad and me have a little fun as we both waited to regenerate with a full body massage.
When I was ready again, Mom wanted me all to herself. Mom told me to give it to her and not hold back. When I did, she responded by screaming to ensure pleasure. Letting Dad leave the room, asking me if it was ok with me if he had sex with my mother. What was I going to say … no? Unlikely, knowing for a fact my mother had been looking forward to it ever since we had come home. Once he had my approval, he left the room and closed the door. I regained my focus with Mom as she and I really made ourselves comfortable. Telling me how much she missed me not being home. I said the same thing, that I had a very hard time sleeping with my father always wanting to kill me.
After I had climaxed twice more unlike her, she climaxed at least four or five times. She hated the idea that she and I needed to attend to our guests, wanting very much to go another round with me. She sighed and wanted just a little more time, but if we did, we would both miss out on christening our new tub room.
After all, Dad did not have it built just for family or group bathing. Partly the reason was because considering our main skinny-dipping places had been destroyed. The other was it was seasonal, unlike the tub we could use it year-round. He built it so we could have wild, sensual sex together with friends and family. The regular bathtub and the shower were only used for bathing or playing naughty games. The other was built for lovemaking while we bathed in pure bliss and comfort.
I cringed when I opened the door of our new tub room, finding Shawn sitting in the corner, naked, as Dad was instructing Clara and everyone else why Shawn was in here with us. Arthur was not with him. I did not ask why I did not want him here; I did not even want Shawn here watching us with his perverted little eyes, but for the moment his face was unreadable until I watched him swallow hard when Dad said. "Shawn is here to relearn what it is like to have sex with a woman.
"Beatings don't help alone or grounding him for a lifetime. The thing that does until proven that he is beyond saving is having sex with lots of girls and women. I would include stimulating and kissing boys, but I am more afraid that would hinder him rather than change his perspective. We would allow Arthur the same privilege, but I am afraid that his mind can't understand why or what the difference is.
"If you don't want to, my wife and I will understand, but I am begging you to help my son. I don't want to make that final decision where I have to put him down like an animal, too far gone to help. One of the main reasons me and my family left the nudist community was we did not believe in killing children."
All the women in the room agreed, including Clara. The idea of Shawn having sex with any of them disgusted me, but I was in no position to go against Mom and Dad's wishes. I hoped and prayed my mother wouldn't even participate but knowing her. A penis was a penis, and it meant putting Shawn back on the road to preferring girls rather than boys. I had no doubt that she would participate.
She, too, did not like the idea of people killing children in such a brutal manner. I questioned what was worse… him having sex or him being slaughtered? True prison would have been the better choice hands down, but I had no say in the matter.
The fact I hated him only made things worse. I watched his eyes focus on my penis. It wasn't hard yet, considering I had just finished having amazing sex with Mom. It did not bother me having Greg, Dillon, Chad and my other best "boy" friends look at it or want to stimulate me.
It was the idea why Shawn and Arthur wanted our penises, and it was more than just stimulating us orally or by hand. They wanted us to put it inside of their butts and as well as doing the same to us. Neither was going to happen. I also knew by watching them on tape, that they did not like being kissed or kissing period, or actually cuddling or foreplay like having intimate moments of showing their love for each other as best friends. All they wanted was the rough and hard gay sex, quick and dirty and angry sex with each other's butts.
I climbed into the tub filled with bubble bath that smelled of lemon and a hint of oranges. Not my favorite, because it made my mouth pucker when I thought about eating a raw lemon. I watched as Dad opened the sliding glass door as he quickly manhandled Shawn out to the wooden deck and told him to pee, waiting for him to do it. The way he said it was cruel, and the undertone was he better do it or face the monster inside of him. I watched as he did so. Dad made sure he was completely dry as he stroked his penis. Warning him if he did so while bathing with us or having sex with any of the women, he would regret it.
I watched his eyes widen in fear as he nodded. Cupping his balls and his penis that hadn't maintained a hardened state. He then told him to climb into the tub with the rest of us. Dad had already explained that he wanted him to bathe with us for two reasons. One was, so they knew he was clean and groomed properly before having sex. The other was so he could feel what it is like to be part of us, hoping he would prefer our company over having sex with boys.
Arthur was unstable, and I knew it had more to do with him not being accepted as part of the family. One of the reasons he wears a diaper now is because he is angry with us and thinks by messing in his pants is a way to get back at us. The thing he doesn't understand is all that does is make it harder for him to be a part of our family. It's understandable when you're a toddler or a baby, or even when you're five, six, and seven doing it by accident. Arthur wasn't in that group class. He was seventeen, not some child.
Retarded, yes, but not totally. If he was, he would be in a home or at a mental institution. Not going to public school and living in a home as a foster kid. Mom used to say the people that did were angels trapped inside those bodies. She doesn't cry anymore when she sees them out in public as she used to. Arthur had ruined that and taken it away, with his anger at not letting him do what he wanted. Which was to have sex with boys, not girls but boys.