Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Spanner 10.4: Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge

...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 10: Fashion Meltdown
Part 4: Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge (Revision 3)

25 september 2014.
class time.
Under a full moon shortly after midnight on November 5, 1998, Irish gothpunk singer Suzanne Taylor Brinkman (daughter of Governor Wally, though they have been on strictly screaming terms for years) gave birth to twins fathered by her lover and then-husband, footballer Ian Shelley. First, a beautiful little black-haired baby girl popped out of the womb of Taylor Brinkman. Already she strongly intuited that the newborn would grow up to be an exotic creature, so she gave her the exotic name Leila Renata, blatantly neither Gaelic nor English. An equally beautiful little boy followed her; she named him Robert Louis after her favorite literary Scot whose name is not Byron. (Taylor laughs at the rumor that she named her son after Robert Smith, lead singer of the Cure, whenever it inevitably comes up.)

Taylor Brinkman is the sister of Ariel Shield, a big smoke in the Grail Conspiracy who, ashamed at her neocon father, takes her family name from their scandalous Irish mother. This makes her a Black Princess, descended from Jesus by the female line (or “bar sinister” in the ancient language of heraldry now understood only by historians and Anachronists). The Black Princesses are closely associated with the legendary Holy Grail and are considered by some to be the Grail Family itself. Legendary punk rocker Rat Scabies is more famous today for Rat Scabies and the Holy Grail than he ever was for setting drumkits on fire while playing on stage with the Damned, so of course he became godfather to Taylor’s newborn twins and the redheaded younger sister named Fiona who arrived a year and a half later.

“It sounds weird,” says Leila after explaining it to the rest of Team Bremelo, “but sometimes truth is stranger than fiction, and everything I’ve just said is true.”

“So why are they calling you ‘Eurotrash’?” asks Polly cheerily.

Leila sighs. “Because I sometimes dress, or undress, like my mother. I was never really fond of clothes, actually. I have really sensitive skin, and clothes tend to make me itch or rub me sore. Still, some people take a look at me and judge me by my clothes and don’t even give me a second thought after that. They just throw a label like ‘Eurotrash’ at me and dismiss me as so much shallow ‘trash.’”

“They’re just shallow people themselves,” says Jennifer. “They happen to think they’re deep and other people are shallow, especially people prettier than they are who wear strange clothes, just because they’re higher in the social hierarchy than we are. It’s one of my pet peeves.”

Leila gets out of her chair and goes to Jennifer, who stands up to meet her, and they hug. Shira gets up and hugs her from behind. Stunned at such unaccustomed affection, Leila sighs. “You don’t think I’m ‘trash,’ do you?”

“Of course not, Leila.” Jennifer kisses her on the cheek; Shira then kisses her on the other cheek. “We love you, and we want to be your friends.”

“Thank you. I think I’m falling in love with you already. Not just you and Shira. All of you.” Tears start to form at the corner of Leila’s eyes.

Then Rex Corson rudely interrupts. “Hey, you girls going lesbian on me?”

Team Bremelo all laugh at him hard.

Shira gets control of herself and smirks wickedly. “I think he wants to see a donkey show,” she mocks.

“Let’s get him a six-pack of cerveza and some Tijuana pornos,” adds Cory. “Then he can have a donkey show.”

They laugh even harder. Rex starts to blush in embarrassment. Shira puts her hands on her hips and says to him, “Oh, you prudes. You can’t tell the difference between a friendly hug and a sex show.” She raises her arms in mock frustration. “You people just don’t know how to be friends. You can’t romance, either, which is why you people are so keen on banning divorce, because your marriages all suck.”

Leila inserts herself between flustered Rex and mocking Shira. “I don’t think you’re such a glutton for punishment that you want to get thrashed by us yet again. So I suggest you leave us alone. Okay?” She smiles sweetly to signal that much hurt will be coming his way if he doesn’t.

“Have it your way, Shelley.” Rex hits Leila’s sternum repeatedly with his pointed finger; she doesn’t flinch. “But don’t blame me if you get yourselves into deep, deep doo-doo.” He hurries away.

Shira caresses Leila on the shoulder. “Maybe your sensitive skin doesn’t like clothes, but I’m sure your bare skin loves being stroked by hands.”

Leila laughs. “You’re right! Maybe we can find somewhere more private so you can put your hands on me?”

“Now there’s an idea! Let’s go, lover.” She puts her arm around Leila, kisses her on the lips, and leaves arm in arm with her.

During class time and between classes, Shira and Leila make every excuse to absent themselves so they can make love. During classes, they make love in restrooms and music rooms and behind the drama club scenery; between classes, they make love in janitorial closets and library study rooms. The danger of getting caught only makes it that much more exciting. Even in public situations, they steal kisses every chance they get. They leave no doubt in anybody’s mind but the most clueless that they are an item and there’s nothing they can do about it.

principal’s office. The Principal tells Shira sternly through his smirk, “You know making out is against the Rules. You’ve been pushing it even farther than that, Miss Thomas. It is in fact illegal to make out with someone of your own gender. It is illegal because it is against everything that is moral.”

Shira answers with a mocking look. “I’m sorry to inform you, Mr. Principal, but love has no respect for your arbitrary and irrational prejudices in the form of laws, nor for the Eugenics Institute that enforces them in such terrorist fashion. Besides, would you want to inflict a child on such a notoriously unstable and violent young creature as Leila Shelley? That one partner is a mudblood, the other is a Eurotrash lunatic, and both are pretty women is nothing to Cupid. He only laughs at you pious Real Americans who try to shoot him down. Love is the expression of nature. Poets describe it in terms of chemistry and magnetism. You people’s terrorist attempts to stop it only tell me that you’re trying to create a loveless world. Besides [flashes Incorporation badge], I already bought my Exception years ago, and if it comes to that, I’ll buy one for Leila on her grandfather the Governor’s coin so I can make her my wife and we can be together forever. Got that?”


“Glad you agree. Now you will leave us alone and let us be together, or I’ll call my lawyer and you will have trouble indeed. Goodbye, Principal Principal.” She takes Leila in her arms and kisses her gently on the lips. The Principal chuckles nervously; Freddy laughs at him. Then she takes her by the hand and leads her out the door.

lunch. There’s a stage in the cafeteria built for public announcements and the occasional public performance. Rumor whispers of another purpose (public punishment and humiliation), but one does not speak of such things in public.

Charmian’s aristocratic presence graces the stage as she prepares to speak. Shira sneaks up onto the stage by the right-side stairway with a light and fluffy lemon meringue pie in her left hand. Charmian notices the giggles and the “oh my god” expressions, but she doesn’t realize somebody’s there until it’s already too late and a grinning Shira is right behind her. She turns to confront the interloper, but she’s already too late: Shira slams the pie into her face. In the audience: screams, giggles, howls of laughter. Shira hops to the front of the stage and bows to her audience. They cheer and boo. She yells mischievously, “Thank you, thank you! No applause, just money!”

In the hallway after lunch, Charmian and her yes girls barge right in front of Shira. Traces of lemon meringue still stick to the council president’s uniform despite multiple applications of a moist towel. “I hope you know that was gross insubordination, which is quite the punishable offense.”

Shira pretends to whimper like a whipped slave. “Yez, mizza.” The yes girls giggle.

“Shira, I’m serious! I could have you expelled for this! I’ve got connections like you’ll never have!”

Shira dips down knock-kneed, throws her head back, puts the back of her left hand on her forehead, and gasps. “I am pale, Charmian!”

The laughs around them reveal that a growing crowd of students have gathered to watch the school’s princess regnant confront her prankster nemesis yet again, and as usual they are not disappointed. Charmian does not want to entertain the crowd yet again, so she storms off, shouting, “You are so busted again, Thomas!”

Shira yells back, “And I am so getting away with it yet again, Princess!”

locker room. After school, Charmian decides that she doesn’t need a shower, especially with Shira around, and drives her sisters right home in a huff. Shira and Leila have the girls’ locker room all to themselves.

Even before the locker room door closes, they throw off their clothes as fast as they can. Not bothering to pick them up, they race together into the nearest shower up front and turn it on cold. They shriek and giggle as the cold water hits them uncomfortably. They keep it cold till they shiver violently, then turn it up as hot as they can bear it.

They wash each other’s bodies with their hands. But the soap’s really an excuse for them to grope each other all over, attack each other’s erogenous zones, and masturbate each other into a screaming orgasm. Elsie gapes at them in absolute surprise through the window of her office, but does nothing to stop them. She wants to watch.

They take two of the extra soft towels Charmian prefers and dry each other off. Then Shira takes another out of the bin, and they run over to Shira’s locker near the exit, giggling as they admire each other’s bouncing breasts. Shira drapes the towel over the bench. Then she jumps up and down to bounce her breasts so that Leila can see them. “I love female breasts! I love to watch them bounce! Jump, Leila! I wanna see yours bounce too!” Leila jumps up and down so Shira can see her breasts bounce. “Yeah! That’s so beautiful!” They smile huge and giggle and watch each other’s breasts bounce liquidly and tremble with desire for each other. They throw themselves into each other’s embrace and jump up and down and kiss passionately and hard.

Leila lies down onto the towel on the bench. Shira straddles the bench so she can gaze up Leila’s beautiful nude body. “God, Leila, you’re so gorgeous. I want to look at you all the time. Will you swear to me never to wear any clothes when we’re alone together?”

Leila eagerly nods. “Yes! I swear!”

“Of course, that’ll be easy at my place, ’cuz our family make a practice of never wearing anything at home.”

“It’ll be even easier once you know how much I hate clothes. If I could get away with going nude in public all the time, I would.”

“I don’t just love you anymore. I like you.”

“Now hurry up and make love to me before I go mad.”

Shira slides closer to Leila, leans over, grabs her breasts and squeezes them hard repeatedly. Leila squeals and screams in delight. “Yes! Yes!”

Impatiently, Shira says “Aw, fuck it” and gets on top of her, 69. For a whole hour, they make love without stopping, driving each other to ever greater extremes of sexual ecstasy, losing all track of time. Then at the exact same time they decide they’ve had enough for now. Shira spins her body on top of Leila’s till their faces are together and their lips meet and they kiss long and hard.

Elsie clears her throat nearby. They look up and see that she’s already dressed for the talent show. She checks her watch and says, “It’s almost time.”

Shira and Leila gasp. They get up off the bench, take the now drenched towel with them and throw it into the dirty towel bin, rush into the showers but separately so they can clean up quick. They take the first towels they reach for in the bin, dry themselves off quickly, throw those towels into the dirties bin, put their clothes back on as fast as possible, and race out the door toward the auditorium and its dressing rooms.

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Copyright © 2011 Dennis Jernberg. Some rights reserved.
Creative Commons License

[Revision 2, 8/2/11.]
[Revision 3, 10/25/11: Text revisions and corrections.]

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