by Ema Bancroft
I froze, my eyes sparkling at Elijah as I waited for them all to discover my secret.
It looked like hours while the clock on the wall was ringing out loud. Elijah wasn't helpful. His eyes widened, and I knew he was struggling to find some way to deflect attention away from me.
Surprisingly, it was Rocket who came to rescue me.
"You should know, you lame idiot,"he said to Ethan with a smile. "The only way to get a girl to go home with you is to pick her up and take her home."
Everybody started laughing, so I laughed. Elijah breathed a breath through his lips before adding,"It usually involves kicking and screaming...".
"All right, all right,"Carlos said with a pinched look. "If you're finished, can we get back to work, please?"
He took a few more pictures, and then returned his camera to the tripod.
We traded overalls for street clothes. My punching wife and cock sock worked perfectly, although I had to work harder not to blush when Elijah took off his shirt to change. I tried to think of the time when on Thanksgiving I caught my great-aunt Tamara and my great-uncle James kissing in the bathroom... with their teeth?
It worked like a charm. Although I felt a little dizzy.
I ended up in a black T-shirt, jeans and a black leather jacket. The boys wore similar clothes - t-shirts and sweatshirts... Elijah wore a jeans jacket with torn sleeves on his muscle shirt?
He looked really good. I tried not to drool.
We returned to the set, rolling a series around the water cooler, and then lay down on the floor with our heads together. Carlos climbed onto a scaffold to step over us so he could shoot looking down, and then huddled with other guys behind a computer screen to examine the photos we had taken so far. We relaxed a little bit, tapping the table to get something to eat. I grabbed a bottle of water.
"Guys! "Carlos called us back on the set. "It looks great so far. Let's get another game around the car... then we'll lose the shirts.
Wait... what?
You lost your shirts? Like the shirts we were wearing? This wasn't right.
I shot a panicky look at Elijah. He looked just as scared.
We were so fucked up.
E. C.
We were so fucked up.
I should have known things were going too well. Daisy gave the go-ahead to the interview. We had dealt with the problem of changing costumes in the photo shoot quite well, in my opinion.
The whole sock thing was a bit of a debacle, but other than that.
I mean, I ended up with a sock that had been in Daisy's vagina, so it wasn't a total loss. Of course, it was quite embarrassing when I grabbed her and tried to fit her while she was still in her underwear. I had my hands all over Daisy's pussy... well, all over the sock that was on her pussy. I didn't even think about what I was doing at first, but once I did, little Henry caught my eye and was ready to get out of the damn room to hide that fact. Seriously, what kind of sick person takes a girl's pussy to adjust her fake dick and gets totally excited?
Fortunately, Daisy didn't seem to notice my predicament. She seemed a little embarrassed, however, and I hoped she wouldn't think I was some kind of sock maniac. She didn't even look at me for a while.
Well, until I got hit in the eye with my sock. Then she was all over me. It was actually nice.
I guess I should have known it couldn't last forever.
We were almost done with the photo shoot and Carlos decided that we needed T-shirt free photos. It's not unusual, so I should have known he was coming. However, kicking myself wasn't doing Daisy any good. And I had no fucking idea how to save her.
She'd actually gotten pretty good about keeping her shirt on. The wife beater was a good trick. I only realized it when I found out that Tim was Daisy who always wore one, even when we were in the pool. I also noticed that even though the rest of us were swimming, Daisy just hung her feet in the water, grabbing her cell phone with her hand saying she was expecting a call - or holding her laptop computer saying she was writing a song. She did it with such indifference that I didn't even realize I'd never been in the pool before.
The girl was pretty soft.
But this--this was a totally different fucking scenario. And from the look on her face, Daisy had no idea how to deal with it.
Carlos shot while we were moving around the car in different poses.
Finally, it stopped.
"Okay, guys... lose your shirts,"he ordered, turning his finger in the air and assuming a boring pose.
Of course, Roland hit his right and was on the floor doing push-ups before Carlos finished talking. Ethan and Raul took off their hooded sweatshirts and began to take off their shirts, and Daisy slipped the leather jacket she wore on her shoulders with hesitation.
I had to do something.
But what is it?
Daisy folded her jacket carefully, placing it on a chair and playing with the edge of her shirt. She bit her lip and started tearing it off.
"No! "I screamed, sounding a little hysterical. All my eyes sparkled. "I... don't want to,"I added, trying to calm down and take a tone of"I don't give a shit without sounding like a six-year-old crybaby.
Daisy's eyes flitted around the group. She looked like she was holding her breath. I was hoping she wouldn't faint or anything. As if I didn't have enough to deal with at the time. Everyone else looked at me like I was insane. Maybe I went... a little?
Carlos was the first to speak. I guess the rest of them were too dazed. "Don't you want to do it? " He repeated.
I swallowed and shrugged. "I'm tired... of feeling like a piece of meat,"I said indignantly, folding my arms across my chest. The boys kept looking at me like I was talking in Chinese. "I mean... I'm a person, you know? Not just a sexual object."
Ethan blinked and I told him to ask me where my vagina was. Instead, his eyes narrowed and he turned to Carlos. "You know what? "he said. "E. C. is right. We're musicians... not an eye candy. "He took off his shirt."
Roland was still doing push-ups, apparently unaware of what was going on around him... or maybe he just wanted to make sure his pecs were ready in case he lost this battle...
A rocket hit his Mohawk. "I ate four cheeseburgers last night, and I don't think I want to take my shirt off either. I feel a little bloated.
"Oh, my God, so am I,"Daisy said. She quickly added,"I don't want females to see these abs today,"and patted her on the stomach.
Carlos was stunned for a moment in our petty little boobiness. Roland finally appeared, flexing his biceps and pricking his chest with his index fingers. "I'm fine,"he said, breaking his neck.
Carlos shook his head. "Forget it,"he muttered. "Change your track suits and let's wrap this motherfucker up. " He turned to leave, grumbling about "divas" and "assholes" and "not needing this shit.
Daisy showed me a winning smile when no one else looked up and made my stomach turn.
He may look like an idiot, but it was worth it.
Daisy
Elijah was my hero.
He went ahead when I least expected him and saved me when I thought he was dead.
I was scared when Carlos told us to take our shirts off. I thought it was over. Headline flashes, trials and jail cells popped into my head and I was pretty sure I heard the "Cops"theme.
Bad guys, bad guys... what are you gonna do? What are you gonna do when they come for you?
I imagine them chasing me through the alley and cornering me with an overflowing garbage dump while I begged that I couldn't do time... that it wasn't my fault... that the shit was my bitch's...
Well, maybe I was getting a little carried away, but I got scared to death.
Elijah came, however, and when he confronted Carlos, I felt my heart melt in my chest. It was all I could do to stay away from him, grab that denim jacket with the sleeves cut off and pull it down to give him a big, hot kiss.
If my sock cock were real, I'd have adjusted it to that thought.
I shook my head to clear it of ridiculous thoughts as
we walked towards the dressing room grills to get our track suits. I was surprised when Roland threw me aside.
"I can help you, you know,"he whispered.
"What?"
He nodded toward the set. "I know what that was all about. I know E. C. I was covering for you,"he said.
My stomach fell out. Roland knew it. He was gonna get me out. I couldn't form words, so all I said was,"Uhhhhhhh..."
"All right,"he muttered shrugging his shoulders. "I was like you once, you know?"
Wait, Roland was a girl? My eyes fell out of his own will into his crotch. Looks like he definitely wore a tube sock. Maybe one of those thick, wool, creepers. It seemed very real. I almost touched her.
"Tim? Roland's quiet voice made me turn my eyes to his face. "I want to help you."
"Really? " My eyes turned to where the other kids were changing. Rocket and Ethan were ignoring us, but Elijah was watching closely as he tried to pretend he wasn't watching us closely.
Yeah. He did that a lot.
"I know what it is," Roland whispered,"to feel that your body is wrong. To be ashamed."
"Well, it's not that I'm embarrassed..." I started. Did Roland think she was a girl trapped in some guy's body? Okay, this was starting to get weird.
"It will take commitment,"he continued. "You have to decide to do it for you... not for anyone else"?
"Ummm... I don't know, Roland..." I was reeling and unsure how to get out of this extraordinarily uncomfortable conversation?
"One hour a day, six days a week at first,"he said firmly. "We'll work from there. Plus, you have to try these protein shakes my trainer bought me. They will really pack the pounds.
Now I was seriously confused. "Huh?"
"It'll take some time, but it'll be worth it. " He broke his neck, slightly flexing his pecs. "You won't be afraid to take your shirt off anymore."
A light bulb lit up my head. "You talk about exercise,"I said with relief.
"It will have to be a diet and exercise program,"he explained. "You have to treat your body like your instrument, you know? " He smiled with a smile, flexing his biceps.
I smiled. "Of course."
"But if you're willing to take the time, we can make it look good,"he added. "Teared abdomen, accumulate that chest..."
I smothered a giggle, thinking about the girls. "All right."
"Great. " Roland patted me on the back, and I bumped into the impact a little bit. However, he didn't seem to notice, so we walked to change our clothes and breathed a sigh of relief. But the sigh got stuck in my throat as I realized what I had just accepted.
Crap. I was gonna have to exercise.
0
After the photo shoot, the boys wanted to go out, but I said I felt sick and tried to send Elijah a message with my eyes. He must have gotten it, because he told them he was tired and just wanted to work on a new song before he went to bed. They left us in the city centre and took us in a limousine to a bar, leaving Elijah and me alone in the house.
I turned to him, nerves twisting in the mouth of my stomach. We hadn't really been too lonely, and I wondered what was going to happen.
I mean, I knew what I wanted to happen. I wasn't quite sure if Elijah wanted the same thing.
It was weird, but Elijah seemed a little nervous, too. His ears were red and he rubbed his neck as his eyes met mine, and then fell to the floor.
"Do you want something to drink? " he asked, moving into the kitchen.
"Yeah… sure. "I nodded my head and sat on the counter while he drew two bottles of water from the refrigerator. He gave me one and leaned against the counter in front of me while I was drinking. I stared at him as his throat moved from top to bottom, and I swallowed him like a small squirt coming out of the corner of his mouth and falling down his neck.
"What's going on? " He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Nothing,"I muttered, taking a sip of my own bottle. I wanted to thank you... for today... for everything. Especially about the shirts."
The side of Elijah's mouth rose slightly. "Pleasure,"he said. "And what happened to Roland after all that? " He asked as he placed his bottle on the counter and played with his lid.
"Oh, that. " I laughed. "He wants to help me with a training regimen so I'm not too afraid to take my shirt off."
Elijah had taken a sip of water, and drowned a little while swallowing. "Don't tell me?"
I nodded my head. "You think you can help me have more confidence in my body."
Elias smiled with a smile and surrounded the island to stand beside me. "Really? " His voice lowered a little, and it tickled my skin.
"Uh huh," I replied, a little breathless. "He said he can help me tear my abs and lift my chest."
Elijah bowed, his breath tickled in my ear as he whispered,"I like your chest as it is.
I said something clever like,"Aaaieeemmbh..."
Elijah chuckled. "By the way, you were very well today,"he muttered, reaching out to take my hand off the counter and put my back to the stool, so I was facing him. He walked between my knees, resting his hands on my hips.
"Do you think so?"
Elijah nodded. "Definitely. " His gaze darkened slightly as his eyes flashed towards my lips. "Daisy..."
"Hmmm...? " I took a little bit of your rough tone.
"I really want to kiss you."
"Really?"
"Uh huh. " He had lowered his face slightly, so he could barely feel the brush on his lips as he breathed.
My fingers twisted his hair at will. His hair was like a soft, sexy, fingertip magnet. "Are you going to do it? " I whispered.
Elijah licked his lips, but he was so close to me that the tip of his tongue grazed my mouth, sending me a chill.
"Uh huh," he finally said, just before I stopped to meet him.
Chapter 4
Chapter 4 - You drive me crazy
Daisy
Roland Weaver is the spawn of Satan.... if not the devil himself...
Seriously, the guy comes out as all sweet and innocent... the guy, shy guy next door.... but inside it had a sadistic streak a mile wide.
And at that particular moment, all his malicious and malicious inner demon was focused on me.
"Don't be such a coward, Tim. " He whispered the word "pussy,"even as he growled the rest of it, his thick eyebrows meeting above his nose as he frowned. He hovered over me in a pair of shorts and a muscular shirt. His bulging arms crossed over his chest and his thick legs spread apart as I studied my form in the bench press.
At six o' clock in the fucking morning and I was at the gym with Roland Weaver.
Fuck. My. Life.
Not only had he and the other kids arrived home early, interrupting my little kissing session in the kitchen with Elijah the night before, but Roland had found it necessary to prowl around, saying that I should go to bed because we were going to start my new exercise regimen the next morning.
Elijah had given me a nice smile and headed to his own room, taking with him two bags full of fries, which seemed a little strange to me, but maybe he had night-time cravings or something. Anyway, my time alone with Elijah was brutally short.
All the more reason to hate Roland.
Of course, I couldn't let him come and drag me out of bed, so I got up at 5:30... five and a half... to prepare my Hartmann bandage and my dick sock, my attitude darkened constantly with every minute...
The only saving grace was the fact that we didn't have to leave the house. There was a fully equipped gymnasium in the basement, so it was just a quick trip down the stairs.
To the torture chamber.
I stared at Roland, pushing with all my might the handles of the bank printing machine.
"Five more,"the Dark Lord commanded.
I pushed, snarled and groaned and groaned through the rest of the set, exhaling strongly with the last repetition and leaving my exhausted arms hanging down to the floor.
"God, how much was that?
"I asked, thinking it had
to be about a hundred pounds. My arms were severely worn out.
Roland stared at the pile of weights. "Twenty-five,"he replied, turning to the weight rack and selecting a game before turning to me.
"Twenty-five"? I repeated, sitting on the bench and still unable to raise my arms. "Are you sure you're reading this right? " I put suspicious eyes on him. Maybe the asshole had a hidden weight on his back or something. I wouldn't miss it.
"Time for the curls,"he said sharply, holding the weights.
Reluctantly, I summed up all my strength to raise my hands and wrap them around the weights. Roland released them and they fell to the ground, throwing me with them.
"Shit! " I exclaimed from my position on my hands and knees. Roland only turned his eyes when I stood up, leaving the hand weights on the floor. "They're too heavy,"I said.
"They only weigh three kilos."
"Give me the five."
"Tim, you've got to try a little hard."
"I'm pushing myself! " I growled at him. "Give me the five!"
Roland gave me an exasperated sigh and gave me the weights of five pounds, making a spectacle of picking up the dozens in one hand and putting them back on the shelf. He glanced at me ironically as he picked up his own weights, and I frowned as I compared its enormous size with my five-pound weights.
Yeah. This must be what I felt when a guy had a very small penis. My eyes went inadvertently to Roland's crotch, comparing it to my unimpressive dick sock.
It seemed like I lost on that front, too. It's not like I cared about that kind of thing.
A lot.
The sweat spilled into my eyes when I somehow found the strength to lift the weights up and down. Roland didn't even breathe much while he was snuggling next to me. It moved easily to triceps exercises and I kept going, my muscles burning with fatigue and my mind running with ideas for revenge.
I looked at it surreptitiously. I could shave his head in his sleep. Nah. You'd probably like Mr. Clean will look good.
My eyes fell back. I could shave him there. Ugh. The thought made me tremble with fear. No revenge was worth coming into close contact with the little... errr... maybe not so little Roland?
It was in the middle of a complicated plan that included rubber gloves, Nair, raw meat and a Rottweiler when Roland finally announced that we were done.
