Chapter Eighteen - Disciplining Kathleen
With other apparent plans for Kathleen, they both removed their socks. Joey used his socks to tie her wrists to the bed posts, while Stephen used his socks to tie her ankles. Watching them so control her by tying her up like that, they shocked the shit out of me. Even though I had just gotten blown and laid by Kathleen, even though I wasn't a virgin anymore, these two sex fiends were way ahead of me in their kinky fetishes. I don't know what porn magazine they've been reading, but I'm never seen this in any Playboy magazine that I read, of a woman being tied to the bed. It just seemed wrong. If Kathleen wasn't seemingly enjoying being tied up, I would have pulled the plug.
"Oh, you dirty little boys," she said smiling without resisting. "I didn't know you two had it in you to play this kind of sexy game. Oh, dear me. Help, help," she laughed, "I'm helpless against you two," she said with a laugh. "Help," she joked. "Help me. Someone help me," she said while feigning resistance by pulling against her binds.
Suddenly, I imagined Kathleen tied to a train track by the villain with a train bearing down upon her, while the hero stood helplessly by watching things unfold. Powerless to do anything, going along with my friends, I felt helpless to intercede on her behalf without being considered a wimp and called a coward and a chicken. Normally back then, from watching one too many reruns, this is where Superman makes his appearance or Roy Rogers or the Lone Ranger and Tonto saves the day.
Yet, seemingly just a little foreplay, it was all okay because Kathleen didn't seem alarmed. I was more shocked than she was, that she was tied to the bedposts. Maybe she's done this sort of thing before. Nonetheless my shock and her being a good sport, she played along with the sudden bondage and with them. She appeared to be enjoying it and, even being so tied, she still seemed to be in control. So, who am I to complain or even question Joey and Stephen's sudden need for a bit of bondage?
"I'm all tied up. Help. I'm all a thither now," she said playing along with their game of bondage. She looked up at them with her big, blue eyes. A sight to behold, even though she had been so fucked over by Ralph, Anthony, and I, seeing her naked and tied to the bed, she was still quite the beauty to behold. "So, what do you have in mind, boys, what do you have in mind? What's next in your dirty little perverted mind? What will you make me do tied up that I wouldn't do unbound?"
She laughed and I laughed with her. She was right. Willing to do anything sexual to anyone, I don't think Joey and Stephen could shock her. The shoe was always on the other foot with Kathleen. No doubt, having already lived a wild and carefree life, she was no one's fool.
Joey, the little pervert that he's always been, grabbed one of Kathleen's kerchiefs and blindfolded her with it.
"We're going to play a little game called pain and pleasure," he said looking at the rest of us and laughing.
No doubt, a game he had played before, I wondered if this was a game he had learned from his mother. Maybe, she tied him up and had sex with him. Maybe, he tied her up and had sex with her. No doubt, definitely, by all the things he had confessed to us about his mother flashing him and him flashing his mother, home schooled, this sexual game of pain and pleasure was learned at home. With his mother being just as crazy as he was, I could just imagine his Mom tying little Joey to the chair and giving him pain, if he didn't eat his food, do his homework, or give her an orgasm.
"Being tied and blindfolded is fun and I like the pleasure part, but I have a low tolerance for pain," said Kathleen with a nervous laugh.
Suddenly, knowing Joey as I do, I was a little worried, too. Not the submissive type, I saw a flash of fear in Kathleen's eyes and I was at the ready to spare her the pain, if this game got out of control. Maybe from watching one too many Alfred Hitchcock films, I was already expecting the worst from my twisted, little friend..
"One of us will do something to your body and if you guess who it is, you'll receive pleasure. Only, if you guess wrong, you'll receive pain."
With the odds already stacked against her, the chances of her guessing which one of us giving her pleasure was a 5-1 long shot, whereas the chances of her not guessing correctly and getting pain was four out of five.
"Okay, this has gone far enough," she said struggling against her wrist and ankle ties. "I'm not into pain. I don't want to play any game that involves pain. All my relatives are pacifists and I'm the biggest baby when it comes to—Ow! Hey, that fucking hurt!" She yelled, when Joey slapped her naked thigh with his hand.
"If you're going to play my game of pain and pleasure, you must learn the rules," he said with a sick laugh.
"I don't want to play your game," she said struggling to free herself.
Joey grabbed her hairbrush from her dresser and had Stephen push her over on her side. Then, without any warning, he slapped her ass with the back of her hairbrush really hard.
"Shut up, Bitch," he said, "or you'll get another one!"
What the fuck? Little Joey, the pervert, had turned into a deviant demon. He was angry, no doubt, angry with women, angry at his mother, and angry with being gay, no doubt. Only, he was taking out his anger on the wrong person. He was taking out his hostility on Kathleen, by hitting my dream woman, my Maureen O'Hara.
"Hey, come on Joey," I said. "What the fuck? Untie her. She's had enough. She's sore and tired. We're all tired. I just want to go home."
"Stay out of this Freddie. This is our turn with her," he said pointing the hairbrush at me, as if it was a gun. He made a move towards me, as if he was threatening shoot me or hit me with the hairbrush. That would be the last thing he'd ever do, hit me with a hairbrush. I'd break his wimpy arm and stick the hairbrush where the sun don't shine. Only, he'd probably enjoy the hairbrush being stuck up his ass. "You guys have been hogging her all freaking day," he said with a repressed, red faced anger that scared everyone into silence.
In all the years of Joey being Joey, we never saw him acting like this. As if he was a pampered, pet dog that reverted into a wild wolf with the possessiveness of protecting his bone, he was a madman. With us being just five 18-year-old boys barely graduating high school, we didn't have the education, the intelligence, and the insight to realize that Joey was crazed and crazy. We just thought he was acting crazy normal. All we knew was that he was our friend, albeit our gay friend, but that information was only known by me. Had I had the emotional awareness that I possess now, I would have grabbed the hairbrush out of his hand, as soon as he picked it off the dresser. Had I had more insight into our storytelling, little Joey, I would have stopped this misadventure, before it even started, when he first tied Kathleen to the bed.
Unbeknownst to me then, but so obvious to me now, apparently, he was a monster that his mother made him into by forcing him to have sex with her, when he was too young to understand such adult feelings and emotions. Just a suspicion that had become a supposition, I had no idea if he ever had sex with his mother, as I still have no idea now. Yet, from the looks of things and from the crazed look on Joey's face, in the mold of Alfred Hitchcock's Norman Bates of Psycho, in the way that he was so aggressively acting towards women, I wouldn't be surprised, if he was a real Mommy's boy, if you know what I mean. After that day of him physically abusing Kathleen, Psycho became little Joey's street name. It was no surprise to any of us that he liked the name.
