Helplessness Blues

Hi! So Helplessness Blues is my first attempt to write anything like this. I actually am working on a much longer story, but I sort of dreamed this up in the last few days. Admittedly, it's a bit fluffy with fairly one-dimensional characters.

The story actually did start as a rather unpleasant dream I had recently, although I think it ended well. I don't remember which parts were from the dream and which I made up except that the dildo was definitely not from the dream and the twins were. Spanish twins aren't typically the type of thing that I think about when I'm conscious.

I'd recommend against judging the story based on the first few sentences, it's more romantic than sensationalist, I think. Any constructive criticism is appreciated.

All rights reserved.

Chapter 1 - Sleeping In

I woke up in the center of the football field. I was sore, shivering, and naked, with a dildo up my ass.

OK, so I hate it when people give a two minute synopsis of their life at the beginning of the story as much as the next guy. That being said, I'm also not a huge fan of the phrase 'dildo up my ass', so what the hell... I think some background information may be warranted.

My name is Gerald Summers. I had just finished my senior year of high school in the Chicago area. I won't tell you what school it was, but the pictures ended up on the internet and the story was on the news, so it probably wouldn't be hard to figure it out.

Like I said, I had just finished my senior year. This was just in between the end of classes and the actual graduation ceremony. I was the top student in my class, so I had a speech that I needed to be preparing for. Instead, I was sleeping naked in a football field.

I'm roughly six feet tall with brown hair, which I wore in a buzzcut at that time. I'm definitely a little fat, since I'm pushing 200 pounds. Not all of that is fat, I work construction when I'm not at school so I would like to think that there is some muscle under the layer of blubber. I'll get back to that in a second.

My friends would call me Jerry, if I had any. As it is, people call me Gerald. Of course, that is when they're not calling me Gary. One girl, who I went to school with from the fifth grade on, calls me Tony. No, neither of those names is a nickname.

You see, I'm a loner. I wouldn't say I'm shy, I just don't understand social relationships. It never made sense to me how you go from being friendly to being friends. I could never figure out when to give somebody a call and when to back off, so I eventually just backed off from people entirely.

When I was seventeen, my parents were killed in a car crash. Without any close relatives, I got myself emancipated by a court and I was living in a very small apartment. While I finished high school, all of my spare time went into working construction for a friend of my Dad's. That certainly didn't make my social life more vibrant. In the fall, I was going to take a full scholarship to Northwestern and start my life over.

Since it's relative to the story, and because most of America has already seen the pictures, I'll admit that I have a very average-sized penis. I was always good friends with it, though, so it didn't seem to be a problem. At the time this happened, I was also a virgin.

All of that leads back to the scene on the football field. I received an invite to a pre-graduation party for the popular people. Of course, I had never received an invite like this before but I assumed that it might be because I was valedictorian. Typically I wouldn't have taken someone up on an effort like that, but I was feeling my virgin-ness particularly severely. I had a puerile fantasy that I might find a hot cheerleader who had just realized that hooking up with smart guys was the best way to earn some financial stability for the future. Of course, that was foolish of me, these girls were smart and they knew that is was six to ten years before I would have big time money. That gave them plenty of time to enjoy themselves before starting to dig for gold.

When I joined the party it was already underway. Nobody paid any attention to me as I wandered from room to room. The football team was well represented at the party, along with the basketball team, and so were the cheerleaders. I didn't know a lot of the people at the party but I did notice that Tyler Vernes, the star linebacker, and Jason Erie, the star running back, were entertaining the spanish twins. I didn't know the twins' names, but I did know that they were senior cheerleaders who were impossibly gorgeous. The two identical twins had move to the US from Spain in their early teens and still spoke with a slight accent. 5'4" or so, and slender, they had a dark, curly beauty that I associate with the Spanish.

Eventually, Trent Graves, the star quarterback walked up with Emma W-something. She was an unbelievably tall, blond cheerleader who made me drool when I looked at her. Trent was the golden boy of the school, he led the team deep into the state playoffs that year and was going to take a full football scholarship from Miami of Ohio. He was also a gigantic douchebag, although I had forgotten it at the time.

In retrospective, I should have been more careful around that group. I wasn't always the nicest to my intellectual inferiors. During Junior year I had notoriously lambasted Trent for his claim that walruses were a mythical creature. (I mean, seriously... walruses?)

Trent gave me a backslap and a drink. He said it was great to have me at the party. I took the drink from him and had a swig to say thanks.

It was the last thing I remembered before waking up in the football field.

*****

Staggering to my feet slowly, I was not aware that a hangover could feel that bad.

I reached back and found the reason that my ass seemed so sore. After checking that the plastic member didn't have any blood on it (that seemed important), I hurled it as far as I could manage. Given my physical state, it wasn't very far.

I was slowly becoming aware of my circumstances. I was naked, shrivelled (it was cold after all), and alone. As far as I could tell, it was probably sometime before 6 AM. Also, my body was covered in sharpie marks.

A quick memory check verified that I had no idea how I had ended up there. The last thing I remembered was taking that drink from Trent. Memory lane would need to wait. I needed to get home without being arrested.

It took some adventurous and careful scuttling, but I reached my apartment without being arrested or giving anyone a heart attack. Luckily I lived less than a mile away.

After getting home, I locked and barred the front door and then went to take the world's longest shower. The sharpie marks didn't want to come off, but I verified that they wouldn't show if I was wearing long sleeves and pants. I followed the shower with an intense water drinking session to try to re-hydrate. After that I fell on to the bed and slept for most of the day.

Chapter 2 - Master Plan

After getting up, I found something to eat and took as many ibuprofen as I thought I could handle without causing permanent liver damage. I needed to find a way to figure out what happened to me and I needed to learn whether rumors were spreading about me.

I let the coffee finish brewing, then I sat down with a cup of joe and started to replay the events I could remember in my head. I had seen the three football dickheads. They probably wouldn't be very much help, especially if my suspicion was correct that Trent was responsible for... whatever it was that happened.

I had seen Emma and the Spanish twins. Emma wouldn't piss on me if I was on fire in front of her, so that wouldn't help me very much. The twins didn't seem like such bad sorts, although I had never seen them in a context besides the football team. Maybe I needed to save them for later.

Continuing to rack my brain, I realized that I did know one person who might be able to help me just to understand what happened. Billy Williams may have been the starting point guard, but I knew that before he was a jock, Billy had been a weedy eighth grader who was my primary math olympiad rival. He was the first person I could try.

I pulled on some clothes (all long sleeved) and rushed over to the school to try to find Billy. Fortunately, seniors were on campus to clean out their lockers. I was able to track Billy down as he was leaving campus. He looked astonished to see me. Then he looked frightened.

I was finally able to pull him to his Honda, so that we could get in and discuss. It took several minutes for me to convince him that I was not there to rip out his liver with my bare hands. That was not a good sign. Finally, he began to talk to me, albeit in a shaky manner.

"Look Barry," (I didn't correct him.) "I really don't think you want to... you know... umm... know... what happened. Ignorance is bliss and all that shit. Man, just forget about it."

I put my hand on his headrest so that I could turn and address him. He jumped like I had pulled a machete on him. That was definitely not a good sign.

"Look, Billy. I just need to know what happened to me. I don't have any elaborate revenge plans."

"You sure, man? I mean... some things are better off not known." (Most definitely not a good sign.)

"Billy, you look really scared of me. As you can tell, I'm staying pretty calm. Start giving me something if you want me to stay that way."

My voice was as intimidating as I could manage. You see, I'm not a violent guy. I took a couple of years of martial arts when I was in junior high, but gave it up when it was obvious that I would never be that good. As far as I can remember, I've never been in a fight. That being said, I probably had forty-five pounds on Billy, even if it was mostly fat. In Billy's little Honda, I think that I became even more imposing.

"OK, look I left before that shit happened, but there are pictures..."

"Pictures?!!!"

"Yeah, man, I'll show you where."

Billy pulled out his phone and showed me how to find them on a familiar social networking site. He looked like he wanted me out of his car before I looked at them. I didn't blame him.

"Buddy, look you gotta remember that I was gone by the time that happened. I really didn't like the vibe of the party. If you really want to know anything more, talk to Lucia and Elena Martin. You may not think so when you look at those pictures, but those Spanish twins are good people. Be easy on them."

Billy peeled out of the parking lot as fast as a '93 Civic will let you.

Chapter 3 - Oh No

I sat down on the curb before I began looking at the photos. Bile bubbled in my throat. I was afraid of what I would see.

No, that's a lie. I was terrified. The only thing that compelled me to peek was the fear that my amnesia might wear off. I wanted to know just how many thousands of dollars of therapy I was in for.

Impulsively, I put in my passcode and opened up the site that Billy had shown me. The pictures seem to whizz by me. At first I was simply standing in the party, looking drunk with a stupid grin on my face. It seemed that I stood there a little while before people took notice of me. Then Emma walked up to me with a sharpie. She pulled off my shirt and began to write.

The pictures were telling a story like one of those cartoons you draw in a flipbook, stuttering and disjointed but coherent enough to be understood. I watched at least six people draw or write on my torso.

The next set of pictures, I was standing naked in a bathroom, flaccid. The people visible in the mirror appeared to be laughing. They pushed me towards the tub. Then there was someone standing in the tub with me. The Martin twins... that's why Billy warned me.

They didn't appear to be too happy. One has an unreadable expression on her face while the other had a sheepish grin. Both were in their underwear. Someone started the water. I can only imagine someone thought it would be funny for me to have a shower with two hot girls. 'The only time he'll ever get to shower with cheerleaders!' Something like that, I'm sure.

Then both girls seemed somewhat uncomfortable. The next picture showed why, the photo version of me had an erection. From what I can tell, the girls teased me until it happened but neither seemed willing to actually touch my boner.

Like I said, I'm only average size. This wasn't an advertisement for my sexual prowess that I wanted to disseminate.

My mind raced through a series of reactions in short order. Disgust followed by an urge to vomit followed by anger followed by embarrassment finally ending in disassociation. The guy in the picture couldn't possibly be me, could he? I had always assumed, faced with something like this, that a person would settle on an emotion and stick with it, whether it be rage or shame. I was wrong. My head continued to spin all afternoon, changing emotions so quickly that I couldn't keep track.

Eventually, I managed to focus. The pictures weren't done. Continuing on, I saw what I had feared. I'm bent over and someone is inserting the dildo up my ass.

This time I did vomit before continuing. Strangely enough, the next thing I thought was that I looked fat from behind. Vanity always prevails, I guess. There were a series of photos showing the insertion. From what I could tell, nobody felt a need to do anything more vigorous than just inserting it. Ashamed to say, I found myself thankful for the homophobia of football players.

The final set of photos was of the football field. I'm spread eagled on the ground, probably unconscious, surrounded by a circle of cheerleaders. They took care to get a series of photos with the cheerleaders featuring both my flaccid front and my dildo decorated rear.

Like I said, if you have any interest, you can probably find the photos. They ended up on the internet and then made it into some news stories. Congratulations me, I was now an internet superstar.

I vomited again.

Chapter 4 - Two Birds

It took me some time to recover my composure after viewing the pictures. Eventually, I dragged myself back to my feet. If I wanted revenge, I needed to find out more. The only people that I could currently blame were Trent, Travis, Jason, Emma, the twins, and the cheerleader squad. There must have been fifty people at that party.

I also had some questions about what had happened to me and why.

After a great deal of effort to focus, I remembered something I knew about the twins. You could often find them sitting and studying in the public library. They would be done with classes, but maybe they had standardized tests that they were studying for or something.

I walked a couple of miles to the library, not sure I could trust myself to drive.

One long walk and ten minutes of library searching later, I spotted them alone at a table in the corner. Unsure how to handle the situation, I approached slowly. When I was about ten feet away, they spotted me and seemed to freeze as I covered the rest of the distance. I slid into one of the chairs opposite the pair.

I can't say that I had ever taken too much notice of the girls before now. Typically it was more peaceful for me to ignore the really hot girls. Less stupid jealousy that way, you see. This time I did notice two pairs of large brown eyes under long lashes. They were both dressed informally in t-shirts and shorts with their curly, black hair hanging down over their shoulders.

Now that I was here, I didn't know what to say. After all, I had never accused anyone of physically violating me in front of a party full of popular people before.

"So..." Was what I managed. (I've been told I have a way with words.)

"Why?... I mean, what were you... OK, so I have some questions." (Cicero's twin, I am.)

That was all I got out before one of the twins spoke up. Apparently she had found her courage. The voice was soft and seemed to be full of shame and regret.

"I don't know what you're going to say, but... I'm so sorry! I don't know why we did that, but I don't ever expect you to forgive us. We don't deserve it."

The other girl spoke up (damned if I knew which was which), "We were drinking, but I will hate myself for a long time for what we did to you."

I was surprised. Both sounded genuine. For some reason, I felt like I was losing my anger. Having someone acknowledge what had been done to me helped somehow.

I asked them to tell me what happened, prompting them to continue when they reached points they were too ashamed to discuss. While we discussed it, one of the two (the quieter one) kept putting her hand on mine sympathetically. Each time she would remove it after a minute, like she had just realized what she had done.

The gist of their story confirmed my suspicions from the photos. Trent was the ringleader, with Emma's encouragement. He was the one who had actually slipped me something. Neither knew what it was. Jason had been the one who took the pictures. (A photojournalist in the making, that one.) Finally, Travis had been the one to violate me with the object of pleasure. Both girls blushed furiously while they discussed that. The one new item that I did learn was that there was a lot of teabagging during the party. Apparently that particular set of pictures hadn't quite made it onto the internet yet.

It turned out that they had been pressured into taking the photos in the shower with me. Neither made any excuses. I had been right, the subtext of the photos was that it would be the only time I got to shower with girls like them.

By the time they reached the field, the cheerleaders had been tired and disgusted with the sick game. Trent and a few others had practically forced them to take the photos. Even he seemed bored by then, so they had simply left me there.

One of the girls did tell me that a few cheerleaders (both of them included) wanted to take me somewhere safe instead of leaving me naked in the field. They had been too drunk to follow through on their impulse to help me.

When they were done, I leaned back. My head was still spinning. I didn't know what to do. After a few minutes, one of them spoke up again to express their apologies again. She told me quite emphatically that they would help me with anything I needed. If I was willing to talk to them again, that is. Neither seemed to find it likely that I would be.

Before leaving, both gave me their numbers so that I knew how to contact them. There was abundant self-loathing visible in their body language as the pair of beautiful twins walked to the exit.

I stayed for another ten minutes, trying to calm down and think of a plan.

Chapter 5 - You Don't Have To Be A Prostitute

In the end, the best that I could think of was to go back to school and hope that I could run into one of the perpetrators. Although I wanted to exact some retribution, I was smart enough to know that I was probably going to follow up my very public embarrassment by having my ass kicked.

I spent the rest of the day at the school, not spotting any of the guys I was looking for. Exhausted, I dragged myself home. The afternoon had seen my anger finally fade enough for my head to clear. I was aware that I would have serious issues to work through, but I was also wondering about the benefit of revenge.

All that revenge could buy me was more notoriety. My online presence would probably become even more prominent than it already was. I just wanted to be done with the whole thing.

I fell asleep pondering a move to Portland... or Australia... somewhere a long way from Chicago.

*****

When I woke, I was still unsure. I decided to call the twins. I don't know why. Maybe they would be able to help me make sense of it.