This is the continued story of
Simon’s Journal.
Before you begin this third volume in this series,
I would highly recommend that you
read the first and second volumes
as each picks up were the previous
left off.
Simon’s Journal -
Volume I
Thirteen Days – The First Crusade
Thirteen
Nights – After the Crusade
ADMONITION:
The following narrative is nearly a complete
work of fiction. Some events and characters were pulled from real life but have
been changed, enhanced and twisted to comply with my will. Any other similarity
to actual individuals living or dead is completely unintentional, but it would
be incredible!
WARNING:
The following story contains diaper use,
violence, adult language and strong sexual content. If reading a coming of age
story about boys wearing diapers and exploring their awakening sexuality
doesn’t tickle your pickle, or if pickle tickling is illegal in your area, then
I suggest you select something else to read.
There’s no shelter
from the cold
BJ touched my arm and startled me back to
reality. I suddenly realized how long I had been talking; the sun was hanging
low in the sky, casing an amazing lightshow on the water.
I looked up to BJ, he was smiling cautiously
as he motioned with his head, “Mom’s calling us.”
“Huh?” I said still feeling disoriented by
the sudden reemergence into the present.
He helped me to my feet, my face felt hot and
one look at BJ told me we’d both been out in the sun too long.
“Going to hurt like heck tomorrow!” he said unsure
just what to say.
BJ had sat quite, listening to every word and
watching as my facial features twisted and contorted to match my resurrected
memories. It wasn’t until later that night, after I had finished telling him my
story and we were both tucked into bed that he told me about my face changing
like that.
As we were shaking the sand from our towels,
from over BJ’s left shoulder I caught sight of someone standing at a distance
atop the same rocks BJ and I had been playing on earlier. I had to take half a
step to the side to get a better look. The figure was obviously a man but was
completely out of place given the fact that we were on a private beach next to
the ocean and the man was wearing a dark suit and hat. He was standing, staring
right at the two of us.
BJ noticed me and turned to see what I was
looking at.
“Oh the centurion? He’s been there a while.
Bet he’s about cooked, dressed like that!” BJ said as though he was as use to
seeing them as I was.
We both made our way back up to the house where
supper was waiting on us, but I didn’t sit down to eat right away. Instead, I
took three bottles of water from the cooler, filled a plate with food and
without a single objection or inquiry from anyone, I headed back toward the
beach and the dark suited man; or as BJ called him, the centurion.
When I returned, everyone had finished eating
but there was a plate full of dinner sitting on the picnic table covered with
one of those plastic dome things to keep the flies from crawling all over the
food.
BJ was sitting on the picnic table waiting
for me like a faithful old dog waiting on his master to return after a hard day
at the office. He would probably want to pound on me for a while if he knew I
had just compared him to a dog.
While I tried to eat he proceeded to
entertain me with a plethora of really bad jokes. Trying to laugh and swallow
at the same time is nearly impossible. Thankfully his mom came to my rescue
before I starved to death and made him stop so I could eat without choking.
After I finished my supper BJ and I wanted to
go exploring but we were not allowed. Though we could not much feel it just
then, apparently we both resembled Lobsters, I mean if BJ’s dad can be
believed. So we were both ushered to the bathroom with, “I don’t want to hear any
objections. The two of you best march yourselves to the bathroom and take a
cool bath or I will carry you and wash you myself.”
That was all it took; we surrendered and
high-tailed it to the bathroom before she got any notion that we were in anyway
hesitating.
BJ started the water while I pulled off my
shirt and took a second to look at my reflection in the mirror. My chest and
shoulders were a soft bronze tone though I could tell that my ocean born tan
was gradually fading. My arms from about the middle of my biceps down to the
tips of my fingers were a nice crisp pink, by morning it would be a full fledge
fire red. Somewhat comically, from the neck up to my cheekbones was also a bit
well done however my forehead which had been partially protected by my hair had
three light tan lines that seemed to stand out pretty dramatically thanks to
the surrounding burnt skin.
I
tossed my shirt on the floor and turned to BJ how was still playing around with
the water controls. At first I thought he was still wearing his swimming suit
but then I realized that I was really seeing his snow-white butt shinning
proudly before me.
Maybe I should not have done it, but the
devil in me couldn’t resist the opportunity and he never saw it coming either.
I snuck up behind him on my tiptoes intent on surprising him. I’d say I
succeeded nicely and though it had not really been my intent, my aim could not
have been better. I thrust a single finger between those white melons and to
the surprise of us both, my finger met with no resistance at all as it sunk all
the way into BJ’s poop-shoot.
The mayhem that ensued went light-years
beyond funny. I’m talking (Funny times Infinity to the power of Infinity plus
two) or (F*¥¥+2). I
wonder if anyone has ever laughed themselves to death?
As my finger slipped in to my third knuckle,
BJ made a sound much like a cat whose tail was just stepped on. It all happened
so fast; one millisecond he was bent over adjusting the temperature of the
water and the next he was turned upside-down in the bathtub.
I wish I had a camera just then to snap a
picture of his face as his head came out of the water. He looked altogether
baffled but it didn’t take long for him to figure out what had happened,
however by then I was leaning across the toilet laughing so hard that tears
were literally rocketing out of my eyes in great drops.
I have no uncertainties whatsoever that, had
his mom not come racing into the bathroom right then to see what all the noise
was about, I would have either died while bent over a toilet seat laughing my
preverbal ass off or BJ would have beat the living crap out of me. Thankfully,
BJ was so embarrassed to have his mom come in when he (1) was naked, and (2)
had just been violated by my finger that his only thoughts were to get rid of
her and fast!
“MOOOMMMMM! GET OUUUT!” BJ howled.
Amazingly enough his sun burnt face, neck and
ears turned a darker shade of red.
Water was splashing everywhere as he flopped
around trying to hide his nudity from her.
“Honestly, like I have never seen you naked
before!” She teased, “Did you fall in?”
Thankfully she had looked my away as he
started to say no but still laughing insanely, I quickly jumped in, “I pushed
him!”
It wasn’t entirely a lie, I mean he wouldn’t
have gone in headfirst if I hadn’t slipping in his backdoor and tickled his
brain.
“Simon!” she suddenly reverted to mom mode,
“You could have hurt him!”
“Moooom I’m fine!” BJ whined, “Would you
please just goooo?”
“Alright but no more horse play!” She said
wagging a finger at the two of us, “I mean it!”
Just before she closed the door she said,
“When you two are finished I want to put something on your sunburns.”
“Moooom cllloooose the doooooooooooor!” BJ
said in a long whiney groan and I caught his mom grinning as the door shut.
“You’re dead!” BJ said letting go of the
shower curtain he had been using to hide his boyhood parts from his mother.
Any composure I had managed was lost as I
once again succumbed to tearful laughter.
I never would have thought it could get any
funnier but as BJ tried to stand up in the tub he must have tried just a little
too hard because with a quick, high-pitched fart out popped a mini-poop.
It hit the water with a plop and for a full
second neither of us moved or made a sound; that is until I literally exploded.
Despite my scars and the chance for pain, I
rolled off the toilet seat and flat on my back on the floor. I was laughing so
hard that no sound was coming out of my mouth. I carried on like someone had
just shoved a bottle of laughing gas up my butt and turned on the valve.
BJ leaped from the tub, bounded over me and
planted his bottom on the seat just as his backside exploded with a vengeance.
“You boys had better be in that tub and
soaking!” came his mothers voice from a distance. This only added fuel to the
fire, so to speak.
I still don’t know how I ended up sitting on
the floor by the door; perhaps I was trying to get away from his stinky bum! It
was as if my finger had caused some kind of chain reaction in BJ because every
time he thought he was done, he’d start crapping again with each bowel-move as
loud, if not louder then the first.
He too was laughing nearly as insanely as I
was now and desperately holding a towel over his nose and mouth to filter out
the stench as well as to muffle his howls of laughter.
It got to the point that we couldn’t look at
each other because as soon as one of us started to get control again the other
would laugh all the harder and we’d both be roaring again.
And then without warning, without a segue and
without looking over he asked, “So what happened when that lady...” he took a
second to recall the name, “Madam-M?” he said not quite sure he had remember
correctly, “...came down?”
Still laughing, but not as energetically, I
blinked and both BJ and the bathroom were gone, replaced by the familiar
surroundings of my floating home.
It was as though I never stopped talking on
the beach earlier. I was back aboard the Bancheli with Jamie holding tightly to
me and Lowell contentedly leaning against me, while sucking noisily on his
bottle of coco and playing with the cloth diaper he was holding.”
** For the latest news on how each installment is coming along as well as answers to questions asked by other readers and so much more, visit me at www.talkhard.5u.com. As always, your thoughts matter to me very, very much, so please send any comments, questions, suggestions, or criticism to me at: [email protected] **