Trouser Snake -2

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Trouser Snake
by Shinigami
~~~~~Ch. 2~~~~~

 
“Are you okay?” A girl’s voice asked.
I looked around, realized firstly that I had collapsed on a tiled floor, secondly that it was the floor of the women’s restroom.


 
Some things I didn’t know about Voodoo before, but do now:
1. Voodoo, actually more correctly spelled vodoun, but who gives a shit, is actually a completely innocuous set of beliefs and not at all evil.
2. Hoodoo is another story.
3. Voodoo dolls work when created with the proper rituals performed by a hoodoo priest or priestess.
4. Shaquonda LaRue, by virtue of a blood heritage passed down by her grandmother and her grandmother before her, is a hoodoo priestess.
This might have been helpful information to have when Shaquonda showed up at my door later that day, saying she wanted to apologize. I didn’t know she could act nice, so I was taken aback. I also am maybe a little gullible. She smiled, was very kind to my mother who let her in and offered her tea, which she kindly accepted. Shaquonda explained that sometimes she had a bad temper and she had just let it get the best of her. It all sounded perfectly plausible to me.
When she asked me where the bathroom was, I personally showed her the facilities, even warned her that she would have to jiggle the flush lever on the toilet a little because the chain on the plunger sometimes got a bit tangled. And then I went back downstairs to watch television, not even bothering to check if she actually used the toilet or not.
That was probably when she got samples of my hair and saliva.
As she was leaving, I apologized to her for being an ass. “I hope detention wasn’t too bad, “ I said lamely.
Shaquonda didn’t say anything, she just nodded her head slowly and calmly. A regal gesture, really. And when she was gone I was actually left with the impression that she was incredibly cool.
So I had no idea what to make of the voodoo doll I found in my locker the next day. At first, I didn’t even realize it was a voodoo doll. It was a vaguely humanoid burlap thing with, and here was the really confusing thing, a rubber snake sewn to its crotch. The snake kind of threw me off. I mean the stuffed burlap doll is pretty standard in the voodoo doll trade if movies and such can be trusted. But no depiction of a voodoo doll that I had ever come across included a rubber snake, especially not one attached at the crotch.
And then, once I figured out that it was a voodoo doll, I had other questions drift into my brain: what the hell was it doing in my locker? Was it some kind of message? What kind of message? If whoever made it thought voodoo actually worked, why would they give it to me?
I only had a few minutes to think about it before classes started. I just left the doll in my locker.
I found social studies to be annoyingly uncomfortable, and not just because we were going over the same things that we had gone over the previous three years in grade school. It also had nothing to do with my sprained wrist. I had that in a support and I could write with my right hand if I wanted to. I normally didn’t because I thought it was cooler being left-handed, but I was naturally a righty, so it wasn’t a big deal. My handwriting was better actually. My mom taught me a little calligraphy, and before that she had been something of a taskmistress about penmanship. One of the other reasons I normally wrote with my left hand is I didn’t get stupid people telling me I wrote like a girl. No, the reason why I was uncomfortable was that my penis was hurting.
At first it was just an itching sensation, then the itching became a burning. It was a bit like Paul’s hand in the box in Dune, only it was my penis. I would have very much liked to have gotten away from it, even if someone had a gom jabbar at my throat, but all I could do was squirm in my seat. I had to get out of class. So I rose my hand, and waited very patiently under the circumstances to be called on. Of course the teacher was oblivious, the fucking bastard. I was feeling very sharp pains now in the center of my penis, and I had to clench my teeth not to cry out, but the teacher was still blathering on about how everything we were told about Christopher Columbus the previous two times we took this course was wrong, because of course anybody who did any real sailing back then knew the Earth was round already, and besides Columbus didn’t really discover America, so much as some islands next to America. “Yes, Ashley, what is it?” he finally called on me.
Some people snickered at the use of the name. I normally wouldn’t mind, but I was sure the bastard did it to piss me off, and that pissed me off. “I need to go to the bathroom. Maybe to the nurse as well.”
“Couldn’t you wait a few more minutes? The period is almost over.”
“Arrgh! No damn it! I’ve got to go now! Fuck!”
Whoops.
“Fine, Mr. Patterson. And you can see the principal after you’re done.”
“Whatever.” I said and ran to the door.
“Remember to go the right bathroom, Ashley!” someone jeered.
“Yeah, it’s the one with the lady on it!” someone else added. It was a good thing I didn’t have eidetic memory for sound, or I would have memorized their voices , found out who they were and killed them in their sleep.

I went in the bathroom with the blue man on the door. The three stalls were in various flavors of disarray. One had toilet paper fused to its surfaces, another had been the victim of a diarrhea sufferer with poor aim, and someone had been sick in the third. I flushed this one, but of course it started to overflow. I ran out of the men’s restroom and into the women’s. I had extenuating circumstances up the yin yang, and besides, what was the point of having segregated toilets anyway? Were we animals that we couldn’t control ourselves if we were in the same room with the opposite sex? I’m a rebel, baby, yeah, that and my penis felt like it was on fire.
The women’s restroom was much nicer. No piss wall and nothing was covered in shit. I locked myself into a stall and dropped my drawers. First thing I noticed was that my penis was moving. Not becoming erect, but moving side to side, almost rhythmically. The next thing was the two black ovals on either side of it. They blinked. What did me in though was seeing the tongue whip out and back in to taste the air.
***
“Are you okay?” A girl’s voice asked.
I looked around, realized firstly that I had collapsed on a tiled floor, secondly that it was the floor of the women’s restroom. “I’m okay!” I answered in a girl voice, “I just…fainted.” I had to fight the urge to use an old woman voice and say that I had fallen and couldn’t get up.
“Are you sure? I could call the nurse.”
I closed my eyes and willed myself not to say “I’m having…chest…pains.”Calling the nurse would be an excellent idea, except not in the current context. I stood up and looked. My penis was now a pale green. It had scales. I could feel its muscles as it writhed back and forth. Fuck it. “Yes, call the nurse please!”
“Okay.” There was a pause and then, “Yes, hello. I’m in the women’s restroom by room 242? There’s a girl here who collapsed. She may need medical attention…. Okay I will…. Oh! What’s your name?”
Fucking cell phones. “It’s Ash…ley,” I said truthfully enough.
“She says her name is Ashley…Okay, Ashley?”
“Yeah?”
“Nurse Garibaldi wants to know if you’re anemic.”
“No. I don’t think so. What does anemic mean?”
“What does anemic mean?...She doesn’t know…Ashley?”
“Yeah.”
“The nurse says you probably don’t have anemia . It’s a blood condition girls get on their period sometimes. What?...Oh my name’s Rebecca Arnold…That’s right, Mr. Arnold’s daughter.” Mr. Arnold was the school principal. This was turning out lovely “ Is there anything wrong right now, Ashley?”
I looked down. My penis opened its mouth wide and hissed.

“What’s going on in there?”
“I…It’s kind of personal?” I tried “ You know actually maybe I’ll just go see the nurse myself.” Then I heard commotion in the halls. The terrifying sound of lockers opening and closing. “Ow!” While I wasn’t looking, my penis bit me in the thigh. Blood welled up from the two puncture wounds.”
“Is it your period? I think I have a tampon in my purse.”
“Um…yeah? It’s my period? Maybe I am anemic after all.”
This had to be some kind of hallucinucinucination right? Right. If It was a hallucination, I should be able to hike up my pants, and get out of there. So I did this. The snake that used to be my penis did NOT approve. Thankfully I went for the whitey tighties this morning so the little guy really couldn’t do much about it. As long as no one looked at my crotch I’d be okay. The snake’s struggles were a bit hard to miss. I pulled down my underwear again. Maybe I could pull of a trick I learned from the serial killer on Silence of the Lambs. I pushed the snake head between my legs so it was upside down now and more restricted. It was easier to do this than I thought. The snake head wasn’t attached to me the same way my usual equipment was. Which led me to think of a few other things. I took my shoes and socks off rolled up the legs of my cargo pants to show off my fishwhite ankles, stuck the two balled up socks in my shirt in approximately the right place and then put the hood of my hoody over my head to hide my eyes. As long as I hightailed it out of there, maybe no one would know. “I’m going to come out,” I informed Rebecca, unlocking, the stall door. I rushed out of the stall.
Three other girls walked into the restroom. “Look girls,” The tallest of them, a blond attempting to look like Phoebe from Friends asked. “Freshmeat.”
“Looks like she’s wearing her brother’s hand me downs” Said the girl who bore a passing resemblance to Cordelia Chase from Buffy, except she was too bony and had a Paris Hilton nose.
“Leave her be, guys,” Rebecca advised them, “She just got her period.” Rebecca was very sweet looking with her plaited red hair and poofy checked blouse and jeans. Compared to the three girls that came in she seemed like a lost field mouse.
I tried to keep my head down. “Um, yeah. I’m going through PMS for the first time so I’m liable to lash out at any minute.”
The third girl was very well dressed and black, but had such a light complexion she almost seemed Mediterranean. Either that or she WAS Mediterranean and was just wearing her hair in those tight wavelets to make it seem like she was black. “This is our bathroom.” She said. “See how nice and clean it is?”
“It’s immaculate,” I said seriously.
“You’re the one who’s immaculate, you little tramp!” Paris/Cordelia said. She was apparently the dimmest one of the group.
“It’s so clean, because we don’t allow little musk rats like you in here. Do we, girls?” Paris and Phoebe nodded.
“Um, I really have to get going so…” I moved to try to get past them.
Phoebe pulled some scissors out of her purse menacingly.
I was confused for a second. What was she going to do with a pair of scissors? Arts and crafts? Then I remembered scissors were basically two knives hinged together that were allowed on the school premises. Not a nice girl this one.
“PMS…making…me unstable… Unable…to control…urges…Waaaa!” I body checked the black/Mediterranean girl and spun my arms around like one of those bird pinwheels that are on some peoples lawns. I got up close to faux-Pheobe slapping her shoulders several times with my hands.

“Ugh! Freak! Get away from me!” She said stepping back.”
Finally, my path clear, I ran out of the room in a serpentine path while making raspberry noises. Yay I made it out! Yeah. Why was I feeling like I was forgetting something. The snake squirmed between my legs ineffectually, but that wasn’t it.
Rebecca was still in there. The principal’s daughter, in there with the cashmere mafia. But she’d probably be okay. Probably.
Shit.
Thing is, for all the totalitarianisms and similarities to a Hitler youth camp, school was still fundamentally a bureaucracy. Justice came slow to the halls of Imaginaire Junior High. Teachers were never around when they could be a help. So I found myself going back into the girls’ bathroom. As I feared, Pseudo-phoebe was brandishing her scissors and backing Rebecca into a corner. “Waaa! I’m still crazy! From the PMS! I’m going through changes I don’t understand! Waaa!” I ran into the group. I shouldered fake Phoebe on to the tiled floor, which, while immaculate, was still the floor of a restroom and therefore not the place a girl of her sensibilities was fond of being. I grabbed Rebecca’s wrist and dragged her out of there. The halls were fairly safe, what with the high publicity.
Dangerous for the same reason though. I forgot to keep my head down and my hood fell away from my head, revealing my short, brown spiky hair.
Rebecca looked at me for the first time. “You’re a boy?” She was perplexed, as one would imagine she might be.
“Yeah.” I said. Then I switched to my normal voice, “I mean, yeah. Bruce Ashley Patterson, “I offered my hand and she took it hesitantly. I shook it once firmly, which was difficult because she was basically a dead fish. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a trouser snake to attend to.”

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Comments

Quite a

second chapter. This story really seems to be something fun, and I like all the little geek references.

Melanie E.

Well,

How does he take car of business, now?

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

heh

That comes next chapter:-)

Heh!

I like this...Its different!!!!

Kirri