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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Grump - 2. Chapter 2: Gauntlet

Up, up and away. Another flight into the unknown for fancy pants.

Grump

stories/7180/images/Grump.four.jpg

Chapter Two: Gauntlet

Sam made his way toward the school building. His walk took him pass different groups of students in a well planned and practiced strategem. Thru trial and error, and pushed by a compulsion not to noticed, Sam had found a way to cross the front lawn each day without drawing conspicuous attention to himself. But, if anyone had the eyes to see or cared to notice or if an Icon or an assassin were present to throw a revel, they would have been quite impressed with Sam's dance of concealment. It was a mild spell, not a real dance. But still, the concentration involved was extraordinary and valuable. Yes, very valuable. Even a mage level would find this spell a challenge. And Sam's untaught, untrained; how could this happen, what trigger could have awoken his latent abililities. And does the honored one know?

Sam knew nothing of spells. He was too busy getting to the front door in one piece. "Yes, see the door, think of the door, make it to the door and it is done." Keep your head down and your mouth shut and your mind on the door. Once you are inside it is easier, the hard part over. Yes, it is better now though, you have ways to protect yourself now, and no one tricks you anymore. You are the king of tricks now, they just don't recognize it's you. The years of high school combat have been hard but you have learned to be hard too. You can bite back now with not just your teeth, but with something much sharper, words. And if you keep your guard up, you can handle just about anything they throw at you. Just as long as nothing unexpected happens. That is your constant worry, the unknown unexpected event that will leave you at their mercy, again. But still the worse thing is the walk every day to the door because you can't forget; the memory is part of the routine too.

"Samuel, you are starting high school today. It will be different. You and your classmates are not children anymore. You are all growing up and they will see what a remarkable young man you are."

"Yes grandmother, I will see you at supper. Bye." Sam got out of the car and took a look around.

Well, maybe grandmother is right. This all looks very different. I don't see anyone I know. That is not just different, that is a definite improvement in my opinion.

"Hey Grump, Grump. Yeah dude. Come on over I want you to meet the guys. Don't be shy man, this is high school and everything is different now. We're just talking shit and having some fun before class starts." Mike Finn, he was two years older and lived on the same street as Sam. He knows my name is Sam, will I ever live Grump down. What to do? It would be foolish to ignore Mike. Maybe this was his chance to change things. He didn't really know Mike all that well, but he was you know attractive, alright, Sam had noticed just how attractive he was on a number of occasions when he was spying on Mike. It was hard not to watch, Mike never wore a shirt when he cut the grass every Saturday. So, Sam climbed the steps and walked over to Mike and his friends. "Uh, hi Mike."

"Grump, good to see you made it to high school, now you are the man. These are some of the guys on the team, Randy, Joe, Billy and Howdy. So have you gone thru freshman orientation yet?" Mike smiled, god his dimples.

"Yeah, we did all that last week, it was one long boring day."

"Well, you do know you still have to pass the orientation test today don't you?"

"What?"

"Yeah, it's sort of a pass/fail test."

"A test today, I don't understand, no one mentioned a test last week. Where do I go for this test and when?"

"The test is here and now. Grab him now."

One moment Sam was standing there perplexed and the next Joe and Billy were holding his arms. Then from behind someone grabbed his pants and yanked hard, his pants were down to his knees and his underwear was down low enough to show his bush.

"Stop! What! Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Someone had grabbed his underwear and pulled up hard this time, a wedgie.

"Don't, let me go!"

"Well he screams like a girl."

"And he blushes like a girl."

"Don't those look like girl's panties to you guys."

"He kind of looks like a girl, too."

"Well, that settles it. Sam you have failed the test. You must be gay."

Sam didn't know where he was. Someone was shaking his head though. "Wake up, it's okay now. Wake up so we can get you taken of. You're going to be okay, but you are a mess."

"Oh, uh what happened?" And then clarity. "Those shits pulled my pants down and then they..." What was that feeling, he felt wet and cold. Sam raised his head a little and looked down. His lap was covered by a towel; where did that come from?

"Yes, I know what happened. You got pantsed and passed out. Then unfortunately, you had an accident... your underwear is soaked, I'm afraid. You need to get up now if you can. I'll take you to the locker room and you can clean up. Principal Gray will want to speak to you then."

Okay, almost to the door, just a push and I am inside. One more step. Shittttttttt!

"Sorry, Sam. Gee I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you hear me calling you. Let me help you pick up your stuff. Really man I am sorry. Well, I guess I know how you're doing today, huh? Are you really as pissed as you look? I was hoping you would join us for lunch, it would be nice. There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about..."

Peter, he found me again, and this time on my walk to the door. How does he find me? I can avoid anyone in school but him, the shit; he's not going to work his spell on me. As far as I'm concerned he doesn't smell wonderful. He stinks and always will.

"Peter, I can't chat now, catch me later." (If you can, asshole.) "I have got to get to my locker." This cannot continue. I have got to find a way to loose that dick.

What do you think? Ten feet maybe this time.

<br />Copyright © Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original art, characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.<br /><br />This story was originally written in late 2009.<br /><br />Transfer to new system on: 12/20/2010<br /><br />© Copyright 2010 by Bugeye. All Rights Reserved.<br /><br /><br /><br />
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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