Mamma Mia (Or How I Ended Up In Bullies Anonymous)

by Lubrican

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Chapter Three

I've said several times that I didn't know what Mia was thinking during the early periods of our relationship. I thought about inserting some of her thoughts as I went along, but I decided most of that could wait until later. But I guess some of that should come out now, because I think it is important that you understand what was going on in her mind that first time, in the tree house, when she gave me her virginity, and took mine. At the same time, you also need to understand that neither of us had all this figured out at that point in time.

First off, she didn't even realize that she was taking my virginity. All she was doing, on one level, was reacting to a drive inside her. It was a drive she'd felt before, but never as strongly as this. But it wasn't as simple as her merely surrendering to her biological impulses. It was a lot more complicated than that. To be fair to her, she might have thought that was all she was doing. I mean if somebody would have stuck their head up over the top of the floor and shouted "What are you doing?!" it is quite possible she would have said something like "I don't know! I just feel like I have to do it!" And, without any help in discussing all this, she might have come to the conclusion that all she was doing was letting Nature have its way.

I did ask her, some time later, "Why then?" and "Why with me?" And she did say "I don't know ... because I wanted to?"

It took a long time for us to finally put all the pieces of the puzzle together and figure out why she did what she did that day. First, I was nice to her when she moved in next door to me. From my perspective that was kind of "Duh ... you were gorgeous!" but the majority of teenage girls don't like their bodies. That's because of what Madison Avenue tells them about their bodies - that they are too fat, that their skin isn't clear enough, that their hair is too dull, that their fricking eyelashes don't have enough body, that they don't smell good enough, even to the point that they should be scared that their natural female odors are being broadcast like a massive fart or something. Advertising spends billions telling young girls they aren't good enough unless they buy this product and use it up and buy more.

So the majority of teenage girls, including the babes, don't believe they are just naturally attractive.

And when her female intuition recognized that my male intuition thought she was meeting the standard just fine, there was an unconscious approval of me that settled into her brain. That was the start. She liked me because I liked her ... just the way she was.

Of just as much importance, though, was that I didn't act like all the other wolves. Quite literally, that night I put nail holes in Jerry and saw her luscious naked breasts, I didn't push my advantage. Had I said " Well, little darlin', I saved your sweet pussy, so maybe I should get to sample it. What do you say?" then her attitude toward me would have been just like it was to all the rest. While I obviously "appreciated" her, I didn't pursue that the way all the other boys did.

And of even more importance, when guys started lying about using her pussy, I believed her, instead of them.

Of course there was the fact that I had saved her from getting raped. She might have thought about that differently if I'd told her why I actually snuck over to peek into the car. But I didn't tell her, and let me warn you now ... if you do ... I'm going to be back in Judge Judy's courtroom, and you're going to get to take advantage of Mr. Obama's wonderful health care plan ... capice?

Sorry. It's a kind of addiction. That's why I go to BA.

Anyway, then there was the power I gave her (without having any idea I had done so) by beating up Jerry. When she threatened him, saying she would have me beat him up again if he lied about having sex with her - and he caved - it empowered her. That also tended to put me a bit higher on the pedestal I hopped up on when I saved her from getting raped. In the same vein, when I let her tell people I was her boyfriend, that also empowered her.

Except that she wasn't kidding about that. She really did want me to be her boyfriend.

And that's when things got complicated. She had all these feelings for me, because I was the kind of guy any decent girl might appreciate. Except that she'd seen me get incredibly violent. It was for a good reason, but most people don't enjoy watching actual violence take place. They watch it in movies, but their subconscious mind knows it's all an act, and that nobody is actually getting hurt. All those people who love The Godfather? They wouldn't if they knew an actual horse got decapitated to make the movie. It didn't - I don't want PETA coming down on me - talk about a bunch of bullies. But you get my meaning.

So she was drawn to me, but there were things that pushed me away from her too. Plus she'd never actually had a normal boyfriend, and because I'd never had a girlfriend either, neither one of us knew how to make that work.

So there was this push/pull, love/hate kind of thing going on in her mind. And the frustration created in me by all this, resulted in my new reputation, that of being a bully to other bullies, growing as I got in more and more "practice" at my new hobby ... and started branching out to "correcting the behavior" of non-bullies as well.

And then she went away and didn't see me for what, to us, seemed like a long time. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. My opinion is that all absence does is make calluses grow on the palm, but in her case, she went with the classic phrase. She missed me. A lot. And by the time she got back, with all those things to tell me about, she was already excited when she went looking for me. Her libido was primed, as it were. She didn't realize that, which is probably why she went looking for me with abandon. She just thought she was happy to be home, and excited to share about driving the tractor and such.

So when she climbed up in the tree house, and saw my naked chest (number one thing that girls look at first on a boy, fellas - check the stats if you don't believe me), and all I had on was those cutoffs, her libido kicked up a notch. The number two thing girls check out (according to some magazines) is the front of the pants, and mine, if you recall, was ready and waiting, pumped up to the max that day. And then, of course, I said she was beautiful.

That's the triple threat, if a girl already likes you.

And from there, the fact that while Mia thought of me as dangerous to others (bullies) I was not dangerous to her, which meant she could try some of the things she'd always been curious about in an environment where she wasn't on guard every second.

And that is how things get out of hand, which is exactly what happened up there in that tree house.

That part we knew, of course - that things had gotten out of hand. We knew that just as soon as she collapsed on my naked body, her hair covering my face, both of us gasping for breath as my penis slowly shrank inside her body. We both knew a line had been crossed that shouldn't have been crossed. At least according to every adult in the world.

Again, this was a lot more complicated than we expected it to be. One of the things that made it complicated for me was that I kept wanting to say "Thank you," over and over again, because I could now die and know that I had experienced the very best in life. But I was also pretty sure that wasn't what you were supposed to say after sex. I mean I'd never heard even one actor say something like that, either after the simulated sex in a movie, or the real thing in a porn video. I felt like I'd taken a step towards manhood, and did not want to screw that up by saying the wrong thing. And I felt stupid for not knowing the right thing to say.

Meanwhile, she was dealing with the fact that, at the moment she realized I was shooting my sperm into her body, all she could think about were the twin feelings of horror that I might be getting her pregnant, and the intense desire that I do so. Again, there exists (sometimes) a dichotomy between what the subconscious wants, based on biology, and what the conscious mind tells us is the "right" thing to do.

So both of us were faced, in those moments where we caught our breath, with both positive and negative emotions and thoughts.

This is, I have since learned, one reason why there is so little chatting right after sex. Nobody knows what to say, because everybody is at least a little conflicted about things.

I'll tell you one thing, though. Regardless of how our boyfriend/girlfriend relationship had been defined before this, it fell firmly into the usual, average, and normal definition in that tree house.

By the time we climbed down, we were both very serious about that relationship, and wanted it to last.

The first thing Mia said to me about what had happened in the tree house was the next day. We hadn't talked about it in the uncomfortable silence after having sex that first time. All we did was get dressed and then leave the tree house and woods, seeking someplace more familiar, so we could slide back into something routine and comfortable. We did kiss when we parted. Both of us wanted to do that. But neither of us knew what kind of kiss was appropriate at that point, so it was a somewhat unsatisfying kiss. For both of us, I think.

But the next day, when I went outside and saw her sitting on her front porch, I went over and sat down beside her. She looked at me and smiled - a different kind of smile than I'd ever seen on her face, somehow - and she said "Now you know what I meant that time I told you I wasn't afraid of you ... that I was afraid of me."

"What?" Her memory was better than mine.

"When Jerry tried to rape me, and you fought for me ... I wanted to let you do what he tried to force me to do."

I blinked, and then realized the import of what she'd said.

"Wow," I said, softly.

"Yeah," she said. "It scared me."

"I remember that now," I said. "I thought you were afraid of me."

"Nope," she said. "Just me."

"Your feelings," I clarified.

"Yes," she said. "And I was right."

"I don't understand," I said.

"I'm not sure I understand what happened yesterday," she said, looking over at me. "But what I do know is that now I want to do it again."

"Really?" I felt my penis stiffen. It was incredible. I knew I could get a boner quick, but this was warp factor two or three!

"But we can't," she said.

"Oh." Even I could hear the heavy disappointment in my voice.

She laughed!

"You make me feel so good!" she said, leaning over to push her shoulder at mine.

"Apparently not," I argued. "Not if you don't want to do it again."

"I didn't say I don't want to. In fact, I said quite clearly that I do. But we can't. We're seventeen, Bobby. We have to go to college. I can't let you get me pregnant now. We have to wait."

It is impossible for me to explain how this little group of sentences affected me. But I can tell you how I interpreted them. I wasn't going to be allowed to make a baby with her now. I had to wait.

And, obviously ... that meant I would get to make a baby with her at some point in the future.

"I have a boner," I said. It just slipped out of my mouth. I have no fricking idea why. I just couldn't keep it in.

"Do you!" she said, leaning against me. "For me?"

"Of course for you," I growled. I was in control of my voice again. That part I said on purpose.

"Well ... we can't do that ... but maybe we could do something else," she said softly.

Which is how I found out what techniques Mia had used on all those guys to make their cocks soft so they would stop trying to push them into her pussy.

You might have thought that finding out Mia was my actual girlfriend, not to mention losing my virginity, would have changed my usual surly disposition into one of sunny happiness. And it should have. I mean now, when I walked with her somewhere, we held hands and brushed shoulders. And it turned out that when she liked the boy whose dick she slid into her throat, she also liked doing that, which meant I got some of the most mind-blowing blow jobs you can even imagine.

Mind-blowing.

Blow job.

And I always thought it had something to do with the girl blowing air onto the guy's dick. Huh! I guess you really do learn something every day.

Anyway, that all should have made me a happy camper, and ended my bullying days. Especially since Mia didn't like the side of me that was so dark and threatening.

And I honestly believe it would have, except that when we went back to school for our junior year, with me proudly walking beside her as my actual, real life girlfriend ... the student body dissed us both.

The bully and the slut were going together.

Now wasn't that just precious.

Mia didn't see it right away, but I did. That's because I was more used to looking at people and reading them. That's what bullies do. They look for evidence of fear and weakness, but they see other things too. Like happiness. And because bullies are rarely happy, they get a little jealous of happy people. Which fuels their desire to control. It's a vicious cycle. All I wanted, really, was to be able to be happy with my girlfriend, who I thought was the most beautiful girl in school.

But people snickered and nudged each other when they saw the two of us together. And there was nothing I could do about it, because it was psychological bullying, rather than physical bullying.

I tried to take some pleasure from the fact that all those guys who had struck out with her just had to be cowed when they saw me slide my hand from her back to her butt, as we walked down the hallway. But Mia didn't like it when I did that in public. She didn't make me move my hand, but she hissed "Not here!" enough that I learned I wasn't scoring any points with her.

So I stayed surly.

And then Mia figured it out when she overheard some girls talking about us in the bathroom. She told me the conversation went something like this:

Girl one: "You know the slut and the loser? Did you know they actually walk each other to school like they were in the eighth grade or something. Can you believe it?"

{Laughter}

Girl two: "You better not let them hear you talking about them like that. Bobby's never beat up a girl yet, but I wouldn't put it past him."

{More laughter}

So suddenly, the joy was leached out of both of us by the sucking negativity of the kids around us. Kids are really among the most cruel of humans.

I think we could have worked our way through that if we'd have been able to love each other with the abandon that makes love so joyous, and creates such ecstasy that it can heal even deep wounds.

But we were restricted to the occasional hand job or blow job, because Mia didn't dare go to her mother and ask to be put on the pill. In the Falcon family, there was no need for the pill, because there was no sex. And her father, while he tolerated me as "that goofy kid next door," would use me for hunting practice if he found out I had despoiled his baby girl on the rough boards of a tree house.

I tried to get her to let me rub her off like she did me. And once - just once - she let me put my mouth on her pussy. The problem with all that was that as soon as I got her close, she didn't want my fingers or tongue any more. She wanted my prick in her, doing what it had done in that tree house.

So we were a couple in love, who couldn't make love. And we had problems at school too.

I honestly don't know what Mia did to cope. I was too self-absorbed to pay attention to her on that kind of level.

But the way I dealt with it was to release all those negative emotions onto anyone who I felt had performed some transgression.

Basically, feeling like I already had a bachelor's in bullying, I went for my master's degree.

I spent my whole junior year getting it.

I don't think either of us understood what was happening to us. Hindsight makes it quite clear, of course, and that's one of the things about life that just isn't fair. When we really need to understand what's going on in our lives, we don't. And when we finally do understand what happened, it's too late to do anything about it.

It is clear to me now that Nature's natural progression for a young couple is to make them attractive to each other, and then encourage them to mate - frequently - until the female is impregnated. That couple has then done their part (or part of their part) to keep the species going. It's just the natural order of things. And if the couple has three or four kids, then it doesn't hurt if one dies prematurely due to disease, or some predator or whatever.

But humans developed culture, which seeks to dominate nature, denying young couples the freedom to simply follow nature's rules. And when you can't breed ... nature's rule is to break apart and seek others with whom you can breed.

Not that we broke up. It wasn't that easy. We just sort of drifted apart. Whenever we saw each other all we wanted to do was rip each other's clothes off and make babies. Or at least practice making babies. And because we couldn't do that ... we sort of got to the point where we didn't want to see each other.

That process was helped during the summer between our junior and senior years, because Mia's grandmother got sick, and Mrs. Falcon and Mia went to stay with her to take care of her. I guess she had cancer and the chemotherapy she was getting just kicked her ass or something. Anyway, they were gone all summer.

Then she came home again, to go to school, and we were back together. The first night she was home we went back to the tree house and had sex again. I don't think either of us could have resisted, because we had been made crazy by the summer apart.

But, once again, the next day her defenses were up. Pregnancy was not in her plans, and she heard them loud and clear as they told us kids that the only sure fire way to not get pregnant was to not have sex.

So our senior year was a bad second verse to the same sad song of two people who wanted to be in love, but couldn't because the natural thing to do when one is in love was not available to us.

Of course I'm making this sound like it was all mutual and that the frustration was evenly distributed, which it wasn't. I think Mia did better with it than I did. I took it out on other people by bullying them. And now I had graduated to bullying people who weren't bullies themselves. They just did stupid things, and I had no patience for people who did stupid things. Like wearing their pants down so low that they looked like they were about to fall off. It showed four or five inches of boxer shorts material, and it just looked stupid. So when I saw some kid sagging like that, I helped him out by taking his shorts all the way down. I mean that was the point, right? He obviously wanted them to fall down, so I helped.

The administration didn't agree with me, of course. But they were stupid too.

Eventually I got suspended, and finally, only three months short of graduation, I got expelled.

I could go into detail about this meltdown, but it would only depress you. I know it depresses me. So let me skip to the part where there was the chance for redemption.

I can't skip the part where I didn't graduate, and Mia did. And I can't skip the part where I alienated my own parents, and hers as well, to the point that they forbade her to see me any more. And I can't skip the part where she went off to college in another state, and I stayed there in Pendleton to begin my career of running afoul of the law by committing various assaults and batteries and all that.

I'll just skip to the part where I met my first parole officer, whose name was Maximilian Harvester. He told me to call him Max, and he offered to let me beat him up legally, in a boxing ring at the gym in town.

I took him up on it.

And he beat me half to death before I finally lay there on the mat and admitted I couldn't get up again.

He didn't walk away, like I expected him to. I thought I had just been out-bullied. I had known right away I was out of my league, when he hit me three times in the face and all I could do was swing my arms wildly. But I was too stubborn to admit defeat. He had to beat that stubbornness out of me. I found out later he was Golden Gloves, and that a lot of people gave him crap for doing that to me, but he somehow sensed that was what I needed. I had been king of the hill for so long that I had forgotten how it felt to be at the bottom, too tired and beaten to get up off the ground. I had forgotten how it felt to be my own victim.

But he didn't walk away. He took off the gloves and helped me up and out of the ring. After we showered and got dressed, he took me out for a coke and a burger. While we ate he said, "If you get the urge to beat up on somebody, you call me, and we'll get back in the ring. Next time I might actually let you hit me a few times, but I'm never going to back down. You can't do that outside the ring, Bob, because if you do, you're going to end up in jail, where they use shivs instead of gloves."

Then we talked about whether or not he was going with me to my first meeting at Bullies Anonymous, and what I had to do to get my GED. He had tried to get them to let me do summer school and get a regular diploma, but the school had had enough of me and they refused, citing the danger I was to the other students.

It wasn't fun. I got some letters from Mia, but they got farther and farther apart. She talked about what college was like, and her roommate and dorm life. She talked about everything except boys, which made me pretty sure there was nothing about the boys she wanted me to know about because it would piss me off.

I wrote her back sometimes, but not every time. That was because she was in college, and I didn't know what to say to a college girl. Plus I didn't want to spell something wrong and look stupid.

And slowly, the letters I got ... and sent ... got farther and farther apart.

By the time I actually got my GED, I hadn't had a letter in three months.

Max helped me get a job. It was with a construction company and I mostly did menial labor at first. Then one day the guy who ran the Bobcat called in sick, and my boss, Denny, showed me how to work the controls so I could move/push a pile of sand from where the truck dumped it to where the truck should have dumped it. And I guess I did good enough that Denny thought I could do more of that. Eventually he sent me to a school where they taught me how to work all kinds of big construction equipment, and I started making good money for the first time in my life.

Meanwhile I went to my BA meetings like I was supposed to, and stayed out of trouble. Turns out that using heavy equipment to dig big holes in the ground, or uproot trees and whatnot kind of satisfies the craving you sometimes have to straighten out the jerk who cut you off on the interstate. Or whatever. You know what I mean. The world is full of stupid people.

I got my own apartment, and bought a car, and apologized to my parents.

That was the hardest part of Bullies Anonymous, by the way. The apologies. I had to make a list of everybody I had bullied, and why I had bullied them. I got in a lot of arguments with my counselor about some of these apologies, because even when he agreed with me that so and so had needed to be brought down a notch, he still insisted that what I had done was wrong, and that it required an apology. He said, "We anoint certain members of society to act on our behalf and use force when it is necessary, Bob. You were not one of the anointed. You were a vigilante. You were a bully, and for that, you should apologize."

I think what finally made it all sink in was that, when I found some of my former victims, for the purpose of apologizing to them, when they saw me they shrank back and there was fear in their eyes. After all that time! And I realized I had made a tremendous impression on them. Except it wasn't the kind of impression I could be proud of. Not any more. Max and Denny and a bunch of other people had taught me that friendship is a lot more valuable than knowing everybody else is afraid of you.

Of course it helped that history is full of stories about people who were at the top of the heap ... which just made them targets. They all ended badly, and I finally figured out I didn't want to end that way.

Anyway, by the time the big event happened, I was doing pretty good. I had money in the bank, and some people actually thought of me as their friend. It had taken years, but I had made most of my apologies. The vast majority of that was met with cold patience. Most of those people never wanted to see me again, even if I was apologizing to them.

But a few were very gracious about it. Those were the people who hadn't been bullies, and who had just rubbed me the wrong way for some reason. Some of those saggers, for example.

And one of them was responsible for initiating what I call 'The Big Event.'

He invited me to church.

Now I know I don't sound like a church-going kind of guy. But when I was sitting with Randy, drinking a cup of coffee while I apologized to him for being a jerk, we got to talking and, naturally, that involved Brenda Rasmussen, who was the reason I had bullied Randy. He had kept following Brenda around, trying to talk to her, and she kept making it clear she wasn't interested, so I "helped" her by threatening to crush his nuts so he wouldn't bother any girls any more. She didn't ask for my help. It was just one of the ways I sort of branched out from bullying only other bullies, to bullying people who were just being normal.

What I didn't realize back then - and which I found out during our coffee klatch - was that Brenda was simply using the time-tested female strategy of playing hard to get. She actually liked Randy, but didn't want to admit it, because Randy was a nerd, and Brenda was one of the popular girls. It wasn't until he "risked his life" and confessed that he was crazy about her ... and was willing to get beat up by Bob The Bully to be with her, that she finally decided his devotion to her outweighed what her friends would think. It also helped that they graduated. She left a graduation party and went to his house, where she tapped on his bedroom window, snuck in, and rang his bell good and proper in his own bed.

By the time I looked him up to apologize for chasing him away from Brenda, they were married and she was about twenty months pregnant.

Well ... she looked that pregnant. Turned out they had twins.

But the point is that it became obvious to me (which is the whole point of the 12 step program for bullies) that I had been misguided.

So when I casually mentioned that I'd love to meet a girl like Brenda, but didn't know how ... he invited me to church, where he said lots of girls like Brenda liked to go.

That, in itself, wasn't the "Big Event."

What was the big event was that I was sitting with Randy and Brenda when Mia came in and sat down two pews in front of us.

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