Blackball Bus Ride

By Aldric

Copyright 2014 by Aldric [email protected], all rights reserved
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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
 
Comments may be made to [email protected]
 
This story depicts minors in unusual conditions that may include unprotected, unsafe sex or extreme humiliation. Obviously, this does not describe real life and should not be taken as such. In the real world, behaviors as described in the story are not acceptable, tolerated, or legal. The reader should never confuse the difference between fiction and real life. This story is fictional.
 
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Blackball Bus Ride
 

I got the message as I boarded the bus on the way to school that morning.  Each person boarding got a single piece of paper that read “Blackball Bus Today.”  Like all the sixth and seventh grade boys, I had a nervous stomach all day.
 
As we lined up for the bus after school we all had to draw a card from stack that Mary Beth Anderson was holding.  Well, not all of us, only the boys.  Girls were exempt.  I don’t know what idiot came up with that plan but I was sure it wasn’t a boy.  There were twenty-eight cards, one for each boy on the bus.  One of the cards was the ace of spades.  That was the blackball.
 
The game was normally played three or four times a year.  This was the sixth time, and since it was the last day of school it would be the last time until next year.  I hadn’t had the blackball yet.  But I was in sixth grade, just a month past my thirteenth birthday, so I had another year to go.  I prayed the card I pulled wouldn’t be the dreaded ace.
 
I flipped the card over so that nobody else could see it.  It was the two of diamonds.  I was safe again.  Now that I was safe I paid more attention to the others in line, waiting to find out who it would be this time.  But everyone seemed relieved, nobody was upset.  That could only mean one thing—an eighth grader had the blackball.  None of us sixth or seventh graders were safe.  Boys in the eighth grade were immune, but if they drew the card they could exchange it with any sixth or seventh grader they wanted.
 
My brother Adam came over by me.  “Did you draw it?” he asked me.  When I shook my head no he said, “You sure are lucky.  Any bets on who it will be?”
 
“Could be anyone,” I said to him.  “Someone from your grade must have the ace.”
 
“Yeah, I figured that out too,” he said.  “Want to bet on who has the highest card between us?”
 
I was holding a deuce, so I wasn’t willing to bet.  “I wonder why it’s taking so long for him to show the card.”
 
“I don’t know,” he said, looking around.  “But here, you can have my card.  Maybe you should have bet with me.”  He handed me his card and headed back to his friends.  Curious, I flipped it over and looked.
 
“Hey, it’s Jason!” Marty Fields yelled from right next to me.  “Jason Green got the ace from his brother!”
 
It was true, Adam had given me the blackball.  I now held the ace of spades and the two of diamonds.  Only one of them mattered.  I felt sick.  I suddenly needed to pee.  I wanted to run, but I knew the rules.  Running was the worst thing I could do.  I’d been blackballed.
 
I moved to the head of the line as all my friends came over to laugh at me.  I boarded as soon as the doors opened.  Everyone else stood around.  I quickly went to the blackball seat.  Third row, right had side, behind the bus driver.  Where he couldn’t see.  I sat sideways in the bench.  Nobody would be sitting next to me.  I knew I had thirty seconds and what I had to do.  I unblocked my belt and pushed my pants and underwear down to my ankles.  I pulled my shirt up and out of the way.
 
The other students started boarding.  It took longer than normal because all of the girls, and many of the boys, paused as they passed to get a good look.  Girls, especially those from my grade, took the seats around mine.  Before the bus started moving I had to get it hard.  That was easy, all I had to do was sit there.  The girls were only too willing to do the rest.
 
I was to be the center of attention until my stop, which wasn’t until near the end of the trip.  And I had to do it again tomorrow on the way to school.  Liz McGurty, who I liked, sat behind me.  She touched it.  Then she grabbed it.  Then she squeezed it, and ran a fingernail over the tip.  I had to endure it as she made me shoot.  Three times.  Giggle and laughter from the girls who had a ringside seat.  And Liz would be right behind me again in the morning.
 
The only thing that could have been worse was to have a sister on the bus.  I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have my little sister watch me shoot.  It happened to Trevor Smith, and he still can’t look his sister in the eyes.  At least I didn’t have that problem.  This year.
 
 



 

   
   
(The End)