Three Blind-Eye Hice

[4,435 words]

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.

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Three Blind-Eye Hice
Chapter One - A Murky Light

This is the story of three boys, each one a mouse in the predator/prey ecosystem of Middle School trying to survive and trying to figure out the problems, at this age, of the blind-eye, and its changing environs. The three mouses (plural: mice) are Jasper, Douglas, and Matthew. The houses (plural: hice) that are the start of the maze are the Lighthouse, the Wheel, and the Castle. From out of these and through these our mouses run the maze of blocks and turns and dead ends, of other people, debts and demands that make life so much less simple than the boy meets (naked) girl hoped for at that age. Unfortunately, sometimes the boy gets naked first and meets many other people before or instead of the girl. This is the story of three such poor boys and their hice.

Jasper Light, scrawnier version --- no, scratch that, not version, not really, but let's say close blood relative of --- Samuel Light. But that's requiring clarification on a further separation of the two. It's Samuel at home, not a Sam kind of person, and 'Sampson' Light at school and on the field. Which field? Doesn't matter. A natural, and yes strong, not Shazam ridiculous in muscular form, but tall, 5' 10 at 15, sculpted and toned, imparting the idea of mass without bumping into the frame trying to walk through the door. Sampson, an apt nickname for this Adonis, though his hair never went beyond medium length for a boy, down the neck a bit but largely off the collar.

Sampson could attract any Delilah, or any other alphanumeric out of the girl (and woman) buffet of high school life; but he wouldn't get caught in it. Oh, he liked girls and had liked at least a couple of them most intimately, at least for a while, short whiles maybe, sometimes repeat short whiles, but this wasn't a dumb Sampson. He had been biblical, so to speak, but not to fall into any trap. He wasn't in the highest classes, no, but a solid B-level student, one of the rare traits shared with his little brother, the little brother that scooped up the leftover DNA his parents spared for him. Samuel, and hence the Sampson persona as well, was smart people-wise and in maturity, not one to get caught up in the schemes of others, certainly not one to likely get schemed himself. Clear headed and affable enough; outgoing to friends and respectful to others. What you could see was what you would get, too. Not a devious one. But oh so much to be got if you could.

Mmm.

Um . . . . where were we? Right, Jasper. You see, it's easy to skip over the boy and walk toward the brighter Light. So to speak. Though they went to the same school, a large 6-12, with grades 6, 7, 8 on one side and 9-12 on the other they had different lives there. There was some crossover in age ranges socially because of classroom needs and there being only one dining hall, and things like this, but for all that 'Samson' Light and Jasper . . . uh, . . . well, Jasper, roamed through completely separate schools and lives, despite all that sharing a last name and some extraneous DNA markers --- or 'blood', (incidentally they were both AB negative) --- might mean to two brothers. It's almost as if they weren't even related.

Except, for all that, Sampson --- sorry, Samuel --- didn't ignore his brother completely. It wasnt noticeable but Samuel kept very close tabs on his little brother. Within a month of being exactly three years older, Samuel loved his little brother. He even liked Jasper as a brother and without the standard sibling animosity; but Samuel had decided on his own not to intervene at school with his presence, not to show any obvious protection, not to introduce his little brother into high school society. As mentioned above, Samuel was smart and socially mature for his age, and without sticking out socially because of that. Samuel realized that Jasper had to learn on his own how to forge his own way, stick up for himself, and become socially adept.

Without conspicuous demonstration, Samuel took care of the bigger stuff. He wouldn't intervene with the bullies from Jasper's own grade, or the lighter bullies one grade up from his little brother, but it was understood in the upper grades that anything connected to Jasper Light, including his friends, was definitely off limits, and also understood that no-one was to tell Jasper about this. As far as Jasper knew, he just didn't fall into Samuel's attention at school, despite a slight acknowledging (but not necessarily encouraging) nod from the older boy whenever they crossed paths. If, however, Jasper had teachers that Samuel had had before, then 'Sampson ' Light --- again without his little brother ever being informed --- would go to each teacher concerned and ask them not to compare the two boys, not to even remind Jasper that they knew who his brother was. The teachers always complied, so impressed they were with the older Light's concern and maturity. The coaches especially knew to lay off and not treat the kid any differently from the other average boys in his grade.

At home Samuel always available at some point to help Jasper --- even if to tell him to man up --- to casually let out an encouraging compliment, or subtle reprimand. to teach him something helpful, to bring him up to date on girls, sex, his changing body and . . . girls. Girls, girls, girls, a scary invention of Creation that was demanding more and more of Jasper's interests, attentions at school, in daydreams, in anxieties, and in newly learned hand motions --- there was bed-side hand lotion and tissues courtesy of his older brother's quiet on-the-side to their father, both brother and dad being not only reassuring, but encouraging that it was natural and absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Just not to leave the used tissues laying about. His mom was also very cool about the whole matter, not saying anything but not NOT saying anything, even though he knew that she knew. After all, she bought the the hand lotion and tissues ---- and washed the sheets with their remains of overshoots and inadvertent wet dreams.

The Lights were a good family, a contented one, realistic in expectations and appreciative wherever those hopes got met. And Samuel was a great older brother.

Oh.

Sorry, got distracted by Samuel again. Easy to do. Such a fine, good boy. But back to the actual central person in this history:

Jasper Light, scrawnier version of another known Light at his school, shut the door to his locker in the mixed bank of lockers belonging to 7th and 8th graders. All the sixth graders had lockers separate for their grade, but that was last year for Jasper. Seventh grade was in its second semester for him and his closest friends, and that semester was already halfway through on this day in March. The boy was 12 and moving to 13, 12 years and ten months of life, new to this whole puberty thing -- well, new to its more recent expressions, yet disturbed if he was behind most of the other boys. Absurd, really, if he had a look around, but such were a boy's anxieties sometimes. He had hairs now, finally, above the root of his boyhood, at least he swore to himself that there were enough to count. And he shot enough now to somewhat justify using a whole tissue for clean-up. It was still a clear and fairly fluid cum, but maybe just a shade milkier? Imagination helps.

He sighed. Scared at what he was going to try this weekend, half wanting to use the excuse of sudden cold weather not to go through with it, half hoping his friends will still want to camp out. But how do you work around such cold weather to get your friends naked with you? At least for a moment. Just the thought of what he was going to try made him feel a bit woozy. Matthew would probably be of no interest; Jasper was pretty sure the slightly younger boy was even less developed than himself. Matthew seemed it: shorter even than Jasper, higher voice. But it had been a whole winter season almost since he had last seen Douglas naked, now that Jasper no longer did the winter week day camp at the Y after Christmas. He wanted to know how he compared to his friend but was too nervous just to come right out and ask. That itself was somewhat ridiculous given how long the three of them had been friends; and they had certainly compared things before.

He couldn't tell anything from PE, either. Nobody got showers in Winter PE, nor changed out of their underwear when dressing out or back in. So in PE class all he had to go by was surreptitious glances to see how other boys were filling out their briefs. Impossible to say with the boxer wearers, the few there were. But even with the briefs-wearing boys, were those filled-out pouches or bends in bunched fabric? And would 12 year old boys really fill out their briefs like the way he had seen on 15-year-old Samuel and other boys at that age? Yes, Samuel was 15, but then he had also filled out his BVD pouch at 12, at least so it seemed to Jasper's hazy memory. Neither of the boys had ever been shy about being in their underwear around the house, and their mom wasn't fazed by coming into the kitchen on school mornings, both of her sons in nothing but their briefs, up on the bar stools and shoveling in cereal at the island counter. It was a standard breakfast dress in the Light house. And the same if either boy got up after crawling into bed. No sense in throwing on clothes you are just going to take off again. It was so standard at the Light house, where neither boy had ever worn pajamas, that their regular sleepover friends eventually got into the same routine.

Today in PE, though, Jasper, who didn't strip in parts, but all the way down to his briefs before dressing back up again, looked down his flat and thoroughly hairless chest and stomach --- well, he reminded himself, every boy in there was still completely hairless down the front, at least to the waistband another inch or two below that --- and he thought that he looked particularly flat below his own elastic band, across that brief expanse of white cotton. But maybe he was overthinking this.

All this was on his mind as he stood by his locker before last period. Uncertain what he should do about this weekend, he was shoved hard from behind into his right shoulder. Jasper grabbed his shoulder with his left hand and scowled over at Coley Barnes and his friends passing by; Jason Corman had rammed him with his own shoulder and smiled innocently over at him.

"Sorry about that Jasper; I didn't see you."

Coley himself, only two months older, but fully 13 and already 2 inches taller and a somewhat deepening voice, laughed and said, "Damn, Jasper, you're gettin' so big like your brother that you're taking up more of the hall than you realize. You need to be careful."

His right arm down by his side, Jasper extended his middle finger along his thigh where the other boys could see it.

"Oh, sick, guys, he just pulled his dick out !!" Coley hollered out and everyone in the hallway turned to look. "No wait, my bad, it's just his middle finger. You can tell because it's bigger."

Everyone in the hallway laughed, or so it seemed to Jasper, and he turned deep shades of blush as he slowly curled his middle finger in with the rest, like a dog putting his tail between his legs. He wasn't even cognizant, in his embarrassment, that he himself had been slowly becoming like Coley to anyone he could identify as lower status. His favorite target: the fledgling Chess Club, a quiet group of boys, nearly all seventh graders, who were continually failing to find girl members and not social enough to be noticed by the cooler or more popular kids, but who were socially inept enough to become targets of the middle strata. And deeper in his chaos of worry over place in the school, his possible lags in puberty and growth (which, incidentally, were only in his head as he was firmly in the middle of the normal range, maybe a bit ahead), and dealing with the private battle of image against a brother that unfortunately actually treated him decently --- choking off any possible animosity or unfairness to bolster himself with ---

[deep breath]

yes, in the deeper parts of all this chaotic foundering, he was losing who he was and was seeking quicker routes of coping.

So, head down against the gawkers he still imagined were spellbound by Coley's (unfortunately fairly clever) public put-down, Jasper went his way toward the last period of the day but still managed to lash out at Mathias Anders and Andy Proctor, two members of aforementioned Chess Club, and snarled as he went past, "What do you think is so funny, dickless larpers?"

It was a cut that wiped the smiles off the two boys pretty quick. 'Dickless' was particularly wounding to Andy. Already nearing the end of seventh grade, the shorter boy had yet to really begin puberty. Meanwhile, Mathias' older brother Luke was a known and avid Larper, perhaps too excited and too extended into his imagination. With the unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on what side of the LARPing experience you are on) name of Luke, Mathias' older brother could not pass under the radar with his interests, even if they had been quiet ones. Mathias existed in a state of embarrassment from this and his own social struggle with his interests (chess, math, and a well hidden knowledge of Pokemon stats), so any public reminder of his brother could dampen his mood. Mathias in any other instance could realize his name as a cool paternal gift and grow into his otherwise well-shaped and not under-handsome body. He could get the chicks he actually fantasized about, and not just the lower esteem hangers-on that may better be classed as fantasy groupies than females.

And when it came to unfortunate names, well, Mathias Anders' best friend was Andy Proctor. Both hated the epithet 'Anders and Andy' that people applied to them, usually dismissively, but it was even worse when Andy was later referred to as 'Handy Proctologist.' Even worse, neither knew what it meant at first and even smiled at it, as though it was a cooler nickname. Really, though, they should have known better.

The end of the day came finally; Jasper trudged out in the cold and up the steps of his waiting bus and down the aisle to the empty seat next to Douglas Spokes, one of his two best friends since, well, since forever. Matthew King was the missing member in this trio of friends who never really gave thought that they were best friends, so much as it was always just them. Matthew's after school disappearance these last two years was because his mom would pick up him and his younger sister, Beth, three times a week from their respective schools and accompany them to their regular activities, Beth for her Monday/Wednesday dance class and Matthew for Monday/Thursday swimming. On Tuesday and Friday, Matthew was in one of the seats that was 'their' aisle on the bus, or on one of the three bikes, or in one of the three pairs of walking sneakers, depending on how they went to and from school on any given day.

The boys lived close by each other and in and out of each others' houses for years and years of childhood. Mainly it was the Light house they congregated at (which was called "the Lighthouse" in any reference), because the two other boys quietly idolized Samuel (as did Jasper, to his own growing frustration) and felt loved and at ease with Jasper's parents. It was an easygoing, but not empty, house. The next most likely place to find the boys was "the Wheel," which of course was the name of the Spokes' house. It was more like a secret fort, given that Douglas' room was kind of like a turret on a small Victorian, and only he, his dad and his little brother Alfie lived there, the other two stayed downstairs. It was the best place if you wanted no one else around. Douglas had adopted the briefs-only partial lifestyle of the Light boys to the extent that that was almost all he wore around the house some days. The Wheel was where they had last compared dicks at the start of seventh grade. Douglas was the clear winner, but at the time none of them had had pubic hair. The first that Jasper had seen on any of them was Douglas with some surprisingly dark curls above the root on this otherwise dirty blond, a bit like an Italian roast on the coffee side. That was almost three months ago at the Y when they were changing out after swimming.

"Hey."

"Hey."

The cold subdued everything, and Jasper slid into his seat on the aisle side. Douglas was bunched up in his jacket almost hugging himself and just went back to staring out the window once the bus was underway. Jasper's mind was back on his earlier thoughts: was he keeping up with other boys his age? It seemed the ones that mattered were growing bigger than him, having voice changes, were smoother around the girls ---- and didn't that all mean that downstairs . . . . . . well, you know. It didn't help that they were mixed in with eighth graders where it all seemed a bit more obvious. His eyes came around to where his mind was and without his consciously realizing it, drifted down to stare at the crotch of his friend . . . wondering.

Douglas was an inch taller, a clear inch, too, as Jasper's hair was a bit flatter than Douglas', and the slightly older boy, by two months, shortly turning 13, was on the trim side of husky. A solid boy without obvious muscle but without obvious fat, neither. Jasper looked down at where those legs of his friend, stronger than his own, a bit meatier, and traveled up to where they came together at the crotch and the folds of dark green cotton which were Douglas' cargo pants. Jasper wondered how much of those folds were cotton, how much boy? If he could look through them, would he see a plumper cock lazily nesting into a wrinkling nutsack? Would there be a larger patch of those dark coffee curls marking out the root of his dick from the smooth of his belly? What was his friend like now, down there? Was Jasper himself keeping up in development?

Jasper was interrupted from his thoughts by a nudge in his side. He looked up to see Douglas smiling at him.

"You can take it out and play with it, if you want."

Jasper smiled, himself, and looked away, hoping to hide the blush that was increasing the feeling of being caught out. "Shut up, dumbass. There's not enough there to pull out."

"Well, not in this cold there isn't."

Jasper hadn't thought about that.

Douglas went on. "I feel like my nuts are going to crawl back up like when I was a little kid. How is this even called Spring? Brrrrr. So what are we doing this weekend?"

"I thought we were going camping?" About 90% of the time, 'camping' meant a tent in the backyard of The Wheel, Douglas' home. The Lighthouse wasn't flat enough in back further from the house itself, and Matthew's house and yard came with too many rules ---- and a little sister a year and a half younger. Mr. and Mrs. King were super nice but very conservative and a lot stricter when the boys were over there. But, Mrs. King could cook, and Mr. King made the best Saturday morning pancakes, almost worth the chores that followed. So, there were incentives there. Matthew's house was called, of course, "the Castle."

"Camping?? Still? Did you not here about my nuts?"

"They'll come back out. It's not gonna be THAT cold tomorrow night. Or we could change it to Saturday. It's supposed to be warmer then."

"Saturday's a no go. It's M's church week."

(Matthew's parents loathed shortening his name, so sometimes the boys called him M, to avoid using 'Matt'. His sister, however, a more headstrong child, won out having her own name shortened from Elizabeth to Beth. Even her parents would call her Beth at times.)

"Oh yeah," Jasper recollected. "Church week. Now I remember why we said Friday."

The Kings made a formal venture out to the suburban Episcopal church once a month. The downtown Episcopal building had the real look, but the suburban church had the people to know, and a more modern and chic layout. If it was church week, you could still spend the night at the Castle, but you were going to bed earlier AND going with the family to church. Surprisingly, the boys still often did just that.

"Why do you want to camp out so bad this weekend? We can do it next."

"I don't know, I just . . . ." Jasper hesitated and then looked around. The bus was light that day --- a lot of parental pick-ups in the unexpected cold snap --- and the seats behind and in front of the boys were empty. "Have you . . . I mean . . . . do you . . . ever think if you're . . . . you know . . . the same or keeping up with other guys . . . down there?"

It was Douglas' turn to look around and he subdued his voice, "You wanna, like, compare? Like last year?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"Hell, we can do that inside, Jasper. We'll all be super tiny if we try that outside, even if it does warm up a little tomorrow."

"I didn't think about that."

"Yeah, then what would be the point? So, inside it is. And you know we could run around naked inside for all my dad would care. He'd probably turn the heat up and let us, if we really wanted to. Actually, we have run around naked all day in The Wheel before. More than once."

"Oh yeah, I remember that."

"Matthew would be able to tell us what we are like compared to other guys," Douglas added.

"M? Why?"

"Well, you know Winter Week at the Y, which you totally flaked on, by the way --- inexcusable."

"Ooh, big word. Besides, it was winter, Dougie. Who wants to swim in winter?"

"Don't call me that, and it was an indoor pool this year, Jazzy."

"Don't call me that."

"Jazzy Hands."

"Don't even ....."

"Anyway," Douglas continued, "Not everybody showered and changed out afterward. A lot went straight home, so mainly all I saw were some guys a year older and some a year younger. I mean, I guess I was in the middle, you know, where I should be. Don't really know."

"Oh, I get it. Matthew has regular swim classes..."

"Yeah, and they're all Y12 in his group, and they have to shower and dress out. Completely. Plus, sometimes they combine groups from other swim clubs and stuff. So, he's seen a lot of guys our age."

"That's a lot of dick. If he was even looking."

"Yeah, he's gotten kinda shy about that this year."

"You think he's...." Jasper made a scratch at his jeans just where his pubis was underneath.

"Got any hair?" Douglas ventured. "No. And maybe not even any bigger than last year. I think it bothers him. So lay off him, especially tomorrow night if we shuck all, you know."

"I don't mess with him any about that. I haven't even seen him naked since last year. And neither of you are in my gym class."

"Do they shower in your class?"

"Nah, not really. I mean some do, but nobody this winter."

"Next year we all have to."

"Yeah, I know. Matthew's gonna hate it." Jasper sniggered a little at the end of this comment.

"You see," Douglas rejoined. "That's what I mean. You make a lot of comments like he's not manning up or is still a little kid or..."

"I do not."

"You DO, Jasper. You need to stop."

"All right, all right. I'll try not to twist his panties any more."

"You see, that's it right there; you're doing it more and more."

"You're right," Jasper raised his hands in a peace request, "You're right, and I'm sorry. I'll stop."

"I hope so." Douglas reflected a bit and added, "And what's up with you and the Chess Club this year?"

"What?" Like it was nothing. "A bunch of dorks."

"Well . . . okay, true that; but, you know, they like what they like. Just seems like you go after them extra, and it's like you're angrier a lot more of the time."

"I'm not angry," Jasper said half-heartedly.

The boys' stop came up then and they got off the bus, slowing their short walk until they parted and talked about girls. Girls they knew, girls they liked, girls they didn't know but wished they did. In their innocence that they were growing to realize was there and that they less and less vaguely wanted to shed, they wondered each what breasts would really feel like, if a girl's skin would feel different from their own, and what exactly was pussy when you came right down to it?

Dreams. The real last dreams of boyhood, before you grew up.

(End of File)