To Steal A Kiss

[D_Rainger]

To Steal a Kiss

Copyright © 2010 by D_Rainger

This is a work of fiction

Just a kiss. That’s all. Jessie’s dream. The lips of the new girl were thin and pink. She used lip gloss. A crush on a girl might be forgivable when you are eleven. But it wasn’t a crush. It was only a kiss. That’s all Jessie wanted.

A boy wouldn’t work. She’d have to be older because of her secret. When she kissed a boy it would be written all over her face. And he would be able to tell. The plastic sheet. The diapers. The hot shame in the morning. He’d know.

But a girl. That’s different. Softer, more gentle. The new girl, she’d had tears in her eyes when the boys teased her. When she fell down. She’s bad they said. She does it with girls. She might understand. It might have happened to her.

Jessie waited. When the books scattered on the ground, there she was. Their eyes met. There was a little smile. In class Jessie saw her. Little points on the new girl’s shirt. What was it like to have breasts? Wear a bra? Jessie had to stand in the hall. Disgraced. Not paying attention.

There was a dream. Jessie in bed under the covers. The new girl close. Their breath mingled in warmth. Jessie had been crying. The new girl stroked her hair.

“It’s all right, I’m yours no matter what,” she said

Jessie woke and felt herself. She was dry. She hadn’t wet.

The boys had no mercy. The new girl ran out of the room. Crying. Jessie opened the bathroom door. The new girl. Jessie stood in front of her. Her eyes down in shame.

“Sometimes I wet my bed.”

She looked up at the new girl. Pool of tears in her eyes. A sigh. Arms around the new girl. A kiss on soft pink lips.

The new girl. Arms around Jessie. Soft lips come together again. The kiss returned.

[NewGuy20]

Its surprising this story (or is it poetry?) has received so few comments.

This is a fantastic work. Despite being shorter than most things on the board, I think its clearly one of the best. Its well written and very effective. It conveys so much emotion and is so heart felt. I'd LOVE to read a full length story about these characters if you had the inclination to write one.

[D_Rainger]

Chapter 2, Lightning Strikes

Copyright ©, D_Rainger

This is a work of fiction

Friends. The new girl’s name is Laurie. Jessie sits with her at lunch. They swap sandwiches. They laugh. Laurie is smart and funny. Nobody knows her. “Why do you like HER?” the kids ask. School is fun. Jessie wants to go. Laurie is there and Jessie feels like she belongs.

Trouble. The boys won’t leave Laurie alone. Lesbo friends they taunt. Jessie is mad. She feels her temper hot and out of control. Blood coming from the boy’s nose. Sitting in the office. Eyes red from tears. “No, I won’t do it again.” Jessie sobs. The principal’s face angry and sad at the same time. “What’s gotten in to you?” disappointed parents. Grounded for two weeks. Stay in the bedroom with the crackling sheet and drawer full of stupid pull-ups. Still wetting like a baby.

At school, a hero. Left alone. Laurie and Jessie kiss in the stall. Long for each other’s arms. Wait together. Hold hands. Just friends. The girls come and talk. Sit at the table. “That was neat what you did to Quentin.” So transparent Jessie thinks. Not real, fair weather friends. Laurie is real. Laurie with the beautiful eyes. Laurie with the soft voice. Laurie with the smile just for her.

“Laurie, stop joking around.” Laurie lying on the floor. She doesn’t get up. Fell off the seat at the table. “Come on, Laurie.” Stiff. Ridgid. Eyes nothing but white. A gasp. Shaking arms and legs. “Laurie, LAURIE!” Try to stop her. Kneeling by her. Going on forever. Never stopping. Writhing. Foam. Blood. Laurie’s dress is up. Wet pool between Laurie’s legs. Jessie crying, “Please! Please! Help!”

Teacher. Unbuttons Laurie’s blouse. Turns her on her side. Dress still up. Laurie’s white panties stained brown. Utter humiliation and shame. Jessie wracked with tears. So scared. Never been so frightened. “What’s wrong with her?” Shaking slows. Laurie like a tired wind-up toy. Relaxes on the floor. Jessie takes her shirt off. Covers Laurie’s dignity. Jessie in her little-girl undershirt.

“Back to class now, all of you,” voice of authority. Shuffling. Whispering. The room empties. Jessie still there. “Back to your room.” Jessie’s head shakes no. They pick Laurie up. A mess. A wreck. Laurie vomits down the front of her clothes. Is she going to die? Holding her hand. Holding as long as she can. Holding with all her strength. Holding until pulled apart.

Crying in the cafeteria. All alone. Shivering. Sick to her stomach. “What would I do without her?” Jessie cries from her heart. Friends. A treasure. Gold. Diamonds. A Rainbow. My Laurie.

Feet coming quickly. “There you are.” Teacher hands Jessie her shirt.

“How is she? What happened” Is she all right? Can I see her?”

Teacher sits with Jessie. Arm around her. “Do you know what epilepsy is?”

Electrical storms in her head. Overload. Neurons firing and firing. She’s going to go home for the afternoon. Yes, she will be all right. Knew she was epileptic. Medication needs to be adjusted. “You care about your friend don’t you?” Jessie’s eyes wet, head nods, “Uh huh.”

Dream. Lightening getting near. No escape. Running and running. Scream. “Laurie, watch out.” Helpless. Jessie out of breath. Laurie struck by a blinding flash. Deafening noise. Jessie falling, falling, falling.

Wakes with jump. Nightgown wrapped around her. Light comes on. Parents. “Jessie, are you all right?” Mother holding her. “Hush now.” Comfort. Jessie feels herself. Wet. Have to change her pull-up.

Weekend endless. On the telephone Laurie’s mother says she is resting. No can’t come to the phone now. Making cards for Laurie. Nothing seems right. Worry. Restless. Monday won’t come.

At school in the hall. There she is! Into the bathroom. Stall slams shut. Same old smile. Warm. Strong. Laurie laughs. Jessie’s arms hug her friend. Sudden surprise. Something different under Laurie’s dress. She lets Jessie slide her hands underneath. Rough paper. Side seams. Thick in front and back. Pink Princess. A pull-up.

“Just in case,” Laurie says.

[WriteAndLeft]

I like the story, but it is a bit disjointed and hard to read. I wold like a bit more detail though.

I will keep reading.

[Total Trash]

Very cute. Love the style. It's good to see someone on here experimenting with disjointed structure, instead of just not knowing how to put together a sentence. The images at the end of each chapter are also a plus.

[D_Rainger]

Copyright © 2010 by D_Rainger

This is a work of fiction

There is a book: “Annie on my Mind.” Jessie reads at night. She doesn’t tell her parents. She has a secret.

Laurie is all right. Her medicine keeps her from having convulsions. They are together at school. When Jessie is there the kids don’t tease Laurie. Her knight in shining armor. Jessie has strength she didn’t know. She fights for her friend.

Laurie gives Jessie courage. Laurie still wears pull-ups to school. Her medicine still being adjusted. She doesn’t want to have another accident in her pants. Jessie comes to school in pull-ups too. She takes Laurie into the stall and guides Laurie’s hand inside her pants. They hold each other close. It is hard to leave to go to class.

Jessie tells her parents about her friend Laurie. She is careful. She doesn’t tell them everything.

Smiles all around. “Glad you have found a little friend,” they gush. “Why don’t you invite her over? You could have a sleepover.” Pretending to be normal parents.

It is heaven or paradise. Laurie stays with Jessie. The are together. They eat and talk and laugh and dream. So good to be close. Jessie feels complete. Mother looks in and nods in approval. “My little girl is reaching out. Growing up. She’ll be all right.”

Pull-ups under their dresses. Jessie and Laurie feel wicked. They sit next to each other at dinner. Dared each other. “Can’t go to the bathroom, have to use your diaper.” They look at each other. Getting hard to hold it. Hard to make conversation. Hard to eat dessert. Hard to be polite.

They race upstairs. Door shuts. Out of breath. “Don’t think I can wait much longer.” Laurie’s arms enfold Jessie. Squeeze her. Close. Lips come together. Jessie forgets, her mind lost in Laurie’s kiss. Pull-up begins to fill. Jessie doesn’t care. Like a baby lost in its mother’s arms.

They strip off their dresses, Laurie’s bra and Jessie’s vest. Standing in just diapers. Jessie sees that Laurie’s pull-up is fat too. They come together. A new feeling, skin against skin, breast against chest. “Come on,” Laurie says. She pulls Jessie into the bathroom, into the shower with pull-ups on. Warm water, diapers swell ridiculously. Thick and spongy between their legs. Can’t stop touching, rubbing.

Laurie leans against the wall. Warm water spilling over her. She turns Jessie and pulls her back against her. Hands feel Jessie. She relaxes against Laurie’s bosom. Across her stomach, up her chest, around her breast buds. Jessie is lost. Lost in her own thoughts, ecstasy. Laurie’s hands find Jessie’s leaves and unfold them to touch the flower underneath. Jessie’s knees go weak. She is dreaming of Laurie. Laurie’s lips, her smell, her body, her nakedness, her beauty. And she is gone to her own private Xanadu.

Laurie is a magician, a wizard, a sorceress. Jessie’s head is swimming. She has never tasted pure pleasure. Laurie is an object of veneration. Jessie worships her.

Jessie looks at her friend with love. It is like the book. Jessie wants to give. Wants to express her heart, her love. She cradles Laurie’s face in her hands. “I love you.” They fall into bed together. They find each other. They fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Like an explosion the door opens and the light is on. Cold air startles Jessie as the covers are torn away.

“What the hell is going on?” Rage. Jessie’s mother like a storm. “What have you been doing?”

Jessie scrambles. Over Laurie across the sheets, tumbles on the floor in front of her mother. No place to hide. Exposed. Jessie stands to protect her friend. “Its my fault, Mom. It was my idea. We were just playing. It’s not what you think,” words tumble out of Jessie’s mouth.

Jessie is slapped across the face. Hard, with malice, anger, disgust. She falls to the floor.

Laurie is ripped from the bed. SMACK! She is struck on the backside. “Pack your things. I’ll not have a little Sappho in my house” Laurie is thrown face first into her pile of clothes.

Jessie’s father is at the door. “What’s going on?”

“I found these two in bed. Together. Naked.”

Laurie is pulling on her clothes. Jessie’s mother drags her out of the room with her pack trailing behind her.

The noise dies in the distance. Click, the door shuts. Jessie is looking at the floor. Her father’s slippered feet in front of her. Heavy breathing. She is lifted in the air. She is spread across his lap. His hand falls again and again until Jessie no longer feels. He drops her on the floor and staggers out the door.

Jessie lies in her tears and pain. The glass of sweet wine is broken and lies in pieces on the ground. In sorrow and exhaustion she is carried away on the wind of sleep.

[Three Rivers]

Nice story.

[Total Trash]

I'd have never thought such a convincing lesbian romance could be written by a straight (?) male.

(That's meant as a compliment, by the way.)

[D_Rainger]

Chapter 4

And Then Goodnight

Copyright © 2010 by D_Rainger

This is a work of fiction

Jessie struggles to wake. Pain. Visions of the night before. Forsaken. Fear.

Determined footsteps in the hall. “Get your clothes on.” Door slams.

Jessie rides in silence. The world flashing by outside the car window. Jessie watches her hands. “What have I lost?” Unsure. Ties her stomach in knots.

Jessie can hear her mother talking beyond the door. The voices rise and fall. Words are formless. Time has stopped.

“Here she is, Doctor,” Jessie’s mother pulls her into the office. Door shuts behind her. Jessie standing still. Authority, like her father.

“Sit down,” fake smile. Hail fellow well met. “Your mother says you have been confused lately.”

What should she say? Thoughts become a whirlwind in the vortex of her mind.

“Are you having trouble at school? Do you like your teachers? Who is your best friend? Are you a good student? What are your hobbies? How do you feel about your parents? Do you think they love you?

Too many questions. Too many thoughts. Too much to concentrate on. Frenzy. Panic. Helpless.

Pills. That’s what to doctor gave her. Mother stands over Jessie as she swallows them.

School. Jessie can’t wait. Hasn’t been able to talk to Laurie. Took cell phone away. Breathless down the hall. There she is. Running. “Laurie!” she yells.

Turning away with some other girls. Ignoring her. Jessie stands and watches Laurie’s back drift away from her.

Jessie leaves notes. Jessie tries to sit down at lunch. Jessie waits until Laurie goes into the bathroom. “What’s wrong?” Jessie pleads.

“Go away! My mother says I can’t talk to you.” Laurie turns and leaves Jessie alone.

Broken. Destroyed. Heart rent in two. Jessie staggers into the light of the hall. Back to the classroom. Boy sticks out his leg. Jessie falls, laughter. “Oops! Sorry.” Jessie limps to her seat. Blood on her handkerchief. Books go flying from her arms after class. Scattered on the ground. Jessie stoops to pick them up. She looks up. Laurie.

Notebook kicked in her face. Mean. Spiteful. Betrayed.

At home alone. Stuck in her room. No where to go. On her bed. Sweeping circles engulf her. Waves of grief.

Music, sweet music. Her only relief. Jessie is drowning. Every song sung just for her. Iron butterflies in the Garden of Eden. Ideas. Too many mountains and not enough stairs to climb. Blown out like a candle in the wind. How can you mend a broken heart? Drinking whiskey and rye. This will be the day that I die. Gratefully dead. Going down that long lonely highway. Turning a whiter shade of pale.

Goodnight, my love,

The tired old moon is descending.

Goodnight, my love,

My moment with you is now ending.

It was so heavenly

Holding you close to me.

It will be heavenly

To hold you again in a dream

Sleep tight my love,

Goodnight my love

Remember that you’re mine.

The note -- “I love you.”

The scarf -- tied around the light in the ceiling.

The chair -- in the middle of the room.

Jessie takes off her clothes. She steps up on the chair and fastens the scarf around her neck. She jumps into the dark.

And then “Goodnight”.

And then the dawn.

[diaperpt]

Dark. Too close to reality to be a fun read. But then it doesn't have to be, does it?

Interesting writing style.

[D_Rainger]

This story reflects my dissatisfaction with this site. Many years ago under a different name, I was part of a community where I felt accepted and at peace with my paraphilia. After that community was disbanded I looked for a new place to express my feelings through my stories. I tried several online groups before coming here. In 2008, I left for an extended period because I realized I didn't fit in. I really tried hard. I wrote all kinds of book and movie reviews. I started a couple of threads. Nothing was very succesful. Not too long ago I came back. I'm older now. I'm having a hard time understanding some of the posts. There is an edge to some of the comments that wasn't there before. I was ridiculed by others for some of the ideas I expressed. There is an "inner circle" of regulars who have private jokes and I feel excluded. The stories that I really like to write and read are about juvenile incontinence. That seems to be a sacred prohibition around here. So, I did what every self-respecting writer does: I killed my hero. And with that in mind I must say "Goodnight".

-DR

P.S. And then the dawn.

[Pull-ups man]

This story reflects my dissatisfaction with this site. Many years ago under a different name, I was part of a community where I felt accepted and at peace with my paraphilia. After that community was disbanded I looked for a new place to express my feelings through my stories. I tried several online groups before coming here. In 2008, I left for an extended period because I realized I didn't fit in. I really tried hard. I wrote all kinds of book and movie reviews. I started a couple of threads. Nothing was very succesful. Not too long ago I came back. I'm older now. I'm having a hard time understanding some of the posts. There is an edge to some of the comments that wasn't there before. I was ridiculed by others for some of the ideas I expressed. There is an "inner circle" of regulars who have private jokes and I feel excluded. The stories that I really like to write and read are about juvenile incontinence. That seems to be a sacred prohibition around here. So, I did what every self-respecting writer does: I killed my hero. And with that in mind I must say "Goodnight".

-DR

P.S. And then the dawn.

Well I am one of the people here who really enjoy your stories and always have. I have tried to give supportive comments. If I may ask, what other site do you frequent? I would really love to read more of your stories, your subject matter has always intrigued me.

thanks and I hope to keep seeing you around here more often...

[D_Rainger]

I will make it right by you Pull-ups man. You are about my only loyal fan. The site I frequented is long gone. I wish there was another one like it today. I don't have anywhere else to go.

-DR

[Sophie ♥]

I have never read a better short story - diapered or otherwise - in my life...

Thank you... so, so much...

-Sophie

[Total Trash]

This story reflects my dissatisfaction with this site. Many years ago under a different name, I was part of a community where I felt accepted and at peace with my paraphilia. After that community was disbanded I looked for a new place to express my feelings through my stories. I tried several online groups before coming here. In 2008, I left for an extended period because I realized I didn't fit in. I really tried hard. I wrote all kinds of book and movie reviews. I started a couple of threads. Nothing was very succesful. Not too long ago I came back. I'm older now. I'm having a hard time understanding some of the posts. There is an edge to some of the comments that wasn't there before. I was ridiculed by others for some of the ideas I expressed. There is an "inner circle" of regulars who have private jokes and I feel excluded. The stories that I really like to write and read are about juvenile incontinence. That seems to be a sacred prohibition around here. So, I did what every self-respecting writer does: I killed my hero. And with that in mind I must say "Goodnight".

-DR

P.S. And then the dawn.

I was going to complain about the melodramatic ending and express my frustration with the unwritten rule that all queer teenage romances have to end tragically, but now that I know what you were going for, I can appreciate the sentiment. For what it's worth, you're one of only a couple writers here who I genuinely respect as artists.

[Pull-ups man]

I will make it right by you Pull-ups man. You are about my only loyal fan. The site I frequented is long gone. I wish there was another one like it today. I don't have anywhere else to go.

-DR

thanks for the compliment just PM me when you have a minute. I used to have your stories on my computer so I could read them in times when I had no internet connection, but I had to delete them unfortunately. just upload your stories somewhere and PM me

later D_Rainger.