Cast Adrift

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Toys

*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

*.*.*

Graduating from JFK High School was a somewhat unusual occurrence; most students of Penny Parish tended to drop out, become guests of the state penal system, or simply live off of the welfare system. Graduating without visible tattoos or body piercings was also an oddity. Graduating from JFK High School carrying a 5.0 GPA was unheard of.

“Helps if your daddy is the almighty Reverend Roland Truesdale,” Lowell Truesdale thought as his step-mother, Lilah Truesdale fussed over him.

With a jammy, wet kiss to Lowell’s lips, Lilah turned her attention to another student. Becky Wright sidled up to Lowell, thrusting her 32C breasts against him.

“Hey, you going to Amber’s party after?” Becky whispered, making sure that Lowell’s step-mother was out of earshot.

“Uh, yeah, as if,” Lowell scoffed. “Uh, who’s my dad? You know there’s no way I can get away for that.”

“Too bad,” Becky said, thrusting her breasts more firmly against him. “Bet we’d have bunch of fun.”

“Don’t worry, Becky,” Lowell thought as the recorded music climbed in volume. “You’ll get plenty of chances get yourself knocked up.”

“Just won’t be by me,” Lowell thought as the sixteen students, the sixteen graduates of 2017 lined up to march onto the stage.

Students, faculty and guests sat through a long-winded and pretentious speech by Principal John Paul Thompson. The effeminate man seemed to believe that all had come to hear his opinion of the deplorable education system of Louisiana and his beliefs of what needed to be done in order to improve the current system. Finally, the man ended his litany of complaints and introduced Lowell Albert Truesdale, the valedictorian of 2017.

Lowell did not have any cue cards, or pages. He had memorized his four minute speech. He wanted his speech to flow with a natural cadence.

“Much as a ship needs a good, sturdy keel we have been given a good, sturdy keel by the faculty and staff of John F. Kennedy High School. Our home life, parents, siblings, neighbors have provided each of us with a tiller by which we steer our course with,” Lowell raised his voice in passion. “Class of two thousand seventeen? Let our dreams be the wind that fills our sails and propels us into our future. Our keel will keep us upright, our tiller will steer us true, and our dreams will fill our sails.”

“That’s how you give a speech, jerk-off,” Lowell thought as he sat to a round of enthusiastic applause.

“See, boy?” Roland said as everyone gathered together after the ceremony. “That? That’s why I think you’d be an excellent minister, a man of God.”

“You would do so well at Atwell,” Lilah agreed.

“I know, I know,” Lowell sighed. “But like I’ve told both of you; I just do not feel the calling. I’d be a total fraud standing in front of a church.”

“Not that it ever stopped you,” Lowell thought as his father accepted the congratulations another parent offered to Lowell.

Lowell did not go to Amber Duhon’s party. Instead, he and Roland and Lilah and Lowell’s two sisters, Mindy and Gail went to Dairy Queen to celebrate. Lowell made seven year old Gail giggle and sixteen year old Mindy roll her eyes as he sat, mortarboard on his head as they ate. Again, as others came up to congratulate Lowell, it was Roland that jumped in to accept the accolades.

Over the next two months, Lowell did manage occasionally to escape the ever-vigilant eye of Reverend Roland Truesdale and meet up with Becky Wright and Amber Duhon down at the Bend. On the stretch of sand along the tiny tributary of the Mississippi River, Lowell did manage to technically lose his virginity. He used Amber’s mouth and Becky’s mouth very willingly and enthusiastically. He also learned how to use his mouth and fingers on Amber’s pussy and Becky’s pussy. By the time August 6th rolled around, Becky said Lowell was almost as good as Amber when it came to eating pussy. Amber said Lowell was better at eating pussy than Becky; Lowell didn’t need to be drunk in order to muff dive.

On August 6th, the Truesdale clan stood on the clam shell parking trabzon escort lot of the Double J Diner and waited for the Greyhound bus that would take Lowell to Myndee University. Roland was in a foul mood; it truly irked him that Greyhound would stop in front of such a hedonistic, deplorable site as the Double J Diner. True, Greyhound had started using the diner decades earlier, when the diner had been the Stepping Stone Diner. Back then, the diner had been owned by Heloise Decker.

Now, the diner was owned by the great granddaughter of Heloise. The girl was openly living in a same sex relationship, claimed that she and another young woman were married.

“God says, the Bible says a marriage is between a man and a woman,” Roland snapped, back squarely turned away from the den of iniquity.

Most egregious, in Roland’s eyes, was not that the two women were living in an openly homosexual relationship, or that both had somehow become impregnated, nor their scandalous manner of dress, purposefully displaying their flesh in such provocative manner. No, most egregious was that neither woman ever donated any time or service or money to his church.

“Satan shall welcome you both with open arms,” Roland thought darkly as the early morning heat and humidity enveloped the Truesdale family.

The arrival of the large Greyhound bus made Gail and Lilah break into sobs. Both hugged Lowell tightly. Mindy gave Lowell a smirk and hugged him tightly, grinding her lush figure against him. She made him jerk when she licked his lips.

“Bye boy,” a dry-eyed Roland said, giving Lowell a firm handshake.

“See you at Thanksgiving,” Roland called out as he herded the three Truesdale women to his sedan.

Twelve stops, eight hours later, the bus ground to a halt in Lowenburg, Arkansas. Lowell went into the convenience store, microwaved himself a bean burrito and grabbed two bottles of apple juice. Then he gave in to his one vice and grabbed a king sized Reese’s peanut butter cup.

Ninety minutes later, a second Greyhound bus pulled to a stop in front of the convenience store. The five passengers wearily stepped up, the late afternoon still unbearably hot. Lowell politely took his place at the rear of the line and waited.

Waiting was no hardship, though. Directly in front of him was an attractive blonde that wore a tank top and khaki shorts. The shorts were very short indeed, giving tantalizing glimpses of the young woman’s sweetly rounded buttocks. As if to give Lowell a better view, the woman pulled her long blonde hair up off of her neck.

“My Gawd, it is so fucking hot out here, come on!” the girl complained as they waited on the bus driver to open the door of the bus.

Again, she hefted her honey blonde hair and fanned her sweating neck with her free hand. Lowell reached up and touched his freshly shorn head. Roland had dragged Lowell down to Putnam’s on August 5th and ordered a severe buzz cut for his son. The hair cut was simply Roland Truesdale once again flexing his parental muscles, proving to Lowell that he, Roland Truesdale was in charge, was in control.

Finally, the bus driver did open the door. Three passengers climbed down and wearily walked to the convenience store. The bus driver stepped off and waited for the boarding passengers.

“Afternoon,” the man politely greeted each new passenger.

An old woman did not return the man’s greeting; instead she let the man know she was not pleased that she’d had to wait so long before being allowed to board. The young blonde simply grunted a response before clambering onto the bus.

“Afternoon,” Lowell agreed, nodding politely to the driver.

The interior of the bus was dark and cool. Lowell did not see where the young blonde had gone to; the backs of the seats blocked easy viewing. He found an unoccupied bench and took the seat next to the window. The passengers waited while the driver enjoyed a few cigarettes and a cup of convenience store coffee.

As the bus rumbled west, Lowell reached into his backpack and pulled out his new Bible. His father had asked Lilah why she’d given Lowell a new Bible; Lowell already had a perfectly good, serviceable Bible.

Scattered throughout the new Bible, Lilah had secreted a ten dollar bill here, a five dollar bill trabzon escort bayan there. Altogether, the bills totaled two hundred dollars. Lowell wondered how Lilah had managed that feat; his father ruled the finances of the Truesdale home with an iron fist.

“Was that why Mom left your sanctimonious ass?” Lowell asked out loud.

The words of the good book were no longer visible. Lowell had a hazy recollection of a beautiful blonde woman that had been hugs and kisses and soft words. His mother had been a buffer, a cushion between Roland Truesdale and his older brothers RJ and Kyle and himself and his two sisters Kylie and Mindy.

With a sigh, Lowell put the bible into his backpack. There had been hushed, angry words. Words such as such as ‘judgement’ and ‘atonement’ and ‘wages of sin’ uttered.

Lowell did not see the bountiful greenery that paraded past his bus window. He remembered his mother, looking pale and drawn, coming into his room, kissing him softly and whispering that she loved him, she would always love him.

“Love you too Mom,” Lowell said as the vibrant colors flew past his window.

When asked where Trudy had gone to, Roland offered only vague answers. Just before Lowell was to start kindergarten, Roland Truesdale, Junior returned from Afghanistan in a pine box. Shortly after they buried the fallen hero, they suddenly moved from Ten Bear Lake, Minnesota to Stepping Stone, Louisiana. One small town, one trailer park pretty much looks like any other small town, small trailer park.

Volunteers of the church tried to ingratiate themselves into the Truesdale household, tried to take Trudy’s place. Lowell and Kyle and Kylie knew better than to act ungrateful or discourteous to the heavy-set, heavily rouged women. But they were not very warm or welcoming either.

Shortly before a very pregnant Lilah Quentin became Lilah Truesdale, Kyle and Kylie suddenly disappeared from their home. Roland was very tight-lipped about the incident or incidents that led up to the removal of the twins from their household.

There were no pictures of Kyle and Kylie. Their trophies were no longer on the cabinet in the living room. Their clothes and their books were no longer in the Truesdale trailer. One day, Kyle and Lowell hand shared a bedroom, Kylie and Mindy had shared the other bedroom. The next day, Lowell had his own room and Mindy had her own room.

Lowell thought about the two checks he had in his wallet; graduation gifts from Kyle and Kylie. Kyle and Kylie knew anything they sent to the trailer would be intercepted by Roland, and discarded unopened. So they had sent the two cards to Mrs. Begnell, the next door neighbor. The kindly old woman made sure to hand deliver the cards to Lowell after Roland had left for another day of work.

Kylie Eagan had written beautiful words of encouragement and pride and had included a one thousand dollar check. Kyle Truesdale had included a check for one thousand and one dollars with his card. The friendly, teasing sibling rivalry between the twins made Lowell smile. Also included with the checks were photographs of Lowell’s three nieces and one nephew.

“Hope and Faith Eagan, Christian and Grace Truesdale. Those the kind of names sinful deviants give to their kids?” Lowell asked, looking at the four small photos.

It was early morning when the bus ground to a halt in front of the Home Comfort Inn in Mynbdee, Arkansas. Lowell sluggishly donned his backpack and made his way to the front of the bus. He and the bus driver hefted Lowell’s footlocker from the luggage compartment. Then Lowell helped the bus driver with the attractive blonde’s two battered suitcases. The blonde did not bother to thank driver or Lowell as she wrestled the two heavy pieces into the lobby of the small motel.

A pleasant woman told Lowell and the blonde that the first shuttle to the university would be along in about an hour. The attached diner was open, though.

“You want a cup of coffee?” Lowell asked the attractive blonde.

“No thanks,” she spat and flounced over to a vinyl couch against a wall.

Lowell winced as he watched the girl plop down on the cheap couch. He knew, when she went to pull her sweaty skin from that couch, it would not be pleasant.

Two hours later, a tired escort trabzon looking young man entered the lobby. The clerk pointed to the slumbering girl. Lowell came out of the diner, lugging his footlocker.

Again, Lowell assisted with the heavy suitcases and again, the girl offered no thanks to either Lowell or the shuttle driver. Lowell did smirk at the sight of her reddened thighs and backside as she flounced onto the bus ahead of him.

Two and a half hours later, finally ensconced in his dorm room, Lowell sighed and pulled the new cell phone from his pocket. With a grimace, he hit the number 1 and waited.

“Reverend Truesdale,” Roland barked.

“I’m here,” Lowell tiredly said.

“Hmm? Took that long?” Roland asked. “Hmm. Maybe next time might let your mother and I drive you?”

“Oh? You know where my mother is?” Lowell asked.

“You watch that mouth, boy,” Roland ordered. “Don’t think for one minute…”

What the fuck you going do about it, Father?” Lowell was tempted to ask. “I’m here on a full academic scholarship. You paid for nothing.”

“Tell Mindy and Gail I love them,” Lowell interrupted his father’s threats and disconnected the call.

He turned the phone off and stretched out on the unmade bed. He slept through lunch and supper and would have slept through breakfast had others in the dormitory hall not been screaming and laughing.

After Freshman Orientation, Lowell found a First National Bank of Arkansas and opened an account. He deposited the two checks from Kylie and Kyle and the cashier’s check from his Penny Parish Savings she looked pointedly away when Lowell gave her a friendly little nod.

By Homecoming Week, Lowell was fitting in quite nicely to college life. He’d had a few dates, usually Benito’s Pizza and bowling, or Wedges Sandwiches and a movie. He’d even lost the last vestige of virginity when he rolled a condom on his erection and fucked Amy Dooley. Amy had been a loud, enthusiastic lover, and had really appreciated that Lowell knew how to eat pussy.

But when Lowell asked for a second date, the red headed beauty was always busy. An upper classman clued Lowell in; Amy rarely gave second dates. She believed life was too short to settle for any one guy, settle for any one cock.

Roger Terje, however, was not fitting into college life. By the time the Myndee Blue Jays trounced the Connelly Cougars in their Homecoming game, Roger had stopped going to classes. He had stopped showering or brushing his teeth. The only time Roger left the dorm room was to go downstairs to the common area to raid the vending machines for candy bars and sodas.

Lowell reported his concerns to Parker Trenton, the fourth floor student monitor. Parker’s response was a disinterested shrug.

“Truesdale, your boy’s an adult,” Parker sneered. “That’s what he wants to do? That’s what he wants to do.”

Lowell then reported his concerns to Dean Vincent Ludner, as well as Parker’s response to Lowell’s concerns. Parker was relieved of his position and Roger was removed from campus, to begin much needed therapy.

“One way to get your own room, Truesdale,” a fellow fourth floor resident joked. “Hey, Bobby, might report you; you looking mighty depressed there.”

“Hey, depress this, bitch,” Bobby retorted, grabbing his crotch. “Just stick out that tongue and say ‘ah!'”

“Hey, guys come on, ain’t nothing joke about,” Lowell protested. “Man, huh? Guy needed help.”

A week before mid-term exams, Lowell entered his Statistical Analysis class and saw both Passion and Kitty standing in front of Professor Jolet’s desk. Both girls had worried expressions on their faces.

“I tried that tutor you said,” Kitty complained. “All the guy did was stare at my boobs and tell me to work number five. Didn’t even tell me how to work number five.”

“Mr. Truesdale, are you still doing that study group?” Professor Jolet asked.

“”Huh? What study group?” Lowell almost asked when he saw Professor Jolet give him a sly wink.

“I uh, no sir, uh, two of them dropped the class and the other two said they had it from here,” Lowell said. “But I sure would like to get into another study group though.”

“Ms. Trueblue, Ms. Truehart, Mr. Truesdale has scored no lower than a ninety six on any test,” Professor Jolet suggested.

“When works for y’all?” Lowell asked.

“Three?” Passion asked Kitty.

“Yeah, fine,” Kitty huffed, holding her books squarely in front of her substantial chest.

“So, cafeteria or library works for y’all?” Lowell asked the two girls.

“Cafeteria? Ew,” Kitty made a face.

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