I’ve written a few stories so far, but this is my first one to ask for criticism and comments for. Actually, it’s my first real story that I’ve even put out on the Internet, too. It’s not done, but there’s definitely a personal timeline: it’s not going to end up as one of those thousands of “unfinished stories” floating out there. So without further ado, here is the first part of my short story, “Band Camp”!
I’ve always loved summer camp. Being outdoors, living primitively, everything. That said, however, I’ve always hated band camp. Sure, I love the music, my instrument (the trombone), everything. But I’ve always hated the camp itself. Being stuck inside a cramped practice hall, or marching incessantly to the inconsistent snare drum beat, I could never really enjoy myself.
I was going into my junior year when it happened. A band camp that was different from the one before, and the one before that. I’m not sure whether or not it was all for the best, or whether I’ve been permanently scarred in some way. But boy, did I have a…different experience.
It all started during marching practice. No playing music : just marching in time, in uniform, carrying large hunks of brass around the field. I envied the clarinetists and the flutists, having light, nimble instruments that didn’t weigh you down while you’re trudging across the field in rhythm. We marched in section – that meant that us trombonists were all together.
“Hey, Ben,” said a voice to my right. I looked over, and saw Rachel marching next to me. She had brown hair and a ponytail, which swished back and forth as she marched in tempo.
“Hey,” I said back.
“Are you excited for the sleep-over?” she asked.
“The sleep…what?”
“This year, we’re staying overnight tomorrow. It’s supposed to be for team bonding, but everyone knows it’s just an excuse to party in the school building. It’s empty during the summer, you know.”
“Huh.” I said. “I guess I’m excited then.” How had I not remembered that – it was pretty much the reason why I didn’t just fake a cold and a letter excusing me from the camp.
I’m going to sidetrack a bit here, and say this: I have had a huge crush on Rachel since middle school. You can’t imagine how happy I was when I found out that she was a trombonist. We’ve always sat together in band, but so far we’ve just been friends. So far, that is.
The next day, we all showed up with bags for clothes, sleeping bags, etc. After a grueling 5 hours of marching, playing, practicing formations, more marching, the practice finally came to an end. We all went inside the cafeteria for a celebratory barbecue; after all, this was the last day of band camp, which was cause for celebration in itself!
I sat down at a table, and Rachel sat down next to me. Soon after, 3 other girls sat down at the table: Marissa, a trumpet player, Faye, and flutist, and Leila, a clarinetist.
“So,” said Marissa, her frizzy brown hair bouncing up and down, “Have you seen the incoming freshman football players? I hear they’re really hot!”
"Well, said Leila, pulling aside her long black hair, “I doubt anyone here has a chance at all. We’re in band, remember?”
“True,” said Faye, her blonde hair staying as straight as ever, “but football players aren’t really where it’s at anyways: they’re all brawn and no brain. I’d be damned if I even had to sit in the same room as any of them for an hour, much less date one!”
“Well,” I said, “You’re not in retard-level classes, so you’re safe on that one. Is there even one football player in honors English?” The four girls laughed. I could tell that they all liked me as friends, and I had my suspicions about “secret” crushes with Leila and Faye at the very least.
The rest of dinner went mostly like this. After dinner, I was taken into the gym, where the boys were going to be sleeping. The girls were sleeping somewhere else, obviously. I changed from my uniform into some jeans and a T-shirt in the bathroom with the rest of the boys, and went back to the cafeteria for, well, the party.
Once in the cafeteria, I met up with Rachel, Faye, Marissa, and Leila. All the boys were obviously jealous that I got along so well with the girls. I always respond that the girls are at least mature enough to hang out with. The last time I hung out with guys, it turned into a conversation about sex. Frankly, I don’t really care for all that talk: we weren’t even 18, and I didn’t want to get involved with that kind of thing until after high school.
Anyways, the “party” was originally supposed to have classical band music, but that option was vetoed from the start. Off with the Beethoven, and on with, well crappy rap music. As much as Bach and Beethoven were boring, the only people who really like rap music were the drummers. But that was a lot of people, and they all had sticks and the skills to beat things with them, so the rest of us weren’t well-inclined to protest. Instead, the party began to split up.
All the different cliches within the band: the nerds, the classical music enthusiasts, the popular crowd, etc. went off to explore the school. Admittedly, the enire party was poorly planned on the teachers’ part: after all, the school was empty, and there was little supervision within the party – certainly not enough to keep track of dozens of groups throughout the entire campus. Of course, most of the groups weren’t so there wasn’t much opportunity for…well…things to happen, shall we say. Plus, we were all band geeks. What was the worst a tuba player could get into? Apparently a lot, as there were rumors already going around about the saxophones planning some shady business in the staff lounge.
The girls and I decided to go and hang out in one of the classrooms on the far end of the school. It was strangely empty: the teachers hadn’t moved in yet, so there were only a few desks, a few chairs, and some empty cardboard boxes.
“So,” I said casually, “what’s the plan?”
“You’ll see,” said Leila, giggling. I shrugged. Marissa and Rachel were off “getting supplies”, so it was just Leila, Faye and I alone in the room.
“So, Ben…” said Leila, “I heard that you like Rachel.”
“Well of course,” I replied, “we’re friends, right?”
“No,” said Faye, “I mean, that you like Rachel.” I realized what they were saying. My face flushed red, and Leila and Faye began to giggle.
"You do like her, don’t you, said Leila, climbing up on one of the desks. She got on her knees and put her finger on my forehead. “Don’t you?”
“Well…” I said, blushing harder, “Uh…well…yeah, kinda.” Leila jumped down, and laughed.
“Cool,” she said, “Just checking. I’ve had my suspicions for a while now.” Faye and Leila laughed, while Marissa and Rachel walked in, carrying a large duffel bag. It was really big; big enough that it only barely fit through the door. It looked bulky and heavy, too.
“What’s in there?” I asked.
“Don’t open it just yet,” said Rachel, “Just wait here for us until we get back.” They all left the room, leaving me alone with the bag. Now I know what you’re thinking. But no, I didn’t go and open the bag while they weren’t there.
A few minutes later, the girls all came back. However, they all seemed to be wearing clothes to sleep in. Leila was wearing light pink footie pajamas with hearts on them – somehow I wasn’t surprised that she would wear those kinds of pajamas. Faye was wearing a light blue nightdress. Rachel was wearing normal-looking yellow pajamas: a soft looking, long-sleeve shirt and pants to go with it, Marissa was…uh…in her bra and panties. I have to be honest, I was both excited and confused about her clothes.
“Wh-what is this?” I stammered.
“Well, it’s a slumber party, so we’re in our “pajamas!”” said Leila. I was going to say something else, but I bit my tongue on it.
“Fine, so should I go get on my “pajamas” too?” I asked.
“No,” said Marissa, “Just open up the bag now.” I shrugged. I walked over to the bag, and knelt down to unzip it. When I fully unzipped it, I pulled it open. What was in the bag surprised me. These are the…supplies? I thought. In the bag, in plain sight, was what looked like…a bunch of baby stuff. Diapers, a pacifier, a fold-up high chair, a baby bottle…
“What is all this?” I asked, confused. Suddenly, I felt Leila and Faye grab my arms. I struggled to break free, but, well, I was never good at athletics.
“What’s going on?!” I yelled. The four girls just laughed. Marissa and Rachel put together two desks, and all four girls grabbed me and lifted me up onto a table. I screamed as loud as possible, but Rachel ran over and closed the door. The rooms were quite soundproof, so it was clear that I wasn’t going to be getting anyone’s attention. To be honest, I was surprised that the girls could incapacitate me so quickly – I was completely constrained by just two of them, and could probably be restrained by just one of them, knowing my own strength, or lack thereof.
Laughing, Leila and Marissa proceeded to strip off my shirt and pants, leaving me in just my boxers. I looked pleadingly at them not to go the next step. Leila looked mischievously at me, and with one smooth motion, pulled off my underwear, leaving me completely naked. My life is over, I thought hopelessly.
Rachel then went the duffel and pulled out the diapers.
“Oh no,” I said, realizing what she was planning to do. I struggled to get free, but it was as futile as ever. Faye helped lift up my legs, and Rachel, smiling and all the way, shifted the diaper under my butt and taped it shut. If my brain hadn’t already died from a million and one emotions flying through my head simultaneously, it did now. I snapped.
“OK, fucking enough!” I yelled, mustering the strength to break free momentarily . Marissa and Leila both immediately ran and blocked the door. I stood up and faced them.
“What the fuck is this.” I said. “What the FUCK is THIS?!” Faye and Rachel looked at each other, and Rachel whispered something into Faye’s ear. Faye nodded. Suddenly, without warning, they pounced on me, pinning me back to the desk.
“Stop, dammit!” I yelled, trying once again to break free. “What the hell is wrong with --” I was interrupted quite rudely, as Marissa walked over with a pacifier and stuck it in my mouth. Before I could spit it out, Leila grabbed a leather strap and strapped it to my head.
“Mph! Mmmmph!!!” I said in vain. The girls all laughed again. It was clear that this was all a set-up, and all four of my “friends” were planning this crap.
“Oh Ben,” said Marissa, “I’m sorry for this next step, but it’ll all get better afterwards. I promise.” I didn’t know what she meant until she procured a terrifyingly sharp syringe from the duffel bag. The green liquid inside it looked disturbingly like poison, although my rational mind dismissed this thought, replacing them with dozens of equally irrational thoughts. I looked helplessly, pleadingly, terrified at Marissa, who was brandishing the needle like it was a pencil newly sharpened. She stepped towards me, and stuck the needle into my left arm. Immediately, a surge of pain went through my arm as she injected the unnervingly green liquid into my vein.
I tried to speak, but I felt nauseous before I could even notice that the girls had all released me. I stood up, but tripped and fell on my diapered butt.
“Nighty-night,” said Rachel, smiling chillingly at me.
The next thing I knew, I was laying down, opening my eyes looking at the ceiling. With an uncomfortably large effort, I sat up. I was lying on a cushioned floor – it looked like it was a bunch of blankets arrayed across the floor. I looked around: I was in a cushioned corner of the room, which was walled off by what looked like modular playpen walls. As I came to my senses, I concluded that I was in a makeshift playpen.
Ok, I thought, Why am in a playpen? Thinking hard, I remembered the events that had occurred leading up to waking up. It was the moment I remembered what happened that I heard Faye’s voice.
“Hey, he’s awake!” called the voice. I looked to the other sided of the room: Rachel, Faye, Leila, and Marissa were standing up from a cluster of chairs in the far corner of the room. A sudden feeling of dread washed over me as they walked towards me. I was speechless with dread, actually. I tried to stand up, but my muscles seemed to be numb and unresponsive – I fell on my butt before I could gain my balance. I thought back to the green liquid. It wasn’t poison, it was…a drug?
“How are you doing, Ben?” asked Rachel, stepping over the playpen walls. “No, actually, don’t answer that. I think that you’re just fine right now.”
“Hey Ben,” said Marissa, sitting down next to me, “Remember how I told you it’s all going to get better from here? Well, I’m going to keep my promise.”
“Ben”, said Leila, “We’ll make sure that you have fun too, ok?”
“We’ve got lots of plans for you tonight,” said Faye hauntingly. They were now all sitting down in the playpen next to me. They were surrounding me like gang members closing in on a helpless girl. I felt weak, small, and frightened.
“H-hold on!” I managed to say. “Can I ask a question?”
“Sure,” said Rachel, “What is it?”
“…What are you fucking doing?!” I spat angrily. Leila looked at Marissa.
“There’s no harm in telling him, right?” Leila asked Marissa.
“Yeah, it’s probably best if he knows what he’s getting into before we start.” replied Marissa.
“Ok,” said Leila, turning back to me. Leila almost looked innocent in her pink footie pajamas. Almost. “Um”, she started, “Well, us four got together a few weeks ago and decided to, well, play a game. With you, that is.”
“We took a poll of what we would have the most fun doing, and, well, babying you was on the top of the list.”
“So…yeah. We have plenty of diapers, blankets and a playpen, a fold-up high chair, a pacifier, a baby bottle, and a whole 'nother duffel bag full of surprises for you. And we’ve got the entire night, too.” The words “entire night” made me flinch. I understood what they were going to do, and I knew there was no chance of escaping – not with 4 girls on my case, secrets for them to keep, and me still being kind of drowsy from the drug.
“You do realize that this is illegal, right?” I said, “You’re not planning on killing me, right? Because you know that the first thing I’d do once the night is over is go to the police. Right?”
“Of course we knew you’d say that!” said Marissa, “Which is why we have…this!” She pulled out a second syringe, which seemed to be full of a milky white fluid. “This is a kind of special drug made from crystal flunitrazepam, GHB and alcohol – all drugs that cause memory loss and unconsciousness. Maybe a little brain damage too, but nothing you’ll miss.”
“That’s…” I started, terrified, “that’s insane! You went as far as to get a designer drug to have “fun” with me?”
“We borrowed it from Marissa,” said Rachel, “She has…sources, and we took advantage of them.”
“Well,” said Faye, “We may not need to use it after all.”
“What do you mean?” asked Rachel, looking confused. Obviously, this wasn’t part of the plan.
“Well,” said Faye, “There’s more than one way to keep someone quiet. We could blackmail him, with embarrassing photos and things. That’s easy enough to do. But I don’t think that would work this time, we’ve already gone too far for that. So, we’ve got to go further than blackmail. Instead of negative reinforcement, we should use positive reinforcement!”
All 4 of us looked at Faye, confused. Faye shook her head. “Let me put it like this. We do something for Ben that makes up for this. If it’s something he wants, Ben won’t rat us out, because then he wouldn’t be able to keep it.”
“Give it up,” I said, “There’s nothing that you can give me that would make up for this shit.”
“Oh really?” asked Faye, tilting her head, “What about Rachel? You…want Rachel, right?” I stopped for a moment. Despite everything, I still liked Rachel – it was too ingrained in my subconscious for me to drop the feelings that I had let grow in my mind for years. But what did Faye mean about me “wanting” Rachel? And would it make up for what I was about to go through?
“Ben,” said Rachel, “I think I know what Faye means. I-- I actually really like you, Ben. As a friend. If you don’t tell anyone about this, I think…I think we could become more than just friends.” I know, I know. Cheesier than a bad romance movie. But…at the time, I was still kind of asleep from whatever I was waking up from. And boy, did she look pretty at the time.
“Uh…” I said blankly.
“Hm?” said Marissa, “If not, you can always risk permanent brain damage from the crystal flunitrazepam --”
“No!” I said quickly. I paused, thinking it over once more. “I mean, I guess I’ll take Rachel up on that offer?” All four of the girls breathed an audible sigh of relief. I actually took comfort in the fact that they weren’t totally bent on destroying my well-being for the sake of cheap fun.
“Oh Ben,” said Rachel, “Thank you so much. And I hope that you have fun tonight too. I mean, it wouldn’t be fun for us if you didn’t have fun.”
“cough* and be totally humiliated cough*” said Marissa painfully obviously. The other three girls looked at her sternly, but she just shrugged and looked at me expectantly.
“Sooooo.” I said. Blank silence filled the room with an uncomfortable air of incompleteness… “Ahem,” I cleared my throat, “What’s the…uh, plan?”
“Oh,” said Marissa, winking like an overly-dramatized anime character. “Don’t you worry about that!”