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Treats for Freaks

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Treats for Freaks



Starting Date: November 2, 2011 (11/02/11)



CHAPTER ONE

(word count for chapter: 2,006; completed: 11/02/11)



He used to be popular – once upon a time, when he was a 7th grader in his original town. Now, he was

just another loser in the junior year of high school. Dressing all freakish – like some pathetic Goth, he

scared away most people, and brought out the disgust in others. Caleb was the seventeen-year-old’s

name. Originally from deep in the redneck fields of Alabama, he was now transplanted to a place near

Sacramento, California. That redneck accent of his didn’t help him any; plus it was strange to see some

Goth guy talking with such an accent, you know?



Looking over at the sleeping beast aside me, his snores decibels louder than a chainsaw – or so I

imagined in my angry state of being, I shook my head and closed my eyes. Maybe he'll vanish into thin

air if I think him away, I thought.



Please make this guy go away.



Please let me open my eyes and see nobody beside me.



Please make him vanish into thin air!



I opened up my eyes and that tall, pale sleeping beast was still there. His snores seemed to grow louder

by the second."Wake up," I whispered to him as I shoved my elbow into his side.



Snort. Snore. Snore. Peace and quiet. Ridiculously loud snort that sounded like a pig about to be

slaughtered. Quiet snort. Quiet snore. Loud, ear grating snore. Blue irises peeping out from squinting

eyelids, pupils looking around aimlessly. Rustling of covers as arms snuck out from under the sheets.



“You finally up?” I asked as my eyes met his, my stare ice cold.



“Whaa – whaa—“ was all he managed to mumble as he reclosed his eyes.



Slap to one cheek. Slap to the other. Punch to the stomach. Good god, I sure wish I could do that to him

right about now! But instead, I continued to sit there staring down at him. “Caleb, wake up! You fell

asleep in my bed…”



“I—I—I—accidentally—uhh—wet my diaper,” Caleb mumbled in between his snores and snorts.

“Momma, can you get me a new one?”



As I laughed hysterically, I grasped a hold of his body and shook him violently. “Wake up, you snoring

monster!”



And with one loud snort, Caleb opened his eyes and looked around. “Beth, you ain’t supposed to let me

sleep.”



“It’s not my fault! You just got into my bed and instantly fell asleep. I’ve been trying to wake you, but

you’re a heavy sleeper!”



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He lifted the covers from his body and slid his feet down to the ground. “Did I say anything weird?”



As I looked over at Caleb with a big smile, a sneer naturally took over my face. “You wet your diaper and

asked your mom for a new one.”



Caleb’s cheeks turned at least four shades of red as he looked up at me, then down at his feet. “Tell you

what, Beth; if you keep that big mouth of yours shut and tell nobody ‘bout that stupid thing I said, I’ll let

you take a ride on my motorcycle.”



“Deal,” I said, smiling, as I took his hand and shook it.



Okay, so it was kind of obvious: me and this loser are friends. It’s hard to resist his hillbilly accent and

boyish face. Even with the stubble and gothic makeup and badass clothes, he still looked boyish to me –

and I absolutely adored that!



He had four little brothers; a short, fat momma who cooked great southern food and made you feel like

the prettiest damn thing that ever walked through the door; and a tall, lean poppa who worked his ass

off to give his family what they wanted, all while trying to keep up with the slew of animals they owned.

We have been friends since he moved here last year; and have been best friends for six months now. As

much as I loved the guy like any best friend would, he really disappointed me: from the failing grades to

the going out and getting drunk and high to the sleeping around with girls to mutilating and harming

himself.



Looking over at the guy and noticing how tired and miserable he looked, I brought a hand to his

shoulder and squeezed it. “Partying last night?”



Caleb shamefully nodded his head. “I got so wasted last night that I was puking my guts out for hours.”



I wrapped both my arms around his body and leaned him back against mine. “It really kills me when you

do this to yourself.”



“Sorry.”



“You don’t need to say sorry.” I sighed as I tightened my grip. “I’m just saying that I hate to see you hurt

yourself like this. Your body can only take so much abuse, you know?”



“I know.”



“And I really hope you use protection when you sleep around with those skanks.”



He threw my hands off his body and stood up. “They ain’t skanks,” he mumbled as he walked forward.

“They’re the girls no other guy would sleep with…”



I got up from my bed and walked toward him. “Why would you go after girls like that?”



Turning around and looking over at me, Caleb mumbled, “I don’t want no diseases.”



“You’re too cute of a guy to sleep around with ugly girls,” I told him. “Plus, how do you know no other

guy’s been with them? They can just as easily be diseased, Caleb.”



Caleb came over to me and gave me an enormous bear hug. “If you think I’m such a cute guy, why ain’t

you my girl?”



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Resting my head against his chest and smelling the stale cigarette smoke that permeated his shirt, I

sighed quietly and said, “Don’t, Caleb. We’ve already been through this.”



Caleb has been trying to woo me ever since we became friends. I hated when he would do it because I

really had no romantic interest in him. He wasn’t my type. Skinny, pale, and over six feet tall with

stereotypical dyed black emo boy hair, he was far from my type. I absolutely detested a guy wearing any

kind of makeup – especially Gothic makeup. And piercings? Yuck! Caleb had snake bites – which was a

ring piercing on each side of his bottom lip—, a septum piercing consisting of a small ring (yuck! I hated

that one the most), and his tongue, nipples and ears pierced. And then there were the other reasons: an

at least a-pack-a-day smoker, regularly getting drunk and high, cutting himself with knives and razors,

and just, well, all in all, his badass reputation and doings.



He was offended that I basically told him to shut up. “You know what? I wouldn’t be sleeping around if I

had you, Bethany.”



“I wouldn’t be sleeping with you.”



“Doesn’t matter. I’d wait till you were ready. I respect you, Ms. Beth, haven’t you realized that?”



I’ll admit: I absolutely adored when he would call me Ms. Beth. It was so freaking adorable! Only a

Southern boy would. Every time he would do it, I couldn’t help but grab him and hug him till he was

about to suffocate.



“Aww, Mr. Caleb,” I said as I threw my arms around him and hugged him to the point of suffocation.



Once I released my grip, he looked down at me and grinned. “See? I know how to make you all giddy.

Haven’t you ever wanted a Southern boy to take good care of you, sweetie?”



Placing my hand on his head, I messed up his hair and playfully shouted, “You ain’t no Southern boy;

you’re a Class A Hillbilly!”



Caleb grabbed the root of my ponytail and pulled me toward his body. “I’m a Hillbilly and damn proud of

it,” he joked back. “Now give me a kiss, darlin’!”



Pulling his face close to mine, I turned around and kissed his cheek. “There,” I said as I looked up into his

eyes and grinned. “I kissed you. Happy now?”



He dove his face back toward mine and kissed me on the lips. It caught me by surprise, thus resulting in

me backing away. “Now I’m happy,” he replied, grinning.



That was the first time he had ever done something like that, and it really surprised me. I sat down on

my bed and looked up at him. “Why’d you kiss me?”



Caleb came over and sat down next to me. Once he placed a hand on my thigh, he leaned over and

placed his cheek against mine. “Don’t be stupid, Beth. You know how I feel about you.”



“Yeah,” I said, grabbing his hand and throwing it off my thigh, “and I don’t feel the same way about

you.”



He got up from my bed and threw his arms up in frustration. “Just give me a chance, okay?”



“Caleb, you know that me and you will never work out,” I told him.



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“I’ll stop the drinking and getting high. And I’ll work on improving my grades in school. Oh, and of course

I won’t sleep around again.”



It was sweet to hear that he was willing to stop doing bad things and improve his life, but I didn’t know

whether he’d actually go through with it or not. I brought a hand up to his cheek and caressed it. “You’re

my best friend, and I love you like a best friend should.”



Being the daring guy he was, he again dove in close to my lips and kissed them. “You’re my best friend,

but I love you more than a best friend should.”



This kiss around felt different than the first; I actually kind of enjoyed it – only kind of.



“You liked it, didn’t you?” Caleb was grinning from ear to ear.



I blushed and smiled and looked all around, but I did tell the truth. “Kinda.”



But we were just best friends, not lovers. Not even future lovers. I didn’t have those kind of feelings for

him. Caleb was just my best friend, and that was it. There was no way I could fall for the guy. Nope. Even

though he was very expressive with his feelings for me, I was quite expressive with my lack of feelings

for him. I guess he was too hard headed to realize that there wasn’t any hope. Or was there? I’ll admit:

sometimes I would imagine what it’d be like to have him as a boyfriend, but those thoughts would only

lead to horror.



“C’mon, Bethers, you know you’d love having me as your boyfriend. It’d mean gettin’ to hear my hillbilly

accent more, and being able to be touch and kiss my boyish face.”



“I already get to do all that by just being your best friend.” I punched his arm and giggled. “Anyway, why

would I want some hick of a boy?”



Thinking to himself, all while smiling, he finally answered back. “Cause, every awesome girl needs herself

a hick boy. I know how to hunt and fish, and damn am I good in the sack!”



“Good, that means you can help me sack the potatoes,” I joked, laughing hard.



Caleb sneered and shook his head. “Not that sack.”



I shoved him forward. “I knew what you meant, perv!”



He couldn’t wipe that sneer from off his face. “Hey, I was just being honest.”



“Where’s the proof?” I shoved him again.



Instead of more talking, he brought his hands down to his pants and unzipped them. “Well…” he began

to say, now unbuttoning them. “I can prove it right now.”



“Keep your pants on, freak,” I said, sneering, as I shoved him further away from me. “I don’t want to see

your junk! Yuck!”



Caleb reciprocated my shove, and then he zipped up and buttoned his jeans. “I better get going anyway,

sweetie. I’ll call you later tonight, okay?”









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“Okay,” I said as I watched him stand up and walk toward my bedroom door. “Don’t let the door hit your

ass on the way out!”



He turned around and smiled at me. “I’ll make sure it does.” And with that, he exited my room.



CHAPTER TWO

(word count for chapter: 2,666; completed: 11/03/11)



I’ll admit that as a fifteen-year-old, I was real close with my parents. We were sitting at the dinner table

and my mom asked me how things with Caleb were. I told both my parents that we were still only best

friends – as it would always be – but that he kept persisting on us dating. My dad, being the liberal

college professor he was, told me that I just needed to give the poor guy a chance. After his comment,

my mom said she whole heartedly agreed. She was a math teacher at the local middle school, and had

her Master’s degree. Want to guess what my dad had his PhD in? Psychology. During the school year, he

taught psychology courses; but during the summers, he was a psychologist. Those were the Gradys for

you. Oh, and of course, then there was the little Grady: ten-year-old Tessa. That little blonde haired rat

had a major crush on Caleb. Pathetic, huh? At least he was nice enough to talk and hang out with her.



Not wanting to start anything, but wanting to know why they thought that, I asked them why – why I

should give Caleb a chance.



“He’s a great kid,” said my dad while he shoveled bite-size pieces of London broil into his mouth. “I think

he’d take care of you well.”



And then my mom cut in. “Like your father said, the guy’s a sweetheart. Remember when he bought you

a box of chocolates and a vase full of red and white roses on Valentine’s day? And then he took you all

the way to San Francisco for a day at the beach – and also for dinner at that fancy restaurant.”



Okay, so my mom was right about that: on Valentine’s day, Caleb gave me chocolates and roses, and

then he took me to San Francisco and we spent the whole day having a blast on the beach. At lunch

time, he brought out a picnic basket full of food he had cooked, and we had a great picnic right by the

waves. Once dinner time came around, we changed clothes and he took me out to this real expensive

upscale restaurant that had the most gorgeous views of the Golden Gate. At the end of it all, as we sat in

his car in a beach parking lot at night, just watching the waves, I asked him why he did all this. He told

me that it was because I was the most special girl to him, and that a best friend like me deserved to be

spoiled rotten. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and hugged him tightly. After hugging, we both unbuckled

our seat belts and went into the back to cuddle. It was there that he told me that I was the only girl he

would ever want as his girlfriend.



Caleb and I were always together, to the point that my parents would kid around about us being

attached by the hip. Both our parents, too, would constantly talk and hang out; his and mine were best

friends, and always planning parties and events together. It was pretty surprising how close all of us

could be when it was just last year that they moved out here.



We first met when I was walking my dog down the street. A few houses down was a U-Haul parked in

the driveway of a house that was just recently bought. As I walked slowly past a large, old Oak in the

front yard of the house, I heard some coughing, and then a voice saying, “Nice dog. He’s a miniature

schnauzer, right?”





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As I stopped dead in my tracks and looked over, I saw a tall, thin guy step out from the shadows of the

Oak and present himself to me. He was smoking a cigarette and grinning as he scanned me from top to

bottom. “My name’s Caleb Mason. Me and my family just got here today.”



The first thing that caught my attention was his southern drawl. It was such a thick accent, yet very

sultry. The deepness and smoothness of his voice completed it for me. I was hooked on just that voice

alone. But then I looked up at him and noticed the piercings on his face and the makeup he wore. Yuck.

But trying to make my best impression, I smiled and reached out for his hand. Upon shaking it, I said in

the friendliest voice I could manage, “Nice to meet you, Caleb. I’m Bethany – but everyone calls me

Beth.”



His handshake was so firm that it caught me by surprise. “That’s a purdy name for such a beautiful gal

like yourself.”



Thankfully it was dark, so he couldn’t see me blush. “You think?”



Caleb took my hand and held it in his. “I know, sweetheart,” he cooed to me as he leaned down and

kissed my hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”



“You too,” I hurriedly said as I pulled back my hand and took a step away from him. “I better get going,

though. My schnauzer’s going to freak if he doesn’t get his nightly walk!”



He stepped forward and put his hand on my head. “Come back here tomorrow, at the same time,

okay?”



“Okay,” I said as I looked over and noticed my miniature schnauzer, Wishes, whimpering and pulling at

the leash.



“Without your bearded friend.” Caleb grinned and messed with my hair. “I’d like to get to know the

sweet thing that just walked by my house and whose beauty almost made me swallow my cigarette.”



I kicked my feet against the pavement and blushed as I stood there grinning like an idiot. “You’ll have to

try harder than that, country boy.”



That was when the guy I had just met, completely surprised me; he slithered his hand toward my butt

and squeezed. “This Alabama boy ain’t even started on trying to woo a California girl like yourself, sugar.

I’m expecting to see you out here at this time tomorrow.”



Being the competitive person I was, I surprised him more by grabbing at his crotch and squeezing.

“You’ll see me alright. Tomorrow, right here on your front lawn.”



“Damn, sweets,” began Caleb, his hand squeezing my butt again. “You sure know how to get a guy all

worked up, huh?”



It was weird to think that that was our first ever conversation. Shaking away the memories of when we

first met from my head, I looked up at my parents and nodded my head. “Yeah, he’s real sweet.”







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The conversation ended at that moment because that little blonde rat cut in and kept going on and on

about her stupid dolls! Once I was done with dinner and excused myself from the table, I went into my

room and picked up my cell phone. As I dialed Caleb’s number, I secretly hoped he wouldn’t answer

because I suddenly realized the stupidity of why I was calling.



He picked up alright. “Hey, babycakes,” he jokingly said into the phone, laughing, then coughing. “Calling

to have me sneak into your room and cuddle with you?”



“Maybe,” I replied, smiling. “Or maybe I called to see if you still wanted me.”



There was a whole bunch of noise in the background. Screaming, crying, yelling. It made me wonder

what was up over there. "I’d have to think about it.” I could hear the guy laughing his head off now. “The

cuddling, that is.”



“I swear, if I were there right now, I’d shove you off the bed!”



“I ain’t even on a bed! I’m babysittin’ four little monsters. God bless ‘em.”



“Your brothers, huh?”



“Mhm. My parents are at this fancy smancy party, and I had to stay home to watch the little monsters.

Fun, ain’t it?”



“Could I come over and hang out?”



“You know I always want that ass of yours sitting on the couch or bed or chair at my place. C’mon over,

Beth, and let’s chill. It’s been a couple of days since we hung out.”



After asking for permission from my parents to see him and getting the OK to do so, I headed over to his

place. He was just a few houses down from mine.



The door flew open the second I rang the doorbell.



“He ain’t here, so bug the hell off,” his eight-year-old brother Jared screamed at me.



His three other brothers were twelve-year-old Jacob, six-year-old Ryan, and three-year-old Daniel.



Caleb slapped Jared upside the head and pushed him away. “You don’t yell at a lady,” he scolded. “I

reckon you deserve a timeout for that shitty behavior. Momma ain’t gonna accept yellin’ like that, you

little eight-year-old brat!”



“She ain’t no lady!” Jared yelled.



“Keep on testing my patience, and I’ll show you where to go.”



Jared slammed his fist against Caleb’s back and began to scream bloody murder. “I’m gonna tell momma

you had a girl over!”





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Caleb and Jared fought – a lot. Neither one liked the other, and they were always bickering, bemoaning

and bitching at each other.



Shoving away Jared, Caleb signaled me in and led me to one of the couches in the family room. Daniel

and Ryan were sitting on the couch watching a kid’s horror movie, whereas Jacob was nearby in the

kitchen confessing his love to his crush on the phone. Sitting among a crowd of boys, I felt awkward. I

knew them all well, but it was still awkward; mainly because Jared and Ryan absolutely hated my guts.



I turned to Caleb and touched his back. “Hey,” I whispered, “can we go to your room?”



The Masons had a four bedroom house, and Caleb got a bedroom all to himself. His brothers had to

share two rooms among the four of them. Surprisingly, he had a very modern-looking bedroom, and it

wasn’t all creepy and Gothy looking; it was just normal.



Caleb brought his lips to my ear. “It’s best we remain out here,” he whispered, a low giggle escaping.

“I’m so fucking horny right now.”



Ugh. I hated when he would tell me things like that. But of course, being as close as we were, he would

share many thoughts of his that were very sexual, disgusting or strange in nature. I was pretty well used

to it by now. “Need a blowjob?” I teased as I brought my hands to his jeans zipper.



Looking into my eyes with a smile on his face, he touched his hand to mine. “Really?”



I shoved him away and made a disgusted face. “Ew, no way! You think I’d wanna put my mouth on your

junk?!”



He moved his hand down to my thighs and slid it to the crotch of my pants. “I think you’d let me put my

mouth on yours.”



Slapping his hand away, I laughed and said, “Gross! There’s no way I’d let any part of you near my

crotch!”



Then that was when I realized that I just lied. Before I could say anything, Caleb spoke up. “Mhm, sure.

Remember that time you let –“



“No,” I interrupted. “I don’t want to bring up those memories.”



It was only out of curiosity. That’s the only reason I let him slid his hand down my pants. There were no

romantic feelings or lusty desires that came about from him touching me down there. It was purely for

the sakes of knowing how it felt. We both agreed that we would never again talk about it, and so far, we

hadn’t – until today. I hated to be confronted about things we had done in the past; it just brought up

the sickening memories of me allowing Caleb to touch me and all. Yuck.



“How about we go to my room?” Caleb’s deep blue eyes glistened innocently as he grasped my hand

and squeezed. “I promise I’ll be a good boy, like I always am when I’m with you.”



Good was pushing it. Sure, he wouldn’t do things that I would absolutely not allow him to do, but he still

tried to push his luck by doing and saying certain things that extended past the just best friends



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boundaries. Last time I was alone with him in his room when he was in a horny mood, he had his hands

up my shirt and was groping me. I had to scream at him before he finally stopped.



We ended up going to his room. Once there, he laid down on his bed and had me lay next to him. “If I

were your boyfriend, Beth, and you were ready, I’d make sweet, passionate love with you,” Caleb

whispered into my ear as he stroked his fingers through my hair.



Laying there, facing the window, I stared out at the changing leaves blowing through the fierce winds;

watching the trees sway back and forth made me think of the times Caleb would hold me and rock me

back and forth in his arms, until I would fall asleep. It was Caleb who made me feel comfortable in my

own skin, and comfortable being my true self. There was no holding back when I was with him; being

myself came naturally. I loved the feelings of his long, thick fingers ever so gently stroking through my

hair as he held me tight. As he continued to talk about how wonderful our love making would be, I

began to imagine how it would go: whether it’d hurt or be enjoyable; be awkward or come naturally;

and how long it would last before we finally stopped.



“Have you ever made love before, Caleb?”



He stopped stroking my hair, and kissed my cheek. “Of course not,” he whispered, the warmth of his

breath against my neck causing my skin to tingle all over. “The only one I would ever make love to is

you.”



An intense feeling of warmth radiating all over my body brought a strange feeling to my mind. It was like

I felt some sort of attraction – albeit very mild – toward Caleb. It must have been because of his

personality and the way he made me feel. There wasn’t another guy as sweet and caring as him; at least

not out of the ones I had met.



I already could talk to him almost any time I wanted. I already was allowed to touch and stare at and kiss

his adorable face. Some mornings I would even wake up to one of his wonderful smiles and his arms

wrapped around my body. So, what would even be the point of us dating when we already had such a

close connection with one another? Sex almost always ruins the equilibrium of a fantastic friendship. It

makes a once great platonic friendship turn into the sourest milk ever tasted, in a matter of no time.

Becoming girlfriend and boyfriend could turn us against each other; and then what if we broke up? Our

friendship would shatter into millions of little pieces, thus never being able to be replaced. Exes are

usually never friends again, even if they originally started out as friends or even best friends.



“I know you’re probably thinking that we’d never work out, but have you seriously ever thought about

you and me together?”



No, not really. Well… no, for the most part. Yes on other parts. But pretty much, no.



“No.”



“Just please give me a chance, Bethany? You’re the only one I want. I don’t want no other girl.”



I thought about it – a lot, for the minute or two I had before he demanded a response.



“Well?”



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I made up my mind. “I’ll give you a chance – but only once,” I finally said, smiling. “If it works, it works; if

it doesn’t, promise we’ll still be besties?”



“I swear to God we’ll still be besties,” he enthusiastically responded as he wrapped his arms around me

and squeezed to the point of suffocation. “You’re gonna love having me as a boyfriend, Beth!”



CHAPTER THREE



Just picture this scenario in your head:



A guy. Six-foot-something, one hundred and sixty pounds – at most .Dyed black hair slicked back and

fitted with a beige cowboy hat. A pair of tight Wrangler jeans worn with a black leather belt that was

equipped with a black and red skull belt buckle. Tucked into his Wranglers was a red and white plaid

western long sleeve shirt. He had a red bandana perfectly tied around his neck, and chocolate colored

western boots with thick heels worn on his feet. In his right hand was a black riding whip that was being

tapped against the arena fencing. The guy looked like a total cowboy, and all you knew was that you

would love to see him riding his buckskin Quarter horse around the barrels and toward a group of

spooked calves.



Caleb was free of makeup and had taken out his piercings (so they wouldn’t get caught on anything),

and he looked so damn hot in his western riding clothes. Yum! He wasn’t a cowboy hat guy, but he wore

it because he knew how much I loved when he’d look like a total cowboy. The guy looked great in tight

jeans because it showed off his butt; the only fat he had (not much) went straight to his ass, thus

resulting in a nice ass that any girl would love to look at and touch.



Watching him ride Bucky – his buckskin Quarter horse stallion – around the arena, made an intrusive

thought bomb my mind; a thought of him naked in one of the empty stalls in the horse barn, laying

down in the hay, with a bandana around his neck and a hat covering his junk. The thought progressed

further now: I came into the barn, staring into the stall and wanting to jump his bones as I watched him

light up a cigarette and signal for me to come join him in the hay. I opened the stall door and speed

walked in, immediately stripping once I closed the door. And then, I grasped the hat from off his crotch,

threw it to the side, and got atop him and allowed his penis to penetrate me.



Gosh, did that intrusive thought make me feel ever so dirty. I couldn’t picture yet having sex Caleb, who

was my best friend, but now also my boyfriend. Yet, here I was thinking about it and getting turned on

by it. What the heck was going on with my mind?! It was so indecisive: on one end, I couldn’t imagine us

having sex; but yet on the other, I totally could and wanted it badly. The hell’s up with that? But

whatever: the ‘couldn’t imagine us doing it’ side definitely wins, nine point nine times out of ten. The

zero point zero one was for when we eventually do get down and dirty.



My family and I had two horses: Vineyard, a champagne Tennessee Walking Horse gelding; and Castle, a

grey Arabian gelding. I was into English pleasure riding; like, doing jumps and courses and trail riding.

Never had I ever competed in any equestrian events; I just had no interest in getting into it. It was too

expensive, and took the fun out of riding.



Caleb and his family, on the other hand, had a lot of horses: four Quarter horses, a Paint, two Friesians,

a Clydesdale, a Appaloosa, and a Missouri Fox Trotter. They came from generations of horse raising and



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showing – western showing, that is. Mainly the rodeo-type of events, like barrel racing, calf roping, team

roping; and also, cutting and reining. Coming from the guy who told me he had never ridden English nor

would he ever, it was a major surprise when he got on my English tacked up horse and rode with me. He

ended up telling me that it was kind of fun, but that he preferred western and would never use English

gear, let alone convert to it. It’s not like it irked me; he at least tried it, and would ride English with me

when I wanted him to ride one of my horses. The guy was just a country boy at heart, and the only kind

of saddle he knew best was the heavy one with a horn: the western saddle. One thing he admitted to

me, though, was that he found it ‘hella’ fun to do jumping. He said that it was so fun that he was

tempted to get some English gear and some jumps, and teach one of his horses how to jump. I tried to

encourage him, but then he scoffed off the idea and told me that he didn’t want to be around the ‘stick

up the ass English riding snobs.’



I just didn’t understand why Western and English riders– mainly the ones who were involved in horse

shows – couldn’t stand one another. I asked him, and he told me that it was because they were snobby,

uptight dumbfucks who thought they were better than everyone else and that their equestrian events

were ‘ actually legit, unlike the western ones’. That’s why he didn’t like them, supposedly. He also told

me that some English rider competing in dressage, called him a redneck for competing in western

eventing. The ironic part? That was the same girl who spread her legs and got down and dirty with him

that same evening. She still thinks he’s a redneck – a hot one who knows how to give it to her, as per

what Caleb told me.



Western and English were both fun to me; each had its good points and its bad points, like anything.

Because I was just in riding for the fun of it, the only real difference I noticed was the all around size and

heaviness of the saddle, and the horn or lack thereof. Caleb would sneer at me when I talked about how

little they actually differed, and then he would give me a million and one reasons for why they differed

vastly. But it was whatever; it was just tack, for Christ’s sake. The real enjoyment was being close to your

horse and working as team – and Caleb of course agreed to that. He and I would ride together down

trails and have the time of our lives.



Looking back out at the arena, I saw that Caleb was off his horse and walking toward me. “Here,” he said

to me, shoving a sheet of white paper into my hands. “I got my tests back. All negative.”



Scanning the sheet, I came to realize that it was the STD testing that he was talking about. Signed by the

doctor, with contact information for the doctor’s office on the bottom, I could tell it was the actual

paper they sent him. I continued to scan it, noticing that, yes, as he had said, it was negative for the

different types of STDs listed on the paper. I smiled, then nodded, and handed the paper back to him.

“That’s great,” I said with enthusiasm as I looked up at him and grinned.



He sneered as he stared down at me. “That’s all you have to say?”



Not putting two and two together, I blinked a couple of times and stood there with my mouth slighting

opened, looking kind of like an idiot. “Huh?”



The sneer grew wider and wider. “You told me that you were going to the–“



“Oh, yeah,” I remembered. “I’m going in next week. I already talked to my parents, and I have an

appointment –“





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“I thought your appointment was today?”



“Nope.” I looked over at Bucky and smiled, then back at Caleb. “No openings till next week.”



Caleb walked closer to me and threw his arms around my shoulders. “I can’t wait till we can finally have

sex,” he said loud enough for, like, the whole world to hear. “It’s gonna be wonderful, baby girl.”



I started to feel one of his hands grabbing at the roots of my hair and lightly pulling up. “I bet you’re

gonna ride me like that Arabian of yours, huh? All hard and fast.”



Now that intrusive thought of him in the stall came back into my head. But this time, I was straddling

him with clothes on and grinding my pelvis against his. All I could hear was his deep breathing and him

telling me to let him fuck me. I tried to shake the thought from my head, but it was persistent. It was

such a stubborn thought! Looking up at him, I smirked and whispered, “You really want me to put a

saddle and bridle on you?”



Laughing lowly, he leaned down and kissed my cheek. “Hey, if you’re a kinky girl who needs the whole

works to get off, then I’m down. Saddle me up, put a snaffle in my mouth, buckle up the bridle, and take

me for a ride, you kinky thing, you!”



I shoved Caleb away and began to laugh as I thought of literally tacking him up like a horse. “Are you a

fast horse, or a slow poke?”



As he leaned me against the arena fence and hovered over me, he reached a hand up to my chest and

squeezed one of my boobs. “I’ve got a lot of stamina, and I can handle a rider like you.” Leaning himself

closer, he dove his face for my neck and began to very sensually nibble at my skin.



Reaching a hand up, I hooked it around his left shoulder and brought his body up against mine. Warmth

and pleasurable tingles shot through my neck and face as he continued to nibble my neck skin. At times

he was gentle; at other times, he got rougher and rougher till it hurt a little, but yet still felt good. I

reached my other hand down to his belly and slid it down his pants, and then I began to fondle him

through his boxers. He once told me that his penis was girthy and a little over seven inches; from what I

could feel, I believed him. Moving his face up my neck until he reached my face, he took a few moments

to glance into my eyes, a smile warming up his face. I removed my hand from his pants and brought it up

to his face. Touching at the dark stubble on his chin, I stared into his eyes, becoming lost within those

spheres of dark blue that were now almost black from the dilation of his pupils. Caleb rubbed his nose

against mine, his eyes now starting to close. I also closed mine and continued to touch at his sandpaper

rough stubble. He unhooked my hand from around his shoulder, and held it tightly within his. “I love

you, Beth,” he whispered.



I nuzzled my nose up against his cheek and let out a pleasant sigh. “I love you too, Caleb.”



And then he let go of my hand and backed away. We stared at one another for a couple of seconds

before he turned around and headed back over to Bucky. I watched as he mounted Bucky, and then

watched as the two of them rode around the arena, occasionally circling barrels and crisscrossing

through some obstacles set up adjacent to the barrels.







12

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

I turned sixteen a week ago, and still kept forgetting that I had to change the five to a six. I was so used

to saying fifteen that is only came natural to continue saying it; but nope, I was no longer the one five.

Caleb was so nice as to remind me that when you switch the numbers around, you get six one – sixty-

one. He told me that I was very youthful and alluring for being a sixty-one-year-old woman. I pushed him

around and playfully slapped his arms and chest and stomach until he pinned me down and began to

kiss my entire face and neck.



It was also on my sixteenth birthday that my parents came up to my room that evening and told me to

come clean about things. I asked them what things, and they looked at me like I knew better than to say

that. Then I finally realize they were talking about sex – or the likes of it, anyway. I told them that I

hadn’t yet had sex, and although they were both relieved and happy to hear that, they went on to talk

about how now that Caleb and I were boyfriend and girlfriend, that things would happen. Like, that I’d

be tempted to do it with him and stuff. After trying to think of Caleb in a sexual way, I realized that they

were right: the guy and I would eventually be doing it. That’s when the matter of STDs and pregnancy

and protection and blah, blah, blah came up. Both wildly threw around facts, opinions and thoughts

about all those different topics. At the end of the discussion, my parents told me that I was going to see

the doctor and get on birth control. They were too worried that I’d end up getting all hot and bothered

and wanting to jump Caleb’s bones, and not having any protection, but yet still do it. I told them I wasn’t

stupid enough to do something like that, but they said that it happens to even the best of us. Plus, my

dad interjected that most guys hate using condoms, and that Caleb would probably try to convince us to

do without one and pull out when he was about to cum instead. Not a good method of birth control,

according to my parents.



It wasn’t too much longer before Caleb dismounted Bucky and led him out of the arena and to the

crossties to untack him and give him a finishing groom. Once that was finished with, he put the horse

away and came back into the arena to be with me.



“I haven’t had a drop of alcohol or touched any drugs ever since you said yes to being my girlfriend two

weeks ago,” he told me as he walked over and grabbed my hand.



“Good.” I knew full well that he made no dent on quitting smoking, though. He out-and-out told me that

one, saying that he quit weed but not cigarettes. “I’m glad to hear you’ve been sticking to what you said

you’d do.”



After giving me a hug, Caleb tilted my chin up and looked into my eyes, “You know I wouldn’t lie to you,

Beth. No matter how much I may hate to say the truth, I wouldn’t lie to you, darlin’.”



Our friendship was built on trust and honesty, not lies and deception. Obviously we both would tell

those little white lies, but rarely did we lie to one another. Caleb and I grew up in loving, supportive

families; we never went through any of the abuse that many children are forced to endure. Neither one

of us had a childhood that was sad or horrible to have to hear about. Our childhoods were pretty, well,

normal: happily married parents, siblings who we got along with for the most part, and no financial

issues that caused our parents to have to worry about how to feed or cloth the family. Our parents were

definitely not poor, but they weren’t rich; they were just fine financially. Caleb’s father owned a

business at which Caleb worked at part-time. With five kids and many animals, it was definitely essential

for his father, Tom, to have the financial means to raise them; thus the reason he had put his blood,

sweat and tears into running a successful business that allowed him to afford their lifestyle.





13

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

Caleb tugged on my arm until I moved in the direction he was leading me to: out of the arena and

toward the old barn. “Wanna go hang out for a little in that creepy old barn, sweetie?”



“Yeah, sure.”



We walked over to the old barn and both stared at its falling apart wooden structure that would result in

a doom’s day for the two of us if the roof decided to fall in and crush us with wooden boards that were

splitting themselves into stakes of bodily destruction.



Walking into the place was like walking into a 70s barn of horror: boards had fallen through and were

lying on the ground all over the place, piles upon piles of debris and spare building parts. And you had to

use a flashlight to see anything in the place. As Caleb moved around the flashlight, I saw stalls, and one

had stack upon stack of hay bales, along with a junk pile in the far back corner. “C’mon.” Caleb pulled

me into the stall and carefully shut the stall door once we were both in.



I laid down on a pile of hay, my back up against the piles of hay bales.



Caleb began to unbutton his shirt as he flashed me a grin and then winked. “You wanna see a cowboy

strip?” He threw the flashlight at me.



Nodding my head and winking back, I pointed the flashlight in his direction and watched as he finished

unbuttoning his shirt and took it off. Holding it in his hands, swinging it around and around, he threw it

at me and laughed. “Barn sex is fun.”



“I’m sure it is,” I replied, my gaze on his fingers as they slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. He

just as slowly slid them down, till they were to his ankles.



Now he brought his hands down to his boxers and began to squeeze his right hand around his junk.

“When I say ‘now,’ turn off the flashlight, okay?”



“Okay.”



He stepped forward and reached his hands to the hems of his boxers. Slowly he slid them down, just

enough to show his pelvic region, but not enough to see any of his junk. “Now!”



I turned off the flashlight, only to have Caleb leap on top of me, his boxers pulled down to his ankles.

“I’m gonna pull down your jeans and –“



I unbuttoned and unzipped them myself and yanked them down to a little past my knees. “Did the job

for you.” I began to giggle.



Hovering his body over mine, his hands planted on each side, I spread my legs and allowed him to grind

his naked pelvis against my panty covered one. “Okay, this ain’t gonna work,” he said, laughing, as he

reached a hand down and brought it to the base of his penis. “Gotta use a hand.”



I could feel him rubbing the head against me down there, and although I didn’t feel much because the

underwear took away most of the sensation, what I did feel was…pleasant. As he continued to rub it up





14

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

and down against me, I grasped my hands against his back and held onto him. “You like it?” he asked,

breathing deeply, his face diving in for mine.



“Yeah.” His lips nudged mine, and we began to kiss.



That mischievous tongue of his was trying to work its way into my mouth, and although hesitantly, I

allowed it in. It began to touch and caress at the top of mine, and not knowing what to do, I touched and

caressed his tongue with mine. This continued for a minute, and then he pulled his mouth away from

mine. “You like using tongue?”



It felt…different. A bit strange, rather. “It was interesting,” I replied, pulling his face back against mine

and kissing him on the lips.



As he started to move his hand around my body, I began to feel it on my arm…but it was wet and cold.

Slimy, rather. Caleb’s hand was slimy and it was touching my arm. Yuck!



I pulled my face away from his. “Ew, Caleb,” I whispered in disgust. “Your hand, it’s all cold and slimy.”



“No it ain’t,” said Caleb, half-laughing, half wondering what the hell was wrong with me. “My hands are

warm and dry…”



I laughed and reached a hand for his butt. Before I was able to touch it, Caleb rolled over in panic and let

out a gasp. “What the fuck, Beth?” he shrieked. “You’re the one with the slimy hand! You were touching

my ass with it, weren’t you? Shit, Beth!”



Touching my hands to his arm, to let him know they were dry, I whispered into his ear, “I didn’t touch

your ass; you rolled over and freaked before I was able to…”



We looked at each other’s faces – not able to see much of anything at all – and we continued to stare at

each other, wondering what was up. Then, that’s when we heard a strange giggle. It was like the giggle

of a toddler, but stranger – creepy, in a way.



“Why you laughin’, Beth?” Caleb snickered and began to kiss my neck. In between kissing, he whispered,

“Laughin’ cause you think you’re gonna succeed in scaring me, huh?”



“I wasn’t laughing.” As I wildly moved my head every which way, I remembered that it was useless; it

was too dark to see anything, save for the facial outline of Caleb’s face when it was nose to nose with

mine. “I thought that was… a child.”



Caleb grabbed the flashlight and turned it on. As he moved it around, we both heard the pitter patter of

feet scrambling through the pile of junk in the corner. “Did you hear that?” I whispered to Caleb, my

arms locking around his body and squeezing for dear life.



“Eh, it was probably just a rat,” he casually remarked as he switched off the flashlight and began to turn

his attention back at me. “Let’s continue our fun.”









15

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

Feeling his hands reaching under my shirt and trying to slide under my bra, I grabbed them and pulled

them away. “Rats don’t giggle,” I told him, cuffing my fingers around his wrists. “That sounded like a

toddler giggling, Caleb. I think we should check it out.”



Switching the flashlight back on, he aimed it down at my legs and continued to look for several seconds,

the look of disgust on his face. “Holy shit, Beth,” he said, gasping, as he pointed to the area between my

legs. “There’s blood everywhere!”

I looked down and gasped. The hay was covered in blood and it was all over my legs and underwear.

“Gross!”



Caleb’s shaking hands pointed the flashlight to the left of where I was sitting, and his eyes grew wide

with…excitement. “So that’s what happened to that stupid fucking dog I was gonna kill.”



It was freshly killed and eaten. Blood was everywhere, and I guess we just didn’t notice it as we never

did aim the flashlight in that direction, nor did we pay any attention to anything else but trying to fool

around with each other in this old barn.



I immediately got up and pulled up my jeans. Caleb also got to his feet, grabbing his shirt on the way up,

and pulled up his boxers and jeans. He turned the flashlight to his face, allowing it to light up his major

grin, and then he jumped up and down. “Adventure time, baby girl,” he whispered to me, throwing his

fist up in the air. “Time to award the animal that did a number on that motherfuckin’ pit bull!”



We took a look around and came to the conclusion that we couldn’t check under the rubble of junk

because of Caleb’s fear of a rat jumping up and biting his nose, or something weird like that. So, now

that we no longer heard the giggling or rustling of the junk, we went back toward the hay, but to a

bloodless spot. “I think it’s kinda hot for us to be foolin’ around next to that dead dog,” said Caleb.



I found it a complete libido killer. I mean, it was freaking dead dog with blood everywhere. Plus, I had

this fear that the creature was hiding out in the rubble and would do a number on us like it did to that

dog. Apparently, Caleb didn’t have that fear; he just had the fear of being face jumped by a karate rat

and being bitten. Well, he didn’t say karate, but a rat would have to be a black belt to jump up and get

his face. Pretty stupid fear of his, huh? “Caleb, it’s kinda gross…”



He scoffed off my remark with laughter. “Oh, come on, Beth, haven’t you had always wanted to kiss me

right next to a pile of blood and a dead, eaten up dog?”



I stuck out my tongue in disgust and squeezed my eyes shut. “Yuck!”



He took it as an open invitation to stick his tongue down my throat. I shoved him away and screamed at

the top of my lungs. “Caleb Vince Mason, you don’t ever shove that tongue of yours down my throat

again!”



Laughing like a worked up hyena, he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me toward him. “Bethany

Rachelle Grady, I coulda done worse, so be thankful it was just my tongue.” And with that, he winked.



Letting myself gently fall atop the pile of clean hay as I watched Caleb turn off the flashlight, I waited for

the fucker to come jump on me again and start molesting me like he did before. Instead, though, he





16

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

lowered himself down, and as he began to move his hands around, he said, “I’m gonna find you, Beth,

and I swear, once I got my hands on that sweet body of yours, I’m gonna touch and lick every inch of it!”



Keeping silent in the corner, I felt relieved when a minute passed by and he was still searching around

for me. “Beth,” he would call out, letting out low giggles, “I know you’re nearby. Come and let me play

with you, baby girl.”



Caleb gave up after another minute of searching. He flicked on the flashlight and immediately after

blinking his eyes a couple of times, he screamed and crawled backwards. “Holy shit, Beth,” he called out.

“There’s some weirdass animal in here!”



I looked over at where his flashlight shone, and there stood a pale grey creature with massive black

almond shaped eyes that were tilted and a giant head. Atop its head was a sparing amount of white-grey

hair that was styled like a swirl cone at the top. A tiny mouth with cat-thin lips was opened just a little as

it heaved air in and out. It couldn’t have been taller than two feet, with skinny arms and thin, elongated

fingers with sharp talons. One of its tiny hands reached out in Caleb’s direction. It began to giggle and

squeal and jump up and down. As it repeatedly stuck out its long, thin purple tongue, much the same

way a snake would, I noticed the look of sheer horror on Caleb’s face. The biggest shock of all? I didn’t

feel scared as I looked over at the creature. It just looked like a poor, young being who needed someone

to help it out in this big, cruel world.



Standing up and walking over to Caleb, I pulled his body against mine and while laughing, I whispered

into my ear, “You’re such a baby! It’s just a –“



“It’s a fucking alien!” shrieked Caleb as he hid himself behind me. “A fucking alien!”



“Oh, and so you cower behind me like a baby?” I stepped behind him and allowed him to continue to

face the alien. “Be a man, Caleb!”



“That ain’t from earth,” Caleb whispered in horror as he hid back behind me, his hands clenching my

shoulders.



“You’re a coward, Caleb,” I said as I walked forward and put a hand out in front of the alien.



The alien’s tiny mouth formed into a half circle as it smiled. A giggle escaped from its mouth as it

brought its hand to mine. The sharp talons pricked my skin, and I let out a shallow gasp. “You’ve got

sharp fingernails, little one,” I cooed to the creature while laughing.



All of a sudden I heard rustling from the junk pile, and then screaming as Caleb ran wildly around the

stall. The flashlight was lying on the ground, its light lit up a path leading to little shoeless child-like feet.

I bent down and snatched the flashlight, and then shined it up from where I saw the feet. Standing there

was another alien who looked just like the first, except it was a good foot taller with violet hair that was

thicker in texture, and its body was teal green. Its hand was grasped tightly around Caleb’s leg, with the

long, sharp talons clawing through his jeans and into his skin. As I moved the light around to try and

examine the alien more, it let go of his leg and began to use both its hands to run like mad up Caleb’s

body, up until it reached his back, at which it clung its arms around his body and hung on.







17

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

“Oh my fucking God, Beth,” heaved a shaken up Caleb. His legs and arms shook like leaves in a strong

gust of wind, as his wide open eyes stared me down in horror. “There’s – there’s – there’s a—a—an

alien on my back!”



Letting out a chuckle as I continued to shine the flashlight on his face and watch his expression of horror,

I reached my hand out for his and grabbed it. “Calm down, Caleb,” I whispered, my other hand reaching

for his cheek and caressing it. “These aliens seem very sweet.”



Allowing it to all sink in, Caleb finally wiped the horror from off his face and gave a slight smile. “Maybe

you’re right, love,” he whispered as he held out his arms, trying to welcome me into them. But instead,

the alien on his back took it as an open invitation to jump right into his arms. Screaming for yet a third

time, Caleb stared eye to eye with the green alien in his hands.



I reached my hand over and touched the hair on its head. Twirling the soft, smooth dark violet hair with

my fingers, I took my other hand and patted Caleb’s back. “I think it really likes you.”



Caleb stared down at the alien and started to smile. “I think you’re right,” he whispered to me as we

both watched the green alien stick out its tongue and start smiling and giggling to Caleb. It reached up to

his face and licked his cheek. “Aw, it licked me!” He shook his face and started to smile and laugh.



Releasing a hand from under its body, Caleb brought the hand up to its face and gave a slight loving

pinch to one of its cheeks. “You’re a cute little alien, aren’tcha?” The alien started to hiss and raised its

lips, a full set of piranha-like teeth showing through. “Or maybe not,” replied Caleb, swallowing hard as

he retracted his hand.



“Remember, Caleb; you’re holding an alien, not a human baby,” I said, sneering, as I stopped touching

its hair and brought my hand back down to my side.



He shoved his elbow into my side and while grinning, said, “I know, Ms. Smarty-pants. I reckon a human

baby ain’t got eyes or a head like this little one’s.”



The alien closed its mouth and looked up at Caleb, its lips now curling into a smirk. He looked back at it

and started smiling like a dufus as he cooed, “Little alien, little alien. Little alien in my arms.”



It spat up a wad of glowing green mucus on his face. Bringing its hands to its mouth, it shut its eyes and

started to giggle and snort loudly. As amused as both I and the alien were, Caleb was none too thrilled;

he brought his sleeve to his face and wiped off the spit. Now looking back down at the alien, he held up

his index finger and shook it. “No, little one,” he began to scold. “We do not spit on people’s faces!

Understood?”



The other alien – the shorter grey one – jumped up and bit Caleb’s finger. After coming back down, it

ran wildly around the stall, its laughter and squeals echoing throughout the barn. Caleb dropped the

green alien from his hands and ran around the stall, trying to catch the grey one. “You little fucker,” he

yelled as he ran around and around. “I swear, once I getcha, I’m gonna fucking strangle you!”



Now both aliens ran around the stall, and then all of a sudden, the pitter pattering and squeals and

giggles stopped completely. They were now nowhere in sight. They must have been hiding in the junk

pile. I turned to Caleb and grabbed his arm. “We need to tend to your bite,” I said to him, opening the



18

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

stall door and walking him out with me. He closed it from behind us, and ran like hell out of the old barn.

I chased after him and once we neared the back porch of the house, he stopped abruptly and grabbed

both my shoulders.



“My momma’s on the back porch,” Caleb told me as he pointed to his mother Diana. She was outside on

a rocking chair knitting a blanket.



Diana looked over at us and smiled. “Y’all want some dumplins?” she asked in her thick southern accent.

“They’re mighty tasty.”



But then, she kept staring at us and looked puzzled. “Y’all got blood on your clothes. What happened,

my baby Caleb and little Miss Bethany? Y’all get hurt? Y’all okay?”



“Yeah, Momma,” shouted Caleb. “We’re fine; we just kinda tripped on a dead, bloody dog.”



She furrowed her eyebrows and frowned. “Nasty, Caleb,” she said with complete disgust. “Y’all get in

the house and wash up. Y’all can’t be runnin’ around with bloody clothes; that’s nasty.”



Her long, straight light blonde hair was let down and went down to her waist. It was typically worn up in

a bun, so it was a change to see it like this. As she set down her blanket and stood up, she signaled for

Caleb and I to come over. “C’mon over here, kids,” she shouted, a smile lighting up her youthful looking

face. Once we came up onto the porch, she came over to me and then grabbed some lipstick from out of

one of her apron pockets and applied the dark red coloring to my lips. “The key to winning a Southern

boy’s heart is knowing how to cook great food, and,” she began to say, concentrating hard on apply it

ever so neatly to my lips, “applying your makeup just right.”



Caleb pushed her away from me. “Momma, we gotta get cleaned up.”



“Okay.” She smiled and put away the lipstick. “But once you kids are cleaned up, c’mon out to the

kitchen. I’d like to talk to you y’all for a little.”



“Okay, Momma.”



We went up to the upstairs bathroom and shut the door. Caleb stripped off his clothes, until he was just

in boxers, and turned to face me. “I ain’t too dirty,” he said, taking a wash cloth from off a hanger and

turning on the sink to wet it. “Neither are you. Let’s just wash off whatever stuff we got on ourselves,

and change clothes.”



“But… I don’t have a spare set of clothes here.”



Grinning as he stared at me, he looked down at the ground before looking back up and into my eyes,

“Yeah huh, Beth. Remember that set of clothes you left in my room in case of an emergency?”



“Oh, yeah.”



In just his boxers, he walked out of the bathroom to go grab them. Once he came back in, the set of

clothes in his hands, I closed the door from behind him and grabbed them. “Thanks, Caleb,” I said,

smiling, as I stripped off my clothes and changed into the fresh set.



19

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

Still not changed, Caleb set down the toilet cover and sat upon it. “The best way to a Southern boy’s

heart is by being yourself and allowing him to take care of you, Beth,” he whispered, now grinning, as he

grabbed a band-aid from off the counter and stuck it on his bite wound. “I already wear enough makeup

for the both of us, and I know how to cook damn well.”



I kneeled down and wrapped my arms around his body. “You’re so sweet,” I spoke softly, looking into

his eyes and smiling. “But didn’t she say the key to winning a Southern boy’s heart?”



He tilted up my chin, and after kissing my lips, he stared back into my eyes. “You’ve already won my

heart, honey.”



Standing up and walking over to the counter, he grabbed a tissue and wet it under the sink, and then

brought it over to my mouth and began to wipe the lipstick from off my lips. “That damn momma always

tryin’ convert my little nerd into a whore,” he joked, laughing loudly as he finished wiping it off and

threw the tissue into the trashcan. “I like ‘em girls with glasses and braces that have their noses dug into

books, and whose magazine bin consists of Popular Science, Nat Geo and PC Magazine. It gets me

totally turned on to hear ‘em obsessively talk about their latest session of World of Warcraft, or the

amount of enemies they killed in Call of Duty. And don’t even get me started on that push of their

glasses’ bridge as they look up at me and squint, a shy smile showing those sexy braces. Talk about

boner central.”



I was Caleb’s little nerd who wore glasses and braces, and whose nose was dug into books and whose

magazine bin consisted of all those three titles, and then some – but that was mainly because my dad

was the ultimate nerd of all, and the magazine bin was shared among the family. The first time I looked

up at Caleb, squinting and pushing my glasses up, he brought my hand to his crotch and made me feel

the massive boner he had going on. Then he said, “Now you know something that gets me harder than

fuck,” and he winked.



I watched as Caleb ran out of the bathroom and to his room. A couple of minutes passed, and then he

came storming back in, with a fresh set of clothes on. Walking out of the bathroom and into his room, I

set down my dirty clothes on his hamper, and the two of us went downstairs and into the kitchen.



Diana was laughing and hollering and giggling – over what, we had no clue. Caleb walked up behind her

and touched her shoulders. “Momma, why you laughin’?”



She turned around and we spotted the two aliens in front of her! “These little kids are hilarious,” she

began, smiling. “I found them runnin’ round the house, causing trouble. So I bring ‘em here and feed

‘em some chicken dumplins. They lovin’ them!”



I stared at Diana. “Kids?”



She nodded. “Mhm, sugar. They’re dressed up in their Halloween costumes.”



Caleb broke out into laughter. “Oh, momma. You’re hilarious!”



“What?” Diana grinned. “They are! I mean, it’s November – late – but, hey, they wanna dress up in their

Halloween costumes, so be it!”



20

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

“Momma, they ain’t no kids, they –“



“They what?”



I pulled on Colby’s arm. “Don’t,” I whispered to him. “Don’t tell her!”



He ignored me. “They’re aliens, Momma. Aliens! You hear?”



Diana broke out into laughter. “You’re killin’ me, boy! These little ones ain’t aliens!”



“Of course not.” I shoved my elbow into Colby’s side. “They’re little kids dressed in their Halloween

costumes.”



This was going to be the beginning of our adventure with the little aliens. They were little monsters who

would get into trouble – as they’ve shown so far – but God bless their hearts, as a Southern woman

would say.









21

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

CHAPTER FOUR



We were lying next to each other, naked, completely exposed. Caleb turned his face toward mine and

while grinning, whispered, “Wow.”



I smiled, then I felt my face turn hot – real hot. I knew I was blushing.



Brushing his hand through my hair, Caleb kissed my forehead and then cleared his throat. “What’d you

think?”



Bits and pieces flashed back, but I tried my hardest to keep them at bay. “I don’t know.”



He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. “Well, I liked it – a lot.”



“Yeah, it was fun.”



Caleb nodded. “Next time we should go faster.”



I laughed. “Faster? It was painful enough slow!”



“Aw, c’mon, Beth, it’ll feel better – you’ll get used to it quicker if we go faster.”



“Really?”



“Mhm.”



I know what you’re thinking: we just had sex. But we didn’t; we went skinny dipping in the creek by his

place. Yeah, we went in slowly, and that was painful enough. It was cold, for crying out loud! Now we

were lying on the bank, talking. I was beginning to put my clothes on; Caleb only bothered to put his

boxers on. Once I buttoned up my blouse, I turned to him and said, “I can’t believe I let you try and –“



He placed his finger in front of my mouth, hushing me. “None of it went in, Beth. I just did what I had

done when we were in the old barn – but this time, you were panty-less.”



“Okay, but anyway –“



“I love you, Beth.” Caleb grinned.



22

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

“I love you, too, Goth!”



“Me, Goth?” He grabbed one of my bra straps and pulled – then released it like a rubber band. “As in,

those depressed, always wearing black clothes and weird dark makeup, freaks?”



I nodded.



“Hell no! I ain’t no Goth.” He laughed and then shoved me the side. “I like dark clothes and black

eyeliner and eyeshadow, but no way am I Goth!”



Denial. But what the hell, why ruin the moment more by arguing with him about it? I wanted to amp

him up right now. Make him uber happy and excited. “Caleb, I’m looking into the foreseeable future,

and it appears you’ll be getting some p-u-s-s-y.”



“Wha?” He looked at me like I was crazy. “You think I’m gonna cheat on you? No way, Beth! No way! I’d

never do that!”



I groaned loudly. “No, Caleb.” I sighed. “You ruined it. I was just trying to come up with a coy way of

telling you that –“









23

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

“Oh my god, you’re really dating Caleb Mason?!” one of my friends asked – Lyssa, the perky, goofy

redheaded girl who was a devout Catholic.



“Doesn’t he, like, smoke and drink and stuff?” Callie asked. She was an Indian-American whose parents

moved from India to the U.S. in their early twenties. Even though she usually was a stickler to her

religion and her parents’ morals, she had no problems with fooling around with guys. But smoking and

drinking and drugs, on the other hand, were a big, fat no-no to her.



“Sorry to burst your bubble, Bethany,” began to speak Sarah, the pessimistic, wannabe gangsta girl who

was fun to chill with, “but Caleb’s nasty. Me and him kind of, like, bumped uglies last year…”



“I really hope you haven’t let him do it with you!” Denise said, her face showing her disgust. She has

long, flat ironed hair that was almost always worn down. Her skin was deep chocolate in color and

practically flawless. Tall, thin and curvy, Denise was one of the prettiest girls at school.









24

[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]

Caleb was a cafeteria Christian: you know, the types that say they’re Christian, but pick and choose what

to believe and follow. Premarital sex and birth control were completely fine to him; but homosexuality

and abortion were definitely not. Most of those that say they’re this or that religion, typically are of the

cafeteria-type. He went to church almost every Sunday with his whole family, would read bits and pieces

of the bible every so often, and prayed regularly. Outside of church and after praying, though, he was a

sinner who went off and committed sin after sin. He was a George Bush loving conservative who loved

to hunt, fish, use guns and knives, and butcher animals for meat. Caleb was completely against gay

marriage, and couldn’t wrap his mind around how “a guy could want another guy’s dick in his mouth or

up his ass.” The one time I tried to explain to him that some people just like the same gender in a sexual

way, he told me to stop before he barfed up a day’s worth of food. I still loved the guy, even though his

opinions and views on things differed greatly from mine. Politics were just… politics.



One thing we both did agree on was that marriage wasn’t a human rights issue. I was seriously getting

so sick and tired of hearing about legalizing gay marriage. I could care less whether gays married or not;

people of the same sex loving each other and wanting to marry didn’t bug me. But for crying out loud, if

I hear about it one more time, I’m going to scream! There are more important issues to have sorted out;

like, gender equality, for example. Women are still not treated equal to men, and it totally sucks!



11,073 words written









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[Treats for Freaks – Est. 2011]


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