Don't Mess with Jessie

I glare back at the young man. “Get off of me.”

He giggles and wriggles around. “Not until you eat.

“I am not eating. Get off of me…now.”

“Don’t be hard Mister.” He says playfully. “On second thought, I wouldn’t mind ya hard.” He winks.

“Get the ffff…rr! Get off of me you little…” I bite my tongue on what I wanted to say.

“Not until we’re friends.” He smiles. “Be mah friend?”

“We can be friends when you let me go.” I had planned on keeping this cordial but him sitting on me and refusing to get off changed all that. At this point I would say anything to get this little girly boy off of me. “Not before. Now get!”

“Listen Mister Devlin…oh wait, Case to your friends.” He says. “Listen Case…”

“You can call me Mister Devlin.” I say, making sure he knew that we were not friends. Not in the slightest. I make sure it was spelled out loud and clear. “You ain’t my friend boy.”

His face flinches as if I’d hit him. “El is scared of ya so it’s my job to look after ya.”

I’d throw him off of me or punch him in the nose if I could but the only weapons I had now were words. I keep my voice low so that it stayed under the volume of the clinking dishes and the meandering rhythm the father was playing on his guitar. “Finally got a job to do, huh? Probably not used to it. Sitting around letting your sisters and parents do all the work. Pampered little sissy boy.”

Jessie recoils, confusion painting his fine features. The spoiled brat was not used to being talked to like this. “What’s that? What’s a sissy boy?”

“A man who ain’t no man, that’s who.” I say. “And without that gun at your hip that is all you are. Weak little sissy boy. Not woman, not man, nuthin.”

“I’m…not a…sissy. I’m a man.” He looks down at the food. He stirs the stew and scoops another spoonful. He wasn’t so much interested in talking anymore. “Please eat. Please.”

“No.”

“He causin ya troubles son?” His mother calls.

“No Momma! I can do it. I’ll look after him.” Jessie says, seemingly worried about having this responsibility taken from him. “Please Mister.”

“She’s gonna take it away from you.” I say in my low cruel tone. “Leave you with nothin to do as usual. You aren’t good for anything, are ya?”

“I do lots!” He insists. I could see I was finally stirring up some anger in him. “It’s my job to keep ever-one happy.”

“I’m not happy. You’re not making me happy at all.”

“That’s causin you won’t be my friend!” His soft voice wavers and he blinks his big eyes rapidly. “I want you to be happy. I want ever-one happy.”

“Gonna cry boy? Run cryin to your Momma, sissy. Let her look after all your problems for ya.” I prod, wanting to piss him off enough to at least get the fuck off of me. I did not enjoy talking to him like this but my temper was up and this was all I had to express it. “Look at you. Wearing rouge like a whore. Wearin a silly old dress.”

“It’s…not old. Momma just made it fer me.” He says in a whisper soft voice. “Why you sayin these things?”

“Because you’re a disgrace. Man of your age oughta be ashamed living like this. But you ain’t no man, you’re a sissy.”

After a moment of quiet he says. “You’re a very rude man Mister Devlin.” He tries to laugh it off as if I were joking around, but his laughter is mirthless. My words were landing. For the first time he looks down at his pretty dress with doubt in his expression. “I’m…pretty?”

“Pretty ugly.” Another lie, though I’d never admit it.

“That’s not nice.”

“Listen boy. I don’t like you.”

“But…ever-one likes me.”

“Out in the real world nobody would like you. Nobody.”

“That’s not true! Momma says…”

“You’re Momma is dumb as a brick.”

“We ain’t school smart but we’s…”

“A bunch of stupid inbred illiterate hillbillies who don’t know mud from shit.”

Trying to hold back a pout Jessie’s brows furrow up in the middle. “You just mad. That’s all. Sayin these mean things.”

“Get off of me.”

“Fine.” He says, dejected and defeated. “I-I’ll leave ya ’lone.”

Not knowing well enough to know when I’d won I add. “And send Elsie next time. I don’t want you, sissy, but I think I could be her friend. She’s reeeeal pretty.” The moment the words escaped my lips I knew I’d fucked up. I pushed him too far.

The sadness in Jessie’s eyes flash to bright anger and jealousy. “What did you say?”

“Nothin.”

His brown eyes narrow and his pink lips purse. “Momma!”

“Yes my darlin boy?” She looks out from around the kitchen door.

Reaching back he hands her the bowl. “He’s ain’t hungry. Too busy cussin with his foul nasty mouth.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” She takes the bowl from her son. “A shame. Well, you know what to do.”

“Yes Momma.” There was evil in that boy’s eyes.

As she disappears into the kitchen I hear Elsie say. “Why’s Jessie sound mad?”

I continue glaring at him but this time he is glaring back. Reaching around the back of the chair he produces that damned gag. He presses it against my lips and whispers. “Open.”

“Fuck you!” I growl between clenched teeth.

“Fiona. Daddy.” He raises his voice. “Little help here.”

What follows is very unpleasant with the end result being me with a sore jaw and with the ball gag securely back in my mouth. Not once had Jessie left my lap. He sits with a wicked little grin on his damned pretty face as I just glower daggers back at him.

“I know you like me.” He whispers. “I saw it.” His eyes flit down a second. “Hard as a tent pole you was.”

“Frrk uuu!”

He titters. Reaching out he begins unbuttoning my undershirt!

“MRRRM!”

“Shhhh.” He leans in and tenderly kisses my neck. “I have an idea on how we can be friends.”

I thrash about and, predictably, go nowhere. When he looks back up I try to head butt him but his lightning reflexes save him from a bloody nose. As soon as I miss he grabs my head in both hands and plants a hard kiss on my gagged mouth.

“HRRMMMM!!!”

“Looks like family time is startin early tonight.” Elsie says as she walks back into the room to see what was happening. “Is the nice Mister Devlin joinin in?”

“Hmmm!” I cry out for help

“Family time? Already?” Helen says, following her daughter in. “We ain’t even done songs and prayers yet.”

“Let’em be.” The dad says. “They was whisperin over there. This is between them. Man to man.” I look to the man and see a little smirk playing at the corner of his mustache. “Man’s gotta learn you don’t mess wit Jessie.” This elicits chuckles from the rest of them. “Show’im what you got son.”

“Yes Sir!”