Busted – The Game Show

© Justin Cumberland 2007

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jason woke up from the surgery and forgot what had happened. He forgot how he had gotten into the operating theatre and he never did remember it. The last thing he remembered was lying on the locker room floor with Todd; and that from that point to this his memory was, and always remained, a blank.

It was like time had folded and touched him to another point.

‘You’ll be okay,’ the surgeon said, tousling his hair. ‘I’ve never done that before; but I think it’ll be okay.’

‘What?’ Jason said, suddenly sitting up on the bench and realizing that he was wearing a hospital gown. He was in an operating theatre. There was a bright light above his head and there were some people on the other side of the glass. Seven or eight of them, sitting in the auditorium. They were prison guards, spread out over the large semi-circular array of chairs which angled up to the ceiling. Bertie turned to face them and bowed; and the women started to clap. They were female, all of them. They were dressed in their uniforms, and had watched, apparently, the operation.

Jason spread his legs apart and looked at his groin. It looked the same. He was conscious that the women were watching; and he tried to conceal himself while he looked. He wanted to know what Bertie had done to him.

It occurred to him then, suddenly, and for the first time since it had happened that he didn’t have a piss hole. He didn’t have anywhere to piss from.

He looked up at Bertie and frowned, suddenly confused.

‘You see. I didn’t touch it. I told you I wouldn’t; and I didn’t.’

‘But…’ Jason said. He didn’t know what to say. He could see that the guards were leaving. They were stubbing out their cigarettes and making their way to the door. Jason pulled the gown up and spread his legs wider, looking down at the smooth expanse of skin. ‘How am I gonna…’ He looked up at Bertie and swallowed.

‘I connected it internally.’

‘Internally?’

‘Sure. Internally. Why not? It’s all waste. It may as well all come out the same hole.’

Was he going to piss out of his arse?

‘I tightened things up back there. There were a couple of problems I had to solve; but when you push it should just work – and you don’t have a mark on you, lad. You should have seen how wide I got the fucking thing. I had both hands in there; which won’t be possible now. I’ve sewed it all together again and there’s not a scratch – nothing you can see, anyway. It’ll never be the same but it’ll be okay. You should be able to hold your fluid. It’ll take a bit of time though, so I’ve got you some of these.’

He handed Jason a box. It was a little box with flowers. It was a box of tampons.

‘I put one in for you,’ Bertie continued, ‘and…’

Jason vomited. He leant over the side of the table and vomited. It was a reaction from the anesthetic.

The surgeon put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said. ‘Martha’ll clean it up.’ He wiped Jason’s mouth with a cloth and Jason bent right forward, reaching down behind his where he could see the string of the tampon dangling out of his hole. He tugged at it a bit and realized that the thing was pretty firmly wedged. He must have been tightened up a lot.

Suddenly, he smiled. Maybe it was okay. Maybe it was all okay.

The surgeon tousled Jason’s hair again and Jason maneuvered himself around, sitting on the edge of the table. ‘And I fixed your nose,’ the surgeon said. ‘An improvement, if I don’t say so myself.’

Jason wasn’t listening properly. He was staring at his groin. The gown was rucked up to his hips but Jason didn’t care that the surgeon could see him. The guy had obviously done more than see him, and anyway, it looked good down there. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. He liked being this way. He had a tampon in his arse and the next time he needed to piss he would have to sit down and feel the warm liquid burst out of him in a gush.

He smiled at the thought of it. He was pure. He was…

‘“Chaste, Jason” that is your name, right?’ the surgeon said. He had a clipboard and made a tick as Jason nodded his head.

He was chaste, Jason.

‘Well, that’s another one down,’ Bertie said. ‘Five more to go and I will have finished the program.’

‘Has it been a long time?’ Jason said.

‘It’s been fucking years,’ Bertie said. ‘You would think they’d have something better for me to do – but this is what they came up with.’

‘It’s not much of a punishment.’

‘It’s a torture,’ the surgeon said.

Jason found his own way to the locker room. He was in another part of the building, somewhere he hadn’t been before; and he took a few wrong turns before finally finding the door to the green room and opening that accidentally. From there, he knew where he was.

He walked down the corridor, wearing the gown and knowing his arse was exposed, knowing and not caring though he passed several people who were going about their business, walking to and fro. One man even turned and looked behind Jason, looking at his arse which Jason noticed because he turned around himself and saw the guy. He didn’t care. He made a left and another right, followed by another left before he came to the locker room which had been cleaned since he was last there. There was no sign of wet towels. And although the crack in the mirror was still there, there was no blood on the floor. The place smelt of bleach.

He opened his locker. He guessed which one it was; and he supposed he would find his pack in there, with everything removed except for the panties and his lunchbox. He wasn’t sure about this because, although everything had certainly become clearer, it seemed as though that at that time, when he had found the panties, and afterwards, he had been particularly confused. He had smashed the window in the green room and jumped out of it. He remembered that now – and after that he had had his jeans again, and had been given a different set of needles. It didn’t seem to make any sense and he didn’t know how it ever could.

Flashes of memory like light kept sparking in his mind. Things from the day which made sense all at once although he had not, it somehow seemed, been there when they had happened – not seeing the connections between the events or understanding the way things jumped about and changed, putting him back on track time and time again.

He felt like whistling when he opened the locker to see his pack. He held his breath and looked inside it. Yes, the panties. His lunch box. Garth had come through. He had done exactly what Jason knew he would do.

Garth had taken his clothes. Of course he had.

He reached in and held the panties up to the light. They were red and gossamer thin. There wasn’t really any material to them. They were just lace and he could see his fingers through them – see the ceiling of the locker room and the bright fluorescent lights. He sucked in his breath suddenly. He really was going to wear these. He was just going to do it; and make out like he had no choice – like he hadn’t thought of finding something else – like he was too stupid.

He laid them down on the bench, pulling them out and looking at the shape of them. It was difficult to tell which was the front and which was the back because the back was narrow as well. There was no way it was going to cover his arse. He didn’t even know if he could get them on.

He stared down at them and tugged the hospital gown over his head. He bunched it up and threw it in the locker, slamming the door; and then he reached down and picked up the panties. He felt like he would get hard at the thought of it; but he didn’t have to worry about that now. There was nothing to get in the way and he was going to be able to pull them on and just wear them.

He stepped into them and pulled them up his legs. They had to stretch a bit to get over his thighs but they fitted okay. There was no way he would have got into them this morning. His gear would have been strangled. He wouldn’t have been able to get them over it; and if he had, it would have been hanging out the sides.

He walked over and looked in the mirror, turning around to see what they looked like from behind. There was hardly any back to them and there was no way they would have been meant to cover someone’s arse. Most of his cheeks were exposed; and, as Jason turned around, he realized that they didn’t ever bridge the gap between his legs. He had worried about wearing Speedos at school because they didn’t wrap around his balls – and now he was wearing a pair of lace panties which weren’t even wide enough to span the space of his empty groin. He wondered what the guys in the team would say if he came to a swim meet wearing these. He wondered what they would say when they saw him in Speedos now. He would have to get a smaller pair. He would get a really small pair and just go to swim training in those. Why care? He felt better about the way he looked now than he had with his gear. He’d just make out like it wasn’t a problem and he was too stupid to understand what had happened to him.

If only he could fuck someone though. That was a problem. He reached down and stroked his groin with the tips of his fingers. He hadn’t wanted this to happen. Not really. He liked the idea of it; but really, he knew, he would miss his gear. He would never get to be a man. He was a freak.

He looked up at his face and smiled. He looked better somehow. His nose was different and he looked younger. His lips were as red as the panties. His face was flushed and his blond hair was splayed out around his head like it had static in it. He reached up and brushed it down, pulling it back away from his forehead and shaking it out. He ran a hand over his chest and over the muscles in his abs, feeling the hard smooth skin and the shapes underneath it. He ran a hand down to the panties and smiled. He smoothed the hand over his thighs and felt the place between his legs, tugging on the string a bit and making sure it was hanging out the side of the panties as far as it would reach. He wanted it to be visible.

Suddenly he stopped and stood. He put his shoulders back and addressed himself. ‘You’re a piece of shit, Jase,’ he said. ‘You’re a fucking - piece - of - shit.’ He nodded his head and stood there, staring at himself.

Jock appeared in the doorway. ‘Your buddy’s out in the lot,’ he said, jerking his head back when he saw Jason – saw what Jason was wearing and saw him looking at himself in the mirror like he liked it. He frowned. ‘Is that what you’re wearing?’

Jason nodded.

Jock put one hand up on the frame of the doorway. ‘You want a robe or something?’ he said.

Jason shook his head. ‘Someone stole my clothes.’

‘I can get you a robe.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Jason said.

Jock raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, your buddy wants me to hurry you up. I think he’s pissed off about…’ Jock motioned towards Jason with his hand, waving it up and down at him.

Jason turned to Jock and frowned. ‘Do I look okay?’ he said.

‘You look beautiful, Princess.’

Jason took a final look in the mirror. He was indeed beautiful. ‘Can you show me how to get out?’ he said, turning to Jock again.

‘Sure, lad. I’ll show you how. Just follow me.’

Jason picked up his pack and slung it over his shoulder. He was barefoot but he didn’t care. The tarmac was hot out in the lot; but he could walk on it. There were other cars out there now and he had to look over to where he knew the Firebird was, walking towards the place before he saw it. A truck whizzed by silently on the highway, swaying to and fro and whirring as it went. Jason looked up at the sky. It was afternoon. Late afternoon. Maybe four, four-thirty. The sky was covered in its usual haze of white. It was never blue these days, never properly blue, but somewhere, down there towards the south, it looked like there might be a patch of blue.

He clicked open the door to the Firebird and slung the pack into the back. Garth was sitting inside and he jerked his body up suddenly as Jason opened the door and got in.

He looked worried. And swallowed when he saw Jason, and saw what Jason was wearing.

‘Oh fuck, Jase, I’m sorry.’

Jason pressed his legs together and covered his groin with his hands.

Garth reached out a hand and put it on Jason’s shoulder. ‘Are you okay?’

Jason nodded.

‘Your wearing panties, Jase.’

‘I know,’ he said.

‘I put them in there as a joke. I didn’t think you’d actually…’

Jason tucked his head down and pouted. He frowned like he was going to cry. ‘Someone stole my clothes,’ he said, pressing his hands firmly into his groin.

‘Well, didn’t you ask them for something? They would have given you something.’

Jason shook his head and felt his hair sliding around his head. He looked down at his knees, frozen.

‘They’ve got a whole wardrobe department, Jase. Don’t you want to go back in there?’

Jason shook his head again, quicker this time. He bit his lips.

Garth swallowed and took his hand off Jason’s shoulder.

‘Haven’t you got anything?’ Jason said.

‘Me?’ Garth looked down and tugged at his shirt. He had loosened his tie and the jacket was hanging askew, hanging loosely on his shoulders. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘You can have the jacket.’ He worked his shoulders out of it and handed it to Jason.

Jason touched it and pulled his hand away. ‘It’s scratchy,’ he said, shivering suddenly.

‘Oh yeah. It’s wool.’ Garth hesitated. ‘You could put it on your lap though.’

Jason reached out and took it. He laid it on his lap and felt his legs jitter involuntarily under the scratchiness of it. He couldn’t stand the feel of the stuff. It was the worst type.

‘You really can’t handle it, can you?’ Garth said, frowning.

‘You know I hate it.’ Jason gritted his teeth and grabbed the jacket. He turned around and slung it into the back of the car, revealing his groin, thoughtlessly, as he did so.

‘Are you pissed off, Jase?’

Jason turned back on the seat and put his legs together. He folded his arms and pressed them down into his groin, hunching his body. He bit his lips and frowned, staring at the dash. ‘I’m wearing a pair of panties,’ he said.

‘Well, you could go and…’

‘Can we just go?’

Garth started the car. He bit his bottom lip and hesitated.

‘Just go.’ Jason said.

Garth released the handbrake and pulled out of the lot and onto the highway.

They drove for a few minutes and Jason straightened up in the seat. He let his hands fall into his lap, loosely covering his groin; and he stared straight ahead through the windscreen.

‘Fuck, Jase. That was pretty bad,’ Garth said.

Jason said nothing.

‘You – I mean…’

Jason turned and looked out of the side window.

‘It wasn’t…’

‘I know.’

‘You weren’t…Oh fuck, Jase. You’ve been nullified.’

Jason said nothing.

‘It wasn’t supposed to…’

‘It’s not your fault, Garth.’

‘What?’

‘It’s not your fault.’

‘Do you mean that?’

‘Sure I mean it.’ He turned to Garth and frowned. ‘I can’t blame you because of it, can I?’ He took his hands away and stared down at his groin.

The car swerved and Jason had to grip the dash.

Garth started again, glancing askew at Jason. ‘I didn’t. I mean…it was my idea.’

‘We made a deal, Garth.’

‘What?’

‘We shook on it, remember? I said I wouldn’t blame you and I’m not going to. It’s not like you made the whole thing happen, is it?’

‘They had you pretty drugged up.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘That wasn’t very fair to you.’

Jason made no reply.

‘And they fucked up, Jase. They fucked up badly. I told him that. I said he’d fucked the whole thing up.’

‘Who?’

‘The producer.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He said he’d make it up to me somehow.’

‘Make it up to you?’

‘Yeah – well, you, I suppose, he should have meant. He should have been making it up to you. You’re the one who…’

‘You’re my friend, Garth.’

‘What?’

‘You’re my friend. You can’t fail to be hurt when something bad happens to me.’

‘I do feel bad,’ Garth said. He looked at Jason like it was a new idea. ‘I feel like I’ve hurt you; and I really, actually, do feel bad.’

‘You are, Garth. We all are. We all do things that are wrong.’

‘Wrong?’

‘Dishonourable.’

‘Did you think I was…’

‘You’re supposed to look after me, Garth. Of course you’re going to feel bad if I get hurt. Particularly if you somehow believe that you orchestrated the whole thing.’

‘Orchestrated it?’

‘Made it happen.’

‘Do you think I did that?’

‘No.’

‘I wouldn’t do that.’

‘You couldn’t,’ Jason said. ‘You wouldn’t be able to. Not without me knowing.’

‘You think it’d be hard.’

‘Do I? Well, of course it’d be hard. You couldn’t actually pull it off. Not without me knowing.’ Jason pulled his legs apart and looked down at his groin.

Garth frowned.

‘I don’t mind anyway.’

‘What?’ Garth said.

‘I really don’t mind.’

‘You don’t mind!’ Garth turned around and looked at him. The car swerved again. He looked at Jason’s groin.

‘It’s not that bad.’

‘That bad! Fuck, Jase! What did they give you?’ Garth shook his head and veered back onto the road.

‘I’m feeling a bit sick.’

‘Do you want me to stop.’

‘I think I’m going to vomit.’

‘Hang on.’ Garth pulled the car over. There was a kind of park – right there, right when Jason needed it, there was a kind of park. He had seen the sign a mile back.

Jason got out and held the door open wide while he bent forward and vomited, making sure he was bent right over with his arse in the car. He vomited again and coughed before getting back into the car. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘There’s some wipes,’ Garth said, ‘in the glove compartment.’ He bent over and pulled them out, handing a few to Jason. Jason wiped his mouth and his hands and scrunched them up. He threw them on the floor and wound down the window, putting his head back and taking a deep breath.

‘It’s the anesthetic,’ he said, staring up at the ceiling through half-closed eyes.

Garth was staring at Jason’s groin. ‘Do you want to sit for a while?’

Jason nodded. He closed his eyes. ‘I don’t really care about it, Garth.’

‘You don’t?’

Jason shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘But you’ve lost your gear, Jase.’

Jason thought for a moment. ‘It was always getting in the way. I was always hurting it. It was fucking embarrassing.’

‘It’s more embarrassing now.’

Jason pulled his head forward and saw Garth bent over, staring at Jason’s groin. He turned and looked up at Jason. ‘There’s something hanging out of you, Jase.’

‘What?’ Jason sat forward and Garth moved back, shuffling over to his side of the car and leaning against the window.

Jason spread his legs into a diamond and looked down. It was the string. He held it and turned around on the seat, spreading his legs wide and holding onto the string so that Garth could see it. ‘It’s a piece of string,’ he said.

‘A piece of string?’

‘I’ve got a tampon in my arse.’

Garth sucked his lips into an ‘oops’ face. He frowned.

‘I haven’t got a piss-hole,’ Jason said.

‘What?’

‘It comes out of my arse.’

Garth slapped a hand on his forehead and turned away. It was too much, apparently. He hadn’t envisaged this.

‘Look, Garth,’ Jason said. He reefed the panties to one side and revealed the expanse of smooth skin at his groin.

Garth turned back, unwilling perhaps, but unable to stop himself.

‘There’s not a mark on it.’

Garth swallowed and stared.

Jason glanced quickly and saw the guy was getting hard in his trousers. He decided to play it up.

‘It’s not so bad really, is it?’ He shrugged his shoulders and smiled, looking down at it and smoothing it with the other hand, like he was fascinated. ‘I kind of like it.’

‘But – Jase, you haven’t got a dick – you haven’t got any balls.’

Jason shrugged his shoulders and looked up at Garth, smiling. ‘Does it matter?’ he said.

Garth made a face and shrugged. He shook his head. He was erect now. Jason could see the bulge trying to raise itself up under his trousers. ‘It was so fucking big, Jase. It’s hard to believe it’s just gone. What happened to it?’

‘Your brother ate it,’ Jason said, frowning and looking down at the place as though he didn’t understand what he was saying, wasn’t really thinking about what it meant. Perhaps he was a bit sad about it. Perhaps he was a bit cracked.

‘And they reckon he’s the good one,’ Garth said, as though to no one. ‘Did he drink your blood?’

Jason shrugged. ‘And my arse is okay too,’ he said, sliding down in the seat and pulling the panties up along the backs of his thighs, revealing his arse. He spread his cheeks. ‘It looks okay, hey Garth?’

Garth stared.

‘It’s not like you’d know it had been busted just today.’

Garth reached forward involuntarily with a hand; but Jason kicked him, kicked the hand away and lay there on the seat, looking at Garth uncaringly through his legs. ‘Don’t ever,’ he said, ‘fucking, touch, me. You sick, piece, of fucking, shit.’

He kicked out with a foot and caught Garth in the jaw.

Garth’s face became a sneer. He stared at Jason and twisted his lips. ‘Boy wakes up,’ he said.

‘Damn right he does,’ Jason said. He pulled himself up in the seat and dragged the panties back on. ‘And I am a boy, aren’t I, Garth?’

‘What?’

‘I’m a fucking child.’

‘You can say that again.’

Jason reached out and punched Garth in the side of the face. ‘How the fuck old am I?’ he said, grabbing him by the throat.

Garth pushed him away. ‘Don’t you know?’ he said.

‘No, I don’t fucking know.’

‘You’re eighteen, Jase.’

Jason gritted his teeth. ‘Don’t give me that shit.’ He punched Garth again but Garth warded him off, pushing his hand away. He forced Jason backwards and started the car.

Jason leant against the window. ‘I’m not fucking eighteen. I’m not even seventeen. I was never held back in school. I’m not supposed to be on the fucking team. I know that, Garth.’

‘Well, how old are you, then. Jason?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t fucking remember. You’ve been lying to me for so fucking long that I really don’t fucking well know. And I want to know, you sick piece of shit. Just fucking well tell me!’

‘I don’t think you’d believe me, Jason.’

Jason shook his head and held it with his hands. Of course he wouldn’t believe Garth. How could he possibly believe him?

‘Well, I heard from your parents, you know. They might tell you.’

‘What?’

‘You parents. You remember. Mr. and Mrs. we’re going to Australia and leaving you with the next door neighbor who’ll look after you.’

Jason shook his head.

‘Of course, that was seven years ago. They might not remember themselves.’

Jason bit his lips and started to cry.

‘Oh – and there’s a letter.’ Garth started searching in the satchel beside the seat. ‘I forgot – to give it to you on Friday, which was actually your birthday. But I think, it just might be – a card. They’re coming home.’

Jason tore it open. ‘Hope you are keeping well, son. We’ve finally got the money together and will be over there to get you some time next month. You have to accept what we say about not being able to phone you, Jason. There are laws here about that type of thing. Anyway, we’ll speak to you about it when we see you. Don’t worry Garth by asking him to write us another reply. We’ll see you sometime in July. Happy fifteenth birthday. Mum and Dad and Emily.’

Jason cried. He couldn’t help it.