Page 56 of The Howl
The sight of him naked and blissed out on his pillow robbed me of words. Instead of the big, pink monstrosity, he wore a rubber ring around his waist, the odd nub attached to it centered just over his pelvis.
As I watched, a tiny shower of sparkles erupted from below the nub and landed on the pillow beside him.
“Look! It’s changing colors.”
I glanced at the multiple smears on the pillow I planned to burn in the near future. If the quantity was any indication, he’d been at this for a while.
“That’s probably not a good thing. The humans believe boys will go blind if they play with their bits too much.”
“I can’t help myself. I want to touch them all the time. I just need…”
Another shower of sparkles erupted, and a dreamy smile ghosted his lips.
“Sparkles make everything better,” he said blissfully.
I slammed the drawer shut and hoped his squeal meant he’d fallen off his pillow.
“You better have that thing turned off and in the garbage by the time I’m done showering.”
He wisely listened because twenty minutes later, the bedroom was quiet when I emerged from the bathroom. However, the concentrated smell of brownie lust had only grown. I opened every window in my room before opening the drawer.
Piepen sat in an unpillowed corner, his clad knees pulled up to his chest. He gave me a sad look and held up the ring in one hand.
“I would have thrown it away, but I couldn’t. I was locked in a dark drawer.”
“You broke the rules. Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you. And don’t expect me to throw that away after what you were doing with it. Fly yourself to the garbage.”
He sullenly zoomed across the room and dropped the toy into my trash bin.
“I’ll be right back with some food for you. Do not touch anything else in those drawers.”
I left the room, fluctuating between guilt and annoyance. When I’d closed Piepen’s drawer, I hadn’t been thinking. I’d promised never to do that to him and had broken my promise in barely a day. Yet, I’d scolded him for breaking the rules. Rules he couldn’t help but break. Unlike me, he wasn’t trying to be something other than what the gods made him. A horny little brownie who needed to procreate before his short life was over.
I sighed, wondering if apologizing for what I’d done would only encourage him to continue his ways or if my silence would somehow curb his instincts.
Like the morning before, I found Mom in the dining room, her back to the door. This time, she was alone. After her parting words last night, I felt a healthy amount of concern for Mrs. Quill. Yet, that concern almost wasn’t enough to keep me in the room. After leaving me, Mom had gone back to her “meal” and had eaten very loudly for hours, which had probably contributed to Piepen’s driving need to touch himself.
“You’re hovering again,” Mom said, busting me before I could officially make up my mind whether to leave or not.
“Sorry. I’m just tired.” As soon as I said it, I wanted to smack myself.
Mom turned in her chair, setting her coffee aside to worriedly scrutinize me.
“Still? Perhaps I should take you to see—”
“I’m not sick, Mom. I swear.”
Her skepticism remained firm in her expression.
“That was over eight hours of sleep.”
I gave an aggrieved sigh.
“No, it wasn’t. Your company was enthusiastically loud and kept me up. That’s all. Will Mrs. Quill be joining us?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
Mom hesitated a moment.
“No. She and I spoke this morning. I asked her to either feed you or stay away. I’m less than pleased with her choice but know how much her willingness means to you, so I didn’t force the issue. Yet.”
