A Rainy Night

Chapter - 5

For girls it was different, they were only given theoretical knowledge using drawings, books, magazines— about healthy and safe sex, fetishes, fantasies, the syllabus contained all. Boys were forced to do yoga; bending and stretching exercises mostly, belly dance lessons, pole dancing but Sunday morning was the day we waited eagerly. On that day we were taken in a theatre where live sex was being performed in various positions, fellatio given, and there were numerous activities that we saw new, the beastly and rough acts, while other such degrading acts which makes some of us puke. A rowdy lady sauntered in the row, explaining to us the effective use of hand and mouth, the need for servility and total submission that some men demand. Watching the pleasure scenes wetted our panties. We enjoyed it thoroughly.

Sometimes, sitting alone I used to think about the world outside, the things behind the woods and the boundary wall. Was there everyone busy with pleasure games? How do they live? Like us? And what were their lives be like? Life was bleak there, repetitive lectures on purity and virginity, Sunday's show, and pictures and magazines—all of them were creating a monotonous life. Nothing pleases when consumed excessively. 

We all wanted to reach earliest the age required to be taken out and be free from this monotony, but who knew then that life of a woman never changes, what seems a faint light in the darkness is a dying ember. So it happened, how readily we do the things we are prohibited, how easily we break it, without knowing and knowing unconsciously we plunge ourselves in the mire which divests the possibility of return.

I first saw him at the age of five, if I remember correctly, he was new to the class and ordered to come in front and be a specimen for us to gaze. He was severely mortified seeing fifty eyes staring on his naked member, his hand was coming to hide his crotch when he did that, the teacher scolded him and the whole class laughed. He was red with embarrassment, at that moment I felt a sudden attachment to him. I was one year senior to him, after the class, I moved to his seat, he was sitting in the corner bench engrossed in himself lost in the lanes of his young memory.

"You will soon be accustomed to all this,  everyone feels shy and laughed at first time." He looked at me, I liked his innocent eyes. He was puzzled seeing a girl talking to him. I told him my name, Rinu.

"Your?"

"I had a name but I couldn't recall it now."

"You are new they will give you one in a day or two when they insert the chip."

"Chip?"

"Yes, everyone..." as I was beginning to speak I saw around we were the last one left to exit so I moved out of the class fearing the teacher will suspect something.

We talked and we sensed an understanding growing between us. This became our daily routine, after the class was over we sneaked for a few minutes to share the ordeals he was witnessing in boys hostel. Sometimes, he revealed the manly exercises that the senior boys did on the ground floor, naked, big penises dangling, other days he would tell he heard from a room the moans of woman in pain—crying. While narrating all this he made the face of a curious child eagerly waiting to reveal the discovery he had made. On other times he would say,

"Two boys were doing the same what we see in the picture hung there,"

"How can the boys do that?" I asked curiously, "these things are meant for boys and girls."

"I knew you won't believe, they were in the same position, one was bending and other pushing from behind."

Our meetings were filled with sharing of what he had seen in his hostel and what I saw in mine. When I told him I massaged breast of a senior yesterday, he would listen curiously, then he would narrate that a senior asked him to grip his penis, "it was thick...you wouldn't believe." I wanted to question why he thinks I will not believe what he says but refrained.