Singlesticks

Back in the day, I was “One of the guys.” Because we hadn’t learned about anything else, yet… #G2m #Trans

Or, a “Tomboy,” but I didn’t have any brothers. A little sister, who I wanted nothing to do with, because she always seemed to want to play stupid games. House, and tea parties with her dolls, and stuffed animals.

I guess you could say it was a more “Innocent” time. Meaning the grownups didn’t tell us certain things. All they said was “Not in front of the kids,” and “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Well, I was older, and I got my period. That was disgusting, so I had to wear big bandaids in my underwear, and otherwise try to ignore it. They came with the talk, about becoming a young lady, and what I wasn’t supposed to do until I got married.

That was about it, but staying away from Boys wasn’t an option, they were my friends. I just didn’t have anything in common with the other girls, and I could only sit through so much talk about fashion, hair, and makeup.

I didn’t feel “Trapped,” in a girl’s body. I wasn’t even aware that I was supposed to. The only reference to trans-sexuals that I might have encountered was Randal watching “Chicks with Dicks” in Clerks, but I hadn’t seen that either.

My dad could have rented it from the video store, so that should tell you something. Blockbuster was still a thing, and the local Video Store had a back room, we weren’t supposed to go into. I didn’t know why, and while we’re picking out movies to watch as a family, dad didn’t go back there, either.

So, that was about all I knew about S. E. X. It was something that could wait, until I was married. Then, I guess I was up the tree in my back yard, sitting on the board I stuck between 2 branches, to look over the fence.

“Hey,” some boys ran up. “Come quick, there’s this guy in a pink skirt at the park!” Colin, and his big brother Ian.

The older one said “Coach Aberdeen.” He pushed his shoulder, “And it’s not a skirt, it’s a kilt.” He waved me down, “Come on.”

So, I pulled up my rope swing, enough to drape it over the fence, and climb down. It was my escape route, and I left it hanging out to climb back up. Rather than go all the way around, but it was getting on towards Winter. Almost December, so most of the leaves had already fell, and I had to rake them up. Being the eldest, but also a lot of them were left unraked by the side of the road.

On the other side of the fence, the trash truck would show up. With a big old vacuum cleaner on a trailer, to suck them up, and blow them in the back. A wood chipper too, they just had the 1 trailer to pick up all the leaves, and sticks if you collected them, and put them out on the street.

Then, we got to the park, and sure enough. Mr. Aberdeen was walking out in the field with his unicycle thing. He used that to measure out on the football field too, then rolling the hopper out to lay down the lines. He stopped, and pulled out a pad of paper from the fanny pack.

“It’s a Sporran.” He told Ian later, when he called it a fanny pack. Neither one of us knew what that word ment. “Fanny,” in Great Briton until he told Ian later. It would have been like calling it a “Pussy bag” over here, but it was furry, and it did hang down in front of his crotch.

Now, he doesn’t have a Scottish accent, like Groundskeeper Willy. He’s just a Scottish American, but he participates in the Highland Games, and that’s what he was training for.

“Oh,” Ian nodded, “I heard of them. That’s where you throw telephone poles around. I saw that on Saturday morning once, after cartoons.” He scratched his head, “But that was a while ago.”

“The Caber Toss.” He bent over, and straightened up, with a grunt. Swung a weird looking weight over to both hands. “I throw the weight for distance, but I haven’t got a real one. So I make do with this.”

A Kettle Bell, which I’d never seen before, but we all thought that was funny. Because it didn’t look like a kettle, or a bell. It looked more like a bouncy ball, with a handle, only smaller. Only about the size of Colin’s head, and made out of solid metal. Instead of inflated rubber, of course.

So, he carried it back to the picnic table, where he had a square lined out in 2x4s. Then, he showed us how to spin it, so the kilt swung out like a figure skater. He threw it with a grunt, then stopped to shade his eyes. “Looks like about 25 yards,” he judged, but then he put up the yard lines on the football field every week, so he would know. “Maybe thirty.”

There was a clunk, and the boys pulled out this big furry circle, with leather straps over it. “Is this a shield?” Ian pulled it away from Colin, and turned it around to stick his arm in the strap.

“My Targe,” coach Aberdeen went around, “Which is a kind of Shield, or Buckler.”

“There’s a sword, too.” Colin ducked under the table, where another ball rolled down, and pulled it out by the stick. “Is this bambo?” He felt the knuckles, and held it out, so I could see the leather ball, or 3 quarters of one stitched around the end, like a softball.

“Rattan,” Coach Aberdeen stuck his hand in the ball to take it. “Let me see that, I’ll show you.” He took up the Targe, too.

“Come on,” I ran off with Colin out to the field. “Help me carry this back, uph!” It took both hands to lift it, “It’s heavy.” He caught up, and took one side of the handle, while I held the other to carry it back, between us.

Ian stood back, and watched Coach Aberdeen posing, and swinging slowly. His arm tucked up like a boxer, so the studded leather shield covered the side of his face, but his eyes peered out over the top. “Never take a Highlander’s Targe.” He taught, switching to History Teacher, only Scottish history, because that’s the subject he knew best.

“Why not?”

“Because a Highlander knows well enough to make you flinch.” He poked the air in front of his face, and Ian threw his hands up. Even with the warning. “See if you do that, then the Targe will cover your eyes. You won’t see me go low, and gut you like this.”

“Uh, let go.” I caught Colin’s side, and bent my knees to swing it up again. “You can throw it again, I bet you can throw it even further this time!”

I dared him, but between the 3 of us, all trying to get his attention. He set his weapons down on the table, and told them “Leave it.” Then, he picked up the kettle bell off the bench, and stepped back in the square again.

This time, I payed close attention, to watch the whole move, but also saw what he had on under the kilt. “HRUH!” it flew off, and his pleats fell back down, but up close, I could see that it wasn’t pink at all. It was red, and white checks. Like a tablecloth, only it had darker red pin stripes criss-crossed through the white parts, and they were diagonal, like diamonds.

“You wore biker shorts.” Listen to me, talking about clothes, like a girl.

“Well, I’m sure you heard what a Scottsman wears under his kilt,” he winked, “But it’s not the Renaissance. So yes, I wear compression pants.”

“What’s the difference?” But Ian interrupted. “You sword fight, at the Ren faires?”

“I have.”

“Come on,” I waved Colin over, and I told him a story. While we walked back out to grab the Kettle Bell, but this time he brought the unicycle counter, to measure it.

“Well, it was a song really, but I don’t remember the whole tune. Basically, there was a bar maid working in a pub. That’s a bar where they serve food.”

“I know,” he looked up from the counter, “I’m Irish?”

“Oh yeah.” O’glass. “So anyways, she had her hair tied up.” I pulled the hair tie off my wrist, “Like this, only she had a ribbon in her hair. Since she was blonde, and blue eyes, it was sky blue to match.”

He nodded.

“Well, there was a drunk Scott in there, and he had a kilt on like that.”

“Was it pink?”

“I don’t know, but that isn’t pink. If you’d payed attention, you would have seen that it’s red, and white checks, like a tablecloth?”

He stopped, and looked back. “Oh yeah.”

“Now, stop interrupting,” I giggled, “So, he passed out, and the bartender locked up. She helped him out to the street, and walked him home, but he was staggering drunk, and he passed out again, while she was unlocking his front door. She couldn’t pick him up, and drag him in. He was too heavy, the best she could do was hold him steady with his arm around her.”

“Did she kiss him?” Ian had rosy cheeks to begin with, but they turned even rosier, and he looked away.

“Huh!” He never asked me anything like that before, but he was 12, so. I guess maybe he was starting to think about, stuff like that. “Uh, help me with this.” He picked up the meter by the stick, and carried it in the other hand, but it was heavy.

“Uff, huh. So, she heard about what Scotsmen wear under their kilts. Huh.” It was hard to talk, and carry it at the same time, but I managed, and it even helped tell the story even better.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Huh.”

“There naked under their kilts?”

“Well, that’s the story, but I’m. Huh, sure that. Different Scotsmen. Uh, wear different things, huh. Just like anybody else.”

“I bet you wear boxers, huh?”

“No?” I shook my head, “Why would I wear boxers for?”

“I don’t know, why do you wear overalls all the time?”

“Never mind that, you’re ruining the story,” but before we knew it, we’re back to the picnic table, and I had to catch my breath. “Huh, huh, huh! Let me catch my breath, Jesus that thing is heavy?”

“Hey Ian!” Colin wasn’t even out of breath, but he ran around the picnic table. “Shelly was telling me this story about.”

“Well, anyway, she saw what he had under there, and she pulled the ribbon out of the hair.”

Mr. Aberdeen put his Targe, and wooden sword down. “The ribbon was a blue as the sky in spring.” I nodded, and then he raised his voice to sing. Knocking on the table to keep time, and tapping his foot, in Argyle socks.

“They marveled for a moment, then one said “We’d best be gone,
But let’s leave a present for our friend before we move along.”
So as a gift they left a blue silk ribbon tied into a bow
Around the bonny star of the Scot’s kilt-lifting showed.”

The boys stopped fighting over the stick, and listened, Ian’s face getting redder the whole time.

“The Scotsman woke to nature’s call, and stumbled toward the trees.
Behind a bush he lifts his kilt, and gawks at what he sees.
And then in a startled voice, he says to what’s before his eyes:
“I don’t know where you’ve been my friend, but I see you won first prize!”

Hi diddle diddle hidey ho, high diddley eye oh.
“I don’t know where you’ve been my friend, but I see you’ve won first prize!”
He finished picking up his shield, and putting it on. Held the sword in on hand so the ball stuck over the edge, and bent to lift the kettle bell off the bench. “I’ll see you at school.”

He carried them off to his car, and left us laughing so hard. “You get it? Because it was a blue ribbon.”

“Yeah, and he thought it was first prize because it was so big! Ahahahah!”

I sniffed, and wiped my eyes. “Whew!” I didn’t mind, that he stole my joke, because he told it better anyway. He didn’t sing it the exact same way as Mike Cross, but I figured he didn’t write it himself, neither. It’s the kind of song you sing in a bar, or pub anyway.

“So, Colin.” Ian got ahold of himself first, “Coach Aberdeen says he teaches singlestick.”

I snorted, since it sounded like he said Dick, and all this dirty talk, not to mention seeing what he wore under his Kilt was having an effect on me.

“That’s what those practice swords are called, and it’s like a foil for fencing, only Highlanders used a basket hilted broadsword, or backsword instead of rapiers, smallswords, or spadroons.”

“Uh huh? What’s a Spadroon?”

“I don’t know, but maybe I can start taking fencing classes with him, after school?”

“Owh,” Colin whined, “I want to learn to sword fight.”

I just shook my head, and followed them through the park, but then Colin said Sword Fight, and I laughed to myself. Imagining them dropping their pants, and holding them out. Whacking them together, and making Ching Ching noises as a sort of dirty sword fight. I sure was having a lot of dirty thoughts, about dicks, when before that.

I guess the dirtiest thoughts I had were about pissing. Hanging around boys like that, and a little jealous that they didn’t have to pop a squat. Holding onto the bush, or a tree, they just had to unzip their pants, flop it out, and shake it off when they’re done.

I’d seen Ian, and Colin both pissing by the side of a trail, or the dirt road out to the bike jumps. I’d never let them see me pee, but not so much because I was modest. Deep down inside, I was more than a little ashamed of myself for being a girl. That’s what they called it, when somebody did something that would be considered “Gay” today.

Like going out to practice for the Highland Games, in an Aberdeen tartan kilt. Being a 7th grader, Colin immaturely thought that it was a Pink Skirt, and that made him a girl. When it couldn’t be farther from the truth, there’s nothing more manly than a bunch of Scotsmen going out, and flipping tree trunks, or throwing a ball, and chain. I found out that’s what the Weight looked like, nowadays. When before that they used to drill a hole in a rock to knot a piece of rope through, and threw that.

That’s what the Highland Games were all about, throwing heavy things around for distance, or to see how high it would go over a bar, like a pole vaulter. That’s how they kept the English out, and the Romans before that. They gathered up on the tops of hills, and threw the whole hillside down on them, that’s why it’s called the highlands!

“You know Popop’s name is really Galloglass, right?” Ian went on, teaching his little brother, who nodded. “Well, back in the old days, it was Oglach, in old Irish. That means a young warrior, or a hero, so we’re descended from Irish heros, but get this. He said that the Irish called them Foreign Warriors, because some clans helped them keep out the Normans, and then the Marcher Lords.”

“The marcher lords?” He liked the sound of that. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know, some type of Welsh Lords, or it has something to do with the Welsh, I think. I’ll ask Popop,” that’s what they called their grandaddy.

“Hey, Colin?” I stopped by the fence. “You remember that singlestick you liked so much?”

“Uh huh?” He stopped, and nodded at me. While I held out the rope. “Well, I might be able to make one, or 2. If you want to come in, and play sword fight with me.”

Ian ran off, without even saying anything about what for. It turned out later that he wanted to go talk to his popop about the olden days, before he went back home from the weekend. That left me, and Ian to each other, but he needed help climbing over the fence.

He had a kind of pantyline I felt, pushing up on his butt. While he pulled the rope, and had his feet up on the fence. That was the only way I could hold him, but for the first time. Well, the first day, I started having these dirty feelings. Thoughts, and thrills from telling dirty jokes, and feeling his underwear through his pants like that.

Anything like that at all, but it turns out he wore simple plain white cotton briefs. With a little flap up front I thought was a pocket at first, but instead of using it to carry a cup, he stuck his fingers in, and fished his wiener out.

While I unbuckled my shoulder straps, and unbuttoned the sides of my overalls, to get them down over my hips. I wasn’t proud of my body, even though I didn’t know why exactly, but I reminded him. “You remember when you asked about what kinds of underpants I wear?”

Mostly just to see his rozey cheeks get even redder. “Well, you told me they’re not boxers.” He nodded.

“Huh, yeah. My mom, and dad buy me all my underwear, but I don’t really care about them.”

“Do you have a bra on, or a training bra?”

So, I pulled my shirt up, and off. Oh yeah, behind the doghouse. We didn’t have a dog, so it wasn’t really a real doghouse, but we had enough wood to put up, and play dogs, when we’re little. So, dad got out the coping saw, and cut an arch. The corners off the top front, and back, then put a roof on either side to play Snoopy underneath the tree.

I didn’t have a treehouse. There wasn’t really anywhere to put one, but there were a couple branches on the one side. Over by the Tarzan swing, where I could put a board up, and sit. That was all childish stuff, but I didn’t have a whole lot to show.

I was skinny, and even pretty fit. From walking everywhere, when I didn’t run. Stomping through the woods in big heavy boots, climbing trees, and sticking our bare feet in the creek with our cuffs rolled up to play with yarn on a stick. Not fishing, there weren’t any fish in that little creek, so we just pretended, and watched the yarn wiggle around in the ripples.

Ian looked down, at my white cotton panties, as soon as I got my shirt off. “I don’t care about them neither, it’s inside what counts.” He kicked his pants up, and stepped forward. Looking up, with a tent pole in his tighty whiteys. He touched me, and helped me pull them down over my hips.

So, I touched him, and made him hunch. “Huh, its sensitive. Let me.” He pulled it out, and I just stared for a moment. I sure wasn’t going to tie a blue ribbon on. Even if that was the sort of thing I wore in my hair, but then he shook his head with a grin. “I thought you’re a lesbian.”

“What’s that?” Seriously, that’s how innocent we were, as 12 year olds, in the 90s. I never even went looking for my father’s stash, not yet. So, I hadn’t seen any pictures with girl-girl action in them, but I wouldn’t have been interested anyway. I didn’t even like being a girl myself, let alone looking at my body in the mirror, because it just looked weird.

So, say what you will about liking pockets, and have you ever tried climbing a tree in a dress? Overalls being practical, and heavy boots better for stomping around in the woods. I played Softball, because they wouldn’t let me play baseball, but being a middle school boy, Colin thought that ment I was Gay. I didn’t like my body, let alone want another girl’s body, and I never wanted to show it to anyone else, until Colin asked me so nicely.

He took my hand, and put it in front of his underpants. “Here,” he showed me how to hold it, with 2 fingers, and my thumb. “Like this.” Leaving about an inch to stroke it up and down, but my uncle always made a fist. Pumping it, and rolling his eyes, to say “You’re jerking me around,” when he thought my dad was trying to cheat him out of a deal. Or a bet, or whatever.

“Huh, turn around.” I put my chin down, to look over his shoulder, and he felt back behind him. Between my legs, but standing like that. It was easy to imagine my arm around his body was mine. I felt him feeling around, but that was about it. I mostly payed attention to what I had in front of me. “Huh, yeah, faster. Uh huh!” He hunched, and slipped out, but bumped my legs with his butt.

“Hold still,” I grabbed it, and pinched it again. Rubbed the skin underneath with my fingertips, until he hunched again, but I held on. Then, he started shivering, shaking, and shuddered breathing. “HhuhHhuhH!”

Nothing came out, but I wasn’t expecting it to. I hadn’t seen cumshots, and naked ladies with shaved pussies leaning back for them to shoot it all over their tits, and face. I hadn’t really seen anything except for mom, and dad kissing before they went to bed. Closing the door, with the lights off, and probably pulled the covers over them for all I know. that, and Uncle Ed going through the motion, to say that dad was jerking him around.

I just beat off Colin first, and it was the first real glance at what boys did, when they got boners. It wasn’t my last, of course Ian was the first one to hear about it. Then, he wanted to play too, but he stole some nudie books to bring with them, and show me how they did it.

Of course, he was older, too. In high school, so he had enough to grip with an inch to spare, and stroke him off. Taking Health/P.E. with Coach Aberdeen, then Singlestick fencing after school, and show us some stuff once I cut rubber balls open, and holes to put sticks thought. It wasn’t just beating them off all the time, or laying back to let them give me facials. (Once Colin stopped shooting blanks.)

But it was a big part of it, until I finally found out what was wrong with me. I was one of the boys, only I wasn’t just like them. I still looked enough like a girl to give them boners to jerk them off.

Since I never had one of my own to play with.

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