Judy McGuire Ch. 02: The Magic 8-Ball

Following on from 'that dress' I decided to keep the character Judy McGuire and use her in the next contest against the theme of "Magic 8-Ball".

*****

I lay on my bed in the small apartment watching the computer screen flickering in the background showing a lesbian porno film. I had ducked Kyra after her bout with the photographer as although she was full of energy, my heart wasn't really in it as I didn't fancy a mouthful of his goo that she was no doubt filled. I know that some women love that, but not for me, I like my women to be gushing forth their own sweet juices when I take them to heaven and back.

I was naked with my legs wide apart, idly touching myself, as I watched the scene develop on screen. There were two more slightly older aggressive lesbians sporting large strapons that they were about to use on some innocent young thing they had lured into their bed. I had watched the film hundreds of times, though not for a while, and knew every frame by heart but it still excited me to see what was about to happen in the next scene. One of the two lesbians was on her back with the strapon pointing up into the air as the young girl lowered herself onto it. Her moan of pleasure echoed around the room which grew even louder as the other lesbian started to force her dildo into the girl's ass. The girl being double penetrated turned and looked full into the camera with eyes that were full of both lust and pain as the two large fake cocks opened her up.

I studied her face and body and then looked down at my own and was pleased to see that I hardly put on any weight since I had made that film. Sure, my long blonde hair, drawn into two pigtails had long since been cut into its current spiky state, but there was no mistaking that was me looking back at myself. I reached out and grabbed a couple of dildos I had placed on the bedside table earlier and coated one liberally with gel before lifting up and pushing it deep into my ass. Pulling my knees apart but up towards my chest and twisting round I could I reach around and hold the dildo in deep while plunging the other into my soaking pussy. My moans on the bed matched my sounds on the screen as I tried to recreate the scene I was straining my neck to see. Despite the contortions, I could feel my orgasm building and the memories of almost 10 years ago were flooding through me as I heard myself on screen, "Oh yes I have never done this before but it feels so good." Total bullshit of course but it sounded good for the cameras and the orgasm that followed was real enough. That memory and the sight of me orgasming sent me over the top and I thrashed around the bed as waves of pleasure ran through me.

As I lay there, my body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, I wondered what had sparked me off to make me want to watch that film again. I hadn't watched it for ages as with Kyra I was pretty much the dominant partner, and I am not sure she would even understand if she saw me getting screwed like that. But Kyra had gotten her rocks that evening with the photographer at the party so it was only fair that I got mine off as well. Thinking of the photographer I couldn't help but giggle as I pictured his face when he got home with his balls well-drained and looked at his camera. Spookily enough all the pictures he was snapping while he was in the cupboard had been deleted as if by magic. Well not really magic, more me sneaking in there and tidying things up while he was balls deep in Kyra without any idea what was going on around him.

Glancing at the clock I saw that it was nearly midnight and would soon be time for the question. Scrambling naked across the bed I ignored the dildos lying there obscenely and delving into the drawer beside my bed came up with a small velvet bag. Carefully opening the bag, I removed what looked like an oversized 8-Ball which indeed it was. Cradling it in my hands like a precious jewel I watched the digital clock click 23:58 showing there were two minutes to go until I could ask the same question I had asked the ball for the last nine months, "Was Michael alive?" Closing my eyes for a moment I recalled the first time I had seen the ball, something that had been with me ever since.

*****

I had just turned eight, my elder twin brothers James & Robert were fast approaching 15 and the youngest of the family, Michael was only three. Michael, or Mikey as he was more often called, was the baby, well more my baby, as he was my very own life-sized doll. I think that poor child attended enough doll's tea parties to last him a lifetime. James and Robert, or Jamie & Bobby as they were more often called were more than happy to let me look after the 'snotball' as they referred to Mikey.

Our parents had been away to the far east or the middle east or some exotic location, I was never sure where, and had returned with presents for us all. The twins got some electronic toys, planes I think, and little Michael got a walking puppy that followed him around and barked. I thought he would wet himself when the dog stopped, barked twice and uttered the word, 'Mikey". I remember my father presenting me with the same dark green velvet bag the ball had spent its life in with the words, "This may look like a toy but it is much more than that."

I looked at the ball not really sure what it was and turned it slowly in my hands inspecting every aspect of it, wondering if it would sing or even explode when he laughed softly and his soft Irish brogue came to the fore, "Ask it a question and it will tell you the answer," before I could ask a million questions he held up his finger and tapped the side of his nose and with a twinkle in his eye said, "it will only answer yes or no questions and because it's truly magic it will only answer one question per person per day."

He could see the look of disbelief tinged with the ultimate trust that every child gives to their parents and smiled as he said to the ball, "Does my daughter love me more than anything in the world?" The ball seemed to glow and shake then he turned it over and smiled as he read the underside before turning it to me. There, in glowing writing, it said, 'Without a doubt,' he then looked at the window where the sun shone brightly and said to the ball, "Is the sun shining outside?" Again, the ball shimmered and shook and when he showed me the underside it read, "Ask again later."

I carried the ball to my room like it was made of the most fragile glass and the slightest movement would cause it to break into a thousand pieces. I remember spending hours deciding what question to ask and it was in this moment of contemplation that the twins burst into my room without knocking, as they so often did. After some teasing, Bobby grabbed the ball and started to shake it to see if it rattled before asking it, "Is my brother Jamie gay?" The ball shook and shimmered and Bobby started to chant, "Jamie is a gay lord," before Jamie snatched it from his hands and turned it over.

"You are a liar Bobby it says, 'very doubtful,'" said Jamie holding the ball up.

"That means nothing," retorted Bobby, "means there is some doubt, must be that pink shirt you bought."

Jamie then looked at the ball and he laughed as he said, "My turn to ask," and he asked a question that stuck with me forever, "Is Judy a lezzer?" The ball vibrated and when Jamie turned it over, he started to mock, "It says 'without a doubt' so you must be a lezzer, Judy."

Bobby snatched it from him, read the same words and the pair started to chant, "Judy is a lezzer."

Their chanting stopped when I looked at them both with an honest lack of comprehension on my face and blurted out, "What's a lezzer?"

It was at that moment my mother came into the room and all hell broke loose as she admonished the twins. Later that night as I was being tucked up in bed, I asked my mother what a lezzer was and smiling she said to me, "A lezzer is a lesbian," then seeing a question about to burst from my lips, she smiled kindly as she went on, "and a lesbian is a human being the same as all of us, it is a woman who loves other women."

I looked at my mother as I said, "well I love you Mummy so I must be a lesbian and I am happy with that."

The ball kind of faded into insignificance as only one question a day made it a little boring though every so often I would take it out and ask questions like, "Will I get into Mary Wilson's knickers," or "Is Mrs Greene really bisexual?" Sometimes the answers would be yes other times they would be no, but every time they came true. Was always a shame that I never got that far with Mary, but had a lot of fun with Mrs Greene behind her husband's back.

We all grew up, and the boys were the first to leave home following in their father's footsteps and both joining the 1st battalion of the parachute regiment, otherwise known as 1 para. I bucked the trend a little and joined the police rather than the army like my father and the twins and also turned down my Mother's idea to join the 'community' otherwise known as the intelligence corp.

If me turning my back on the army was enough of a shock to the family, Mikey's choice was even more of a shock. Having qualified from university he announced that he wanted to do missionary work, after all, he said the McGuire's had done and were doing their best to reduce the population of the world, perhaps he should be doing something to redress the balance.

Despite the tears, threats and other forms of pressure Mikey turned out to be the strongest-willed of us all and we were all there to wave his plane off as he started his journey to the Central African Republic. I am sure there was a tear in my father's eyes as he muttered about the fool boy getting his pig headiness from his mother.

We got the occasional postcard and even the odd phone call until one day they just stopped. After a lot of phone calls from my parents to various contacts they had across the globe, it was discovered that his charity refugee camp had been overrun by rebel forces in the long-running civil war. Michael's body was never found among the dead and it was assumed he had been taken, but nobody knew where.

That was nearly nine months ago and ever since my Mother had called me to tell me the news, I had asked the magic 8 ball the same question, "Was Michael still alive?" Every time the ball would shimmer and shake and the glowing answer would vary from, 'It is certain,' to 'As I see it. Yes,' or even the weird 'Outlook is good,' but it was always a positive response.

*****

The alarm on the clock buzzed telling me it was now tomorrow and as I had for every day since he had gone missing, I held the ball reverently in my hands and whispered, "Is Michael still alive?"

The ball shook and shimmered, but at that exact same moment, the cheap phone I had been issued with when I started working started to buzz insistently. Glancing down I saw the number was from England but I had no idea who it could be as no one outside of the family and work contacts knew my number.

Clicking on receive I heard a voice that I knew instantly was my father's, "Judith," he always called me by my full name as he did with all the boys, "They have found Michael." I didn't even think to ask him how he got my number but instead, I turned the 8 ball over and read the glowing words. The tears flowed freely down my face as I read the words ...