Everyday Life - Pilot
- - -Everyday Life- - -
Pilot
The snake looked out the car window, looking bored as ever. Of course, he always looked bored. One of the perks of being about as monotonous as a metronome. His scales were dark green, and got lighter on his chin and what of his chest was visible in the black t-shirt. His piercing amber eyes were dull because of how they were only half-open. His shoulder-length black hair was pulled into what was called a dragon-spine; a segmented ponytail with multiple hair bands, resembling a dragon's spines on their backs. He wore one color: black. His glasses were somehow perched on his nose despite his not having any external ears.
"Now, I want you to do your best to try and adjust." Said the male fox in the driver's side. "I know it can be really weird, being in a whole new crowd of people with a whole new school - -"
The snake turned up the car CD player. "What was that, dad? I can't hear you." He said flatly. No anger or sarcasm, just a simple statement.
Ron, his father, turned it off. "As I was saying, I know it's hard for you to adjust to a whole new town. Especially you, Simon."
"Did we move?" He asked.
"All I'm saying is try to give the others a chance." Ron said, turning to look at his daughter and Simon at the same time. Brit was a fox like her dad with auburn fur and dark brown head-hair that she wore straight to her waist. She wore a pink top with butterflies and blue jeans with sandals. She was a freshman this year, and was two years younger than Simon.
Ron had dark brown hair as well, and wore a suit. He worked as a marketing consultant, though he only did so well. It was their mother, Teresa that was the bacon bringer with her position as a prosecutor. Simon would never live down the one time he'd accidentally said "persecutor" instead.
The small family car found its way into a round parking lot in front of DoradoHigh School. There were a number of students walking around. All of them sort of blended together into one mass of color. All of them looked so...normal. Simon hated this place already.
Brit got out of the car first. Simon heard someone say, "Hey, I like your top." He rolled his eyes. "What's your name?"
"Brit Jarvis." The vixen answered.
"Cool name." Said another female with a rather nasal voice.
"I'll try to help her through this difficult period of adjustment." Simon said, getting out of the car. Already, five students were talking to Brit. He didn't think it was worth the effort to say anything. Simon stood to his full height - 6'4" - and walked with the graceful, serpentine smoothness passed down to him. His lanky, thin body looked odd carrying a rather large bag.
After a short while, all of the new students, regardless of age, were taken on a short tour of the school. It was pointless, really, but nonetheless, they ultimately ended up at the Student Services office as a rather plump otter woman showed them around.
"Now then, we here at Dorado High strive to aid our students in any area that they may need, and so each of you will go through a rather simple psychological exam to see if there are any particular areas you may need help in."
"In other words," Simon muttered inaudibly, "To weed out the freaks and weirdoes early on."
"No one said we going to have to take a test!" Brit said to her brother. Next to him, she looked like a midget at only 5'6". Simon's thin body, however, kept him from being seen as a mountain of a snake.
"Don't worry. It's a psychological test. A mental exam. You're automatically exempt." He said flatly, hardly even moving his eyes as he looked at her.
"Oh! Okay!" Brit nodded. Simon smirked.
Inside the room, the siblings were seated next to each other. A middle-aged mare held up a picture that was rather simple: two stick-people, one girl and one boy, with the girl speaking and the boy not really doing anything.
"Now, I want you both to make up a story based on this picture."
"Um, I don't think I'm even supposed to be here." Brit said. "I'm exempt."
"It's not for a grade." The mare said.
"Oh. Um...I think that the girl is telling the guy that she'll meet him later after he asked her out on a date, but then she'll have to come up with some excuse for the guy she's already dating."
Simon looked subtly out of the corner of his eyes at his sister. That's just what she would say.
"Very good. Simon?" The mare asked, holding the picture up to him.
"The girl is trying to confess her innermost insecurities to this guy, but since he has more testosterone than brain power, he's simply thinking about when he's going to get into bed with her. This will eventually result in the end of their relationship, and a possible physical exchanging of blows." Simon said off of the top of his head. He saw the mare look at him strangely, but didn't find the energy to care.
After more questions like this, and more answers of the same nature, Simon and Brit were sent onto their classes. They almost split up to go to their classes, but saw two males kissing in the hallway. Both of them stared. A little too obviously, apparently, because the two rather large felines both saw them.
"Hey. You never see two guys kiss before?" One asked. He looked like a cougar.
"No." Simon said. "At least, not so openly."
The other one, a panther, just smiled. "They must be new here, Glen."
"Well, then, let me tell you two this:" Glen started. "Most of the tougher guys around here are gay, so this is probably one of the only schools where homeopaths get beaten up more than us."
"I think you mean 'homophobes.'" Tyler said.
"Whatever. You get what I'm telling you, though?" Glen said.
"GAY!?" Brit said loudly enough to notice, but not enough to echo in the hallway. "How am I supposed to date guys now!?"
The two felines laughed. "That's not a problem. A lot of guys are still bi or straight." The Panther said. "You won't have any problem dating here."
Simon smiled subtly. He was gay. Now he probably wouldn't have to worry about letting that slip at school. It'd be like saying he had two legs. Granted, snakes aren't supposed to have legs, but still.
"C'mon, Jack." The cougar said to the panther. "We need to get to history class." They walked off. "See you two around." Glen said behind his back.
Brit let out a sigh. "What a relief! Now we can both get some boyfriends!" She said.
"Oh, joy." Simon said. He really didn't want a boyfriend now.
The two of them split up and went to their classes. Simon was surprised to see the two felines in the class. He sat on the other end of the room, where there was at least a one-desk radius around him. He was at the very front. A black bird of some kind walked into the room wearing a crooked tie and a white shirt. His eyes were rather wide, even for a bird. From what he'd gathered, Simon assumed this was Mr. Dmitri.
"Now, class. I'm aware that we have some new students to this school." He said in a strained voice. "Mister Simon Jarvis, I believe?"
"Yes." Simon said simply.
"I know you might find it UNFAIR," He yelled, "To be asked a question on your first day, but I don't work like that. Can you calmly and UNEMOTIONALLY tell me what the Dust Bowl was?" He said with a smirk on his face. From the way he looked at him, Simon could tell that he wanted him to get it wrong.
"The Dust Bowl was a result of improper land use." He started. "Due to overuse of the land, and removing too many plants, there was no anchorage in the soil. During a country-wide drought, the winds kicked up large amounts of dust and debris causing whirlwinds of dirt that killed many people, and destroyed many homes and farms." He paused. "None of these people ever went to the land of Oz." He added. Apparently nobody got it, because nobody laughed.
"Very good, Simon." Dmitri said. "Almost...suspiciously good. NOW. Who can tell me what OTHER...nationwide disaster happened at the same time as the Dust Bowl?" He looked around. "JACK!" He yelled at the Panther from before.
"Um..." He thought. "The Super Bowl?"
Dmitri sighed. "Can anyone ELSE give me the answer?" He asked.
Simon waited, but nobody answered. He sighed and raised his hand.
"SIMON, QUIT SHOWING OFF!"
Simon just lowered his eyelids further and put his hand back down.
The bell rang and Simon moved on to a literature class with a young dog of some kind with what looked like a permanent smile. He would talk about emotional involvement as if it were something amazing. In his Science class, a middle-aged female cat of some kind was the teacher, but she seemed to be okay. In his last class, Algebra 2, he had a female mouse for a teacher with dark fur. She seemed like she'd be a good teacher. Her opening words were, "I know you don't wanna be here, but neither do I. So just listen to what I say, and we can both get out of here."
School went on like this, and he had nothing special happen. Most of his classes were like History. He would be asked questions, and he was the only one who seemed to have any answers.
Simon and Brit got into the car with Ron, and they started home. "So, kids." Ron said. "How was your day?"
Brit started talking about all of the people she'd met, and the three boys that had asked her out, and the several clubs that had offered her a position. She talked so much, as a matter of fact, that Simon just sat in the car until they got home.
"Well, that's great, honey!" Ron said. Simon was unsure of how much he'd actually heard. "So what about you, Simon? What happened today in school?"
"I'm tired." Simon said blandly before getting out of the car. He pulled his hair out of its holders and let it fall around his face. He went into the front room of the house and walked up the stairs, past several paintings of beach scenes, and into his room. Apparently, a paranoid schizophrenic used to live there. The walls were padded, the windows had remnants of sawed-off bars, and there was even a rail attached to the wall. When Simon moved in, he'd put in his bed, three bookshelves worth of books, and a large desk with a computer and a brain in a jar of green liquid. He wasn't positive if it was fake. In one corner was his bed, and on the opposite side of the room was a small television set. Simon grabbed a book, which was a collection of short stories by Clive Barker, and started to read. After some time or another he got onto the computer for reading fanfictions and checking if any stories he'd written were seeing any activity.
5:30 rolled around, and he heard a loud, "SIMON! TIME FOR DINNER!"
He sighed. He didn't want to be near his family, but he was hungry, and Teresa usually made good food. Usually. As long as Ron didn't get near the stove with those weird concoctions of his.
Simon sat down at the dinner table, which was right next to the kitchen area by a large window, and watched the others settle in. Teresa was a snake like him, but she had deep red scales and a diamond-like pattern on her back. Apparently, his scales dark green looked like his grandfather's, though he'd never met the man or seen pictures of him. Teresa wore a dark blue business dress. She was spooning sauce onto what appeared to be spaghetti. Delicious.
Teresa worked hard hours, but she somehow managed to make time for her family. Occasionally. "So, Brit, Tell me about your day at school."
Simon swirled spaghetti onto his fork and stuffed a large amount into his mouth. That was the problem with being a snake: a constant, voracious hunger, and an urge to put food in his mouth. Gum substituted sometimes, but not often.
"...So then, they told me that I could join the pep squad, I didn't have to try out or anything, but I said, 'Hold on, I'm new here. Let me get a feel for this place first, and then I might join.' So for now, I'm just Vice President of the school's Fashion Club." Brit finished.
"That's good. Never know how much we can handle until we try. As long as you can join later." Teresa said to her daughter.
"Say, what about you, Simon?" Ron said. "You went right up to your room after school."
Simon sighed. Great. Now all eyes were on him. "Well...my history teacher hates me because I know all of the answers. And there are enough idiots in my class to keep me mildly entertained."
"Good for you!" Ron said a little too cheerfully.
"Ron!" Teresa said. "Simon, what you're father's trying to say is not to judge everyone so harshly. Give them a chance. You don't want this place to be like Juniper Hills do you?"
"I doubt there's much chance of that happening." Simon said. "Unless there's nuclear waste in the water supply here, too." He returned to eating and heard his mother sigh.
The phone rang.
"Hello. Teresa Jarvis." She said. "Yes, he's my son...uh-huh...uh-huh...look, is this going to require a conference, and if so, is it something my assistant can handle?" She asked. "Okay. I'll tell him."
She hung up. "You two took a psych exam?" Teresa asked.
"They said we wouldn't be graded!" Brit exclaimed.
"Simon," Teresa started. "They want you to take a special course, and then they'll test you again."
"YOU flunked the test!?" Brit asked with a somewhat jovial expression. Her brother the brain had never flunked anything.
"He didn't flunk anything." Teresa insisted. "It seems he has low self-esteem."
"What!?" Ron asked. "That's not right!"
"Calm down, Ron. Let me handle this." Teresa said. "Simon, we tell you all of the time what a special person you are, and you just don't get it! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!?" She yelled, slamming her fists into the table.
"I don't have low self-esteem." Simon said.
"I'll say." Ron muttered.
"I have low esteem for those around me." Simon said flatly.
------
The next day, Simon was stuck with a total of five other students in a classroom. That literature teacher with the permanent smile, Nathan O'Brien. Oh, god. Simon sat at the back of the room, listening numbly to what the soft-spoken whippet was saying.
"This class is to make us feel better about ourselves." He said as if he were included in the class. Why is it all of these feel-good idiots talked using plural words? "This class is to make you realize that you ARE special, and to help you realize your actuality." Simon raised his hand. "To make you realize just what your place is and to - -"
"Excuse me." Simon said.
"I'm sorry. Question and answer time is later."
"I wanted to know what 'realizing my actuality' is supposed to mean." Simon said.
"Uh...it means, um..." O'Brian thought. "Look...just let me get through this part, okay? Then there'll be a video!" He said with a desperate smile on his face. "Now, where was I?"
Simon scowled.
"He doesn't know what it means." Said a voice. "He has the whole speech memorized."
Simon looked subtly to his right and saw a rabbit girl with black fur. Her head-hair had been dyed a strange red color and she wore a red shirt over a black one to match the rest of her. Her blue eyes were half-lidded but amused. She wore a pair of short, black jeans that were cut off at the knee and a pair of thick boots with high-heels a lot of lagomorphs wore high heeled shoes because of their long feet.
"So how the hell am I supposed to get out of here if even he doesn't know what he's saying?" Simon said.
"I'll fill you in after class. I've taken this class at least three times now." She said. Considering she was a girl, her voice was a little low, but it was a lot better than any of the high-pitched squeaks from nearly every other girl he'd ever known.
Simon smirked.
After the class, which was pointless and just so boring that it was mildly painful, Simon and the rabbit girl walked home. They were both going down the same street to get there. The rabbit's name was Roxanne, but everyone called her Rox.
"And after the role playing, the boys and girls are separated and a female councilor comes and talks to us about body image." Rox said.
"And the guys?" Simon asked.
"A room full of guys and a male councilor talking about self-esteem?" Simon and Rox looked at each other. "Nocturnal emissions." She finished.
Simon smirked. "I do that well enough on my own. But I guess it's a healthy alternative to cocaine." He said. "But I'm not sure I get this; you know the course in and out, Rox, so why don't you pass and get the hell out of there?"
"I could pass if I wanted. But I like having low self-esteem." She smiled. "Makes me feel special." Simon smirked.
They continued walking and talking about stuff in general. Simon found out that Rox liked to act and perform. She was also an amateur ventriloquist, and made her own cloth puppets. She had an older sister named Gayla, and Simon told her that he had a sister named Brit. Neither elaborated very much.
Simon came to his house, "See you around." He and Rox said at the same time as she walked away.
Simon walked into his house and saw - "Mom?" He asked, surprised. "What are you doing home? It's not even five yet." He said to the red snake.
"I took the rest of the day off. I decided that if this low self esteem is a result of a lack of parental bond, we're going to fix it." Teresa said to her son.
"Mom, I'm in the care of professionals. Any intervention from an amateur could be detrimental." Simon said.
"Oh, come on. It'll be fun!" Teresa said enthusiastically. "We'll do whatever you want to do today."
Simon felt a sense of dread pool in his chest.
------
"What do you think of this one?" Teresa asked, coming out of a dressing booth. She wore a light green suit like the dark blue one she usually wore.
"The shade of green makes me think of spearmint and the combination of green with your red scales makes me think of Christmas." Simon said. "Festive."
"I'll change." Teresa said flatly.
Simon scowled. How the hell did he get dragged into this? First of all, he didn't want to go to a mall. Second, he didn't want to go to a clothes store - unless maybe they sold gothic clothes - and he sure as hell didn't want to be giving his mother fashion advice. Sometimes he thought that Teresa took the fact he was gay a little too far. Other than liking cock, he was the exact opposite from one of those camp drag shows you only ever saw exaggerated for comedy shows or on Coffee Talk.
"Well, what about this?" This one was a bright orange. "What do you think of when you see this?"
"Orange sherbet." Simon answered almost immediately.
"Simon, so far you haven't liked anything." Teresa pointed out. She didn't have any criticism in her voice, but she seemed to think that it held some merit.
"They're all too bright." Simon said. "They're business suits. You need something darker than that. If you like the color, get it in a blouse or something." Dear god. He was giving his mother fashion advice. Abort. Abort. ABORT!
"Mom, I'm no good at looking at people and telling them how they look." Simon lied.
"What are you talking about? You're very honest; that's why I wanted to do this with you, not your sister." Teresa said.
"Maybe. But I think she'd be better at this because it isn't excruciatingly dull to her." Simon said, standing. "As much as I love you mom, this is just torture. I'm going to go to the food court and get a pizza."
Teresa sort of half nodded. "Okay. I guess this wasn't the best idea." She laughed to herself.
"I'll see you after you're done." Simon said, starting to walk out of the clothing store, which alone should have been the entire mall. When he got near the entrance, however, he saw some sort of advertising for long-sleeved shirts. He picked at his own short-sleeved black shirt. It was the middle of September, and it would be getting brisk soon. All of his other long-sleeves were too tight.
He slowly started walking around the isles of men's clothes and found some of the racks he was looking for. As he looked through the clothing, he idly remembered when he was just a little drake and would hide in the wracks in clothing stores. He smiled subtly at the memory.
Just as he was looking at a nice, loose shirt with long black sleeves and a dark purple mid-section, he heard a loud, "Hey!" Somehow, he could tell that it was directed at him. He looked very subtly over in one direction, and saw the panther from his classes.
"Oh, god." He muttered.
"Small world, huh?" He asked in a rather chipper tone. How the hell an athletically built cat like him seemed to behave like a kitten and even have a high voice was beyond Simon.
"Only if you're in an ant farm." Simon said.
"What are you doing here?" Jack asked.
"Hmm. I'm in a clothing store. Looking at shirts. What do you think?" Simon said as if it were a great mystery.
"Well, anyway..." Jack said, still smiling somehow, "I just wanted to say 'hello.' It's kinda odd bumping into someone from school."
Simon looked around, barely moving his head as he did so. "Where's that cougar? Glen? I was starting to think you two were attached at the tail." He asked.
"Well, Glen's not good at this." Jack said. "Clothes shopping. He only comes to a place like this when I go with him to tell him what looks nice." He explained. Simon started to get the idea that Jack was the queen in the relationship. "I'm here with my friend. HEY, MARK!" He shouted. Simon flinched.
As the large body came into view, Simon had to admit that he was stunned. Mark was a black horse of all things, with a HUGE body. His muscles were gigantic, and he was at least a head taller than Simon was. This was extremely odd for the snake, who hadn't had to look up at anyone for years. The horse was wearing a white top that obviously was meant to hold his body tightly and show off his huge body. His pants were jeans, but clung to his waist showing off his very nice ass. Something Simon hadn't seen on a horse before was the long white hair on his wrists that surrounded his hands.
"This is Mark. Mark, Simon." Jack said, smiling brightly.
"Hey." Simon said, trying his hardest not to stare and failing.
The horse just nodded.
"I need to go." Simon said, feeling his loins flare up. "I'm meeting my mother at the food court after she's done with her own shopping."
"See you at school, then." Jack said as Simon walked off. "Odd guy." Jack said to Mark. "But he seems okay."
Mark just continued to watch, entranced, as the snake left, practically gliding over the polished marble floor of the mall. He opened his mouth and spoke with a deep, rumbling voice.
"He's beautiful."
------
Simon sat at the dinner table as a plate with roasted potatoes, carrots, and roast beef was placed in front of him. More good food.
"So, how's that class going, Simon?" Ron asked.
Simon squirted ketchup onto his food - including the vegetables - and answered without looking at him. "My teacher says that we should try to reflect on a time in our childhoods that brought us happiness and recreate it." He looked at his sister. "But I guess Brit's here to stay."
"What's that supposed to mean?" the vixen exclaimed, hands on her hips.
"Simon, seriously," Teresa started, ignoring her daughter's outburst. "What's happened in your class so far?"
Simon looked at his food as he swallowed a mouthful of roast. "Well, I met someone who I think is on the same wavelength as me." Simon said.
"So he's a weirdo brain too?" Brit asked.
"Brit." Teresa said in a scolding tone.
"Actually, he's a 'she.'" Simon said. "She's a rabbit. Everyone calls her Rox. She's a ventriloquist." He said. Why was he telling them this again?
"That's great, Simon!" Teresa exclaimed, happy that her son had made any sort of friend.
"And she's convinced me to go off and become a renegade biker who sells illegal substances." Simon said.
"Alright, just be sure to call home on Sundays." Ron said, getting back to his own food. Sometimes Simon wondered just what was between his dad's ears.
After a while of conversation that he was mercifully omitted from, Simon excused himself from the dinner table and went back into his room, locking the door. It was the middle of the night, and he was a teenage boy. What did you think he was going to do?
He opened up some triple-password-protected files of his online and found some free clips that were supposed to be teasers. He'd downloaded them and scanned them with five different virus protection softwares. What was he in the mood for? Fisting? BDSM? Just plain stuff? He looked around what he had, and knew which of his clip collections he wanted.
'Horse Breeding'
This one had several pictures and clips that went on for about 3 minutes apiece of horses getting all kinds of things shoved up their assholes, and then having their partner for the clip fuck them until they came in their asses. You know how everyone usually focuses on one part of the body sexually? Like a paw fetish for instance? Simon had an anal fixation; he liked other guys' butts more than anything else on them.
Simon watched, hypnotized, as a muscled, black horse with a long mane on the screen had a dildo the size of a baseball bat rhythmically pulled in and out of his asshole. The one doing the job was a lynx that was surprisingly thin. The horse whinnied and neighed loudly, exclaiming in his own feral tongue. Of course, he also exclaimed "FUCK ME!" and other variations throughout.
Simon closed the window, and climbed into his bed, stripping off his clothes. He looked down at himself and his thin, gaunt body and the lighter green scales that ran down his torso and belly. He climbed onto the bed, and lightly fingered at his rigid, slightly ruffled cock. He teased himself a bit before grabbing himself so firmly it almost hurt. He jacked hard, thrusting into his hand, wanting to get over his guilty pleasure quickly.
Images of several males being dominated and fucked by seemingly impossibly large objects flashed in his mind. Then the horse from earlier that day appeared in his mind, and he instantly climaxed. His semen shot from his phallus, spreading all over his still-moving hand. All of his muscles, which were formerly rigid with pleasure, immediately lost their mobility as they let go. His red cock softened and receded into the slit he had, as most reptiles did.
His climax hazed through his mind, and he looked down at his dirtied hand. He wiped it off with the bedsheets. He didn't want a crust forming on himself from the dry splooge. He lay back, and panted lightly. His head lolled off, and looked at the television. Although he was tired from this physical exertion, he didn't feel sleepy. He grabbed the television remote and turned it on.
------
The huge horse had researched nude reptiles, and it was very difficult to find a snake with the same body type as the one he'd met today. He reached into the box he'd pulled out, and got his new favorite toy: a reptilian dildo. This one was surprisingly rigid and ruffled and was a total of 7 inches in length.
Squirting his lightly scented lubricant onto his toy, the horse eased it inside of himself. He'd been doing this since he was thirteen and, though he'd never had sex before, his ass was definitely not a virgin to penetration.
He slowly eased the red and black dildo into his anus, feeling it slide in easily. This one was designed to do that, but then it got thicker and thicker. He eased it into himself, slowly to enjoy the feeling of being stretched. His own equine cock was completely hard now, but he tried hard not to touch himself.
"Oh, god..." He huffed, imagining the snake that he'd become fascinated by on top of him, thrusting hard into his own body. "Please..." He begged his imaginary partner, "Fuck me harder...take me..." To make this fantasy complete, he started thrusting the toy into his own anus at a faster, harder, nearly merciless speed. He panted and yelled, his voice becoming one cacophony of pleasure, all the while picturing that damn snake in his mind.
Finally, the blood had made it just too much to bear on his own cock; he grabbed it, and jerked hard in time with his thrusts into his own asshole. He climaxed, neighing loudly, letting copious amounts of his own splooge coat his chest and hand. With one final buck, he completely gave in and let his body let go. He tiredly pulled the dildo out of his anus, and left it next to his side on the bed.
God...that had been the best time Mark had ever had in his life. 'And maybe someday,' He thought as he numbly shoved himself under the sheets, 'Simon and I can make it a reality.'