Affurmation Chapter 5: Tuning Up
#5 of Affurmation Arc
Taylor gasped as Wyatt's strong arms forced him against the wall of his bedroom. The silvery light of the moon gleamed off their fur in the darkness. Heart thumping erratically in his chest, the red panda felt powerless in the commanding vice-grip of the mongoose.
"I... I d-don't want this!" Taylor protested, trying desperately not to stare into the bewitchingly crimson eyes of the mongoose. "Let go of me!"
Wyatt's mouth parted into an impish sneer, though it was only a flicker, for he kept his emotions well-hidden. He was in control, radiating a powerful aura of dominance and command. Holding both of Taylor's wrists together above the panda's head, with his other hand he grabbed the boy just below the chin, forcing the other to look at him.
"I'll do what I please with you," Wyatt growled, his voice low, husky, and full of wanting. "How could you protest so much when you're like this down here..."
His off-hand snaked slowly and sensually down the panda's body, caressing the boy's chest and abdomen with such delicate finesse that Taylor went weak in the knees. His fingers passed over the waistband of the girl's panties that barely managed to obscure the panda's aching package which throbbed against the velvety pink material of the undergarments.
"You say you don't want it... but this says otherwise..."
"No! It... it's not... that's b-because..."
The mongoose positioned his thumb and forefinger on each side of the bulge in Taylor's panties and began to stroke the boy's genitals slowly through the thin fabric that contained them. Struggling was useless. Wyatt was surprisingly strong for a boy so androgynous and slight.
"Admit that you like this, Taylor. Admit to me that you're a little slut that dresses in girls' clothing and is aching to be fucked."
"No! I won't!"
A loud thwack echoed throughout the room. Taylor's mouth hung open, shocked by the alacrity and power of the slap that caused his cheek to burn.
"Admit it!"
"Never!" The panda resisted, squeezing his eyes shut.
Wyatt ran his fingers into the panda's hair, made a fist, and gave the boy's head a dutiful yank. Taylor yelped and hot tears of humiliation and lust began to fall from his eyes.
"Admit it to me, you little crossdressing whore..."
"I... I... I..."
The red panda rose sharply in bed, his heart still pounding in his chest like a battle drum. His breath was heavy and hot, his fingers still curled around his bed sheets. It took a moment for the reality of morning to settle in. A dream, he thought to himself. Just a dream... Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Taylor looked at the clock. He stretched and yawned, then pulled the blankets aside. Disregarding his towering erection, Taylor grabbed a towel and headed into the shower.
It was bad enough that the lead singer of the band he had just joined was in command of his thoughts during the day, but now somehow Wyatt had invaded the young panda's dreams as well. While he soaped himself down, Taylor thought about the events of the previous day. When he had first encountered the mongoose at the bus stop, the boy had seemed nothing short of angelic. His hair, the color of winter wheat, was perfectly styled and textured and framed his face flawlessly. His eyes, perhaps his most unique attribute, were the color of sanguine sorcery, fitting because they seemed to sparkle with untapped magic and clarity of vision. There was a perplexing mystery about Wyatt. On the one hand, he radiated maturity, experience, and wisdom. On the other, he could also be moody, ill-tempered, and quick to judge. The contradiction, Taylor was sure, ran much deeper than any surface examination could unearth; Wyatt's true nature would take time to understand, like most things.
Taylor dried himself off and walked into his closet. He walked to the back of the closet and pushed aside some jackets and long-sleeve shirts to where he had stashed his girls clothing which he dutifully kept secret from his parents. Crossdressing was not something Taylor himself understood. He didn't know why it excited him, why he felt his heart begin to beat faster every time he put on a halter top, or why he felt more comfortable in a skirt than in trousers. The panda had never considered himself to be homosexual-in fact, he did find girls quite attractive. In days of old, Gretchen herself had been the apple of his mind's eye. Perhaps it was due to the fact that physically, Taylor was far from masculine, and where he failed to charm as a male, he succeeded in drawing substantially more attention as a female. Taylor didn't like to dwell on the matter much, he simply did it as though it was routine, something he knew he had to do regardless of the reasons behind it.
He was in generally high spirits, and chose bright colored clothing. He selected a pair of bikini-style panties, sunflower yellow with cute little light-green pairs dappled across it. He bent down and slipped each of his legs through the holes, one after the other before pulling them up into his crotch. The panda ran his fingers along the waistband to fix the twists in the material. He then donned a long-sleeved yellow and pink stripped shirt over which he added a robin's egg blue tank top with a strawberry ice cream cone design on the front. Thigh high stockings, also yellow and pink striped were then added to compliment the shirt. A pair of very revealing shorts and a smattering of wrist accessories completed the ensemble. Once he was satisfied with his choice of clothing, Taylor put his guitar, a black, flamed maple ESP, into his gig bag, grabbed his knapsack, and headed downstairs.
On the kitchen table, Taylor found his lunchbox already packed beside which a croissant and a juice box had been placed atop a handwritten note. Curiously, the panda inspected the letter.
Taylor,
Your father and I left for work early this morning. We hope your first day at school went well yesterday. We will both be working late again, but there's dinner in the refrigerator that you can reheat. I packed you a lunch just in case you were tired and slept late.
We love you very much.
Taylor smiled at the gesture of kindness. He added the croissant to the lunchbox then slung it over his shoulder and headed out toward the bus stop. While he sipped from the orange juice carton, he again started thinking about Affurmation. For a high school band, it sounded remarkably polished and professional. Each of the members doubtlessly worked tirelessly to perfect their instrument. These were not slackers or hobbyists. These were individuals who pursued music as a life passion. This fact alone made the panda feel very ill-at-ease and out of place. He wondered why they had approved his application as a guitarist. Surely there were others they could have chosen who were more skilled and qualified than he.
Music had saved Taylor from the dark and painful world of despair and hopelessness. When he'd discovered Darkchild, a visual kei band heralding from the very city in which he now lived, his life had been transformed, given purpose. The lead guitarist, Talis, a very petite ferret, was a brilliant musician with whom Taylor felt an unusual kinship. Talis often wore elaborate costumes that were highly feminine, including skirts, dresses, hot pants, stockings, and corsets. And he was not afraid to do so during live performances and interviews. Taylor envied Talis' fearlessness and self-awareness. The panda had a long ways to go before he achieved the level of charisma and skill Talis possessed.
All day at school, Taylor drifted in and out of daydreams about his new band and Wyatt. He couldn't focus on his studies. He felt hyper and impatient during every class. He began to doodle in his notebooks, sketching crude pictures of Wyatt singing with a microphone. At one point, Gretchen caught sight of what he was working on.
"Is that Wyatt?" she whispered in the middle of history class.
Taylor flushed red. "H...hey! Don't spy on me."
"It's a good drawing though. It looks just like him."
"I wonder what lunch is going to be today," Taylor said, trying horribly to change the subject.
"The hell with lunch, I can't wait to see what you and the band work on today."
"You're going to come to the practice again?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
"B...because I mean... well... won't you be bored?" the panda stammered, trying to find an excuse to prevent his new chaperone and old friend from witnessing his poor musical abilities and trepidation during the band's first practice.
"Bored? Bored watching a bunch of hot guys play music? You're kidding, right?"
"But we won't really be playing music, it's just a practice."
"So what? I think it's awesome to see how music comes together during the learning process, don't you?"
"We might not play very much. We might just talk about band stuff."
"I can just do homework while I wait for you." She had a perfect rebuttal for every argument. "Besides, hot guys are hot guys. Especially that Wyatt dude."
"Hey! Wyatt is-" Taylor hissed before checking himself. "He... I think he has a girlfriend."
Gretchen frowned. "The best ones are always taken, aren't they?"
"Yeah," Taylor muttered under his breath. "I think that Jasper guy kinda liked you though."
"He's pretty hot too, I guess," the Siamese cat purred softly. "Even the drummer was cute. Did you see the muscles in his arms?"
Taylor nodded. "You've got to be strong to be a good drummer."
"I'd imagine so," the other said. "So tell me something."
"What?"
"Why are you drawing Wyatt in your notebook? You got the hots for him or something?"
"God, no!" Taylor retorted. "He's a boy anyway!"
Gretchen shrugged. "Yeah... and?"
Taylor slumped down in his seat. "I... I'm not like that, Gretchen..."
"I wouldn't care if you were."
"I'm not."
"Ok."
There was a long silence between them while the professor droned on, unaware of their conversation, too absorbed in his own didactic sermon.
"Because if you were that would be cool with me," the feline giggled.
"Give it a rest, Gretch!"
"Heh, ok," the other laughed.
After classes, Taylor and Gretchen head down to the band room. They could hear music before they even reached the doorway. They opened the door and the music flooded out into the hallway.
The music was heavy, raunchy, and loud. Jasper cranked out a low thumping beat from a full bass amp stack. The speakers in the cabinet rattled. The drummer Drew was a beast at the double bass pedal. Wyatt had his guitar around his neck and was mid-solo. His fingers glided almost effortlessly along the neck while he played the lead riff from one of Darkchild's most popular songs, Three Kings. The golden light that came through the windows seemed to engulf him and make him glow. Suddenly, he stopped playing and waved to the others to stop.
"Jasp, you gotta make that sound grungier. Turn your mid down and your low up."
"Sure man," the wolf replied walking over to his amp.
"Drew... dude... for the last time man... tighten up the blast beat or it sounds like shit. It's sloppy and I know you can do it better."
"I'll try."
"Don't try man, just fix it."
"You're the boss."
"I still can't nail this solo. Fuck. My sweep picking isn't good enough."
"If you'd like, I can show you an easier way to do it," Taylor said softly. All three band members stared at him. Taylor felt his cheeks burn. "Well I mean I'm sure I can't play it better but-"
"No, no, if you think you can play the Three Kings solo better than I can, knock your socks off, panda boy."
"What kind of guitar do you have?" Jasper asked.
"ESP. It's the Talis signature model."
"Wow, that's an expensive piece of hardware. Well, just plug in and show us what you got. Hello there, beautiful," he added, addressing Gretchen.
Wyatt rolled his eyes and went to sit on one of the amplifiers, lighting a cigarette. Taylor procured his guitar from the bag and plugged it into Wyatt's amp.
"Two bar lead-in," Jasper said.
"Ok," the red panda nodded.
They began to play. Right on cue, and without any warm-up, Taylor slid his finger from the fourth fret to the sixteenth, wrenching out a quick vibrato before executing the two-handed finger-tapping section to perfection. He sweep-picked descending arpeggios from A minor to G, then to F and crooked his finger and sounded a pinched harmonic squeal. The band stopped playing, but Taylor played the next two bars, lost in the feeling of the music, before realizing they had ceased performing.
"W...what? Did I play something wrong?"
"Actually..." Jasper looked at Wyatt. "You played it perfectly. I've never heard anyone do it that well. Besides Talis obviously."
"Really? Thanks so much!" Taylor beamed excitedly.
Wyatt stamped out his cigarette in the ash tray beside him. "It's great that you can play a solo from someone else's song," he started, "but writing your own material is something completely different. Do you compose anything?"
"Y...yeah. I mean, occasionally. I'm not very good yet."
"Can you improvise?"
"Somewhat, yeah."
The mongoose walked over to the panda and handed him a faded black book with a ripped cover. On the front, the band's name had been hand-written. There were many bookmarks and dog-eared pages.
"What is this?"
"Our songbook. It's got all of our original material and ideas we haven't completed yet. I want you to look through this and pick one of the unfinished songs. When you come back tomorrow, I need a solo written for one of them."
"You want me to write a solo in a single day?" Taylor blurted.
"It was never a problem for me."
"C'mon, Wyatt, give the kid a break," Jasper said.
"This band has a reputation to live up to," the mongoose countered. "If this kid is gonna be a part of this, he has to learn to work hard and produce results no matter how impossible."
The wolf snorted. "You're starting to sound like Van."
Wyatt's eyes flared. "Keep your muzzle out of this, Jasper! This has nothing to do with him."
"Whatever you say chief."
"I'm taking a break. You show him the book."
Wyatt left the practice room wordlessly. Gretchen watched him storm off. "What's his problem?"
"It's a long story," Jasper said. "And it's personal. Taylor, put your guitar down, and I'll tell you what Affurmation is all about."