Foster's Home & The Winking Eye | By : Wendell Urth Category: -Misc Cartoons > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2028 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story. Adults only! I do not condone sex with children. |
Chapter 3: Where The Winking Eye Tells All.
That night at dinner:
No one said anything about Bloo’s absence. For some reason whenever there was a giant, tough new friend around, Bloo went out of his way to antagonize the monster and then spent days hiding so he wouldn’t get “kilt” or “murdered”. He’d sneak food (against the rules) until Mr. Harriman stepped in. Eventually things would get settled with a minimum of murder and violence. For now, everyone could eat in peace.
Except…
Frankie knew something must be up almost immediately. Mac was sitting next to Goo further down the big dining room table, instead of next to her. He seemed unable to look Frankie in the face, which in itself was strange. She knew about his crush and thought it “cute.” He was always secretly turning to look at her and not get caught. She encouraged it. It was a game. But tonight, Mac wasn’t playing.
“Is he mad at me for some reason?” She tried to think. Actually, she hadn’t seen him or Goo since early morning when she let them in and warned them that today was washing day, so she couldn’t play. And what were they wearing, come to think of it? Mac had extra clothes in the Home, but it was still unusual for him to change for dinner. And was Goo wearing his clothes too? They sooo didn’t fit the tall, skinny girl. Mac was short and sturdy. Not fat, but blocky. Actually, he was becoming kind of muscular Frankie realized. In a few years…
And they were so dirty under the clean clothes that Madame Foster sent them from the table to wash up… twice!
Then Frankie thought, “Are they holding hands under the table? Wow, I am so going to get to the bottom of this… will be great to tease them with. Little Mac and Goo, boyfriend and girlfriend!”
“And what was that hat she was wearing?” Frankie had seen it somewhere before. “When?” she wondered. Was the eye was winking at her.
Before she left that night, when they were alone and there were no prying eyes (real or imaginary). Goo kissed Mac on the cheek, then the lips and said, “Remember, from now on you’re my boyfriend. Mine… not hers!” She said it slowly. Very slowly. Mac had no doubt who Goo meant by “Hers” … but even so. “Boyfriend?”
“YeahYoureABoyAndYoureMyFriendThatEqualsBoyfriend. Duh!”
“Im not sure it works like that.”
She looked at him. Hard. “RememberWhatYouDidBOYFRIEND?!”
“Yeah” Mac smiled, but he was remembering what “they” did. “Maybe being a boyfriend wasn’t so bad if they could do that kind of stuff again.”
That night Frankie dreamed and remembered. The eye had been called The POV, The Point Of View. She hadn’t seen it since she was a kid. It wasn’t actually a friend; it was a device of some sort. It would embed itself in an article of clothing. It watched. It remembered. It could show you what the person wearing it had seen. But also, what everyone else saw who was in the area at the same time.
It was eventually banned from the house. People like to remember things a certain way, but The POV showed you your memories were not the same as the truth. It showed you how other people saw things and how they saw you. It never lied! It couldn’t be edited to highlight or distort. It only showed the absolute truth! When it was around, eventually fights broke out.
People remember things they don’t really see. You never really see what you really look or how you act during a situation. Your memory plays tricks. The POV shows you what you really look like, what you really did. How others really see you.
It was a bad piece of mojo. Fortunately, you had to know a little trick of the eye to get it to reveal the Point Of View.
She made a mental note to find the pirate hat and get rid of the eye… tomorrow.
The next day, Frankie mostly forgot about it until after lunch. This was her weekly half day off, free from Grandmothers and rabbits and most minor emergencies. She had planned to do some shopping with friends, but they had called in with excuses. It was raining, she was nearly broke anyway, so she decided to curl up with one of her trashy books. Who knows, she might later decide to take another ride on her latest love… The “Terminator” was the nickname of the vibrator she had recently purchased (that’s why she was broke!). Two days in a row, was it becoming an obsession? A good one, maybe. It had rocked her world during her break yesterday.
Then she remembered The POV, it was in dirty laundry basket with Goo’s discarded clothing. “Good thing I found it before the washer. The POV might not like soap in its eye!” She took it back to her room.
She spun the eye back. Two children crawling through the abandoned pipes.
“Don’t they know how dangerous it is to crawl through those pipes? Of course, they do… that’s why the snuck in there!” She laughed at their soot stained faces. “Poor guys, they look like lost little mice... ” She had crawled through some of those pipes when she was their age.
She spun the eye forward. Then came…
Shock
Disgust
Anger
They had betrayed her at the deepest level. Naked, alone, vulnerable and they had the nerve to spy on her, spy on her doing something so nasty, so personal, so private. She didn’t know whether she should spit or scream. She hated Mac. She despised Goo for what they had done to her. What they had seen…
Bitter embarrassment. How could she ever face them, knowing that they had seen her like this? Naked, lustful. A sexual animal. She’d have them banned from the house, forever! (“But how, I’d have to tell everybody why?!?”) Then, “No, I can’t do that, must keep it a secret from everyone else. Grandma, the Friends. But they’ll find out. They’ll hate me, laugh at me. God, I hate Mac. I hate Goo!”
She wanted to kill herself.
Not sure about anything else yet, she’d make sure no one would ever do this to her again. She saw the pipes, the vents and the remains of the old heating system every day of her life and never thought about it. Some of it was blocked off, some of it was still in use by the newer systems. But no one would ever spy on her again. She never looked at the vent in her room, just like she never saw the peeling paint or cracks on the wall. It was just there... She got her roll of duct tape out of her closet and stood on a chair. She couldn’t remove the vent without pulling the entire wall apart, but she could cover it.
She could.
The eye spun again.
At first it was like having a mirror on the ceiling. Frankie wasn’t enough of a hedonist to want such a thing. She was ashamed of her body. Oh, she could look good in the right dress, makeup & jewelry. Heels. But that was a disguise. Skinny, short legs and arms. That’s why her few real sexual experiences were always in the dark. Her body was shameful! No makeup, wild sweaty hair. Stubbled armpits. Fucking herself like she was insane. Ugly. Ugly.
That is how she saw herself, her Point Of View.
“OMG! Mac! What must he think of me?” Shame. Horror. “He must think I’m some sort of crazy whore. And Goo?”
She saw herself as Goo saw her. Jealousy. Frankie was a woman, confident in herself, understanding her own sexuality. Goo was stumbling towards womanhood. Fearful. Alone. Frankie was beautiful to her, so beautiful in her sexual appetites. Goo’s anger was a reflection of the love she felt for Mac. Jealous that Mac loved Frankie. And sad that he might not love Goo as much. She saw Frankie and it hurt. It hurt because she also loved Frankie. She wanted to be Frankie… and she couldn’t.
And Mac? Dear Mac clearly didn’t understand what Frankie was doing, but he wanted to. He saw her through his love and lust. She was the most beautiful thing in his life. She was perfect, even as she thrust a tremendous pink vibrator into herself. She was beautiful and she was the sum of all things that were good.
Frankie saw herself. Lonely, growing older without the love she so needed, deserved.
She saw the truth. She was as beautiful as she chose to be, even during the throes of wild sex.
The eye spun back a few minutes.
She saw herself standing on the ladder, trying to find the end of the roll of duct tape.
She wasn’t angry at Goo. She didn’t hate her. That wasn’t the truth. She loved Goo.
She wasn’t angry at Mac. She didn’t hate him. That was the truth. She loved Mac.
She was angry at herself. She hated herself. She had revealed the ugliness of herself to two of the only people in the world she truly loved. And was afraid that they would hate her, now knowing what she was.
The eye spun again.
She watched Mac masturbate in the pipes. He thought it was ugly, shameful. He hated himself because Frankie and Goo would see him for what he was. He was a nasty animal. He didn’t deserve to be loved by the two most important people in his life (after his mom).
She watched Goo, leaning forward, waiting for Mac to cum. There was no surprise, no shock. She wanted Mac to cum in her face. Wanted to experience it, wanted to share it with him. Goo thought it was beautiful
Frankie did too. Two children stumbling towards adulthood. Sharing & discovering sex.
The eye spun forward.
Frankie saw the children in the bathroom. Goo was ashamed of herself as she raped Mac’s face. The truth was there could be no rape when the boy was so willing to experience it with her.
Frankie loved Goo’s confidence. She loved Mac’s acceptance.
The eye spun one last time and showed her the truth:
She loved knowing now that she had been watched. She loved knowing that it excited Mac to masturbate and for Goo to discover her love of his cumming. She liked knowing that her lonely orgasm had really been shared by the two people she loved.
She loved knowing that she had inspired them to fuck each other in the bathroom. To find themeselves
The unused roll of duct tape fell from her hands, as she planned her next move.
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