Everyone remember the 1987 movie "Can't Buy Me Love"?
In case you don't, here's a good summary:
http://briansworld.fcac.org/cbml/csum.html
But what if Ronnie were the sort of person who hung out at TMF? (OK, There was no TMF in 1987, I know)
Maybe things would have gone something like this ..
*******************
"Can't Buy Me ..."
The car pulled up in front of a shabby house adjoining the university. It was dark, but not too late; it was winter, after all.
A teenage boy got out of the driver's side. A teenage girl got out of the passenger's side. Both were carrying gym bags.
The girl shivered, although it wasn't very cold in southern Arizona.
"Whose place is this?" asked the girl, looking around then back again at the house.
"It belongs to a friend of mine," said the boy. "He's a grad student. Away for a week."
The boy started walking toward the front door. The girl hesitated.
"C'mon," said the boy. "You want the money, don't you?"
The girl followed.
-------------------
Cindy Mancini wondered how she'd ever gotten into this. She'd worn the suede outfit her mother had absolutely forbidden her to wear and ruined it. Ronnie Miller had shown up as she futilely tried to return it and offered to pay for it if she ...
Well, she'd rather not think about that.
Ronnie Miller was such a nerd, but he'd saved well over a thousand dollars earned by mowing lawns over the summer. No-one payed Cindy to be head cheerleader or the-most-popular-girl-in-the-school. The suede outfit cost $1000.
And now she was at his mercy. Basically.
---------------------
Inside, it looked like Ronnie's friend lived in his front room. There was a desk, an eating table, a bed, some chairs, some well-stocked bookcases, plenty of books lying around, and some telescopes. Ronnie had been saving his money to buy a telescope.
"You can change in here," said Ronnie, motioning toward the bathroom as he sat down in a chair. He had a satisfied smile on his face.
Cindy went into the bathroom and opened her gym bag. She had her cheerleader outfit inside. Not the one for football games, the one used in cheerleading competitions. Ronnie had specified that.
She quickly changed out of her jeans and sweatshirt and stared in the mirror. Every teenage boy's dream, the cheerleader. A blonde cheerleader. Unattainable, especially for someone like Ronnie.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and went back into the front room.
-----------------------
Ronnie looked her over as she came back into the room.
"Perfect," he said, more to himself than Cindy.
Cindy sat down in a chair and put her arms behind her back.
"Like this?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"No, lay on the bed," said Ronnie.
"Look, Ronnie, I agreed to your kinky bondage thing, but remember what we agreed. No sex."
"I won't. And no slapping or hitting. Scout's honor," said Ronnie.
Cindy couldn't believe he'd said that.
"Really. I was a Boy Scout," he said.
"Yeah, I'm sure," said Cindy, laying on the bed, still looking scared.
"Nothing to it,"said Ronnie, pulling some leather straps from his own gym bag. "Raise your arms."
She did. Ronnie quickly snapped a leather restraint around one of her wrists and then the the metal bedpost. Then her other wrist.
"Is that it?" she asked, hoping.
"Nope," said Ronnie, proceeding to the other end of the bed. Two more restraints bound her ankles to the metal posts at that end. Now she was in a spread-eagle position.
It felt so innocent and simple, especially since she had envisioned being tightly tied to a chair with ropes when Ronnie had said "bondage." But she really was helpless. She tried not to panic as Ronnie stepped back to admire his handiwork, grinning to himself.
"So, Cindy, how goes it?" he said, smiling as if at some private joke.
"Ummm, I'm OK," she said. Maybe he just wanted to talk to a helpless cheerleader. She hoped.
"Nice outfit," said Ronnie, looking her up and down.
"Thanks," she said, playing along, though her voice was still shaking.
"What do they call this thing?" he said.
"What?" she said, not sure what he meant.
"Well, at the football games, you wear a sweater with your outfit. This sleeveless thing."
"It's called a shell," she said.
"Hmmm," said Ronnie. "I suppose that's because you compete indoors and don't need a sweater like you do outdoors. Is that why?"
Cindy wasn't really sure why. And why did Ronnie care?
"Yeah, I guess that's it," she said.
"It doesn't even cover your belly-button," said Ronnie, still talking half to himself, half to her.
Actually, with her arms stretched over her head, it exposed several inches of her ribcage. Did Ronnie had a belly-button fetish or something, she wondered.
She closed her eyes, tried to think of what Ronnie might do and how she might talk herself out of this situation with the $1000.
She felt something in her belly-button. Ronnie's finger. She gasped involuntarily and stifled a laugh.
"Ticklish, Cindy?" said Ronnie.
Cindy opened her eyes. Ronnie's grin was bigger than ever. She felt fear in her stomach.
"Um, a little, I guess, isn't everyone?" she stammered, trying to think of what to say.
"I suppose," said Ronnie.
Cindy's eyes grew large as Ronnie reached an index finger toward her belly button again. She braced herself as he wiggled his finger. She held her breath.
"BWAAAH HAHAHAHA!" she laughed, losing control.
"I think you're more than a little ticklish," said Ronnie, grinning with pleasure.
"Ronnie, no! You can't do this ..." pleaded Cindy.
Ronnie lightly attacked her ribs with both hands.
"NOOOOO! HAHAHAHA!" Cindy screamed, her head thrown back, pulling at the unmoving restraints.
"Oh, yeah," said Ronnie to himself. "This is going to be fun ..."
In case you don't, here's a good summary:
http://briansworld.fcac.org/cbml/csum.html
But what if Ronnie were the sort of person who hung out at TMF? (OK, There was no TMF in 1987, I know)
Maybe things would have gone something like this ..
*******************
"Can't Buy Me ..."
The car pulled up in front of a shabby house adjoining the university. It was dark, but not too late; it was winter, after all.
A teenage boy got out of the driver's side. A teenage girl got out of the passenger's side. Both were carrying gym bags.
The girl shivered, although it wasn't very cold in southern Arizona.
"Whose place is this?" asked the girl, looking around then back again at the house.
"It belongs to a friend of mine," said the boy. "He's a grad student. Away for a week."
The boy started walking toward the front door. The girl hesitated.
"C'mon," said the boy. "You want the money, don't you?"
The girl followed.
-------------------
Cindy Mancini wondered how she'd ever gotten into this. She'd worn the suede outfit her mother had absolutely forbidden her to wear and ruined it. Ronnie Miller had shown up as she futilely tried to return it and offered to pay for it if she ...
Well, she'd rather not think about that.
Ronnie Miller was such a nerd, but he'd saved well over a thousand dollars earned by mowing lawns over the summer. No-one payed Cindy to be head cheerleader or the-most-popular-girl-in-the-school. The suede outfit cost $1000.
And now she was at his mercy. Basically.
---------------------
Inside, it looked like Ronnie's friend lived in his front room. There was a desk, an eating table, a bed, some chairs, some well-stocked bookcases, plenty of books lying around, and some telescopes. Ronnie had been saving his money to buy a telescope.
"You can change in here," said Ronnie, motioning toward the bathroom as he sat down in a chair. He had a satisfied smile on his face.
Cindy went into the bathroom and opened her gym bag. She had her cheerleader outfit inside. Not the one for football games, the one used in cheerleading competitions. Ronnie had specified that.
She quickly changed out of her jeans and sweatshirt and stared in the mirror. Every teenage boy's dream, the cheerleader. A blonde cheerleader. Unattainable, especially for someone like Ronnie.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and went back into the front room.
-----------------------
Ronnie looked her over as she came back into the room.
"Perfect," he said, more to himself than Cindy.
Cindy sat down in a chair and put her arms behind her back.
"Like this?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"No, lay on the bed," said Ronnie.
"Look, Ronnie, I agreed to your kinky bondage thing, but remember what we agreed. No sex."
"I won't. And no slapping or hitting. Scout's honor," said Ronnie.
Cindy couldn't believe he'd said that.
"Really. I was a Boy Scout," he said.
"Yeah, I'm sure," said Cindy, laying on the bed, still looking scared.
"Nothing to it,"said Ronnie, pulling some leather straps from his own gym bag. "Raise your arms."
She did. Ronnie quickly snapped a leather restraint around one of her wrists and then the the metal bedpost. Then her other wrist.
"Is that it?" she asked, hoping.
"Nope," said Ronnie, proceeding to the other end of the bed. Two more restraints bound her ankles to the metal posts at that end. Now she was in a spread-eagle position.
It felt so innocent and simple, especially since she had envisioned being tightly tied to a chair with ropes when Ronnie had said "bondage." But she really was helpless. She tried not to panic as Ronnie stepped back to admire his handiwork, grinning to himself.
"So, Cindy, how goes it?" he said, smiling as if at some private joke.
"Ummm, I'm OK," she said. Maybe he just wanted to talk to a helpless cheerleader. She hoped.
"Nice outfit," said Ronnie, looking her up and down.
"Thanks," she said, playing along, though her voice was still shaking.
"What do they call this thing?" he said.
"What?" she said, not sure what he meant.
"Well, at the football games, you wear a sweater with your outfit. This sleeveless thing."
"It's called a shell," she said.
"Hmmm," said Ronnie. "I suppose that's because you compete indoors and don't need a sweater like you do outdoors. Is that why?"
Cindy wasn't really sure why. And why did Ronnie care?
"Yeah, I guess that's it," she said.
"It doesn't even cover your belly-button," said Ronnie, still talking half to himself, half to her.
Actually, with her arms stretched over her head, it exposed several inches of her ribcage. Did Ronnie had a belly-button fetish or something, she wondered.
She closed her eyes, tried to think of what Ronnie might do and how she might talk herself out of this situation with the $1000.
She felt something in her belly-button. Ronnie's finger. She gasped involuntarily and stifled a laugh.
"Ticklish, Cindy?" said Ronnie.
Cindy opened her eyes. Ronnie's grin was bigger than ever. She felt fear in her stomach.
"Um, a little, I guess, isn't everyone?" she stammered, trying to think of what to say.
"I suppose," said Ronnie.
Cindy's eyes grew large as Ronnie reached an index finger toward her belly button again. She braced herself as he wiggled his finger. She held her breath.
"BWAAAH HAHAHAHA!" she laughed, losing control.
"I think you're more than a little ticklish," said Ronnie, grinning with pleasure.
"Ronnie, no! You can't do this ..." pleaded Cindy.
Ronnie lightly attacked her ribs with both hands.
"NOOOOO! HAHAHAHA!" Cindy screamed, her head thrown back, pulling at the unmoving restraints.
"Oh, yeah," said Ronnie to himself. "This is going to be fun ..."
