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Simon Learns to do Oral [Screenplay version] The scene is the apartment lounge of Gwenda Winstanley, at the Holland Park end of Kensington High Street. This is an extremely good address and the flat is furnished accordingly. Gwenda herself is fashionably and expensively dressed. When the scene opens Gwenda is opening the door to a friend, Lorna Robertson. Lorna, too, is beautifully dressed and coiffured, the best that London’s West End can provide. Both women look as hard as nails. Lorna. Gwenda darling, how lovely to see you. I was passing and simply had to drop in. You must tell me all the gossip. What have you been up to lately? Gwenda. Certainly I will. But first things first. Have a drink. Martini? Lorna. That would be lovely. I’m so thirsty - could I have it in a tall glass with lots of ice? Gwenda. Of course, darling. (She goes to drinks trolley and fixes a highball for Lorna and a martini for herself). Now, tell me everything. How’s Robert? Lorna. Robert’s doing extremely well. You knew he was a Lloyds Name, of course. Well, he escaped most of the trouble a few years back, when so many nice people went down - and since then he’s been earning large fees from directorships in this and that. Hard up we are not! But our main news – the exciting news - is that we’ve decided to have Barney neutered. Now that Felicity has started her periods, it seemed much the best thing. I couldn’t risk Barney trying anything. Gwenda. Barney’s the little boy you adopted, isn’t he, the one from Nigeria? Lorna. Yes. He’s just gone ten. But you’d think he was a lot older with his clothes off, because his boy-things are quite big and plump and his willie’s simply enormous. (She drags this out into “e-NAW-muss). Little Afro boys are often well-endowed, aren’t they, more than English kids? Gwenda. M-mm. Sounds a sensible decision. Have you got a specialist lined up? Lorna. Yes - our GP told us of a Dr Syed, a Moroccan – who was one of the best in Britain for neutering boys. Well, I rang him, his clinic isn’t far: Sunbury-on Thames. The fee he quoted was horrendous, but it’s now or never, I thought. Gwenda. There’s someone coming that you ought to compare notes with. In fact he should be back by now. (The doorbell rings). Perhaps that’s him . (She goes to the door). Hello, Max. Come and meet Lorna. Hello, Simon. Had a nice time at the zoo? Simon. Yes, thank you. (This is the first time we’ve seen Simon since his castration a few months earlier. He is now twelve going on thirteen, a well-built kid, with fair hair cut medium-short and brown eyes set in a round and rather pretty face, all peaches-and-cream. He is wearing a blue school blazer and, unusually in an age when denim jeans are the regular uniform for toddlers upwards, white mercerised cotton P E shorts. It is our first sighting of Major Maxwell G Riche. The Major is a dapper figure in his 40’s, of medium height, with a small clipped moustache. He is wearing a military raincoat (trench-coat) and a flat tweed cap.) Gwenda. A drink, Max? Max. Scotch-on-the rocks if I may. (Gwenda fixes him one). Gwenda. Simon, why don’t you go and find Wendy? She was in the games room when I saw her last. (Simon goes out. As he passes Major Riche, the camera zooms in on the Major’s hand, caressing Simon’s chubby bottom through his paper-thin shorts. This is not lost on Gwenda). Lorna. Will they be alright? I mean, what about S - E - X? (She mouths the letters). Last time you told me, Wendy knew she had something inside her knickers that boys wanted, and Simon’s very good looking….. Gwenda (with a gust of coarse laughter) Oh, my dear girl! Do you really think I’d have had Simon here to stay if he’d been intact? Simon’s quite harmless in that direction. He was “seen to” about a year ago. I was telling you, a few moments ago, if you wanted any advice about getting Barney “done”, you couldn’t do better than talk to Max here. Max. It’s perfectly true. A year ago my poor cousin Jennifer was on the edge of a nervous collapse. Simon’s parents had disappeared from human ken, and she was stuck with him. Simon had been growing more and more impossible. Moody, dirty, ill tempered, lazy, destructive – I could go on for ages. So she went for counselling and they asked, had she thought about castration? Simon was bound to be difficult with all those male hormones beginning to stir. But - just remove two little lumps between his legs and – hey presto! (He beams at the women in a knowing way) Simon was no different from any other horrible little boys that the counsellor had dealt with and they’d all become little cherubs when once the cause was removed – or should I say “causes”? (the women snigger). He said it was very minor surgery at that age and the boys hardly noticed. Jennifer hadn’t dreamed of castration till then, but the more she considered it, the more she liked the idea. After all, she had three lovely children of her own and it wasn’t as if Simon would ever make up a fourth. She decided to get him neutered right away. Lorna. How did you get Simon to agree? Robert- that’s my husband – hasn’t spoken to Barney yet. Was it difficult to persuade Simon to give up his balls? Max. Jennifer wished that problem on to her other cousin, Carl – that’s Lord Manningham in real life but he hates to be called that. Well, Carl was marvellous with him. He just took Simon on one side and said, he knew, didn’t he, that when a young horse reaches a certain age, he often becomes nervous and jumpy and difficult to handle, and then he has to have a little operation, which is done on his privates, and afterwards he becomes sweet-tempered and easy to handle. Well, Simon had seen plenty of gelded horses and ponies and understood at once. Anyway, Carl told him it’s often done on boys too, and they are much happier afterwards. If he, Simon, had it done then he could choose a new personal computer with all the software and games he wanted, and he could also have a trip to Disneyworld. Well, do you know – Simon agreed at once! All he really wanted to know was how soon could he be “done” so he could go and choose his computer. Carl explained that there wasn’t very much to the procedure.It was like an inoculation really. Doctors knew how to prick a boy’s balls and inject a drug that made them dry up. Afterwards, though, he would never be able to get married or have children, or do the thing with a girl that starts a baby. Lorna. And that’s all? That’s the top and bottom of it? Gwenda (under her breath) Certainly the bottom, where Max has anything to do with it. Max (ignoring Gwenda) That’s all. Simon was “done” one afternoon at a clinic that Carl knew, near St Albans. That evening he just had to rest and keep still while the drug took hold, or seemingly it might just disperse. Well, the results were amazing. After three weeks his boy-things, as you call them, Lorna, which had been average size for his age, had shrivelled up, and now, if you’re interested, they’ve completely disappeared. More importantly his penis shrank up into a sort of little acorn, which he could hardly get out of his trousers when he wanted a wee. That’s why he goes round in P E shorts, they are loose in the leg and can be pulled to one side. As to personality, neutering has been the making of him. He’s clean, pleasant-tempered, he has all sorts of quiet interests like reading and painting, and doesn’t pester the girls. (A pause to let this sink in) Lorna. Well, that fills in a lot of gaps. Strikes me I’d better make that appointment to get Barney “done” right away, for the sake of the local females! I’ll be much happier once he has a little winkle that never goes stiff. Max. Tell Barney it’s “real cool” to have it done. Little boys always fall for anything rumoured to be “cool”, I’ve found. Gwenda (brightly) More drinks, anyone? (She goes round topping drinks up, saying to herself, inaudible to Max and Lorna, “I wonder what those kids are getting up to?) The camera fades-out of the lounge and fades-in to the games-room where Simon has been to find Wendy. This is our first meeting with Wendy, now 13½. Later she becomes the girlfriend of Simon’s schoolfriend Mark, but we don’t know that yet. She wears a crop-top and denim mini-skirt which she is in the act of lifting. The camera zooms in to the crotch of her red stretch pants. Simon. Whatever are you doing, Wendy? I can see your knickers. Wendy. I’m going to pull them off. Then you can put your willie in me, front way or back way, whichever you want. Front way is much, much nicer, but you mustn’t let anything go inside me if you do. Perhaps you ought to put it up my behind. That’s a bit messy but perfectly safe. Have you got some vaseline? Simon. Wendy….. Wendy. (ignoring him) Oh good, here’s some (producing a jar of Vaseline from a cupboard). Now I’m going to take my pants off and show you my fanny, and when you’ve had a good look I’ll turn over and give you my bum. (She pulls her knickers off). Simon. Wendy, I’m trying to tell you - I can’t. Wendy. Rubbish, Simon – of course you can. All boys want to. Look! (She spreads her legs) Simon. (shrill with exasperation) Listen, I’ve had this operation and I just can’t! Wendy. I do believe you’ve had your balls cut off. They do that, don’t they – they cut boys’ balls off to make them sing better. And afterwards they can never do anything with a girl. Page boys too, in foreign countries. They are always taken to the doctor, to have their balls taken out, because they have to dress in white silk tights and little knickers. It keeps their cocks nice and limp, so they don’t show, and somehow makes them better behaved. Slave boys too, losing their balls somehow makes them stronger for work. Did they do that to you? Simon. No they didn’t. These days they prick a boy’s balls and inject a drug, and they dry up. The effect is just the same, though, once they dry up, as having them taken right out. My penis won’t go stiff and I’m not able to fuck girls, either the back way or the proper way. Wendy. Yes, I’ve heard about that, how some boys have their balls pricked. It’s a neat idea. Let me see. Take your shorts off and show me. (Simon pulls his shorts down. For the first time we can see his round bottom, which Max Riche lusts after, and his neutered genitals: a tiny penis with no balls or scrotum). Wendy. Oh Simon – it’s sweet! Just like a rosebud. Let me feel it. It’s the smallest doodle I ever saw, and no balls – just a fold of skin! (She begins fiddling with Simon’s foreskin). I’ll try and make it go stiff. If I just keep on pulling and pulling……. Simon. (interrupting) Well, you can’t. I’ve tried and tried, but I just can’t. All you’re doing is making me want to be excused. Wendy. You need a wee? There’s a potty in the corner. Wet in that if you want to. (Simon finds the pot, an enamel one, and wets in it, watched by Wendy). Wendy begins chanting Simon’s had his balls pricked, Simon’s had his balls pricked! (Simon’s chin begins to wobble and his eyes start to fill with tears) Wendy. Why, Simon, you’re crying! Whatever’s the matter? Simon (between sobs) I want to…..I want to…do it! I want to do it….so much! (He breaks down and howls. We should be aware that Simon’s neutering has destroyed his genitals but has not reduced his sex drive). Wendy (embarrassed but sympathetic) There, there, Simon! (She puts her arms round Simon and kisses his cheek. Simon stops howling). I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you! (Simon sniffs audibly. Wendy continues). Listen, I’ve a cool idea! I know you can’t shag me but you can tongue me off. I’ll show you how. Let’s go to my bedroom. (The camera follows them out of the games room and into Wendy’s bedroom, which is decorated in typical teenage style with posters of boy bands and all the rest). Wasting no time Wendy gets on the bed and spreads her legs. The camera zooms in between her thighs. She has a light smudge of pubic hair and her vagina lips are wide open and wet. After showing us this, the camera zooms out again). Wendy. Do you like it? Simon (who has stopped crying) It’s very nice! Wendy. Then you can kiss it! (Simon climbs on to the bed from the foot. Wendy spreads her legs wider still. Simon embraces Wendy’s thighs, her legs over his shoulders, and presses his mouth down on to her sex. Wendy. Move your tongue up and down. A bit lower. There! That’s my sensitive spot. Put it right in there. Ah, that’s nice, that’s nice. Oh, that’s just lovely! Keep on doing that (and more of the same). The camera focuses on Simon’s head, clamped between Wendy’s thighs. Her hands are clasped at the back of his head, holding him there. The camera travels up her body to her face. Wendy’s eyes are closed and a smile plays round her mouth, as she gives herself up to sex pleasure. The camera fades out. FINIS |