"Hey, Pinoke, ha ha," laughed a voice maliciously behind him. "You do look funny just standing there like that all covered in gunk. Let's see what the label says on this dipilatory, I want to see how long you're going to look like Uncle Fester."
I could hear the scrape of the container being removed from the rough hewn table where Hector had left it. There was momentary silence, and a couple of hms and then a guffaw.
"Oh, man, for a nerd Hector's not as anal as most. He probably didn't even read the label on this industrial strength stuff. I bet he googled dipilatories online and decided on the amount of time to leave it on you without considering that this stuff is concentrated 20 to one. That means about one table spoon per gallon, jock off. So right now your skin is steeping in a chemical which the label warns "may cause permanent hair loss if undiluted mixture remains anywhere on the skin for more than 10 minutes." And dude, you've been painted in that goo for at least 45 minutes, 'cause that's how long ago Hector and your cabin mates came down to the mess hall."
I sort of recognize the voice, but I'm not a hundred percent sure. It's got to be someone who dislikes me, but that could be half the nerds, dweebs and geeks in the camp who've taken a pounding from my fists. Hey, it's not like they weren't asking for it. Wait, this guy called Hector a nerd, so he can't be a nerd or geek - maybe a dweeb? Wait did he say it's been 45 minutes? But Hector said he'd be back in 30. No, the bottle says it takes only ten minutes to make me a bald freak permanently?
"Cat got your tongue?" said the voice now inches from my ear.
I couldn't even move my eyes enough to see him peripherally. Then he put a paper bag over my head, and I couldn't see anything.
"No, Hector's got your remote. I've been thinking Hector's not this stupid. He's got to know you'll be permanently hairless, which makes me think he's planning to leave you a puppet permanently. The only thing I need to figure out is how to get that remote, so you're my puppet permanently. I will have so much fun with you."
Hearing the evil glee in his voice, I felt a terrible sense of foreboding. He might have said more, but we could hear voices and feet running.
"Hector, it's been almost an hour, what if his hair doesn't grow back? I, mean, a pranks a prank, this could scar him for life," whined Petey. My heart soared, I actually had a cabin mate speaking on my behalf. Someone was on my side. Admittedly, this was a small victory all things considered, but Petey seemed to be my one hope that I wouldn't end up anybody's puppet permanently. Not a great hope, but hope nonetheless. I just wish Petey wasn't the smallest, youngest, wimpiest kid in the camp.
"No worries, Petey, if it comes to that I'll just program him to say he did it to himself. He lost a bet to shave all over, and decided to be lazy and use dipilatory, and overdid it. He'll even believe it himself."
"That doesn't seem right," said Petey, "Let's get it off him now."
I heard the slosh of water and felt a big wet sponge start to scrub the dried dipilatory off me.
"So what are you doing here?" I heard Hector ask. Presumably, he was questioning the guy who put a bag over his head. He continued, "And why is there a bag on Pinocchio's head."
"Well, I prefer my anonymity for now. I just wanted to see how your experiment was going, and I must say I'm impressed. Industrial strength dipilatory," the voice said. A thud followed as he set the container back on the table, "I bet you researched this product thoroughly before using it on the stud. Any reason you left him popping a boner. I figure even if he was just enjoying being a puppet, it should've sagged a little bit. Though I guess it could be a side effect from prolonged exposure to the dipilatory."
"There isn't any dipilatory on his cock. The skin there is sensitive, and from what I read about that dipilatory lips and penises could blister from prolonged contact. Still his pubes and hairy thighs had to be treated, so leaving him boned kept his cock away from the chemical."
"Blisters? Ow, that sounds painful. Anyway, I brought over some tanning lotion, and some zinc cream. I figured you could use the zinc to write on Pinocchio's body, so that the words will be tanned into his hide by the end of summer. I even brought stencil letters. His shoulders are broad, but there's not enough room for PINOCCHIO going across, but it we put the P-I on his head, the N on his neck, and go down, the O will be right on or above his butt. Maybe PINOKE or SLAVE or PUPPET BOY? Yeah, Puppet Boy going down, the Y's tail would end up pointing straight down his butt crack like an arrow."
"Why would we want an arrow pointing at his butt crack?" Petey asked in a disgusted tone.
"Because little man, when you hit puberty, you'll understand, but this is not a coed camp, and some of us guys -" he paused cleared his throat and said, "This is senior camp, so all of us guys have certain needs, and puppet boy can fulfill those needs better than the inflatable doll that Victor keeps under his bed."
"It's not a doll, it's Christine!" protested Victor indignantly.
"Hey, maybe we should stencil, "NEW CHRISTINE" on Pinocchio?" someone said with a laugh.
The guy who bagged my head laughed, and said, "Now that's the spirit. So what are we going to have hairless puppetboy do first?"
"We're going to apply tanning lotion to him, and having him chop the wood for the bonfire tonight."
"He's going to chop all that wood!" hooted my adversary, "But normally, it takes a whole cabin's 20 members to chop all those cords of wood."
"That's why if you'll get out of our way, we need to finish getting Pinocchio cleaned up. Victor, the stencil idea is a good one. Not the New Christine, but why don't you and some of the other guys start writing names and slogans for Pinocchio while we coat him in suntan oil - SPF 8, had Petey, do you have any sunscreen, I think his pale cock probably needs SPF 15 to start," Hector said, "and in a couple days we can lower it to SPF 8. Then we'll decide on what to stencil on him and where." He pulled the bag off my head and started to sponge the dipilatory away from my eyes and mouth.
I am a puppet boy, and there's nothing I can do about it. Petey, help!