Prospects

Prologue

The conversation was carried on in a language few people would have been able to understand, let alone speak. Translated into colloquial American English, it might have sounded something like this:

“But it is possible? Originally you said it could not be accomplished at all.”

“Possible, yes. Feasible — who knows? It is a question of adaptation. For ourselves, it is too late; we are being irreversibly poisoned by this place as we speak. For the next generation, there is hope. Perhaps. It will not be an easy task.”

“What must be done? Speak! There is no greater priority.”

“It is a question of balance. Our young are more adaptable than we are. Measured ongoing exposure — no, let me be clear, continuous exposure — during prenatal development can provide their systems with a chance to accommodate to the toxins here, allowing the child to build resistance that will last through the remainder of its life.

“That is all? Why has this not already been initiated?”

“All?” There followed what might have been called a laugh. “Perhaps you did not comprehend the nuances of my statement. Continuous prenatal exposure consistently at the required levels, within the reach of our available resources, is achievable only if native hosts are used as surrogate mothers. Considering the requirements involved and our location, we must use the dominant species for this purpose.”

“Excellent! There are millions of them, all over! The relative few we require will hardly be missed. What is the problem here?”

“There are several problems, as you would know if you spent more time studying our reports and less time studying other crewmembers. Most importantly, suitable specimens are not as easy to acquire as you imagine. First, understand this process is a very stressful one for the host, which must adapt itself to our young in the same way that the child will be adapting itself to the host and this environment. Only young, healthy hosts will be able to survive this process, even with assistance — and if the parent dies, so does the child. This, of itself, substantially reduces the available resource pool.”

“Second, considerable effort will be required to achieve implantation in the first place. The biologies are dissimilar and it is likely rejection will occur unless we can increase the levels of key compounds in the host before the implantation occurs. It is annoying that the local life forms filter these compounds readily, so constant reintroduction of them will be required. Additionally, our technical resources are inadequate to support any project of meaningful size, so implantation will need to occur naturally.”

“Mate with one of these freaks! That is what you are implying? That is outrageous and obscene!”

“That is not what I understood you to be telling that specialist last night. Nevertheless, you — or others — will need to consider this if you wish to have a future generation to perform your funeral rites. It further complicates matters that we are only barely physically compatible.”

“Third, recall the dominant species consists of two distinct sexes –”

“Disgusting! How do they mate?”

“– which procreate much the same way we do, except mating requires one of each sex, and their roles are fixed by gender. The ‘females’ unsurprisingly make up about half of the local candidate population.”

“Fourth, like ourselves, this species appears to be quite protective of its adolescents, although we have observed some conflicting data in this regard. Generally, we would be wise to assume their reactions would mirror our own. As we have discussed before, we cannot afford to agitate the local population with our presence, and our young would be most vulnerable to predation.”

“In conclusion, we require access to a relatively small demographic of the local population, one most calculated to enrage it, for an extended period of time prior to implantation and while the young are carried to term, in numbers beyond what our resources may support. Thus, I believe our survival is possible but improbable.”

“Esteemed elder, my team has considered these factors and may be able to contribute in this area.”

“That is well; share your thoughts with us.”

“In summary, we will pay them to bring their young females to us.”

“No rational being would do such a thing!”

“Ha! You speak of ‘mail order brides’?”

“I must apologize for being overly concise; allow me to restate our proposal. We will need interfaces with the local population, undoubtedly, but each presents substantially increased risk. Implemented correctly, we believe it is possible to pay ‘humans’ to perform most of the required work unwittingly, with only the most restricted amount of physical contact required.”

“What ‘implementation’ do you contemplate?”

“We suggest buying a school. Humans send their young to them on a near-daily basis for significant fractions of time. In particular, a ‘high school’ will be populated almost exclusively by adolescents who have recently reached sexual maturity. The nature of the command hierarchy at such an institution further allows us significant control over all aspects of it with relatively little exposure.”

“Surely we cannot simply buy a school? Who would send their young to be educated by untrusted unknowns?”

“Surprisingly, most local humans, it would appear. A phenomenon known as ‘charter schools’ seems be enjoying some popularity at present; it would be best, we believe, to obtain controlling interest in a private company, and encourage that company to run the school for us. If we contrive to place a suitable human in the ‘principal’ role our influence will be substantial and it should be possible to condition all humans at the school with reduced risk and effort.”

“This is possible?”

“The humans have a saying: ‘money talks.’ Conveniently for us, their monetary system is highly computerized and tangible currency is not often used in significant transactions. We suggest that …”

June

“Yes, yes, Ms. Wakefield, I assure you we have considered this decision extremely carefully and the entire council is in unanimous agreement on this point.” The man in the center seat on the podium struggled to contain his exasperation. “As you know, Ms. Haskell has investigated all aspects of the proposal before the council, personally and in great detail. I believe you’ve had an opportunity to review her reports?”

The frustrated woman behind the audience microphone reiterated her point. “I just don’t think it’s right to punish our teachers because of an isolated problem or two brought on by poor parenting — and bad administration! We don’t even know these Tranco people.”

He obviously was unconvinced. Still. “I’m afraid that’s the end of the time we have reserved for public input. If the council remains in agreement” — the man looked for nods from the others seated beside him — “then by unanimous vote, Lawrence Hyde High School is designated a charter school by the Town of Springfield. Further, TRAINCO Corporation is granted the authority to operate the school for a period of 5 years, subject to review, under the terms and conditions previously disclosed and mutually agreed upon. This meeting of the Town Council is hereby adjourned; good evening.”

August

Zoe Ryan looked curiously at the sign the workers were adjusting: “Lawrence Hyde Charter High School: A TRAINCO Instructional Facility”. It topped the security gate, also still under construction, that led onto the school campus. The blonde-haired girl snapped a quick picture with her cell phone before skipping ahead a few steps to rejoin her mother, and continued scanning her surroundings as the pair followed the freshly placed signs to the administration building.

A woman behind the counter greeted them cheerfully as they entered the registration lobby. “Good afternoon, ladies, and welcome to Lawrence Hyde Charter High School! I’m Nancy; how may I assist you today?” It certainly didn’t look anything like her last school, Zoe reflected. Possibly that was the point. She hung back and let her mother carry the conversation.

“Hi, Nancy, I’m Becky Ryan and this is my daughter, Zoe. We’d like to get Zoe registered for this fall!”

Nancy beamed. “Oh, wonderful! You picked a perfect time; we were so busy last week. A transfer, right? And for what level will she be registering?” The registrar began assembling binders on the countertop.

“Eleventh grade; she’s just turned sixteen!” Zoe started tuning out the patter, hardening herself to the unwelcome commentary she expected would be coming.

It wasn’t that there was anything obviously unwelcoming about the school itself or Nancy; it was just that it was… school. Another school, like Parker High. The school she and her friend, Amber, had attended for the past two years. The school they would have attended this year except that Amber had killed herself after the sexting scandal.

Zoe still blamed herself. She’d known about the picture early, after a laughing classmate showed it to her between periods that spring. She’d figured out who’d leaked it, not for a fact, but her intuition was good, and gone to Amber. She’d let Amber talk her out of reporting it, even though she’d known her friend’s hopes that it would just die down were misplaced. She’d waited, looking for the right opportunity to report the issue. And then Amber had ended it all, and it hadn’t mattered any more who she told… and after a day or two of shocked silence, the cretins who started it all had started laughing about it again.

Now she had a new home, and a new school, and — maybe soon — new friends. It helped that her mother was a realtor, but Zoe remained dazed at the speed with which they’d uprooted and transferred to this side of town. All because her parents wanted her to attend a good school, had heard about TRAINCO, and jumped at the opportunity to enroll her here. Parker had been a good school, Zoe sulked — it was just the idiots enrolled there. There probably were idiots just like them enrolled here.

It wasn’t like TRAINCO didn’t have a good sales pitch. Zoe paid a little more attention as Nancy started rattling off the same points the teen (and her parents) had found in their research.

“We stress a strict focus on academic discipline, physical fitness, and personal responsibility,” Nancy continued. “There’s a strict attendance policy, and a strict dress code. We’ll measure Zoe for her uniforms in a few minutes.” That was news to the teen.

“We expect our students to focus on the classes, so there are no cell phones, music players, or other personal electronics allowed on campus. We serve only wholesome food at the cafeteria — no soft drinks or junk food in the vending machines. Swimming is mandatory; it’s a valuable life skill and good exercise. If Zoe’s behind on her inoculations, we’ll provide them at the on-campus medical clinic.”

All pretty much like you’d expect, Zoe reflected. TRAINCO might be new to the school business, but they had an envious track record of providing top-tier technical skills training for big and small business. She’d done a lot of digging at the library after her parents announced this plan, wanting to know what she was in for.

Belatedly, Zoe realized Nancy was addressing her directly. “Now, young lady, most of your schedule will be taken up by required core classes, but you do have one elective this fall. What do you see on this list that interests you?”

It fairly leapt off the page at her. “Oh, newsletter and yearbook — that’s a class?” She’d fancied herself a good writer at Parker, but the newsletter had been an extracurricular activity there. Yearbook seemed like a pointless exercise in exchanging autographs and trite homilies. It brought back memories of Amber’s picture, never to be signed, and Zoe reminded herself she had planned to be unenthusiastic today. “Newsletter would be fine,” she amended, trying to project the proper image of teenage ennui.

“Well, that’s just fine!” exclaimed Nancy. “You’re all set, then.” Zoe almost rolled her eyes, imagining that she would have gotten exactly the same response if she’d chosen “cannibalism” or “underwater basket weaving”. A few clicks on a keyboard and another sheet of paper joined the growing stack on the countertop.

Nancy gestured around the end of the counter, towards a doorway in the back wall. “Now, Zoe, if you’ll come with me, we’ll get you measured for your uniforms and take your picture for your ID.” She led the way into a small room with a wall-mounted monitor and keyboard, a bare table, and what looked like a changing room. Nancy held the door for her.

“Here’s the scoop: You need to take off your clothes and leave them in the changing room, then step into the measuring silo and stand with your feet on the red outlines and your arms held out horizontally. You can leave on your underwear as long as it isn’t too loose — that’s a problem with the boys — and as long as you don’t have extra padding in your bra. Hmmm, you can either tie your hair back in a ponytail or use a cap here to hold it up. Any questions?”

Zoe eyed the setup curiously. This certainly wasn’t the cloth tape she’d unconsciously expected. “How does it work?”

“Oh, it’s all computerized.” Duh. “A scanner will circle 360 degrees around you from head to toe, measuring you precisely in all three dimensions. Your profile is mapped to a computer model, which controls our fully-automated fabrication hardware. The uniforms will actually be custom-made for you while you wait!”

The girl was impressed in spite of herself. She’d read about the introduction of similar technology in a few Levis stores in big cities, but Springfield was far from any of them — and this contraption sounded like it was a generation or two more advanced, if it worked as advertised.

Zoe latched the door behind herself and kicked off her flip-flops. One, two, three thin layers of tops came off to expose her simple bra. She scowled with dissatisfaction. “Do you record the pictures from this?” she called over the door.

“Oh no, dear, not at all,” Nancy reassured her. “There are no pictures what-so-ever” — the last word was distinctly emphasized — “the scanner just takes measurements, and we only get numbers. Even I can’t see anything. Your mother is right here to keep me honest!”

The hated bra went on top of the other clothing. Zoe didn’t know if she’d outgrown it, or the size was just wrong, or what, but it had never felt right to her. There was no sense in leaving it on and getting another bad measurement from it. She wouldn’t have worn it today if they had been able to find the box with the clothes from her dresser; stupid movers. She deftly tied her hair back with a rubber band, and then shimmied her jeans down her legs to the floor.

Not bad, Zoe decided without false modesty, looking at herself in the mirror. The girl staring back was moderately tall and carried no unnecessary weight. Her trim body was toned from moderate exercise and curved in ways she knew had boys looking at her. She felt her breasts were a perfect handful, definitely feminine but not so big they sagged or gave her problems like she’d heard of from other, more developed, acquaintances. A pair of boyshorts hugged her hips, closely enough Zoe knew she didn’t have to worry they’d throw off the scanner, and covered a pubic patch the same light blonde as the hair on her head. Those tresses fell in soft waves to just below her shoulders, when she wore it free as she preferred.

Introspection completed, Zoe walked into the scanning “silo” and stood on the red footprints in the center of the room. It appeared perfectly circular and perhaps 8 or 9 feet in diameter. The walls were mirrored with a faint gridline, making for a somewhat disconcerting experience. “I’m ready!” she called out.

A panel rose from the floor to block the entrance, making the circle complete. “Okay!” Nancy replied. “Arms out!” Zoe rapidly raised them. “Eyes closed! Remember to breathe!” A whirring sound, not unlike her mother’s flatbed scanner, started immediately behind Zoe and began circling her in a clockwise direction. “That’s good, hold still,” came the periodic encouragement as the scanner continued its slow orbit. Finally the circuit was completed and the scanner shut off. The entry panel sank with a hiss as Nancy called, “done, Zoe!”

It took almost no time to re-dress and Zoe joined the two older women in the antechamber. Nancy led them back out into the lobby, reaching her station just as the laser printer ejected a sheet of paper into the output tray. “Here we are!” she announced unnecessarily, placing the printout on the counter where all three of them could read it.

There were dozens of measurements, more than Zoe thought anybody should have to care about. She focused on familiar ones, which Nancy was reciting aloud. “Height 5 foot 7 inches; 35 inch bust, B cup; 25 inch waist, very nice; 33 inch hips.” Zoe felt the weight of her mother’s sharp glance as Becky observed her daughter’s figure with fresh eyes. “Weight, 115 pounds. There’s a scale in the floor.” That much? Zoe frowned, thinking she must have put on 5 pounds over the summer. But it didn’t look bad on her, and her parents were always reminding her to exercise in moderation and neither binge nor diet excessively. “I wish this were my chart,” Nancy summarized with a friendly smile.

“Now,” she continued, “how do you want your hair for your picture? Down, like when you came in? I have a brush here.” Nodding yes, Zoe pulled off the rubber band. Becky took charge of the brush, untangling and then teasing her daughter’s hair until it looked just right. A quick run of her fingers through the front and it felt right to Zoe, too.

“Isn’t this automated, too?” Zoe inquired. Nancy laughed, displaying a slightly battered digital point-and-shoot camera with an attached USB cable. “Never send a machine to do a woman’s job — we want people to be able to recognize you from your photograph. Now, smile for me…” Zoe obeyed and Nancy snapped a few frames in burst mode. “We do Photoshop the background and uniform,” she admitted. “Now this will take just a minute or three,” she warned before disappearing into another back room.

“Where did you get a 35-inch bust?” Becky mock-growled at her daughter. “My God, Ken will have a heart attack.” Zoe knew her father would do no such thing, but couldn’t stifle a giggle at the joke. Her mother brightened a tad. “Good, a little sparkle, finally. You’d think we were sending you off to the army, not high school.”

Soon enough, Nancy bustled back in with a large, loaded shopping bag. “Oof!” she exclaimed as she deposited it on the floor next to the counter. “Now, here we have your textbooks, your schedule, your locker assignment, a copy of the new student handbook, water bottle, and your student ID. Be sure you don’t lose it!”

Zoe fished out the latter object by the lanyard attached to it, and inspected the picture. It would pass muster, she allowed, approving of the pose. It was intriguing how natural the picture looked. Even on close inspection, the top of the blouse, jacket and tie looked totally realistic and there was no aliasing or join line between her and the earthy brown background of the picture, even around the ends of her hair. It was a little bizarre, seeing herself in an outfit she hadn’t even laid eyes on yet. The badge was perhaps an eighth of an inch thick and felt reassuringly solid. Zoe looped the lanyard over her head.

“Now, it will take a few minutes more for your uniforms, Zoe. Those, a swimsuit, and gym clothes all are included with your registration. You can buy more if you need or want them, but I don’t recommend it at this point — although you look like you’ve finished growing.” Nancy paused for a breath before continuing, “now, there are a few more things you’ll need: socks or hose; shoes; bras; you can use your own, if they comply with the dress code, or buy them here. These articles aren’t custom-made, but they are sized for your measurements. Just a reminder: flip-flops are not compliant.” She looked inquiringly at them.

“I’d like two bras,” Zoe offered diffidently, and was relieved when Becky nodded assent. “34B, 34B,” Nancy muttered as she headed into the supply room, and returned a moment later with two white bras that went into another large shopping bag.

They signed a few more forms before — finally! — Nancy glanced at her monitor and announced Zoe’s clothing was finished. She returned a minute later with several hangers in a transparent bag and several packages. “That was easy. You’re such a nice size, Zoe; the computer hardly had to work at all! Now, here are your uniform blouses” — white — “and skirts” — navy with white pinstripes — “and a uniform jacket and tie.” Both were solid navy blue. She turned to the shrink-wrapped clothing. “Here’s the swimsuit” — a navy and white patterned one-piece — “and gym clothes.” These were a couple sets of shorts and T-shirts, either white with a navy logo, or blue with white logo. They didn’t quite overflow the bag when they were added to it.

After a cheery farewell from the administrator, Zoe was trudging in her mother’s wake towards the car, burdened by the large bag and hangers. Nancy had even thrown in a pair of extra water bottles for her parents, as if the bag weren’t full enough. It was enough to make her wonder why they didn’t have an official Hyde High book bag. The front gate beeped once as she walked through it, attracting the girl’s attention. A box on the side of the gate had an illuminated green light, which went out when she resumed walking. It was a relief to reach the car.

Zoe stared out the car window as her mother chattered on the hands-free set, setting up showings. Her own phone remained stubbornly silent, as if it too mourned Amber’s absence. They lived far enough from the school to be eligible for bussing, but Zoe still was trying to get a feel for the neighborhood and local landmarks. A lot of the houses in the subdivision looked pretty much the same. She didn’t want to get lost trying to find her own house!

At first Zoe thought her mother had gotten confused and pulled up at the wrong house, where a girl about her own age was mowing the front yard. But no, her father’s car was in the driveway ahead of them. As they got out of the car and popped the trunk to collect her things, the unfamiliar brunette stopped the mower and walked over to them.

“Oh My God, another fucking Stepford child,” the girl drawled, taking in the TRAINCO/Hyde logos on the side of the bag. As if this girl should talk, Zoe thought — she was wearing a sports jersey cropped well above the midriff, a pair of ragged cutoffs so short that if they unraveled any more, they’d be a skirt, or belt… and boots. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and judging by the skin visible through the jersey mesh, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Zoe sensed her mother was about to explode into an indignant defense, and the other girl must have seen that too. “Oh hey, I’m sorry — no offense — but I just went through their wringer too. I’m Claudia Babbitt; I live next door.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the neighboring house behind her. “Mr. Ryan asked me to cut your grass.”

Ken Ryan appeared at the front door as if summoned. “I see you’ve met Claudia,” he guessed. “Almost,” jibed Becky. “Hello, Claudia, I’m Becky Ryan and this is our daughter, Zoe.” Simultaneous “hello”s from the girls crossed as Ken hefted the bag and hangers. “Wow, any money left in the checking account?” he joked. “Why don’t you girls get acquainted while we take care of this? Claudia, there’s no rush on the yard.”

Zoe found herself stuck in a conversation she wasn’t really sure she wanted to have. Claudia clearly was no Amber, and Zoe felt unready for a friendship even if she had been. “So, Zoe,” Claudia broke the silence, “what year are you? Senior?” The blonde admitted she wasn’t, just a little unhappy that the new acquaintance apparently wasn’t in the same class.

“That blows,” Claudia commiserated. “I have one more year to get out of here, and they pull this fucking shit on us. Lucky you; you get a bonus year.” She laughed. “God, can you imagine if you were a fucking freshman? I guess your parents picked the wrong neighborhood to move to, eh?”

“We moved here just so I could go to Hyde,” Zoe shot back, angry that the sacrifice she knew her parents were making for her was being denigrated. “It’s better than a lot of places! And TRAINCO might be new to charter schools, but they have 95%+ satisfaction ratings for their technical training programs, and you know the charter school concept has been shown to be effective in a lot of different places across the US.”

Claudia looked a little more serious. “Hey, at least your parents are there for you.” She glanced about before continuing in a lower voice. “My mom skipped out, and my dad’s a truck driver. I see him maybe once or twice a month; I think he might have another woman somewhere. Don’t tell anybody, okay? The last thing I need is to get fingered as a latchkey kid and have some asshole social worker stick me in a fucking foster home.”

Zoe felt more sympathy for the girl as she imagined what she’d feel like in that position. Her manner was abrasive and her language shocking to the blonde who rarely heard her parents curse, but Claudia was interesting. Zoe realized that despite the rocky start, she was curious to learn more. “Maybe you can come over for dinner tonight after you finish the yard?” With a sly wink, Zoe added, “If your father doesn’t mind?”

Claudia rewarded her with a slow smile and a nod before turning back to the mower. “Sounds like a date, ‘Stepford Barbie’!” Zoe fumed — she so did not look like a Barbie doll! “Sure thing, ‘trailer-trash Jade’!” Claudia laughed hard enough it took her two tries to restart the mower.

September

The first day of school was chaos. It made sense to Zoe; the first day at a new school would be a bit crazy anyway, but this time Hyde High was pretty much a new school for everybody — even the returning students who’d attended the previous year. She’d read her materials cover-to-cover, and checked the important things like the dress code and code of conduct twice just to be sure. Her father had dropped her off, so she didn’t have to worry about bus delays. All of the preparation paid off as she threaded her way from the curb through the entry gates and past the harassed security personnel. Swirls of confused students and parents surrounded them, complaining of misunderstandings, lost ID cards, and the like.

Once inside, Zoe got her bearings and headed for her locker. There was an immediate sense that the environment had changed, highlighted by the consistency of the school uniforms. Like her, the other students were garbed in muted navy blue, relieved only by the white shirts and blouses and the occasional splash of color from a backpack or purse.

Zoe hadn’t realized it until she’d tried them on, but each of her blouses and the jacket had her name embroidered over the left breast, accompanied by the circular logo she guessed represented a hurricane. All of the custom pieces contained tags like “ZZ0000P0012-RZB44301-001” in them. It seemed like overkill when everybody’s name already appeared on their badges.

There were several different background colors on the ID badges, which she hadn’t figured out. There was a bit more variation in the footwear. Zoe was wearing white anklets and her blue-and-white Nikes. Athletic shoes were common, with a few loafers or flats, but everything she saw was white or blue or black.

Zoe found her locker without much difficulty. Instead of a combination wheel or padlock, there was a thick slot just above a knob. Leaving the lanyard about her neck, the teen pushed her ID into the slot and the locker popped open. There was a convenient holder for her water bottle; she utilized it and dumped her pack in the locker. She extracted her organizer and checked the time. According to the clocks on the wall, the opening assembly wouldn’t start for another 10 minutes.

It was easy to move with the flow of other students now that everybody was going in the same direction. Zoe looked around the gymnasium as she entered, trying to judge how many people were present and where to sit. She hated the thought of having to endure the uncertainty of finding her place where she didn’t really know anybody.

Finally she slid into a bleacher seat next to another girl who also wore ID with a brown background. “Hi Paige, I’m Zoe!” The uniforms made introductions easier, anyway. “Hi, Zoe Ryan,” the other girl responded. “Oh! You’re a junior too; I bet we share some classes.”

Zoe asked, “how did you know my year? Is it the badges?”

“Yup,” Paige nodded. “Red backgrounds are freshmen, green is for sophomores, brown is us juniors, seniors get yellow, and the teachers are white.” She paused a moment and added, “I don’t know if the colors will rotate years or not. I mean, why reprint them if you can just reuse them each year, right?”

The blonde was a bit dazed by the speed of the analysis and nodded absently. She returned her attention to the floor of the gymnasium, where a microphone stand stood in the center of the court. Several members of the cheer team worked the crowd, their largely white and glittering costumes standing out starkly against the blue of the audience.

One of the cheerleaders moved to the microphone and announced, “will everyone please stand for the National Anthem?” Dutifully the audience complied and “The Star Spangled Banner” began. Bored, Zoe studied the announcer, whose medium brown hair had a touch of red that didn’t look quite natural, and then focused on the cheerleader with dirty blonde tresses swaying side to side and singing enthusiastically with the music. The other cheer members started singing too, so apparently the girl had some influence.

“Who are they?” Zoe whispered to Paige.

“Ugh,” Paige nearly swallowed the expletive. “The one at the microphone is Jana Fowicki; she’s the student body president. Interesting, when you think about it… The school administration completely changes, at least half the teachers are new, we have a boatload of new transfers like you, but she’s still there. Go figure. Anyway, the hyperactive spazz next to her is my big sister, Joanne. She’s the cheer captain, senior class treasurer, yearbook editor, teacher’s pet, general ‘it’ girl…”

The tone of the recitation let Zoe know there was some bad history there somewhere. She studied the sisters a little more closely, noticing the family resemblance. Both wore their hair long — to mid-back, Joanne’s a little curlier and Paige’s a little lighter. Paige was solemn; Joanne looked like a child in a candy store — who’d already had too much sugar. Ironically, it was the younger sister who seemed to be fighting a losing battle with adolescent acne.

Zoe ventured to share her last thought about Joanne and Paige snorted as everybody resumed their seats. “Now it’s show time,” she whispered absently.

“Thank you everybody,” Jana announced, “I know it’s good to be back. And this year is going to be the best ever for Hyde High. Let’s have a big round of applause for the reason why, our new principal, Mr. Paul Edwards!” Joanne and the cheer squad jumped and screamed, while the audience offered much more restrained applause.

An immaculately groomed man in an expensive-looking suit strode to the microphone. “Thank you, Jana, and good morning everybody. It’s great to be here!” He paused for a minute to sip from the TRAINCO water bottle he was carrying, and then continued speaking.

There was no reason for it, but Zoe loathed him on sight. He had a great smile, and was using it, but it reminded her of every oily used car salesman and slimy philandering politician she’d ever seen or heard of or read about. How in the world had he gotten this job? She looked about furtively as he continued speaking, but it didn’t appear that anybody else was registering anything but approval, or boredom, or…

The sight was so unexpected, so incongruous, that Zoe did an astonished double-take. To her left, on the end of the bleacher just across the stairs and a row further back, a girl was masturbating! Could she have misinterpreted something?

Zoe frankly stared at the girl as much as she could while attempting to avoid drawing attention. Dark auburn hair about the same length as her own swayed gently as the girl rocked slowly back and forth. From her unique vantage, unobstructed by intervening bodies and with eyes at the level of the other girl’s seat, Zoe gaped as the redhead brushed her skirt further into her lap and began to tease herself delicately with a finger.

The finger stopped. Zoe flushed as she realized the other girl was looking back at her! Her face, framed by the soft curl of her hair, looked young and innocent, exactly the opposite of what Zoe read from Principal Edwards.

The girl held Zoe’s eyes with her own, and slid a finger up along her thigh again. This time, Zoe watched the finger come back just into view, pulling red panties aside, and then the flash of red was blocked by the other hand. Oh. My. God. Zoe couldn’t believe it! Both girls stared at each other, lips parted in excitement or shock, as the redhead silently worked herself.

She jerked once and tensed, then slowly freed her hands. They smoothed the uniform skirt back down to her knees, and then she blew a kiss to the still-flushed blonde. Zoe whirled away in time to hear, “…and I know you will make us proud. Once again, welcome to Lawrence Hyde Charter High School.”

Everybody scrambled to their feet as the cheerleaders bounced up and down shouting forgettable slogans. “Well, what did you think about that?” Paige asked. Apparently, and luckily for Zoe, the question was largely rhetorical. “I think they can’t run us like a business. We’re teenagers, our little brains aren’t developed yet, and our little attention spans are too stunted. Look at hyper girl, there. Conversely, I agree we have to be held accountable for our performance — I mean, remember Lenny Smith? Oh right, you wouldn’t. Well, talk about the poster child for social promotion…”

The auburn-haired angel was waiting on the stairs for Zoe, surrounded by a crowd of other students talking to her or trying to get her attention. Clearly, she was the center of gravity of this section of the bleachers. Zoe envied her the popularity, if not her apparent lack of inhibition. A yellow senior ID hung from the girl’s neck. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” she inquired. Zoe sensed as much as heard the surrounding silence as listeners concentrated on what she said. “I’d love to see you again, Zoe.” With that, she swept down the stairs, accompanied by her entourage.

Paige punched Zoe in the shoulder. “Hey! Zoe! When did you meet her?”

Zoe looked blank. “Who?”

“Her, who. Mariah. Mariah Haskell.” Seeing Zoe’s clueless expression, Paige sighed, dragged her new-found friend along by the arm, and fell effortlessly into lecture mode. “Mariah Haskell, the Queen of Hyde High. Center of the social circuit. Mover and shaker. Party girl extraordinaire. Her mother’s on the town council, one of the primary backers of this charter school concept. Some people say TRAINCO’s here ’cause Mariah is. Anyway, a conversation with Mariah’s like a golden ticket to popularity. As long as you don’t mind high-maintenance toadies. Really, you’ve never met her before?”

Zoe shook her head. “Nope. I don’t need any high-maintenance toadies. I can make my own friends.” And not the kind who jill off in the middle of an assembly, it went without saying.

Pleasingly, it developed that Paige’s locker was not far from her own. “Hey, what’s your next class? I have swimming.”

Paige looked disappointed. “No, I took that last year. Regular PE for me until it gets colder, unless you want to trade?”

“Not a chance. I’d rather laze around at the pool than play team sports any day. I’ll see you later then, Paige.” The two girls waved at each other and headed in separate directions.

Zoe knew the pool was close by the gymnasium, but she seemed to have gotten turned around and the attempted shortcut didn’t work out. She headed down a short, deserted maintenance hallway and was about to open the door at the end when she heard voices on the other side.

“Miss Haskell, may I have a word with you?” Zoe froze at Principal Edwards’ voice, and then guiltily moved closer to the door to eavesdrop. “Yes, Principal Edwards?” That was Mariah’s voice.

“What do you think you were doing this morning?” The principal’s tone was curt and abrupt, but the volume was low enough Zoe had to listen carefully to understand him.

“You mean, listening to the assembly?” Mariah asked.

“No, I mean masturbating during assembly! That is totally unacceptable behavior, especially coming from you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She giggled? Zoe could almost believe it, coming from Mariah. “I thought nobody saw me.”

The conversation took a surprising turn at that point. “You know damn well somebody saw you. That girl across from you watched everything — I could see the look on her face from center court!”

“Her?” Mariah’s tone was condescending. “She won’t say anything — like a deer in headlights!”

“You don’t know that.” Something or someone hit the door, causing Zoe to jump. “The point is to — not — get — caught. You are supposed to be mature enough to have a modicum of self control. I expect more from you; I am sure your mother expects more from you. Are we clear on this?”

Mariah sounded almost chastised and replied with a simple, “yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good. Then there’s no reason to bring this up again. Get back to class.” The conversation ended, Principal Edwards opened the door, only to encounter the proverbial deer in headlights herself.

A frisson of fear ran down Zoe’s spine, and she grabbed at the first thought that came to mind. “I’m sorry, sir! I was running to get to swim class and didn’t realize you were there!” She didn’t have to fake the panting. Without waiting for a response, she brushed between the pair and bolted down the cross passage. She didn’t know which way it led, and at the moment didn’t care.

Zoe risked a glance back as she turned the corner — the Principal was still watching her, his gaze coolly speculative.

Her heart was still pounding when she arrived at the pool shower room, 5 minutes late. What was wrong with that man? The puzzled teen couldn’t stop worrying at the question, but she forced it aside for the moment and looked around.

The last of her classmates was just disappearing through the open doorway on the far wall that led to the pool itself, leaving the tardy blonde alone for the moment. The concept was clear enough, even if Zoe hadn’t reviewed the instructions from her registration packet that morning. She found an open locker near the corner of the room and started undressing, hanging her uniform neatly inside it. When Zoe was naked except for her ID on its lanyard, she pulled on her blue and white suit. It fit like a second skin, but was stretchy enough that it wasn’t that difficult to get into. The blonde walked over to the shower area and rinsed off briefly, thankful the water was warm. It wasn’t like she’d actually had a chance to get dirty, but she appreciated the consideration since others would be swimming in the same water. Grabbing a towel from the stack near the door, Zoe continued on to the pool.

It truly was the architectural wonder of the school. An indoor Olympic-sized pool, built on the location of the old administration parking lot, was a marvel for any high school, let alone one in Springfield. And TRAINCO had designed, planned, and constructed it in a single summer. It even smelled new to Zoe.

All of the other students were in the water already, boys and girls on opposite sides of the pool. “So nice you could join us, Miss Ryan,” the hard-faced woman greeted her.

“I’m sorry, I got lost,” Zoe apologized, “but it won’t happen again.” Was she going to get off on the wrong foot with every adult she met today? Without prompting, she dumped her towel near the wall and hung her ID on an unused hook with the others, then jumped in the pool.

“Well, then,” the woman said, apparently appeased, “for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Coach Gold. My task is to ensure you can go near water without drowning yourselves or disgracing me. Now that we’re all here, it appears you all know at least the very rudimentary basics. Let’s see each of you do a lap of free-style, so we can see what I have to work with.”

By the time the coach released them, Zoe felt like she’d been doing anything but laze around. The woman wasn’t easy to satisfy, and actual swimming, as opposed to just floating around goofing off, took a lot more energy than Zoe remembered. The girls clambered out of the pool, retrieving their towels and badges, and casting covert looks at the boys doing the same thing on the opposite wall.

Zoe felt good about herself and the way the suit fit her body; it was pretty modest, even if the scoop in back was fairly low. Consequently she felt no need to cover herself completely with the towel, nor any desire to flaunt herself the way one or two of the other girls did. On the other hand, some of the boys were pretty good-looking and their Speedo-style briefs were a lot more revealing than the oversized baggy shorts in fashion.

The blonde was a trifle uncomfortable with the communal showering, but she focused on getting through it as quickly as possible so she wouldn’t be late for her next class. Some of the other girls showed some mild interest in striking up an acquaintance but respected her reserve. Whatever the material of her suit was, Zoe found that it was practically dry by the time she made it back to her locker to collect her French textbook.

She’d been looking forward to it all day, and finally last period — Zoe’s cherished newsletter/yearbook course — had arrived. By all appearances, she’d even managed to make it to the correct classroom on time!

Zoe quietly slipped in the door at the back of the room. She recognized Joanne Ward, still in cheer uniform, sitting on a desk at the front of the room, gossiping with a few other girls. There didn’t appear to be a teacher present yet. Definitely feeling like an outsider, Zoe sunk into a desk halfway up and settled in, chin propped on hands, to listen quietly.

“I mean, how was I like, to know? She’s like, an ice queen.” Joanne gestured broadly with both arms. “She talked for ever, dissecting feelings he might have for a relationship that like, might exist, like a frog in biology, and so didn’t do a thing! Oh My God! Well, Kevin was like, so hot in that shirt that I just had to feel it. And then, he’s like, ‘if you like it so much, you should wear it,’ and I’m like, ‘I already have a shirt,’ and he, like, just takes it off and tells me, ‘this one’s better’. He is like, one ripped boy, you know?”

Her audience nodded in agreement while the cheerleader sighed and drew another breath. “So then, I’m like, ‘turn around,’ and I take off my shirt and put on Kevin’s, and Paige is like, ‘you slut,’ and screaming and stuff. I mean, I still had my bra on, like my swimsuit covers less than that. So, anyway, Kevin and I like hooked up a few times but she’s still like I stole him or something. As if he’d waste any time on a zit-face like her.” With an air of dispensing hard-won advice, Joanne added, “don’t have a younger sister — it’s like, too much drama.”

Everybody was digesting that when one of the other girls piped up, “you know who’s really a slut?” Predictably, all of the others wanted to know. “Claudia Babbitt! She is such a slut, did you see her?” There was babble as several of the girls talked over one another, and Zoe leaned forward with interest. She’d formed a tentative friendship with her prickly neighbor and, while Claudia certainly had a unique approach to clothing, “slut” wasn’t a word Zoe would have chosen.

“She wore a black bra!” gasped a contributor. “I heard all about it from Yelena, who was there the whole time. You could totally see it the whole time! The security dudes were so mad, but they couldn’t do anything about it.” Zoe nodded knowingly herself, appreciating the loophole — the dress code required girls to wear brassieres, and had an absurd number of specifications and prohibitions regarding them, but neglected to say anything about color. That probably would change, quickly, but she’d have to remember to give “trailer-trash Jade” chops for the stunt.

The burst of a camera flash beside her startled Zoe so badly that her chin fell off its perch and she barely stopped herself from bashing it on the desktop. The group at the front of the room, attracted by her muffled shriek, belatedly noticed her while she in turn studied her ambusher.

He was attractive, if no stud, and a junior like herself, according to his badge. Zoe could imagine herself with him, with very little effort. He smiled at her over the top of his camera. Oh God, she thought, I must look like a loser; my hair is still a total mess from swimming. “It’s for your driver’s license picture,” he deadpanned. “The next one will be better.”

Zoe turned her head away, embarrassed and wishing he would leave. “Is this really necessary?” she asked, trying to keep it from sounding like a whine. “Yeah, Dean, like, what’s up with this?” chimed in Joanne.

He looked over at the cheerleader. “Well, Joanne, it’s like, this is Zoe Ryan, and she’s like, taking newsletter/yearbook, and like, I so need a headshot for her byline, you know?” Zoe struggled to keep a straight face as the sarcasm seemed to pass right by the other girl.

“Oh, yeah, like you’re that new girl, right?” Joanne seemed pleased to have Zoe pigeonholed. “But, like, you haven’t even written anything yet. You do, like, you know, write — right?”

Zoe fought to maintain her equilibrium, determined not to burn any bridges on her first day. But it was so hard — this was an editor?! “I write very well; I’m planning on majoring in journalism, in college.” That came out more stiffly than she’d planned, and some of the others rolled their eyes.

“Hey babe, what’s happening? You wanna ditch and hook up with some real food?” called a new arrival. He was tall, obviously athletic, and apparently self-assured. This would be the infamous Kevin, Zoe guessed. She was able to verify that a moment later when he got close enough for her to read his name on the jacket. He pulled Joanne close for a kiss and then released her.

“Hey, new girl,” Kevin addressed Zoe. Could nobody in this misbegotten bunch of idiots read? Zoe wondered; her name was written all over her. “Hi, Zoe Ryan,” she offered.

“Zoe’s like, going to write, or something,” Joanne clarified, “but she hasn’t, yet. She’s like, new.”

Kevin looked down his nose at her, literally and figuratively. “Don’t sound like much of an addition to me. Save your film, dude.”

“Hey, back off, Kevin!” Dean warned him, surprising Zoe. Kevin looked surprised too, and then his expression turned mulish.

Zoe sensed things could get tense and seized on a way to diffuse the situation. “Um, Joanne,” she said, pointing, “is that spaghetti sauce on the back of your skirt? It might stain.”

The result surpassed her expectations. Joanne screamed like she was on fire, and brushed frantically at her cheer costume without finding anything. There was nothing to find, of course. Still panicking, the senior bolted from the room, towing Kevin helplessly behind her, babbling about changing and spot remover.

Dean and Zoe exchanged looks of mutual appreciation in the bemused moment of silence that followed. “She mostly sticks to the yearbook, you know — it’s nearly all about arranging pictures,” he explained. As if it pained him but he was trying to be fair, Dean added, “and she actually is more intelligent than she sounds. Mostly.”

The members of Joanne’s late coterie appeared to be deciding if they should take exception to his characterization, when the teacher finally arrived. Like the other teachers Zoe had met, Ms. Petersen was professionally dressed, wearing a double-breasted jacket over a blouse and dark slacks. Her TRAINCO identification hung from an attractive necklace, a definite upgrade from the utilitarian lanyard in Zoe’s opinion.

“Was that Joanne I heard in the hall?” the teacher queried, as students tumbled into chairs. “Do you think she’s coming back?” This time the responses were more tentative, but negative.

She sighed. “Well, then. I recognize most of you lot from last year, welcome back.” She glanced down at the papers in her hand, and looked up. “And welcome to you, Zoe, we’re glad to have you join us. In fact, you’re just what we need; I’ll get to that in a minute.”

Ms. Petersen hitched herself onto the edge of the teacher’s desk, and cycled the top page of her notes to the bottom of the stack. “I’m very excited by the opportunity we have this year. I attended several workshops over the summer and TRAINCO is very interested in helping us take both the yearbook and newsletter up several notches from what we were able to do previously. The newsletter, in particular, is going to be about more than the week’s lunch menu and music video reviews. Additionally, Hyde is the first charter school in this area, and here we are — at the first day of the first month of the first year of this transition!” She paused to make sure her students were following her.

“Now, Principal Edwards has discussed this concept with me several times, and I think it’s a great one. He thinks we should do a series of articles in the newsletter about the transition, and the highlights will be collected and reprinted in a special section in the yearbook! Joanne isn’t here to speak up for herself” — several people giggled — “but Principal Edwards has assured me that we will have complete editorial control over what we publish.”

“Here’s where you come in, Zoe.” Zoe sat up attentively. It sounded like a dream project, but she’d resigned herself to seeing the returning contributors snap up the best pieces of it. “We’d like a fresh viewpoint, one that sees Hyde High the way it is now, without being colored by memories of the past few years. You’d be perfect for that. And, I might add, both Mr. Edwards and myself are very impressed by the samples of your work we’ve seen. However, this assignment also will give you an opportunity to improve your researching and interviewing skills.”

Zoe was impressed, herself. What work? From Parker High? What piece might it have been, and how had they gotten it? Conscious she was momentarily the center of attention, Zoe tried to maintain an air of calm, self-effacing modesty. Dean looked frankly admiring, but several of the girls looked a touch hostile — not that she blamed them.

“Don’t worry, ladies, it’s going to be equally important to illustrate the changes we’re seeing this year, and how they’re benefitting the students. I promise there will be plenty of work for everyone!” Everybody loosened up a bit. “Now, without Joanne, we can’t really plan anything on the editorial side…” Ms. Petersen continued.

“…without like, redoing it all,” Dean muttered under his breath.

“…so I want you to think about short pieces we can whip into shape quickly — Friday isn’t very far away! Try to have a few proposals for tomorrow, and we’ll sort through them. Well, enough for your first day, then!” She made shooing motions at her students, “go, be free! Enjoy the day!”

As the others filed out, Zoe walked to the front. She really wanted to know what they’d read. “Ms. Petersen –”

“Please, call me Hannah,” the teacher sighed. “I appreciate professionalism, Zoe, but sometimes formality can be taken a bit too far; and I suspect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this year.”

Zoe nodded, and shyly asked, “Hannah, I was just curious… You said you’d read something of mine, and I was just wondering…”

“Oh, of course,” Hannah responded. She pulled a sheet and handed it to the teen, saying, “perhaps it’s not my place to say so, Zoe, but I’m very proud of you — and you have my sympathy.”

She looked down at a photocopy of a newspaper clipping. “Love’s Labor’s Lost/A Tragedy in Two Megapixels, by Zoe Ryan.” It was the piece she had written about Amber, trying to work through her grief and guilt. She’d never realized it had gotten picked up by a newspaper. Zoe discovered her emotional wounds were still raw, more than she had believed, and handed back the clipping. “Thanks.”

Dean didn’t let her escape. “I told you I needed a byline thumbnail shot. It’ll just take a moment.” Zoe’s hand shot unconsciously to her hair again.

“Have you no sensibility?” Hannah asked him. “Give the girl a minute. Here, Zoe, I have a brush in my purse you can borrow.”

Somewhat relieved, Zoe pulled off the hair band and started teasing out her ponytail. She’d just left it wet after swimming and it really had dried a mess. A few dozen strokes of the brush made a huge difference. Hannah helpfully provided a pocket mirror so she could check her work.

Dean took a few shots, asking Zoe to look solemn, or contemplative, and finally got her laughing when he commanded, “now, like, say cheese!” Somehow, the ending bell was ringing by the time they finished.

Zoe was still smiling, looking over her shoulder at Dean, when she exited the classroom and nearly bounced off Mariah in the hallway. It was an unsettling juxtaposition of their encounter earlier in the day.

“Why, Zoe,” Mariah quipped, “weren’t you watching where I was going?” The blonde’s blush and confusion were priceless, and Mariah savored them before Zoe mumbled something and took off rapidly down the hall. She was cute, Mariah decided, and such an easy mark for teasing.

Mariah looked through the door at Dean as he stowed something in his book bag, and mentally undressed him. He was cute too, actually more to her taste than those athletes with their big bodies and small brains. She’d read somewhere that steroids negatively affected the sexual organs, the same as she’d read that the brain was a person’s most erogenous spot.

Yes, she decided, it would be worth her time to cultivate Dean. He seemed… creative. But he’d be a long-term project, and she was tired of behaving. It had been a long time since the morning assembly.

Mariah worked her way across campus to the administration building, acknowledging greetings from acquaintances and deftly deflecting invitations from friends, and sauntered into the Principal’s office. Finally, the one place on campus with no security cameras! With a heartfelt sigh, the teen reached beneath her skirt and eased a finger past her panties and into her moist slit.

Paul strode across the office, slamming the door closed before backhanding her across the face. “I’ve told you not to do that in public!”

She was stunned that he’d dared to touch her. No boy had ever treated her like that! Her cheek stung from the slap, but Mariah realized she was wetter than she had been a moment before. Men wanted the same things as boys, didn’t they?

Aroused, Mariah dropped to her knees and reached for Paul’s zipper. As she expected, the hypocrite made no move to stop her while she fished his hardening cock out of his clothing and enveloped it in her mouth.

She took justifiable pride in her technique, alternating licks to the glans with sucking, then running her teeth lightly down his length as she took his tool all the way into her throat. He came quickly, pumping his sticky seed into Mariah’s mouth while she milked him with one hand.

The conversation resumed as Paul zipped himself up and Mariah cleaned the edge of her mouth with a finger. “We can’t risk this sort of thing here, Mariah. You know exposure would be very bad for all of us.”

Mariah pouted. “This from the genius that assigns a reporter to investigate himself?”

“What?” She’d managed to startle him.

“Zoe — the new girl. You know, from this morning? I just ran into her outside Ms. Petersen’s room.”

“Oh, her. Perfect, don’t you think?” Paul warmed up as he considered it. “You said it yourself, she won’t say anything. She didn’t say anything at the last school. We can spoon-feed her anything we want. There’s nothing like a little good publicity, especially when it comes from an ‘independent’ source.”

“You aren’t worried she’ll find anything?” Mariah asked doubtfully.

Paul laughed softly. “Not a chance. She’s new, doesn’t know anybody. I’ve seen her records — she’s a mouse.” He paused, and then continued, “if she gets lucky, we’ll sit on her.”

“I’m not so sure…” Mariah began, but he cut her off.

“I am. She’ll be attending your little parties soon enough. Now get out of here and remember — keep it clean while you’re on campus. I mean it!”

Zoe held Claudia’s backpack and jacket on her lap while the older girl squirmed on the school bus bench beside her.

“This fucking dress code is going to drive me crazy,” the senior declared. Somehow she managed to remove the (black) bra and extract it from underneath the blouse. “Their space-age scientifically fitted bra is a little too snug for the ring,” Claudia complained, flicking it casually through the blouse.

Zoe tore away her gaze. “I thought the bras only came in white.”

Claudia laughed. “They do — I dyed it myself. That was a bitch of a job. Didn’t you see the posting they had up by lunchtime? ‘Unauthorized alterations of clothing are not compliant with the Hyde High dress code.’ ” She studied the bra. “Well, I guess I’m not going to wear this again. They flat-ass told me not to come back with it, and it’s too uncomfortable to wear if I don’t have to. It was worth the money to screw with those fuckers’ minds, though — I swear I thought one guy was going to have a fucking heart attack.”

She eyed the blonde as she re-took possession of her jacket and bag. “Hey, Barbie, what size do you wear? 34B? This is yours if you want it.”

Privately, Zoe thought the bras were very comfortable, better than anything she’d owned previously. They were completely seamless, feather light, and very soft on the skin. She’d tried jumping up and down at home, and they seemed to provide good support. “I could pay you for it,” she offered, thinking Claudia might need the money.

“Thanks, but consider it a fashion victim CARE package,” Claudia demurred, and flipped the undergarment to her. “Now, tell me about what you did while I was fighting the oppressive administration.”

“Well, you will not believe what happened at the assembly!” Zoe’s voice lowered to just above a whisper, inaudible except to her neighbor. “You know Mariah Haskell?”

Claudia snorted. “Everybody knows Mariah. I know she has her nose up the ass of her mother and every fucking teacher in the joint. And a lot of students have their noses up her ass, just because her mom’s a big wheel. Big party girl. Yeah, I know her. So?”

“Well, she was jilling off at the assembly, I saw it!”

“You’re shitting me, right?” Zoe shook her head. “Rumor has it that girl has been around the block with more than a few boys, but that’s out there, even for her. I mean, the thought police peed themselves because I wore a fucking black bra, for chrissakes. They’d execute her.”

“That’s just it!” Zoe hissed. “I kind of overheard them later, Mariah and Principal Edwards. He was chewing her out, but get this — he was pissed because she got caught, not because she did it in the first place! I think there’s something wrong with him.”

It was Claudia’s turn to shake her head. “I think there’s something wrong with you, Zoe. No fucking way did that happen. You actually saw this?”

“Well, not exactly. I was in the hall, and they were on the other side of the door. But I could hear them, I swear!”

Claudia remained unconvinced. “I think something got lost in the translation. Principal Edwards acts like he has a stick up his ass, and the whole fucking town’s watching this place. If Mariah actually did that, I’d be fucking furious whether somebody saw her or not. Now c’mon, that was your entire day? Weren’t there any boys?”

Zoe hated to let the point drop, but she couldn’t explain or describe what her intuition was telling her. Perhaps she had misheard the conversation. “I did get this big assignment for the newsletter. And there was this boy, Dean Killian …” She continued her story as the two disembarked from the bus and walked down the block to their houses.

They stopped in front of Claudia’s house. “Zoe,” advised the older girl, “you have your work cut out for you. That newsletter shit is idiotic, but I get that you like to write. But Dean? You can’t advertise in this” — she did a mock curtsy, indicating their uniforms — “and you are way too passive. You’re going to have to step up your game if you want to hook up with him!”

Zoe sputtered denials. “I don’t want to hook up with anybody! We’re just in the same class and he seems nice. And I want him to like me for who I am, not some made-up front.”

“It’s your life, Barbie,” Claudia warned, unlocking her door. “There are 300 channels on the TV — are you the one he’s going to watch?”

October

Ken Ryan was packing for another road trip. “I feel like I’m going to end up like Art Babbitt,” he joked.

Becky looked up from where she was folding a shirt and, laughing, replied, “oh, I hope not — we’d forget what you look like! And you’d miss all of Zoe’s essays.”

Zoe smiled, buoyed by her parents’ evident pride and love for her. She flopped on her back at the head of their bed and stared at the ceiling. “I think I’m getting essayed out. There aren’t that many ways to make a school sound fresh and exciting, and of course the people I talk to say how great everything is now.”

“Did you ever get that interview with Principal Edwards?” Ken asked.

“No, he’s always too busy. I mean, he gives me time, but it’s always 5 or 10 minutes of what he wants to talk about, and then some crisis comes up before I can ask him anything.” Zoe hadn’t mentioned her inexplicable dislike for the man, or that it caused her to push for access to him less than might otherwise have been the case. “He keeps telling me he likes my articles about the other students or the new campus services. I’m pretty sure I’m starting to annoy him.”

“Don’t let him get away from you, honey,” her father advised. “The buck stops at his desk. He should be able to explain to you and your readers why things get done the way they do.”

“Exactly,” his daughter agreed. “Like why TRAINCO decided to get into the school business, or what Principal Edwards did for them before this job.”

“Yes,” Becky chimed in, “and I’d dearly like to know how TRAINCO can afford all these bells and whistles they lavish on you children. I swear you look more like an executive than Ken does!”

Zoe was so accustomed to the uniform she didn’t even think about it anymore. It felt natural. Now that it was a little cooler, she was wearing leggings (only in approved colors, of course!) and flats, which did make her look a little more professional. Of course, you could put lipstick on a pig… Thoughtlessly, she related, “it’s an illusion. Claudia can remove her bra without undoing her blouse, and she does it every day on the bus because it hurts her nipple ring.”

Becky was appalled. “I knew that girl was a tramp! I need to have a talk with her father…” She was cut off by her ringing cell phone. “Good morning, Mrs. Allen. Yes, I’m fine.” She whispered to her audience, “another crisis awaits,” and headed down the hall to her office. “Yes, I think we could move the occupancy date. Let me find my notes…”

“You know, Zoe,” her dad broke the silence, “good journalists find and write good stories. A great journalist knows not every story needs or deserves to be told, and that she needs to choose intelligently when to speak up or when to remain silent. It can be hard to find the balance.”

“I know,” she sighed into the pillow held over her face.

“That said,” he continued, “do you think you can do a story on Claudia’s trick? I know a couple of guys at work that would like to be able to do that.”

“Daddy!” Zoe giggled, and threw the pillow at him. She sat up and sighed. “No Claudia. Today, I have to talk to Mariah Haskell; her mother’s on the council, so she actually went to some of the proposal presentations and site visits last summer.”

Ken zipped up the roller bag and glanced at his daughter. “One girl talking to another at school? Try not to make it sound too hard, okay? Or is there something about this Mariah?”

Mariah was at the bottom of Zoe’s list of favorite people, just before Principal Edwards. She’d tried to steer clear as much as possible, because it seemed like everything Mariah said or did left her off balance. Worse, Zoe didn’t like the way she’d seen the other girl looking at Dean once or twice. She tried to put it in terms that wouldn’t alarm her father. “She’s just, I don’t know, from another planet or something. She’s really popular and beautiful and hangs out with this social crowd. I’m still an outsider.”

Perceptively, Ken observed, “you can’t keep beating yourself up forever, Zoe. You’re beautiful, and I bet you’d be popular too if you came out of your shell a little. And frankly, beauty and popularity are skin-deep and transient. Just be yourself and the right kind of people will find you.” He kissed her on the forehead and picked up his bag. “In the meantime, if Mariah saw some presentations last summer, maybe she’ll remember something useful about those questions you want to ask the principal. If not, you’ll find another approach. I have the utmost confidence in your persistence.”

Dean Killian took another drink from his water bottle and played with the strap on his camera case. He’d agreed to meet Zoe and Mariah at the yearbook room during lunch to do some background pictures, and both girls were late. That was no surprise for Mariah, whose elastic notion of time revolved around her own convenience, but Dean had learned over the past month that Zoe was focused, professional and punctual. If she wasn’t here, it probably meant the pre-calc test in fourth hour wasn’t going so well — Mr. Costanz was known for giving students extra time if they needed it.

Mariah flounced in the door, looking pleased to see him, and more pleased when she saw that Zoe was missing. “Dean! Just what I needed — a little quiet time with you. Why haven’t we hooked up before now?”

This was so not what he needed. Dean was still undecided about Zoe, but Mariah was clearly way too high-maintenance for him. Why she’d started paying attention to him now after ignoring his existence for the past two years was beyond his understanding.

“Um, I thought we could do pictures now. I’m sure Zoe will be here in just a minute.” He held his camera between them like a shield.

“If you like,” she acquiesced. Mariah dumped her bag on the floor beside the front desk and set her water bottle on the desktop. “How would you like me? Like this?” She blew him a kiss and pouted her lips, holding the pose.

It seemed easier to humor her; Dean knew he could always delete the extra images from the memory card later. He snapped a shot.

“How about this?” She leaned on Hannah’s desk, as if reading something. It didn’t escape him that she bent at the waist, keeping both legs straight so that the curve of her rear was highlighted by her pinstripe skirt. “Does this make look my butt look big?”

Dean realized he’d been looking a little too long. “No, not at all,” he replied quickly, and then snapped off a couple shots.

“Maybe a Colbert look!” Mariah straightened, facing partially away from him, crossed her arms, and turned her upper body back to the left to look at him. Plainly she’d left the top several buttons of the blouse unfastened, and it gapped to reveal the upper curve of her breast and the regulation bra covering it. Her lips were parted, the tip of her tongue just visible.

The camera recorded her for posterity. Dean knew there was no way Hannah would let this picture be used for anything, but that wouldn’t stop him from taking it home and adding it to his jerk-off stash. To cover his nervousness, Dean commented, “you seem, um, to have loosened up since last year.”

“Maybe a little,” Mariah responded, clearly appreciative of his attention. She sat on the edge of the desk, like Ms. Petersen did, but — most unlike the teacher — proceeded to slowly cross one leg over the other. “I’d be happy to show you exactly how much I’ve loosened up…” A flash of pale flesh suggested she was wearing thigh-highs instead of regulation leggings. She picked up her bottle, delicately placed the tip of the tube between her lips, and drained about half of it in one slow, steady action.

Dean had forgotten the camera in his hand, which was pointing vaguely in the direction of the floor. It was hard to believe this was even happening to him.

“We could have a lot of fun together,” Mariah continued. Setting down the bottle, she leaned towards him, breasts pressed forward, and absentmindedly twirled a dark auburn lock about a finger. “I know how to have a good time, not like some hung-up sexless Lois Lane wannabe. Think about it.” Her eyes dipped meaningfully towards his straining crotch, then lifted and her expression changed. “Oh, Zoe. We were just talking about you.”

The blonde stood just inside the door, a frozen expression on her face.

Dean did her the courtesy of not trying to pretend he’d been taking a picture. He wished again Zoe wasn’t so hard to read. Everybody at the newsletter had read the story she’d written, and he understood why she worked so hard to maintain a distance around herself. He genuinely liked her and thought she was interesting, but he couldn’t tell if Zoe felt the same way about him.

He kind of thought she did, but if Zoe wasn’t interested, Dean didn’t want to pressure her. Now, he was sure she’d overhead Mariah’s comment and was hurt — but whether it was because it was just mean, or because she thought Mariah was playing for him, he couldn’t figure.

The interview was a shambles. Dean took a few photos as they talked, and figured one would be good enough — although none were great. Zoe clearly was off her game, unable to rise to the challenge of directing the conversation or keeping Mariah focused. Bizarrely, at some points it even looked to him like Mariah was flirting with Zoe. It was like watching a kitten play with a yarn ball, but the ball — Zoe — gamely endured the entire session.

“Aaaaaaah!” Zoe screamed after Mariah left, “I didn’t learn anything!” Dean thought she might cry, but she took a long draught from her water bottle instead. Clearly frustrated, she turned to him. “I don’t get it. I don’t understand her at all. Do you know what she’s thinking?”

“I thought I did, last year, but now…” Dean shrugged.

“There is something weird going on around here, I can feel it,” Zoe muttered under her breath. She started chewing on her lip.

“So, you going to Spots?” Dean asked. That had been Mariah’s parting advice.

“Spots” was in some ways TRAINCO’s most spectacular showcase feature, yet it also was one Zoe had conspicuously avoided. Basically a club, it was touted as a monitored, safe, alcohol- and drug-free location for the students to unwind and blow off steam. Dean hadn’t visited either, since clubbing didn’t appeal to him.

Zoe nodded nervously. “Yeah, I guess. Probably Friday.” It was clear she wasn’t excited about it. “Have you been there yet?”

“Nope.”

She aimed a pleading look at Dean. “Don’t you think it might be a good idea to get some pictures there?”

“Now that you mention it, yes.” For once, Zoe looked pretty transparent. He smiled. “I could do that Friday, while you’re talking to people.”

“Okay!”

“Meet you there?”

“Eight o’clock sharp.” She looked as pleased as Dean felt.

Zoe paced between her bed and closet again, and double-checked her appearance in the mirror. Knit top, nice jeans, flip-flops with the rhinestones on them. Hair clean and blow-dried for a change. A little lipstick. It was definitely not the school uniform, and she thought she’d gotten the look she wanted for Dean — attractive but not trampy.

Wondering again what was holding up her parents, Zoe flipped through the stack of research material piled on the foot of her bed. On the face of it, she couldn’t decide if Spots was an insanely great idea, or just insane. The idea of a place where their kids could party safely appealed to a lot of parents, her own included. Restricting access to just students gave it a bit of cachet and kept out the stalkers and freaks. Reminded by that thought, Zoe grabbed her ID and slung it over her head. On Fridays and Saturdays, she knew, there was live music and Spots stayed open late.

On the other hand, it had to be costing an insane amount of money to operate. The building had been erected from scratch in the corner of the campus that had housed the smallest of the athletic fields, and reputedly boasted a decor as good as any “real” nightclub. When one considered the clientele was restricted to a maximum of a few hundred patrons, made no money on non-existent liquor sales, had a modest cover, and charged cost on food and beverages, Zoe couldn’t conceive of a rational executive that would approve the business plan. It was one of the questions she’d been itching to ask Principal Edwards.

When the phone rang, Zoe had it on the first ring. “Mom? Where are you?”

“I’m sorry, hon,” her mother’s voice echoed on the handset. “Your father’s flight has been delayed another hour by that weather back east. We won’t be home for awhile yet.”

It was terrible news. Zoe squirmed at the thought of standing up Dean. She squirmed even more as she thought about what had happened the last time she’d been late for an appointment with him. Movement next door gave her an idea. “Don’t worry mom, I’ll get a lift. I’ll see you guys when I get home.”

“Have a good time, Zoe, but be home by eleven! We love you!” It had proved impossible to convince her parents this outing wasn’t a date.

“Loveyoubye!” She dropped the phone on the cradle and ran downstairs. A few moments later she was ringing the doorbell next door.

Claudia answered, wearing a black stretch miniskirt over black hose, a black silk blouse, leather jacket, and black knee boots. Long sparkling earrings and the absence of heavy makeup saved her from the Goth look. She was adjusting a chain link belt, trying to get it to drape properly on her hips.

“Claudia, can you give me a lift?”

The senior took in Zoe’s outfit. “To where, Sunday school?”

“No, to Spots.” Zoe tried to look deserving and inoffensive.

Predictably, Claudia rolled her eyes with disdain. “Oh My God, it’s worse than Sunday school — it’s fucking Romper Room.”

Zoe hated to beg, but Claudia was her only chance. “Please? I’m supposed to meet Dean there at eight.”

Claudia’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Barbie, a date? Why doesn’t Ken pick you up here?”

The blonde didn’t think she could be more embarrassed. “It’s not a date — it’s for the newsletter.”

With an overdone wink, Claudia relented. “Oh, all right, what the fuck. I guess the real world can live without me for one fucking night.” Satisfied with the belt, she fitted a ring into her nose, giving it the appearance of being pierced. “Luckily for you, I was almost done, so we have time to fix your outfit!”

Helplessly, Zoe found herself dragged back across the yard and upstairs to her bedroom. For some reason, she was more self-conscious in front of Claudia than she was changing at school for swimming, but soon Zoe was standing in her underwear while her friend rummaged in her closet. Claudia looked at the boyshorts without comment, but laughed when she recognized the black TRAINCO bra. She handed Zoe a vibrant blue slip dress, but frowned as she looked around. “On second thought, bikinis would look better with that bra in case you get lucky.” Zoe’s face flamed. “Don’t you have any fucking shoes?”

“Sure,” Zoe answered as she shimmied into the dress, but Claudia had disappeared down the hall. “Claudia!” she yelped, teetering as she hauled up the replacement underwear and raced after her friend to her parents’ room. “We shouldn’t be doing this!” she protested.

“We aren’t; you are,” responded the other girl. “Here, try these.” She set a pair of neutral pumps with 2-1/2 heels on the floor in front of Zoe.

“Mom doesn’t let me wear heels,” Zoe protested again, but she was stepping gingerly into them before she finished speaking.

“Mmmm. I trust you weren’t planning on dancing?” Claudia asked, and nodded when Zoe shook her head. “I thought as much. Can you walk in these? I’m not blowing my street cred by having you fucking trip.”

Zoe took a few steps, then tried a few more confident strides and almost walked out of her right shoe. “I think they’re a little large.”

“No, you’re okay. Just remember these aren’t those fucking uniform flats, and take things slow, right?” She assessed Zoe again, and suddenly took off her belt. “Here, you need this more than I do tonight.”

Zoe fastened it about her waist and adjusted it like she’d seen Claudia do earlier. “Good, Jade?”

“Damn good, Barbie. Let’s roll!”

The girls had no trouble finding Dean outside the entrance, although Zoe nearly stumbled at his expression when he caught sight of them. A flash of their badges, a little cash, and they were inside and looking around with wide eyes.

A long bar ran down one side of the room. A bartender was preparing frozen drinks, presumably non-alcoholic, and the shelves behind it were stocked with varieties of bottled water and juices instead of the customary liquor. A dance floor crowded with gyrating students occupied the bulk of the area. It was ringed with tables and chairs, mostly pushed back towards the walls, and a stage at the far end provided space for the band. They were in mid-set and Zoe could feel the bass beat in her teeth.

Dean snapped a few pictures, and then went to the bar to get drinks. As they moved further along its length, the girls realized the room extended around behind the bar and was larger than it looked from in front.

There were a couple pool tables, and (between downbeats) the faint chime of pinball machines or video games echoed from the side wall.

Zoe’s attention was grabbed by the pair of raised round platforms flanking the stage. They had low railings and stairs leading up to them, and bright spotlights illuminating them. “Wow,” Dean shouted, as he returned with a trio of glasses of sparkling water.

Kevin and Joanne were dancing on one of the spotlight platforms; or rather Kevin was shifting his weight between feet while Joanne wriggled in front of him and tossed her hair from time to time.

As they continued to make their circuit of the room, Zoe realized they’d lost Claudia — the brunette was still back at the corner of bar, watching the dancers. The blonde shrugged and moved on, catching up with Dean as he took a few more pictures.

The music built to a crescendo and then ended with a squeal of electric guitars, as the audience clapped its appreciation. “Hey,” Dean nudged her, “there’s Principal Edwards.”

The man had just emerged from a “staff only” door and looked the same as he did in school, fastidious suit and all. Zoe angled to intercept him, Dean trailing behind her.

Whatever he might have been thinking, Edwards smiled for the camera and posed for a shot with Zoe. She started into her list of prepared questions, but Jana had finished rounding up Joanne and some of the other cheerleaders, and a raucous karaoke session started, drowning out all conversation. “Later!” the administrator shouted in her ear, and then he made his way behind the bar.

Zoe was disappointed, but not surprised, and brightened when Dean gestured that he wanted a picture of her alone. She felt good and knew she looked good, an opinion he apparently shared. When Claudia reappeared and appropriated the camera from Dean to take a picture of him and Zoe together, the night felt like a complete success.

“For a place with no fucking booze, this joint rocks!” Claudia told Zoe later. Zoe could only agree, and continued her rapt people-watching. Between the relaxed dress code and the party atmosphere, it was like night and day. As they circulated, Zoe kept a discreet eye on Dean and was encouraged to note he ducked several advances from other girls. She thought about asking him to dance herself, but wasn’t confident enough of her balance to risk it.

Eventually, the drinks finally caught up with Zoe. After a quick explanation to Dean, the two girls headed for the restrooms while he prepared to snap a few more pictures of the band setting up for their next set.

Despite the evidently lavish funding provided by TRAINCO, some things didn’t change. Zoe reflected on the inequities in life as she and Claudia reached the end of a long line of other girls waiting for the facilities. There was no line at all for the men’s room, a situation which didn’t escape Claudia’s attention either.

“Fuck this!” the older girl exclaimed. “All we need are stalls; I don’t care what picture is on the fucking door!” Accompanied by whispered speculation and laughter, Claudia hauled Zoe out of line and propelled them both through the door into the men’s room.

Zoe had never been in a boy’s bathroom before, but had heard of urinals and thought she knew what to expect. Spots, again, defied those expectations — and, apparently, Claudia’s too. The bathroom was fairly large, and finished to a level that complimented the rest of the club. There were a few stalls, against the rear wall, and sinks on either side. But rather than individual urinals, the center of the bathroom was occupied by a large basin. Perhaps half a dozen boys surrounded it, peeing into the communal trough; the sound of spattering urine echoed loudly in the silence that ensued as the boys noticed their presence.

“Looking for something?” asked Kevin Delacourt from the far side of the basin. Zoe felt her face flame as she took in the sight of the multiple exposed penises. Kevin angled his dick upward, generating a tall yellow arc with his powerful stream, and then held his hand aside so there was nothing obstructing their view of his cock. “I have something you might like,” he joked suggestively.

Claudia shifted as if she were about to say something, but it was too much for Zoe. With a death grip on the other girl’s arm, she retreated to the hallway. The closing door cut off the boys’ raucous laughter, but Zoe’s relief was momentary. Jana, Joanne, and the other cheerleaders had arrived just in time to witness their escape.

“O.M.G.!” squealed Jana, just as Joanne exclaimed, “You two are like, such sluts!” Zoe’s bladder was getting insistent and her mind went blank.

Claudia rose to the challenge. “Fuck you, bitches! I’m no fucking slut, and neither is Zoe. We have too much taste.” She aimed a condescending look at Joanne. “And your boy Kevin isn’t somebody I’d be bragging about. You could do better.” That didn’t exactly square with Zoe’s impression, but she wasn’t planning to say anything at that point.

Interestingly, both cheerleaders seemed equally offended by Claudia’s jibe. “As if he’d ever look twice at a whore like you!” Jana hissed. Joanne appeared to be drawing breath to issue an even more scathing retort when the door behind them opened and Kevin joined the gathering.

“Hey, babe, whassup?” he drawled. “Who’s a whore?” he asked Jana.

“Claudia and Zoe! Did you see them?!” Zoe noticed the line seemed to have evaporated and edged sideways towards the women’s room, but the whole group of girls moved with her.

Kevin laughed. “Oh, yeah! I saw ’em, alright! Not as well as they saw me, though!” He aimed the next barb at the easier prey. “Wanna fix that oversight, hey, Zoe? Maybe do a little ‘research’?”

Now the cheerleaders looked daggers at Zoe. Her stammered protests were ignored and Kevin laughed again as Claudia hustled her into the bathroom; they were quickly followed by the other girls. This room had a more familiar layout, but Zoe’s spirits drooped when she realized all of the stalls were occupied.

Worse, the cheerleaders had strength in numbers and blockaded the stalls. Two opened up; the emerging girls took one look at the scene before them and made hasty exits.

“I think you should, like, just watch, since that’s like, what you’re into,” Joanne sneered. She and Jana sauntered past the cordon into the stalls while Zoe looked on helplessly.

“Fuck you,” muttered Claudia. She’d been scanning their surroundings, and moved to appropriate a pair of abandoned drinks sitting next to the sinks. The brunette dumped their contents into a sink before handing one of the glasses to Zoe. “Here; I learned this at a concert.” Before the blank stares of the other girls, Claudia squatted slightly, adjusted herself and began peeing into the glass held between her legs.

Zoe was as shocked as everyone else, but her bladder was demanding attention and the sound of liquid filling Claudia’s glass danced on her nerves. Trying to maintain a brave front, she hiked up her skirt far enough to reach up and tug her panties aside. Thank God Claudia had convinced her to change them. The weight of the other girls’ eyes inhibited her a moment longer, and then she began gushing into the glass. Her initial aim was almost off, but Zoe corrected immediately and her glass filled rapidly with nothing worse than wet fingers.

Alerted by the exclamations of their friends, Jana and Joanne burst out of their stalls. Curious girls peered from the other stalls too. They were in time to see Zoe’s last trickle; Claudia already had straightened herself up.

“I can’t believe you peed in a glass!” Jana shrilled, stating the obvious. “That is so dirty! O. M. G.! Somebody was drinking out of that!”

If her companion was stunned to immobility, Joanne evidently was not. “You are like the biggest skanks in the history of Hyde High!” she announced, marching towards them. “Like, my dog is toilet-trained better than you!”

Claudia’s response, in contrast, was tightly controlled. She hurled the contents of her glass at Joanne, soaking the cheerleader’s face and the front of her dress. “Ooops,” she deadpanned.

Joanne screamed in shock as the urine stung her eyes and swung a hand reflexively. Nobody was more surprised than Claudia as the slap connected with her nose. The now-empty glass clattered to the floor, but luckily didn’t break and rolled harmlessly beneath one of the sinks. A few drops of blood marked the spot where the faux nose ring had been torn away.

“Bitch!” snarled Claudia, and she slapped Joanne across the face, rocking the other girl back. Things were happening quickly and Zoe felt they were on the verge of losing control of the situation. With a show of confidence she didn’t feel, she looked Jana back into the circle of onlookers, hefting her own glass menacingly in warning.

The next exchange happened too quickly to follow. Joanne tried a punch that Claudia intercepted and turned, pulling the cheerleader into a lock that left her pinned with her back to her opponent. Enraged, Joanne tried to stomp her heel into Claudia’s foot. The pair fell, off-balance, and rolled. The tangle stabilized with Claudia sitting astride Joanne and pinning her arms. The cheerleader struggled a minute longer, but it became clear to everybody that Claudia held the decisive position. Both girls were breathing heavily and had bright eyes.

“Hey, come on, somebody’s gonna notice and we’ll all get in trouble,” an anonymous onlooker pleaded. Zoe remained focused on her battle of wills with Jana and couldn’t identify the speaker. She liked the sentiment, however. “Claudia, you’ve made your point, let’s go.”

The brunette leaned forward over the cheerleader. “Don’t start something you aren’t ready to have me fucking finish,” she warned Joanne with quiet menace. Unexpectedly, she darted forward and deposited a quick kiss on the other girl’s lips. While Joanne froze in surprise, Claudia quickly rose to her feet and backed away. “Thanks for the dance, Joanne!”

With that, Claudia swept majestically from the bathroom. Zoe hurried to keep pace with her friend while guarding against any last-minute rushes. The blonde heaved a huge sigh of relief as they gained the hallway without further interference. “Oh, here, Kevin,” she bubbled, handing her glass to him as they passed. Zoe didn’t pause to chat or see the boy’s puzzled look as he examined the gift. “I think I want to go home now, Claudia,” she continued.

“That sounds like a good idea,” the older girl agreed. “Where’s your boy Dean?” They both scanned the crowd as they moved towards the entrance. Improbably, they located him on the dance floor. “Mariah,” Zoe vocalized in dismay.

Dean was dancing self-consciously and awkwardly, but Zoe doubted a single observer with the exception of herself took any notice of him at all. A stab of envy and jealousy pierced Zoe’s heart as she took in his partner.

Mariah was wearing a pair of bias-cut plaid… well, “shorts” seemed like a generous term. They were skimpier than Zoe’s usual underwear. So low-cut they barely had any hip to hang on and didn’t come even half-way from her crotch to navel; so short they had no inseam to speak of; they fit so perfectly they gave the impression both of being painted on and yet about to slide down her legs. They made Claudia’s lawn-mowing cutoffs look staid. She wore a small denim vest, fastened loosely enough it was clear there was nothing beneath it, and clogs with heels high enough to bring her to Dean’s height.

If she’d been standing straight, that was. Instead, Mariah was using Dean as if he were a pole, grasping his tie for balance, and wriggling her ass and groin up and down his leg. As they watched, she undulated down into a squat and pressed her opened mouth against his bulging crotch. It was outrageous behavior, even for what they’d seen at Spots, even for Mariah, but a part of Zoe would have given anything to trade places with her.

“Now that’s fucking dancing,” Claudia murmured in massive understatement. Zoe tore her gaze away long enough to see if anybody was going to do anything about Mariah. If it was clear that every adult in the place had noticed her, it was equally clear that none of them seemed inclined to interrupt her. Mariah was dry-humping Dean again, and kissing him now, damn her!

“What?” Zoe realized Claudia was talking to her.

“I said, does Dean have a car? Did he drive here tonight?” the brunette repeated.

“Um, yes,” the blonde struggled to focus, “I’m pretty sure he did. Why?”

“He’s going to drive you home. C’mon, Barbie, we’re going to cut in on them.” Claudia started cutting her way through the crowd. She added, “you’re gonna fucking owe me for this one!”

Zoe just had time for a sickly reflection on the perils of getting what one wished for. “Make it look good,” Claudia advised, and then tapped Mariah on the shoulder. “Excuse me, can we cut in?”

Startled, the sultry tease looked over her shoulder at them with dawning calculation. Claudia peeled her away from Dean, simultaneously pulling Mariah into a close embrace and pushing Zoe towards him. Out of the corner of her eye, Zoe saw Claudia cover Mariah’s mouth with a kiss while sweeping a now-free hand down to grab her plaid-covered butt. Then she was clinging to Dean and trying not to fall out of her shoes.

“Zoe, I –” Dean started to stammer. Riding an adrenaline rush and other ill-defined desires, Zoe summoned her courage and kissed him. He responded instantly, and a moment later, she was parting her lips to admit his insistent tongue. It was hard to remember Claudia’s advice, but Zoe pressed against Dean, found her balance, and tried a slow shimmy. It felt horribly awkward, but Dean’s hands pulled her into him. His cock was stiff against her hip; it seemed incredibly large and Zoe thought she could feel it throb through the layers of fabric separating them. That throb seemed to travel straight to her belly. She had to come up for breath.

“We need to leave,” she gasped. “God, yes,” he agreed.

Still arm in arm, they moved for the entrance. Zoe kept her eyes fixed on the doorway, distracted by the feel of Dean against her side. They passed Kevin and Joanne, but the couple had no words for them, attention fixed on the dance floor behind them. Joanne seemed to be slowly grinding her ass into Kevin’s crotch. Zoe resisted the temptation to turn and look.

The fresh outdoor air revived Zoe and buoyed her to the point it seemed her feet might leave the ground. “Oh God! Is it like that every night?” Zoe asked, as they walked unsteadily towards the student parking lot.

“Hell if I know,” Dean admitted. “It was my first visit, too. Although I must say it seemed a little wilder than the rumors I’d heard.” He turned to her. “Or Mariah was a little wilder than the rumors I’d heard. If you hadn’t rescued me, I think I would’ve been eaten alive!” He kissed her again, more gently but still passionately.

Daring, Zoe reached down and found Dean still hard. “Is this for her, or me?” she asked, hesitantly, trying to read his face in the near darkness.

“You, Zoe,” he replied. “Maybe you couldn’t see it, and you weren’t close enough to feel it, but I’ve been nursing this bad boy since I laid eyes on you this evening.” He shrugged. “I won’t lie and say Mariah wasn’t — interesting — but she’s not the reason I’m here tonight. And before you say it, neither is the newsletter.” Dean ran his hands up from her waist to cup her breasts and Zoe felt her insides turn gooey.

It felt, again, like she was losing control of events. Very reluctantly, Zoe moved Dean’s hands down and held them in her own. “I’m not the kind of girl who hooks up on the first date. Or whatever. I really like you, Dean, but…”

He laughed, very briefly. “No, it’s okay. I guessed that about you. You being so outgoing and all.” After a pause, Dean continued in a more embarrassed tone, “I’m sorry, but I think my cock is going to break off if I try sitting down without doing something about it. I don’t know what’s up; it’s never felt like this before.”

Zoe knew her mother would tell her to walk away, and she didn’t want to think about her father’s reaction if he heard this conversation. A day ago she hadn’t even conceived of being in this situation. She’d already made it clear she wouldn’t have sex with Dean. But… She still felt tight, wound up inside. The knowledge that he was hard, harder than he’d ever been in his life, because of her, excited Zoe. She’d never seen a penis — well, before this evening — and never a hard one, close up. Deeper inside, there was fear, too; Mariah wouldn’t hesitate to help out, and everybody said boys thought with their dicks, even if Dean didn’t seem like that type. One close call tonight was enough. “I’ll help,” she whispered.

Pushing gently, Zoe backed Dean up against the adjacent car and stepped out of her mother’s shoes. The asphalt was pleasantly cool against her bare feet as she knelt in front of the trembling boy. “You don’t have to do this,” he offered.

“I know,” she smiled, and unzipped his fly. Zoe fumbled a bit before she succeeded in working the head free of his underwear, and then paused to marvel at the sight before her. Dean’s cock jutted out at a sharp upward angle, looking angry and red and simply enormous, although she supposed it was not unusually large. The tip glistened in the faint illumination of a distant light, and the shaft bobbed just slightly with the beating of his heart.

Tentatively, Zoe touched it with a fingertip, and then ran her finger down its length, watching it jerk as Dean sucked in his breath. “Geez, Zoe, don’t toy with me,” he hissed.

Abashed, she didn’t want to tell him she had no experience. Summoning all of the memories of overheard locker room conversations she had, Zoe reached out and grabbed him more firmly. She squeezed and it felt like she was wringing out a washcloth into her panties. Her nipples felt painfully stiff inside her bra. Marveling at its rigidity and feel, she began stroking up and down its length with increasing confidence, encouraged by Dean’s quiet feedback.

Suddenly, and before she expected it, Dean’s cock began pulsing in her grasp and copious jets of thick spunk sprayed from the tip to decorate the door of the truck in the adjacent space. Zoe couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, losing her rhythm and catching some of the last jet on her hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean you; it’s just that the car…” she clarified. “You’re — magnificent.”

He was, still standing tall, a bit of semen ever-so-slowly working its way down his length. “Um, isn’t it supposed to get soft again?”

Dean choked out a faint laugh as he caught his breath. “Yeah, theoretically. I guess you got me a little too worked up tonight, that’s all.”

Zoe examined the smear on her finger. It looked and felt almost like warm icing. Nearly all of those overheard locker room conversations had agreed that semen was nasty, unpalatable stuff. This didn’t look that bad, or smell bad. It smelled faintly inviting, actually. She sucked the side of her finger clean and found the taste left her wanting more.

She paused, considering. A voice in her head reminded Zoe that only bad girls gave blow jobs, and only nasty girls ate cum. Zoe didn’t think she was a bad girl; this wasn’t like real sex or anything. Still, it was hard to consider herself a good girl when she was kneeling in front of a stiff cock and creaming her panties at the thought of milking it with her mouth.

Zoe pulled Dean towards her, spearing him between her parted lips. A little excess enthusiasm nearly triggered her gag reflex and she backed off a bit as Dean looked down at her with concern. More carefully, she resumed cleaning the gooey spend from his shaft with her tongue. Dean’s cock throbbed inside her mouth, and every hitch in his breathing flooded her pussy. She experimented, determining what resulted in the strongest reaction, and what was painful or too intense for him.

Both of them were too inexperienced to realize that Zoe was a natural cocksucker. In a few minutes, Dean was slamming Zoe’s head down on his groin repeatedly and she was alternating between powerful sucking and running her teeth down his glans, gagging concerns forgotten. Zoe furtively shifted a hand to her own needy sex, stroking the swollen bud of her clitoris with a single probing finger.

When Dean’s cock began pulsing in her mouth, Zoe pulled back slightly so she could bath her taste buds in his spunk. She was so excited that only the slightest additional pressure from her finger was needed to send her into her own crashing climax. She teetered, clinging to his legs, and lost his cock, which left a trail of hot scum across one cheek.

“Wow,” they exclaimed simultaneously a moment later, when they could speak. Zoe rose to her feet unsteadily, wiping her face with a finger and then cleaning it in her mouth. Dean leaned back against the car; he twitched at the sensuous vision before him but his erection was flagging.

The pair kissed again, and this time Zoe was not shy about probing Dean’s mouth with her tongue, as he was not shy about copping a feel of her dripping underwear.

“Hey,” Zoe protested, half seriously, “I told you I’m not that kind of girl.”

Dean let her redirect his hand away from her body, and proceeded to zip himself up. Responding to her humor, he protested, “thank God. I don’t know how I’d survive the night if you were. Not that I’m complaining, of course — you were incredible!”

Suddenly shy, as the events of the last few minutes replayed themselves in her mind, Zoe agreed. “I’m not complaining either.” She stepped gingerly back into her mother’s shoes. “It was great, but, um, unexpected. I think I’d like to do it again.”

Dean looked up, past her. “That’s a subject I’d love to pursue. But maybe we should discuss it on the way home; I’m pretty sure this is Kevin’s truck we messed up and I think I see somebody heading this way!”

The elegant woman strolled into Spots and looked about. Although beautiful, she clearly was beyond high school. The ruffled white blouse, beaded skirt, and designer heels she wore also distinguished her from those of more limited means or less refined taste. Nobody was there to comment on this except the barkeep, stolidly restacking cleaned glassware on the shelves.

“Hi, Hank!” the woman addressed him familiarly, “where’s Mariah?”

The man looked up with a grunt. “Good evening, Ms. Haskell. She’s in back, I think.”

The board member navigated her way across the empty dance floor to a door marked “Reserved for Private Parties Only” in the rear hall, and opened it without hesitation. Closing it behind her, she surveyed the room momentarily.

As expected, her daughter was present. It apparently was not a concern that Mariah’s shorts lay on the floor, or that she was bent over the back of a leather couch, being pounded from behind by Paul Edwards so vigorously that her young tits swayed back and forth in her vest with every stroke. “Paul.”

Paul greeted her tersely, without breaking rhythm. “Judy.”

“Oh, mom!” Mariah moaned in time with his thrusts. “You’ve got — to feel — these new — studs!”

Paul stepped back, revealing a glistening cock with a set of steel studs surrounding the head. Judy’s aloof expression changed to one of hunger. She crossed the room, unceremoniously hiking her skirt up to her waist, and revealing dainty lace panties and garter-suspended stockings.

Without wasting further effort on conversation, Judy sank to her hands and knees, and buried her face in her daughter’s dripping gash.

Paul, in turn, dropped to his knees behind her. He casually tore a hole in the lace without bothering to remove Judy’s underwear, and thrust into her without further preparation — she was slick and ready, as he’d known she would be. A single grunt interrupted Judy’s licking as his studs scraped into her cunt for the first time.

Mariah wriggled to seat herself more firmly against her mother’s face, and resumed what evidently had been a conversation in progress. “I’ve told you before, Zoe is going to be a troublemaker.”

“That’s crap!” Paul buried himself forcefully to the root in Judy, emphasizing his disagreement. “Look at tonight — by all reports, Claudia Babbitt was the ringleader.”

“Exactly, look at tonight,” retorted Mariah. She tensed, forcing a clot of spunk towards her mother’s probing tongue. “Who brought Claudia here, when she’s never bothered to show up before? Zoe.” She squeezed out more cum. “Who’s dragging around Dean to photograph everything in sight? Zoe.” Another squeeze. “Who helped Claudia face down both the cheer squad and me, damnit, without losing her cool? Zoe.” Squeeze. “Who chased you around the club all night, the same way she does at school, and hasn’t stopped asking awkward questions? Zoe.”

“Who hasn’t found a damn thing we didn’t want her to find?” Paul slapped Judy’s ass for emphasis.

“Whatever.” Mariah shrugged. “I’m wearing her down. I almost hooked up with Dean tonight; that woulda killed her. You should’ve seen the look on her face!” The remembered thrill and Judy’s ragged breath on her skin was exciting the teen. She shifted slightly back and down, sighing when her mother’s tongue began rimming her anus, and continued, “she was so worked up, she blew him in the parking lot!”

“What?” Paul paused for a moment, and then resumed his thrusting at a slightly greater rate. “I didn’t see that on any of the security cameras.”

Hank had just joined them and explained. “Yeah, one of the security guys saw it. He trailed them to make sure there wouldn’t be any trouble, what with bathroom throwdowns and lap dances and all. They were between a couple of the cars, pretty well shielded. Claims the kid came twice, but no way to know for sure.”

“I figured ’em both for virgins,” Mariah mused, relaxing her sphincter to allow her mother’s probing tongue the greatest possible access to her rear chute. “If I got ’em this far in one night, you watch — I’ll nail ’em both. Zoe’ll be too distracted to think about anything except where her next fuck will be coming from!”

Paul looked unconvinced, but let the conversation slide. Perhaps he could arrange to help things along, and further his own goals at the same time; these two didn’t need to know about that. He made a mental note to follow up later, and resumed slapping Judy’s ass repeatedly before groaning and jetting inside her.

Mariah might have added more, but Hank plugged her mouth with his semi-erect cock. Heaving a sigh of relief, he released his bladder and the teen began gulping his urine as he pissed in her mouth. “Good girl,” he encouraged her, pleased she was getting every drop; he hated cleaning the couch.

“Thank you so much, Claudia!” Zoe shared her fervent gratitude the next morning as soon as she met her prickly neighbor to walk to the bus stop. “Last night was the greatest!”

“Why?” the older girl asked archly. “Were you and Ken making little Skippers after you left?”

“Claudia!” gasped Zoe, simultaneously amused and offended, “it wasn’t like that at all! I’m not that kind of girl! Dean just drove me home.”

“Sure,” Claudia assured her with an exaggerated wink. “You can keep your secrets. But you promised me a favor, and I’m ready to collect.”

Zoe hoped it wasn’t going to be anything too outrageous. “What is it?” she asked nervously.

“Don’t get all flustered, Barbie — it’s nothing bad.” Claudia grinned momentarily. “You know those shorts Mariah was wearing last night?” The blonde nodded. “Well, I think they were manufactured at school like our uniforms; I want to know how she did it.”

“Why?” Zoe wanted to know.

“Why, what?” Claudia looked down the street, but the bus wasn’t in sight. “Why I think so? Because there was a TRAINCO tag in the waistband of her shorts, like we have in our skirts.” She leered at Zoe. “And no, you probably don’t want to know how I know that. Why I want to know? Because I’m on a budget! If I could get clothes made for the same price they charge for uniforms, I could save a ton of money.”

Zoe had to admire the concept. Clothes were expensive, and it always seemed like her size was gone by the time things went on clearance, and the trendy stores weren’t convenient to get to, either. “Amen,” she agreed, still thinking. “Well, if Mariah can figure it out, so can we. I’ll let you know as soon as I learn anything, I promise.”

She cut short her lunch and headed over to the administrative building that same day. The registration desk was deserted, but Nancy appeared nearly immediately when Zoe rang the service bell.

“Well hello, Zoe!” the woman greeted her cheerfully. “What can I do for you this fine day?”

“Hey, Nancy, I was hoping you could help me with something. Can we buy clothes besides uniforms here?”

“Interesting question.” Nancy pursed her lips for a moment and tapped out a query on her keyboard. “Well, the SKUs are here for that, but I’m not familiar with them. Can you wait a minute while I ask somebody?”

“Sure,” Zoe chirped. “I appreciate it.”

It actually took closer to five minutes before Nancy returned, apologizing for the delay. “I’m sorry, Zoe — I guess sometimes the simplest questions have the most complicated answers! Anyway, the answer is yes — there’s a $10 per-garment setup fee in addition to materials costs, for any pattern we have on file.”

The setup fee didn’t sound bad, but the answer raised new questions Zoe hadn’t thought of. “Materials costs? How much are they?” she asked.

Nancy executed another query, and printed a page for Zoe. “Here are the prices for our standard fabrics; they’re between $5 and $20 a yard. But remember, we only stock fabric for our standard uniform garments — for anything else, you’d need to supply the fabric yourself. But then, we’d only charge you the setup fee, which really is a bargain!”

Zoe didn’t know anything about sewing or how much fabric it took to make anything, but she could figure that out later. “And what patterns do you have on file? Can you make new ones?”

Nancy laughed, typing before Zoe finished asking. “Well, obviously, we have all of the uniform patterns. I can see a few more here, but there’s no description — just an identification number. They could be anything.” She paused to read the screen carefully, and then scribbled something on a notepad. “In answer to your last question, you can define new patterns, but it must be complicated. There’s a book that explains how to do it, but we charge $100 for it and we don’t have it in stock — it’s print on demand. You might try looking in the library to see if there’s a copy you can look at first; here’s the ISBN for it.” She tore off the sheet and handed it to the teen.

“Thanks a lot, Nancy! You’ve been a lot of help! Bye!” If she hurried, Zoe thought she could hit the library before class.

“Any time, dear,” the woman assured the blonde as she left the office.

Zoe was able to locate the book and made it to her seat in chemistry just as the bell rang for the period. She unobtrusively flipped through it during class, attracting Paige’s fascinated attention. After the second time their beaker almost boiled over, Zoe resolutely set the volume aside and tried to concentrate on her experiment.

“Where you did you get that?” Paige wanted to know, as soon as class ended. “I know you’re not taking either programming or home ec, and that’s a bizarre combination anyway.”

“I’m doing a favor for Claudia,” Zoe replied as they made their way toward their lockers. “Did you know the school will make clothes for you for ten bucks if you have fabric and a pattern?”

“No way!” exclaimed Paige, impressed out of her usual stoicism. “But what about the dress code?”

“Well, that doesn’t change. But wouldn’t you like to have stuff for nights and weekends?” the blonde asked. “We know Mariah’s doing it; it just looks a little more complicated than I hoped.” She shrugged. “This is supposed to tell you how to do the patterns, but I can’t understand it at all.”

“Let me take a look,” Paige pleaded. “Programming is such a drag; Mr. Costanz is so slow! I’ll give it back to you tomorrow before class.”

Zoe knew she needed help, and Paige definitely had an analytical bent that could help. “Keep it a secret, okay?” Zoe handed over the book, continuing, “I want to figure this out before everybody else jumps on the bandwagon.”

“Sure thing!” Paige chirped, before the two parted and Zoe headed for yearbook.

On the ride home, Zoe was able to share the day’s discoveries with Claudia, starting a conversation that continued after they got off the bus.

“What did it say about patterns, again?” Claudia asked for about the fifth time.

“I already told you, practically the entire book seemed to be about patterns,” replied Zoe, a bit frustrated. “I think there was at least a chapter or two on converting traditional patterns, whatever they are. I’m sorry; it just didn’t make much sense to me.”

The brunette appeared to come to some decision. “Fuck it; this is driving me crazy. Let’s just go over and visit Paige, okay?” She looked at her cell phone. “I have a couple hours before work — I can drop you off here on my way back.” Zoe nodded her approval. “Be back in 10 minutes.”

Zoe darted into her house. She changed quickly and left a note for her parents on the refrigerator. Before the appointed time, she was outside again, in jeans, hoodie, and flip-flops, with her notebook and the printouts from the school in hand. Claudia was there a minute later, wearing a black skirt, “Fabric Farm” polo shirt, cardigan, and “Hi, I’m Claudia!” nametag. Her expression warned Zoe to keep a straight face.

“I need the fucking money,” Claudia snarled as they climbed into her car, although Zoe hadn’t said anything. “And we’ll see who’s laughing if this works out — I get a 40% employee discount on fabric, 25% if it’s special order.”

Zoe called Paige on her cell to give her a heads-up and get driving directions. Only a few minutes later they were parking on the street behind a familiar-looking truck. Zoe looked furtively at the passenger door as they walked up to the house, and hoped the heat she felt in her face wasn’t showing.

The door opened just before they reached it. “Hey guys, come on in,” Paige greeted them.

They entered, both girls looking around curiously. “Where’s your sister?” Claudia asked, voicing the question that had been on Zoe’s mind.

Paige snorted. “She’s sitting in the hot tub with Kevin, ‘studying’,” she sniffed, tossing her head in the direction of a sliding door at the back of the house.

“Studying what?” asked Claudia after a sarcastic laugh. “Etymology of the word ‘like’?” Paige and Zoe giggled.

After a second, Paige retorted, “no, I think it’s anatomy, if you know what I mean.” At that, all three of the girls crept up to the sliding door and peered out. Their caution was unwarranted; only two heads were visible in the steaming tub, and they were engaged in a deep kiss.

Half a minute later, with no sign of any letup, Claudia sighed, “I guess we should make sure they aren’t disturbed,” and locked the patio door. Paige looked like she was about to say something, but subsided without making an objection, and Zoe wasn’t about to rock the boat.

The trio relocated to the living room, where Paige had left the book, now sporting several sticky notes sprouting from various pages, and a notebook opened to several scribbled figures.

“You guys, this is so cool,” Paige exclaimed as she dropped into the sofa. Zoe joined her, leaving the armchair for Claudia. Together they bent over the coffee table as Paige continued explaining, “it’s like writing a program, but you get the computer to actually physically make something! Now apparently, you can do it completely from scratch, but the easiest way is to start is with an existing pattern, on paper. Zoe, did they say anything about scanning?”

“Not that I recall,” the blonde admitted, “but I can check tomorrow.”

“How does it work with patterns?” Claudia asked, before she went on to explain, “we’re rolling in the fucking things at the Fabric Farm. Most of ’em are maybe 20 years old and your mother wouldn’t get caught dead wearing one, but we have catalogs, too.”

Paige could already see the possibilities. “Well, they talk about just digitizing the patterns, like you have a really large scanner or something. Then you have to designate how the pieces are supposed to be oriented on the fabric, and how they’re joined together — that can get complicated, apparently, and that’s where the programming part comes in. It looks like they have their own language for that; I don’t know why they didn’t just use XML.”

Zoe and Claudia rolled their eyes at each other. The pounding on the back door was audible in the brief silence. Joanne’s voice, muffled by the dual-pane glass, screamed, “Paige, you bitch, you’d better open this door like right now!”

“Oh please, allow me,” purred Claudia, gesturing for the two juniors to remain on the couch while she stood up. Wide-eyed, they turned to watch her stroll to the door, where Joanne and Kevin stood wet and shivering in the cold.

“Claudia! This isn’t funny! Let us in before we, like, freeze!” Joanne yelled, pounding on the glass. “Paige!”

“C’mon, girl,” urged Kevin, aware of the audience and trying to preserve his cool.

Claudia coolly looked them over. Kevin was wearing his Hyde swim briefs, looking decidedly ripped and attractive; Joanne’s pink bikini showcased her trim body equally well. “I don’t think it would be very respectful to get your parents’ carpeting wet, Joanne. Maybe you should remove those swimsuits before you come in?” The suggestion didn’t sound much like a request, and Claudia crossed her arms as she waited for a reply.

Paige and Zoe stared over the back of the sofa as Joanne went ballistic, jumping and screaming obscenities too fast to follow. Kevin looked initially nonplussed, but couldn’t restrain a growing sense of amusement at the situation.

“Shit, Joanne, they’re just your sister and a couple girls from school,” he calmly told her. “They probably see you naked in the showers all the time already. And it’s cold out here.”

“She’s, like, a dyke!” Joanne exclaimed, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering. “You saw her and Mariah last night! They were like, so gross.” She glared through the glass at Claudia. “Is that why you’re here? To, like, hit on my sister? Well, I don’t want you touching me!”

The audience on the couch traded bemused looks. “Are you a lesbian?” whispered Paige, quasi-humorously. “No,” quipped Zoe, “but Claudia hasn’t touched me yet today!” They turned back to the show at the back door.

Kevin was getting tired of waiting. “C’mon, babe, humor the bitch. I’ll protect you, and I’m not afraid of any lesbians.” Well aware of his audience, he pulled down his briefs and stepped out of them.

Zoe had seen his cock briefly last night, but now there were no distractions or obstructions. Apparently what they said about black men was at least somewhat correct, because Kevin’s cock looked really large, even limp, as it hung in front of his tight balls. His body was entirely devoid of hair, and standing there, moisture beading his body, he looked like a dark marble statue. No wonder Paige was pissed at losing out on him.

Claudia crossed in front of him to open the door, and Zoe realized she’d been so fixated on Kevin that she hadn’t seen Joanne remove her bikini. Kevin cheerfully deposited his suit in Claudia’s outstretched hand as he sauntered in the door, still playing to the fascinated audience on the sofa.

Joanne, in contrast, was trying to cover herself with her arms. She still managed to thrust her suit against Claudia’s chest, trying to get as much water on her tormentor’s clothing as possible. Claudia clearly had expected something of that kind, and was able to minimize the damage. Letting the bikini tumble to the mat just inside the door, she used Kevin’s briefs to snap Joanne sharply on the ass.

“You bitch!” screamed the cheerleader, whirling to face Claudia, all modesty forgotten. The red mark on her bun was visible to everybody. “That, like, really hurt!”

Claudia grinned, spinning the briefs on a finger. “Remember what I told you, Joanne. Are you sure all of that wetness is from the tub? Maybe you like it. Maybe you’re a lesbian.”

“I am like so not a lesbian!” Joanne exploded, only to be brought up short as Kevin grabbed her around the waist. She continued struggling as he carried her up the stairs.

“C’mon babe, she’s not worth it,” he advised her. “We still have enough time to prove you aren’t a lesbian before your parents get home.” His footsteps continued upstairs for just a beat after they heard a bedroom door close.

“Wow,” was all Zoe could say. She realized she was a bit damp from looking at Kevin. Joanne was really going to take all of that inside her? The faint rhythmic bumping that started upstairs suggested she was.

Paige was frowning as she looked up the stairs, but turned an admiring look on Claudia as the older girl rejoined them. “I wish I could have done that,” she admitted.

“Ultimately, you can do whatever you want,” Claudia told her. She paused as the first cries of passion sounded faintly from above. “God, and she has the nerve to call me a slut?” Shrugging, she sat down and asked, “where were we?”

Paige resumed her normal expression of careful consideration. “Well, once the pattern is in the computer, you can alter it a couple different ways…”

After several more days of planning, the three girls met at the administration building after classes to try putting their planning into practice. Claudia had driven today, eliminating the need to worry about bus schedules and giving them a secure place to stash their materials. Zoe waited a bit impatiently with Nancy as Claudia returned from the parking lot with a large Fabric Farm bag.

They’d already discussed this the previous day, so there was no confusion when Claudia produced the bolt of truly hideous — but truly cheap — clearance fabric she’d gotten at work, together with spools of thread, lengths of zipper, and various buttons. Nancy attached a RFID tag to each, and then scanned them together with multi-part bar-coded tags. As each was processed, Paige taped the tag stubs into her notebook, making careful notes about the description of each item.

The girls relocated to the fitting room while Nancy started filing the materials, and Paige took command of the terminal there. She handed Claudia the two patterns they’d selected for testing. One was for pants that originally had been fashionable in the ’70s and were already on their way out again, and the other was a fairly simple dress that suffered only from blandness.

By prior agreement, they unfolded the dress pattern, and positioned it upside down on the table. The paper stuck lightly to the surface, and Claudia smoothed it out so it lay flat. A moment later, Zoe watched over Paige’s shoulder as a replica of the pattern appeared in miniature on the monitor. There was another long pause, and the lines on the pattern were highlighted. The entire background turned red. “Is that good?” Zoe asked.

“Yes; it’s just telling us it doesn’t know what to do with the information we gave it.” Paige started clicking and typing rapidly, providing a little commentary as she worked. “First, I attach this to my program. That’s WPB301P0001, thanks to their stupid naming conventions.” The background returned to a normal color, leaving the shapes filled with red, and added a list box in the corner of the screen.

“Now I have to tell it which piece is which,” Paige explained, dragging each piece onto a different entry in the list box. A few of the pieces were duplicated and mirrored with a few keystrokes, but eventually all of the shapes were filled with yellow, as were all of the list entries. She hit a key and the screen cleared, displaying a larger diagram of the first piece. “So, I provide an orientation” — Paige dragged a line across the outline — “and then associate the correct sizing with each of the outlines.” A few alternating clicks and key presses dismissed the shape and the next piece appeared.

Zoe knew Paige had already entered standard dimensions for the sizes in the pattern, but Claudia had warned them that “standard” varied by the designer and the age of the pattern. Hopefully the computer was sophisticated enough to resize everything correctly, but they expected to need a few tries. In just a few minutes, the original display returned; after Paige corrected a typo, everything on it was green. It seemed magical, even taking into account the long hours Paige had worked alone on the program beforehand. “Done!” her friend gleefully exclaimed, hitting the “Save” button.

“Now for the boring part,” Claudia commented, watching as Paige clicked “Parameterize” and a progress bar began crawling across the screen.

“Do you really think this will work?” asked Zoe, as Claudia began folding up the pattern on the table.

“If it didn’t choke by this point, we’ll definitely get something,” Paige offered.

“Even if it’s so fucking hideous it blinds the eyes of those who see it,” amended Claudia.

“Gee, thanks,” Zoe murmured nervously. She was the agreed-upon model, partly because the others claimed it was a fair division of labor, and partly because they claimed she had the best figure. “Didn’t you like dressing up Barbie when you were a kid?” was how Claudia had put it.

“Soup’s done!” chirped Paige, still watching the screen. She started typing again, verbalizing softly under her breath. “Load, model, RZB44301,” and a large “ACCESS DENIED” message appeared. “Oops! Can I have your ID, Zoe?” The blonde unlooped the lanyard and handed it to her friend, who inserted it into the slot beside the screen, and retried the operation. This time, Zoe’s figure appeared on the screen. Paige dragged the mouse to rotate it.

It wasn’t a picture, but the detail was clear enough there was no mistaking herself. A faint panty line was visible if she looked for it and from behind it was clear something covered her butt, but to the casual observer, it was an exceedingly graphic nude picture. “Just numbers?!” gasped Zoe, embarrassed, as Nancy’s soothing words from that summer came back to her before turning to ashes.

“We need a redo,” Paige said just as Claudia laughed, “that won’t do!” They looked at each other and then Zoe.

“What?” the blonde asked defensively.

Paige explained, “you’ve been doing swimming for nearly two months, Zoe. I think your arms and legs are more muscular than this now.”

That was a point; and now that she thought about it, Zoe knew her waist was a little tighter too. She looked at Claudia, wondering what she’d seen.

“That butt,” the brunette said, pointing at the featureless curves on the screen. “There’s no detail there; you’d never be able to design shorts like Mariah’s this way. I think you need to get scanned nude.”

“I don’t want to have shorts like that,” Zoe complained.

“Oh come on,” Claudia cajoled her, “you don’t know what we might end up making. Just do it once and fucking get it over with.” She eyed the other girls. “If it makes you feel better, Paige and I will get rescanned, too.”

“We will?” Paige asked, at the same time Zoe clarified, “nude?” All three looked at one another before finally nodding with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

“But you first,” Claudia clarified. “There’s no sense fucking around wasting time before we know this is going to work.”

“Okay,” Zoe sighed in surrender. She headed to the dressing room. The process went pretty much like it had before, except this time she removed all of her clothing before putting her hair up, and it was Paige’s voice giving commands. A few minutes later she was back with the others, wearing just her underwear, watching as Paige pulled up the new visuals.

“Okay, here’s RZB44302 — that’s from today — compared with the old RZB44301.” The two figures were superimposed, shaded to highlight the discrepancies. The improved muscular definition was there, as was the slightly smaller waist, but Zoe was surprised to see her breasts apparently were slightly larger too. And most embarrassingly, the crack between her buns was highlighted, as was the crevice between her labia and the pubic hair surrounding it. Claudia snorted softly, but Paige matter-of-factly selected the pubic patch and interpolated it out of existence. Zoe had never thought about what she would look like bare, but she had a pretty good idea now.

Paige was still typing. “So now we’ll join model RZB44302 and pattern WPB301P0001, and see what happens.” A rough model of the dress overlaid the figure, and then jumped a minute later as it resized to conform to the contours of Zoe’s body. Even drawn in shades of grey, it looked eerily realistic.

“Too bad the real material isn’t that color. Can we modify that hemline?” Claudia asked.

Paige nodded, clicked, and dragged the hem upwards. With a giggle, she yanked it up even with the cleft between Zoe’s legs. “Like this?”

“Come on, you guys,” the blonde groused while Claudia laughed. “It’s bad enough being on display like this.”

They relented and settled on a mid-thigh length, and successfully resisted Claudia’s demands to alter the bust line. After taking a deep breath, Paige hit “Commit” and “WPB301P0001-RZB44302-002 processing in background” appeared with a new progress bar.

“Come on, you guys can get re-measured while we wait,” Zoe suggested after watching the status display for a minute.

Claudia shrugged, handed over her badge, and headed for the changing room. Zoe reclaimed her own ID and watched in fascinated silence as Paige cycled the scanner, but the display was devoid of any picture. “By default, you just get status information,” Paige told her. “I think maybe I know more about this system than Nancy does, and she just didn’t realize what it can do.”

The older girl was back a minute later, and they watched Paige diff the BCA28702 and BCA28701 models. They found surprisingly few differences. “Claudia!” Zoe exclaimed, looking at the highlighted nipples which stood out much further in the new model. The ring in the left nipple looked the same, although it was shifted ever so slightly further from the breast.

“I teased the fuckers out,” explained Claudia nonchalantly. “Maybe that will convince this damn thing not to make the tops so tight; you know I hate their bras.” She hadn’t bothered to put it on again either, Zoe noticed.

Paige had focused on what didn’t change; there was practically no red at all around the crotch, where Zoe’s figure had shown the biggest change. “Didn’t you take off your underwear?” she asked, uncertainly; actually, it looked more like Claudia hadn’t worn underwear for either scan.

Claudia looked disgusted at the question. “Of course I did. But unlike Barbie, here, I have a little style.” She pointed at the screen. “See, if you look closely, these are the lines of the thong I was wearing in August. As for today, I wax — and my lips just don’t protrude that much.” Crossing her arms, she challenged Paige, “let’s see how you stack up.”

Stung, Paige yanked out Claudia’s badge, banishing the pictures, and inserted her own. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Claudia not quite apologized as the other girl stomped off to the changing room.

Zoe repeated the process she’d watched Paige perform for Claudia’s scan. The WPB30102 figure was up on the screen by the time Paige returned, buttoning up her blouse, but Zoe couldn’t remember how to invoke the comparison with the previous scan. She yielded the spot in front of the monitor to her still-sullen friend.

Paige quickly merged the earlier image, and the results were startling enough to make Zoe take a long look at her friend. “This school has been fucking good to you, Paige,” breathed Claudia.

Where Zoe had gotten slightly leaner and more sinewy, Paige clearly had lost weight from her waist, hips, and thighs. The uniform obscured it, and the change had happened gradually enough Zoe hadn’t really noticed, but the difference was dramatic when it was highlighted. The girl who had been a touch thick when classes started was as willowy as her two friends.

That wasn’t the most startling change, however. Zoe remembered noticing Paige’s acne on the first day, and had commented occasionally it was improving, but this was ridiculous. The face on the monitor was a rash of muted red, highlighting where all of the zits and blackheads had been before they’d been replaced by a seemingly perfect complexion.

“Was I really that bad?” Paige stroked her face, echoing Zoe’s thought.

“No,” the blonde responded, “it’s just that now you’re that good. I can’t believe I didn’t notice before this. How did you do it?”

“I don’t know,” the other girl responded thoughtfully. “I suppose a lot of it is that I just don’t eat a lot of the junk food I used to. And I’ve been using this acne cream I got from the school nurse. Whatever it was, I like the results.”

“Fucking right!” Claudia agreed. “You look like you were made for sex.” The monitor did show erected nipples, labia more pronounced than Zoe’s, and a neatly trimmed bush.

Paige looked like she was torn between pleasure at the complement and embarrassment, and ducked her head as she quickly cropped the pubic hair out of the scan and saved it. A different dialog box popped up and Zoe thought there was a problem until she read it: “WPB301P0001-RZB44302-002 fabrication completed.”

“I’ve got it,” announced Claudia, already headed out of the room. Paige cleared the display and retrieved her identification badge, and then they waited.

It took only a minute for Claudia to return, accompanied by Nancy. “I hope you girls don’t mind,” the bubbly woman enthused, “but I’ve never seen anybody get something new made and I just wanted to see how it looks! Oh, that material is horrid, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but cheap. We’re experimenting.” Claudia displayed the dress, which would have looked better in the monochromatic grey of the design software. The print was garishly bad to start with, and the fabricator had made no attempt to match it across seams. The seams themselves looked well made, however, with no sign of unevenness, bunches, or pulls. “Well, here’s our first problem — the zipper’s in backwards!” Claudia fumbled with the back of the dress, pulling the zipper upwards from the waist until it reached the top of the neckline.

“Ooops!” Paige pulled up the pattern on the monitor, located the zipper, and reversed the orientation. “Can Zoe still get into it?”

Claudia wiggled the zipper a moment longer and it came free, like a jacket held upside down. “I think so — hopefully we can zip it again after she’s in it.” She held it out to the blonde, who gingerly stepped into it and turned around. The brunette struggled with the zipper again, but managed to get it threaded and started drawing it carefully down.

“Wow, that’s snug,” Zoe complained as Claudia forced the zipper down past her shoulder blades, and then more easily drew it the remainder of the way closed. “It’s thin, but I don’t think we allowed enough for the bra — or for me to breath.” She rotated for the audience, and then looked at herself in the mirror while Paige’s fingers tapped out a counterpoint on the keyboard.

It wasn’t a style she would have chosen for herself, but Zoe thought the dress actually looked quite attractive, if you ignored the color. It did pull slightly across her breasts, but fit like a glove down to where it flared away from her hips and legs.

“Can you sit in it?” asked Nancy. Zoe obliged without problems. “Well, I must say — you girls are so clever. I think it looks just marvelous!”

Claudia asked, “can we try another one? It should only take maybe half an hour.” Paige nodded her agreement with the estimate.

Nancy glanced at her watch and nodded. “I think I can stick around that long. I’ll just get a head start on a few reports while you work.”

“Please unzip me,” Zoe begged after the woman left the room. “I want to breathe again!” Claudia worked the zipper free, and the blonde enjoyed a deep lungful of fresh air.

“Can you just try it for a second without the bra?” Paige requested. “I think I fudged the fit, but I want to make sure that’s really the problem with the top.”

It was just the three of them now, and Zoe felt they’d already as good as seen her naked anyway. She peeled off the undergarment and let Claudia zip the dress again. It went quickly this time, as Claudia was more practiced and the fit was, indeed, improved. “That’s pretty good,” Zoe allowed, “as long as I stick to shallow breaths. I think it would be perfect if it was just a little bigger, or if this material had any stretch to it at all.”

She left the dress on as she worked with Claudia to unfold the other pattern and flatten it on the table for scanning. Paige was in a good mood, humming as she worked through the process of breaking down the images and linking them to her program. “I need your ID again, Zoe,” she finally announced.

“I can’t wear that,” Zoe objected, pointing at the butt of WPB301P0002-RZB44302-001 on the screen. The virtual fabric hugged her digitized buns and the seam nestled deep in the cleft between them. “That’s worse than Mariah!”

“Okay, stop!” Paige exclaimed crossly. “Will somebody please tell me what is going on with Mariah? I keep hearing people talk about her, but nobody actually says anything.”

“She wore a pair of shorts to Spots last week,” Claudia said. “It’s actually what gave us the idea for this. They didn’t look much different from this” — she leaned over and appropriated the mouse — “if you dropped the waistline to here, and cut them off here. They fit about the same as Zoe’s dress.”

“And she wore them in public? Wow, that’s racy even for her.” Paige thought for a second, then brought up the “fit pattern” dialog and typed “HM*” — the system responded with a screenful of entries. She chose the last entry in the list, and a moment later the girls were looking at HMA100P0017-RZB44302-001. The shorts were displayed by themselves, rather than on a figure.

“Don’t even think about it,” Zoe warned her friends. “If I want to wear something that looks like that, I put on a pair of underwear — and something else over it!” She’d never have the nerve to do what Mariah had done, although again the screen made it easy to imagine what she would look like. The blonde was surprised to feel a pleasurable twinge deep inside. “Can we stay focused?” she asked the others — and herself.

Paige closed the window and dropped back to the pants. She zoomed in on the figure, and then used the mouse to gently stroke the inseam outwards until the crevice was reduced to a slight indentation. “How’s that?”

Zoe nodded approvingly.

“You’re going to put the zipper in the right way around this time, right?” asked Claudia.

Paige stuck out her tongue. “Nice try, but there’s no zipper — it’s a button fly. And before you ask, yes — the buttons are facing the right way.” She stabbed “Commit” and WPB301P0002-RZB44302-002 went into fabrication.

The estimated time remaining was shorter than it had been for the dress, and Paige used it to copy all of the patterns she could find onto her USB stick. Based on the prefixes, only Mariah and she had added to the TRAINCO-provided uniform patterns. “I want to see what’s here and how they did it,” she explained. “It’ll help in tweaking our own stuff, and maybe there’ll be something we can just use as-is.”

Claudia helped Zoe remove the dress, and the junior put on her bra again. The brunette had folded up the patterns, so Zoe threw the dress into the shopping bag with them. “I don’t think I’ll be wearing that again, thank you very much.” The last few minutes seemed to pass dreadfully slowly before Nancy brought in the finished slacks.

“Oh, these take me back to my young rebellious years,” she chortled, handing the pants to Zoe. “All you need is a tie-dye shirt.”

Zoe pulled on the pants and fastened the buttons. She gave a thumbs-up to Paige, and tried moving in them. The waist was quite high by modern standards, but fit snugly without being tight, and the flared bottoms brushed the floor around her bare feet. “What do you guys think?”

Claudia ran her hands around the pants, tugging on them and grasping Zoe’s butt firmly enough to make the blonde jump. “You should have left the inseam alone, but you’re still booty-licious Barbie in my book. Now we just need to get some decent patterns and fabric!”

With that pronouncement, the girls traded high-fives and Zoe scrambled to put on her uniform again; there was no way she was going to be seen in public wearing anything made from that fabric, even if the style wasn’t so out of fashion. She grabbed the bag and met the others in the lobby just as Nancy handed Claudia the receipt for their $20 processing fee.

The plotting continued during the drive to Paige’s house. “Fabric’s not a problem,” Claudia assured the other two, “we’ve got all kinds in stock and a ton of catalogs we can special-order from if we wanted.” She waved a stiffened finger at another driver who had turned out from a cross street and cut them off. “But I’ve looked at a lot of our patterns and they just look like things my mother used to wear. Or Stepford children,” she added with a quick smirk in Zoe’s direction.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Paige interjected from the rear seat. “The design software seems pretty capable. With some cribbing from the patterns I copied, I think we might be able to copy actual clothing.” She elaborated with growing enthusiasm, “I mean, we could trace the pieces, maybe in two different sizes, and then adapt an existing program for something similar. How many ways are there to sew together a skirt or pants?”

“So we could buy something, measure it, and then return it?” asked Zoe. “That wouldn’t cost us anything except time! If we can get away with it, that is.”

“Fuck ’em,” Claudia said. “If it comes back in good condition, tags still in, what do they care? Hell, we probably won’t even have worn them in the first place! Are you girls up for a trip to Deer Meadow Hills this weekend?” The high-end mall was the destination for serious shopping, but it was nearly two hours away.

Passers-by stopped and stared at the car as it sped by, girls screaming out the windows and horn honking.

Dean trailed after Zoe in bemusement as she practically dragged him toward the Administration building. She’d cut lunch short, saying she had a secret to share with him, and now they were in the admissions lobby. It was deserted at the moment, and Zoe guided them around the counter to the fitting area. “Are you sure it’s okay for us to be here?” he asked.

“It’s fine,” she responded. “Nancy lets us in here all the time.”

It was easy enough to guess “us” meant her, Claudia, and Paige; they’d been nearly inseparable over the past week or two, and he was curious what they’d been up to. Now it looked like he might find out.

Zoe kissed him passionately, pressing her body against his, and feeling his crotch. He stirred, starting to harden, when she turned away from him to face the monitor. “I have something special to show you,” she promised, “but it’s just for you — not to share.” He nodded. “I want to show you what I look like.”

Dean felt a little confused; she was standing right in front of him and he knew very well exactly what the beautiful blonde looked like. She plugged in her badge next to the monitor and typed something on the keyboard, and then he knew what she meant.

Dean gaped at the display, so vivid it was almost pornographic, and drank in every part of the picture, especially the areas he’d only dreamed of before today. His tool was rigid in his pants as he focused on her nipples and what had to be the folds of her sex. “You are seriously the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You were naked for this?”

“Of course,” she admitted, obviously pleased by his reaction. Then Zoe added, “I’d like to see you this way, too.”

His cock was doing most of his thinking now, but Dean managed to hold onto a shred of common sense. “Naked? Who can see these pictures?”

“Just you,” she replied. “They’re private information; you have to use your ID badge to access them.” Zoe pulled her badge from the slot and the screen went blank. “See?”

He wavered, and she added, “Please? I really want to see you. Almost as much as I want to taste you.”

Hormones won out; Dean almost forgot to hand her his badge before he lunged into the changing room, shedding his jacket as he went. Zoe barely had time to insert his card and set up the scanning routine before he was calling, “ready,” from the other room. She started the scan and waited impatiently for it to complete.

Zoe toyed with the idea of swapping in her card and doing a second scan, just so she could have a picture of him to look at when she wanted to, but there wouldn’t be any way to hide it from Paige. And besides, she couldn’t do to Dean what Amber’s “friends” had done to her. She settled for bringing up scan KDB95202 and focusing on the ache between her legs as she stared at the hard organ standing out from his groin, captured electronically forever.

Unable to wait any longer, Zoe pulled the card free and rushed to the changing room, catching Dean still half-clad. “You’re beautiful,” she cried, kissing him again and stroking the erection jutting from his shorts. Then she just had to taste him, as she’d promised, and he was jetting semen into her sucking mouth almost immediately. Zoe caressed his balls, milking the last of his scum from his softening meat with her tongue.

She tenderly tucked him away, and helped Dean finish dressing. The first bell rang as she straightened his tie, and they parted with a final kiss on which Dean could still taste himself. Zoe waved goodbye to a startled Nancy as they exited the building, but Dean had eyes only for the girl walking beside him.

He’d come straight from yearbook, aching after watching Zoe for another hour. Dean looked quickly in both directions, but the other students in sight were focused on leaving campus as quickly as possible and paid no attention to him as he let himself in the frosted glass door of the nurse’s office.

“Good afternoon,” the attractive woman in the white lab coat greeted him with a musical voice. “Please, take a seat and let me secure the door so we are not disturbed.” Dean settled uncomfortably into the chair beside her desk while she crossed behind him and locked the door.

“Now then,” she continued, returning to the desk, “I am Nurse Shefali Patel, but most of my patients call me Shefali, and I hope you will too.”

“I’m Dean — Dean Killian,” the teen introduced himself, “pleased to meet you, Shefali.” Her handshake was light but firm.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dean,” Shefali smiled as she seated herself. “If I may have your identification badge for a moment, I will introduce you to my computer, too.”

Dean unlooped the lanyard from his neck and passed it across the desk, where the nurse glanced at the picture briefly before inserting it into a reader. A moment later the display on her workstation changed, and she returned the badge to him. “Very good, Dean, we all agree you are a current student here.” She leaned forward in her chair, engaging him with her dark eyes. “What brings you to see me this afternoon? You do not appear to have a medical condition requiring my attention.”

Dean had already worked out the conversation in his mind on the way over, so there wasn’t much uncertainty in his voice. “I wanted to talk about contraception.” Of course, he hadn’t realized the other party to the conversation would be such an exotically beautiful woman; he focused on a mental picture of Zoe.

“You are thinking of condoms?” the nurse asked him. “These are freely available to all students who request them.”

“Um, no,” admitted Dean, with some embarrassment. “I heard you could do stuff so I temporarily, um, couldn’t have kids. I mean, without using condoms.”

Shefali leaned back in her chair, considering. “Yes, such procedures are available. However, they are surgical procedures. Other forms of contraception, such as condoms, are much less invasive and additionally provide protection against sexually-transmitted diseases as well. Do you have a reason for your preference?”

“It’s this girl,” he explained. It was harder than he thought to vocalize his reasoning. “I really like her; I mean she is majorly smokin’ hot. We haven’t hooked up yet, but I, um, think we will.” Dean took a breath and released it. “I don’t trust my self-control around her, I don’t want to screw up and forget a condom, or be too eager to use it, or something. She doesn’t deserve to get knocked up or anything.”

“I see,” said the nurse, considering him. “And have you discussed these issues with her?”

“No way.” The teen shook his head. “She’s kind of restrained, and her parents are really old-fashioned. I mean, her dad would probably shoot me if he knew I was thinking about this. And I don’t want to put any pressure on her, or anything.” He shrugged. “I just want to be, well, prepared, I guess.”

“Perhaps you misjudge her,” Shefali rejoined. “And if I had a daughter, I would be reassured to know that the young man seeing her was as thoughtful as you are.” She leaned forward again. “But that is of no matter. I am not her mother; nor are you my son. Rather, it is that you are my patient, and I will attempt to comply with your wishes.”

She glanced again at her monitor. “Now, I see you have not had a physical yet this year, so I may speak only conditionally for the moment. But on the assumption you do not have any pre-existing conditions, there is an outpatient procedure that will satisfy your request.” Shefali wondered again why Principal Edwards would ask her to perform the procedure again so soon after the first trial, but the notation in the confidential medical record was quite explicit.

“It is somewhat similar to a vasectomy,” she continued, “but rather than tying off the ducts from your testicles, an implant will inhibit further production of sperm” — a rather gross understatement — “until it is removed at a future time” — an outright lie. Shefali hated the prevarication, but it really was something Dean would appreciate later; and apparently it was necessary.

“This is safe?” wondered Dean. It sounded a little more intrusive than he’d expected.

“Absolutely!” Shefali smiled. “We have never had a problem with it.”

“How long does it take?” If it got him closer to real sex with Zoe, Dean was sold.

“About half an hour,” the nurse assured him, pleased he hadn’t asked how many times she’d performed the procedure. “But do not forget, Dean, I must conduct a physical examination first, which will take about the same amount of time. If you can stay late, we could take care of this matter now, or we can schedule it for a future time.”

“Now’s no problem — I don’t take the bus,” he decided.

“Excellent!” Shefali stood, followed a moment later by Dean. “Now, if you will please follow me to the examination room, we will get started.” She led the way through the door at the rear of the office, entering a room largely filled with an adjustable table. “Please remove all of your clothing, Dean, and seat yourself on the examination table when you are finished. I will prepare while you are doing that.”

He gulped. Intellectually they’d just been talking about implanting something in his balls, but the idea of being completely naked in front of Shefali was intimidating. Dean stripped, facing towards the table and away from her, but eventually he had to turn around and sit on the table.

Shefali, now wearing a pair of surgical gloves, started the examination. She paused often to make notations on an electronic tablet, but generally appeared disinterested as she examined every inch of Dean’s body.

Dean, in contrast, could not help noticing the nurse’s soft touch or trim figure as she moved close to him. His cock began hardening as the examination continued, and it was rigid by the time Shefali stepped away from him. Dean couldn’t look at her.

“Do not be embarrassed, Dean,” she told him gently. “I take it as a complement, and I know how boys are. Your penis will not be in the mood to take orders from your brain for a few more years yet, I am sure! We are almost finished; but I need you to lie back on the table and put your legs in these stirrups, first.”

It was like one of those bad gynecologist jokes from the locker room, but Dean complied, closing his eyes. They opened again, quickly, when Shefali pressed a lubricated finger into his anus. His cock throbbed as she stroked his prostate.

“Very good,” she reported. “Now, I must apologize if this embarrasses you, but we must collect a semen sample. I think this will go most expeditiously if I assist you. Please just continue to lie still.” Before Dean could collect his thoughts to protest, the nurse smeared some sort of reddish lubricating gel on his organ, and stroked it with a gloved hand, until his meat was completely coated and glistening.

The sensation was incredible, and Shefali handled him like a woman who knew what she was doing. “Cum for me now, be a good boy,” the nurse instructed in a sultry tone, working his straining cock with one hand while the other continued to probe his ass. “Don’t hold back, it will feel good to let go!”

Judging the moment perfectly, Shefali released her hold on Dean’s manhood and snatched a specimen cup from her tray as he started orgasming. She positioned it to capture several spurts, apparently not caring that he jetted onto his chest.

“Very good,” she pronounced. Her gloves were stripped off and deposited in a trash can, and Shefali capped the specimen container. “You may clean up with this,” she told Dean, handing him a large wipe, “and I will make my preparations to install your implant.”

Beyond embarrassment, Dean silently wiped his warm scum from his chest, and tried as best he could to clean the gel from his penis. It seemed sensitive, and remained hard despite his best efforts to will it into submission. The wiping had almost become stroking when he realized Shefali was watching him, and he stopped abruptly.

“You are doing magnificently, Dean,” she assured him. “I know this is hard for you. But, really, this last part is very easy.” Laughing, she added, “for you, anyway!”

Shefali explained, “now, I will apply a topical anesthetic to your scrotum to numb it, and make a small incision for the implant.” She displayed the small black pellet, about the size of a multivitamin, still in its sterile container. “I will insert it and connect its leads to your testicular conduits, and then close you up. As the opening will not be large, I will use adhesive rather than stitches — almost like super glue, you might say — and a little topical gel to assist with the healing. You will be as good as new in no time! Just lie back and remain quiet, please.”

Dean nodded and stared resolutely at the ceiling as the nurse pulled on a new pair of gloves and began dabbing jelly on his balls. He blinked —

“Dean?” Shefali asked, “can you hear me?” She squeezed his balls slightly, confirming the anesthetic she’d applied had rendered him unconscious, as expected. The nurse coated his bag with a purple gel, carefully covering all of the exposed flesh, and then wiped it clean with a damp towelette. When the gel was gone, so were all of the hairs on Dean’s balls, the skin wrinkling slightly as it contracted under the evaporative cooling.

Working quickly but calmly, she used a tool to make a long bloodless incision across his scrotum, exposing both testicles. Pulling them gently to expose their connections, she snipped them free, castrating the teen, before discarding them in the biowaste bin.

The nurse retrieved another container and opened it, revealing two pieces of elongated tissue that looked rather like pieces of roasted pepper, except in a ghastly fluorescent yellowish green color. Shefali proceeded to roll up one of them until it formed a ball perhaps half again the size of the human testicle it was going to replace, and carefully inserted it into a small mesh bag, leaving several tendrils hanging free. She repeated the process with the other organ.

Both packets were slathered lavishly with a green gel and then perched on a stand positioned at Dean’s crotch while Shefali used yet another unidentifiable tool to make the essential plumbing connections. Holding his new equipment in place, she worked back along the incision, pulling the skin back into place and sealing it, almost like closing a zipper.

Estimating carefully, she made a small incision at the very root of Dean’s deflating penis. Into this, Shefali inserted the black implant she’d shown Dean, pushing it until she felt it align with the urethra in the center of his organ. She closed up this incision the same way she had the first.

Shefali set her tools aside and visited her supply cabinet, returning with a very large plastic syringe loaded some sort of red gel. She ripped open a packet containing a small towelette and used it to wipe down the outside of the tube; it apparently was very slippery, as she dropped it on the tray twice before finishing. She guided the instrument into Dean’s ass, which opened to accept it without hesitation; finally, when it was deep inside him, she injected its contents into his bowels while simultaneously withdrawing it. The spent injector and wipe went into a covered equipment tray near the sink.

After a final check to make sure that everything on her patient and her equipment tray was as it should be, Shefali smeared more blue gel on Dean’s cock and bare balls. She fondled him to confirm the new “testicles” felt naturally positioned, and stroked his penis until it erected again, then wiped everything clean. Just about to the minute, the nurse injected a small dose of neutralizer.

— and realized Shefali was stripping off her gloves. “What? You’re done?” Dean looked at himself, but couldn’t see much.

“Yes, all done,” confirmed Shefali. “I think you may have passed out for a moment — it’s not unusual; the genitals are, of course, a very psychologically sensitive area. You should feel free to examine yourself and sit up; your testicles will remain slightly swollen for some time, although they should not cause you any pain.”

Dean hurried to comply, running a hand over his tight, hairless sack. They did feel much larger than before, and he couldn’t feel a thing from them. His scrotum, on the other hand, seemed supremely sensitive; blood pumped into his cock as he probed unsuccessfully for any trace of the insertion point or the implant. “What happened?”

Shefali interpreted the half-spoken question correctly. “I removed the hair on your scrotum so it would not interfere with the implantation. You will notice your scrotum normally will be fairly tight against your body, as the implant interferes with your temperature regulation reflexes; maintaining the proper conditions for sperm generation no longer is an issue in any event, yes?”

“Okay,” Dean nodded. He figured he could think this over more clearly somewhere else, by himself. “Can I get dressed now?” he pleaded.

“You may,” the nurse assented, and began making some additional notes on her tablet. “I would like to see you in two days,” she added. Dean looked up after pulling on his pants. “I will need to collect another sample of your ejaculate so that we can confirm the implant is working as intended. Would this same time be convenient for you?”

Dean agreed, “yeah, sure. That’s no problem.” He shrugged into his jacket and looped his tie around his neck without bothering to fasten it.

“I will see you Wednesday, then,” Shefali said as she followed him back into the front room. “You have been an outstanding patient, Dean; enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks, Shefali, I will. See you later!”

Claudia’s bug sped down the county road through the fading afternoon, cracked sunroof counterbalanced by heat from the dashboard vents. Zoe was riding shotgun for the return trip, having exchanged seats with Paige. In recompense, the speakers blared music from Paige’s favorite playlist on her iPhone.

Zoe sipped from her water bottle and replayed the shopping trip in her head. They had focused on clubbing outfits, since none of the girls had anything new, but took advantage of the opportunity to case the entire mall.

On the one hand, it took a little mental effort to ignore the lure of the designer logos, distressed fabrics, pocket decorations, or silk screening that distinguished much of the trendy clothing, since the fabricator couldn’t replicate any of those. On the other hand, it was empowering to ignore the sale and clearance racks and browse the more expensive stores Zoe wouldn’t have bothered to even enter on her own. Paige had sworn, on pain of death, everything would be returnable, and Claudia hadn’t hesitated to use her own credit card for everything they planned to duplicate. The blonde wondered how her friend had gotten it, but it hadn’t been declined.

Their haul included a number of different outfits, primarily ones of relatively simple construction where they could buy the same garment in two sizes. If the clerks were a bit bemused by the girls who entered the dressing rooms together, tried on outfits, and then bought them in two different sizes anyway, the credit card was good and the trio was far from the only group of girls roaming the mall. Zoe still was shocked by the price they paid for one dress she liked, and looked forward with hopeful anticipation to having a copy of it for herself.

There were a few things Zoe had bought for herself; she looked down at the most expensive of them, adorning her feet. Claudia had absolutely insisted Zoe get some heels, and Paige had lobbied vigorously for them too once she heard the blonde owned nothing except flip-flops, sneakers, and flats. Now Zoe owned a pair of gleaming red strappy sandals with 3-inch heels that felt more like 3-foot heels. They’d been more expensive than she liked, but Zoe loved their look and she hadn’t had to buy any of the outfits, so that was survivable. The bad part had been that Claudia made her start learning to walk in them immediately, and after a couple hours at the mall, Zoe’s feet and calves were killing her.

“Have you hooked up with Dean yet?” Paige asked from behind her. The question wasn’t quite out of left field; Zoe had endured good-natured teasing all day, since her attraction to him was hardly a secret and they’d visited several lingerie departments.

“Don’t the two of you have your own relationships to worry about?” she retorted.

“No,” her friends chorused. “Besides,” Claudia added unhelpfully, “your idiocy makes this even more entertaining than it would be otherwise. So answer the fucking question.”

“No, I haven’t,” Zoe admitted. “I’m not ready yet. We’re just taking it slow.”

“You can’t be that slow,” Claudia grinned. “I’ve smelled your blowjob breath more than once on the bus home.” Zoe’s face flamed. “You have needs too — if you’d just get it over with and fuck him, both of you would be a lot happier. And you wouldn’t have to worry so much about Mariah fucking stalking him all the time.” She took a quick glance sideways. “Are you a virgin?”

Stung, Zoe prevaricated, “what about you guys?” She didn’t want to admit her inexperience without at least leveling the playing field by extracting some confessions from her friends first.

“Oh, yeah,” Claudia sighed in remembrance. “Freshman year, at a concert. I think I was on something — don’t remember what. Met this guy in line for the bathroom, he was so hot and he couldn’t take his eyes off me, either. We did it standing up behind the portajohns, right in the crowd. Never saw him again; we didn’t even trade names. What a trip! Anyway, that was the first time — but definitely not the last.” She looked at Paige in the rearview mirror. “You?”

“Kevin,” Paige said quietly, looking down.

Zoe gaped, and Claudia asked incredulously, “no shit? I never heard that. And then he dumped you for Joanne? That motherfucker!”

“No, it was after.”

The statement riveted her audience. “What happened?” asked Zoe, twisting in her seat to listen more carefully.

“It was like a week after they hooked up. I knew he was coming over because Mom and Dad were going to a party, but Joanne had been out all day with Jana and crashed. I snuck into her bedroom and turned off the alarm, then grabbed her favorite skirt and some perfume. I put them on, then turned off the lights downstairs and waited. When Kevin showed up, I opened the door before he could knock and whispered that I needed him but my parents were home after all and we had to be quiet. I just acted really drunk and used ‘like’ every other word.” Paige giggled. “Then I bit him on the arm and told him how I secretly liked it rough and how fantasizing about getting raped by a black man made me wet. We did it right there on the sofa! Right when he was leaving, I told him I wanted him in my ass next time.”

“You twisted scheming bitch,” commented an admiring Claudia, “I can’t believe you got away with that!”

Zoe was shocked by this mendacious side of her friend, but couldn’t resist asking, “then what?”

Paige shrugged. “I got over it. But you should have heard hypergirl scream the next time Kevin came over!” She laughed again, “I’m not sure he actually got it in her, but he had scratches all over him when he left, and I could spook her for a month just by grabbing her butt. I don’t think they ever figured out it was me.”

Two pairs of eyes turned to Zoe. “Okay, so I’m still a virgin,” she blushed. “But I think Dean is going to be the one — we just haven’t done it yet.”

Claudia rolled her eyes. “Have you even practiced yet?” Zoe looked blank. “You know, have you put anything bigger than a finger up there? Trust me; you don’t want your first time to be your first time.”

“I haven’t done anything like that,” a shocked Zoe admitted.

“That’s a good suggestion,” Paige chimed in from the back seat. “I hadn’t done anything before I did it with Kevin, and it really hurt at first. Luckily I was already pretending to struggle so he didn’t notice anything!”

“Dean may be a fucking prince among men,” Claudia continued, “but a boy looking at a pussy with his dick out isn’t going to be thinking about anything except how soon he can get it inside you. If you aren’t ready for him, it’s gonna hurt. If you are ready, it’s fucking great.” She darted a glance at the back seat. “I bet that wasn’t the last time you had something in your cunt, right, Paige?”

“Damn right!” she responded, apparently emboldened by the flow of the conversation. “Last week, I bought a zucchini at the market and used that bad boy three nights in a row!”

“Am I living in a fucking convent?” shrieked Claudia. “Garden vegetables?! Don’t you guys have any dildos or vibrators?” Her abashed audience both shook their heads. “Totally un-fucking-acceptable!” She sighed, “I suppose I’m going to have to show you two the ropes.”

She went silent after that, leaving Zoe to wonder what exactly Claudia meant. Her driver’s intended plan became clearer a few miles later when they slowed down, and then turned into the empty lot in front of the Leopard’s Lair.

“We can’t go in there,” objected Zoe, looking at the large “ADULTS ONLY” sign posted next to the door. It was bad enough just being in the parking lot of the notorious store that promised to “help you change your spots” with its collection of videos, novelties, and marital aids.

“Don’t be a chicken,” Claudia chided her while getting out of the car. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been here. Just keep your fucking cool and follow my lead, okay?”

Zoe dreaded standing on her abused feet and wasn’t at all sure about entering the store, but Claudia was waiting for her and Paige was pounding on the seatback. The only thing worse would be to have somebody drive by and recognize them. That thought was sufficient to propel her out of the car and into the store.

That brought her face to face with the middle-aged man sitting behind the counter reading a People magazine. He sat up, setting the magazine aside, to look more closely at the three girls. None of them looked remotely old enough to evade the “we card everyone under 40” policy splashed across the wall behind him.

“Hi, Claudia,” he greeted them, “I see you brought a few friends along this time.”

She smiled, responding, “Hey, Andy. Meet Zoe and Paige.”

“Nice to meet you, girls,” he nodded. “Now, you all know you look young enough that I’ll have to see your ID before you can come in.”

That sounded like an insurmountable problem to Zoe, but Claudia replied, “sure — here’s my ID,” and lifted her top, flashing her tits at him.

“Very nice, you’re good as always,” Andy leered, drinking in the vision of high firm breasts and dangling nipple ring. He transferred his expectant attention to Zoe. Claudia dropped her top and gave the blonde a meaningful look.

Miffed at getting sucked into this by Claudia, Zoe considered just leaving — but then she’d have to wait outside in view of passers-by. She unzipped her hoodie and pulled up the knit top underneath; unlike Claudia, she was wearing a bra.

“I don’t know, I can’t quite make out the year,” drawled Andy, obviously wanting more. Looking daggers at Claudia, Zoe pulled the bra up over the swell of her breasts, revealing them to his greedy eyes. “Oh, yup, I see it now. Funny, isn’t it? I’d never have figured you for 21, but there you go!” Zoe didn’t bother to try and reposition the bra before yanking down her top and zipping the hoodie.

Paige, having watched her friends, was prepared for her turn and didn’t hesitate to expose herself. Unlike the other girls, her engorged nipples stood out erectly from her pale breasts — a point her audience noticed immediately.

“That’s the finest looking identification I’ve seen in ages,” Andy admitted, leaning forward to examine the nipples more closely. It was starting to look like he might reach out to touch Paige’s tits — and she might allow it — but Claudia pulled Paige’s hands down, ending the peep show.

“You only have to examine our IDs, Andy, not fondle them,” she said tartly. “And you know none of it’s fake.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he sighed. “Feel free to browse, and let me know if I can help you with anything.”

With the casual ease of familiarity, Claudia led her friends to the shelves displaying dildoes. Zoe was tempted to stop more than once along the way, but she felt Andy’s eyes on her ass and didn’t want to separate from the other girls.

“Both of you need one of these in the worst fucking way,” Claudia told them, gesturing at the merchandise. “In your cases, I’d suggest skipping the vibrators — they’re the next aisle over — since these are more discreet and don’t need power. Also, don’t bother with these stupid finger-sized ones unless you just want something you can use in public without anybody noticing.” Zoe eyed a monstrous rubber cock on the bottom shelf. “Stick with something reasonable, Zoe; you want to be ready for Dean, not some fucking horse. Paige, I guess you could get something bigger if you wanted.”

Zoe looked over the dildoes, trying to concentrate on ones that looked about the same size as Dean, but she was reluctant to pick up one while people were watching her. After a minute, Claudia wandered away to look at something else. Paige chose a black cock larger than the ones Zoe had been considering, hefted it, and then turned towards the far corner of the room.

“Where are you going?” asked Zoe, torn between wanting to stay with the others and wanting to not have her every action scrutinized.

Paige paused to reply. “I’m just gonna walk all of the aisles, and see what’s here,” she answered.

“Well, wait a minute and I’ll come with you,” Zoe said. She grabbed a flexible flesh-colored wand about an inch in diameter and maybe six or seven inches long. It looked plenty big enough for her, and the sooner they were out of this place, the happier she’d be.

The two girls strolled through the store, laughing a bit uneasily now and again at some particularly outrageous item that caught their attention. Zoe sped up as they passed the magazine and video displays, which were particularly graphic and seemed to cater especially to perverse tastes. She stopped suddenly at the “new releases” shelf, taking Paige by surprise, and actually picked up one DVD case to study it more carefully.

It was titled, “The Cock Also Rises.”. The cover picture was a close-up of a woman’s moist pussy, cropped just far enough out that you could see her legs were opened wide. There was no sign of pubic hair, and fingers adorned with glossy nails were spreading her to admit the head of a penis which projected from the bottom of the picture.

“What?” Paige asked, looking at Zoe.

Zoe looked at the back of the case, but it was blank. “I know it’s stupid, but does this look like Mariah to you?”

Paige barely glanced at it. “How would I know what Mariah’s cunt looks like?” She looked more closely at Zoe. “For that matter, how would you know what Mariah’s cunt looks like?”

Zoe’s face heated. “I don’t! There’s just something about the, well, expression of the body, or fingers, or something, that reminded me of her, that’s all. I did see her jill off during the opening assembly, remember.” She hurriedly put the case back on the shelf.

“Well, you could always buy it and watch,” Paige suggested. “You figure they’d have to show her face, and then you’d know.”

“There is no way I am spending that kind of money to buy a porno video! My God, can you imagine what would happen if my parents found it?” Zoe shuddered. “Come on; let’s see what Claudia’s doing.”

Claudia was up near the front of the store in the “breast accessories” section, trying on a bra. She’d removed her top, and was examining herself in a mirror. “Do you think this is too tight?” she asked as they approached.

The bra in question appeared to be constructed entirely of shiny black PVC, with the exception of a clasp between the cups. It squeezed her breasts tightly, forcing the areolas to bulge through cutouts in the cups. It looked painfully tight to Zoe, who said so.

“Actually, it’s more comfortable than I expected,” Claudia commented. “It’s nice to have something that isn’t binding on my ring for a change.”

“But what do you wear with something like that?” wondered Zoe, who was feeling a little confidence return now that everybody’s attention was focused somewhere other than herself.

Andy, who’d been watching the entire process, offered, “we have matching pants and skirts in that same line; I think the skirt would look great on you — and it’s a lot cheaper and easier to deal with.”

Claudia looked interested, but Zoe shook her head in frustration. “No, I meant what kind of top would you wear over the bra?”

The older girl aimed a pitying look at her. “Why would I wear anything over this? That would dilute the fashion statement, wouldn’t it?” She turned to Andy. “I’ll try the skirt — I don’t know if I’ll need a 2 or a 4.”

Andy was only too happy to locate the skirts, which looked more oversized placemats of slightly irregular shape than clothing. If he was hoping Claudia would try them on like she had the top, she quickly disabused him of that notion. “Zoe, can you help me in the changing room?”

“Sure,” the blonde replied, and the two girls headed for the changing room, leaving Paige to look over the other offerings on display.

“Just stand there and hold this,” Claudia directed once they were inside the room. Zoe obliged while the other girl quickly shucked off her jeans and wrapped one of the garments around her waist. The opposing ends met in a full-length zipper, which Claudia started at the waist before working the garment around until the zipper was behind her; then she closed it until the zipper reached just a bit below the curve of her butt. “What do you think?”

“I have to say it looks a little big,” Zoe admitted, looking at the slight gap at the top of the waistband. “Maybe you could just tug it down a little more?”

“Nope, it’s a little longer than I want already,” decided Claudia. She unzipped it, adding, “let’s try the other one.” This time, the brunette positioned it higher, nearly to her navel, and it clearly was tighter. “Damn it, I’m not going to be able twist this without some powder. Zoe, can you start it for me?” Zoe started to move to assist, but stopped when Claudia added, “no! Just stay there and I’ll come to you!”

With Claudia facing away from her, Zoe was able to get the zipper started and pulled it down to about the same location Claudia had stopped at before; now it was much closer to the bottom of the skirt.

“Pretty fucking hot, right?” Claudia asked as she turned and examined herself in the mirror. Zoe had to admit the brunette did look good in the outfit, even if seemed a bit, well, kinkier than she was comfortable with. “I think I’m getting both of them.”

A zip and a twist later, Claudia was down to only her thong; Zoe held the discarded PVC while the brunette pulled on her jeans and stepped into her flip-flops. Still topless, she headed back to the showroom. “Thanks for helping,” she laughed to Zoe.

“Why? I didn’t really do anything,” Zoe demurred, handing over the top and smaller skirt.

“You did plenty,” Claudia assured her. “There’s a fucking peephole in that room — you stood in front of it the entire time. Topless is one thing, but I don’t do peep shows!” With that, she pulled her top over her head and walked up to the register.

Paige had already made her purchase, now discreetly hidden in a plain brown bag. Andy hid his disappointment, if any, well and rang them up courteously. He even included a few lubricant samplers for Zoe and a small container of baby powder for Claudia. “Come visit us again real soon, ladies!” he called as they walked out the door into the autumn twilight.

November

The credits had just started rolling on the television when Dean, pleading sleepiness, excused himself from family movie night and headed for his bedroom. He’d never minded before, but this year weekends had started to seem unbearably long — Friday evening until Monday morning was just too long to be away from Zoe.

Secure behind the locked door of his room, Dean shed his clothing. As usual, his underwear was sticky with discharge from his cock, which had been partially erect most of the day and was hardening now in anticipation of relief. The teen fisted himself briefly until his tool was rigid and quivering.

Now was the time he most missed Zoe’s lips and tongue on his organ. Dean wondered again how much longer it would be before they lost their virginities to each other, and whether or not he could hold out until she decided to take the plunge. It was hard to wait, and harder to continue resisting Mariah’s advances, but Zoe had become more to him than just an incredibly hot girl and Dean didn’t want to screw that up.

Well, an incredibly hung up hot girl, he decided, glancing at his phone. He’d obliquely suggested phone sex once, but apparently the scars from her friend’s experiences went deep and Zoe had refused outright to have anything to do with it. Luckily blowjobs weren’t on the forbidden list, and he could look all he wanted. And being the yearbook/newsletter photographer meant he was one of the very few people, and only student, with a working camera on campus.

Conveniently, he could take a lot more pictures than many people realized. Dean tossed a towel on his desk chair and sat down in front of his computer, entering a password for his screensaver and then another to unlock the encrypted volume his parents didn’t know existed. He pulled up his favorite pictures, including the ones he’d taken of Mariah before her interview, and a recent one of Zoe leaving the pool after swim class.

Leaning back, the horny teen cupped his swollen balls and then slicked his meat with precum until it was glistening. Dean started stroking himself, considering who had the best tits, until he erupted onto his chest. There was something funky about the smell that turned him on and made him even harder, and he followed his usual practice of spreading it over his groin until his cock, balls, and ass were completely coated.

Typing slowly with just his left hand, Dean started a video he’d found on the Internet. It was untitled and he’d never located the source, but it showed a girl, wearing a skimpy white bikini, pulling herself out of a pool; she bore a casual resemblance to Zoe. The girl looked about, apparently seeing nobody, and her expression changed. The crotch of the swimsuit took on a distinctly yellow cast as more liquid began running down her legs, then she massaged herself through the suit as pee gushed to the deck.

Dean began fondling his sack and probing his asshole as the girl turned to look around again, stopping with her back to the camera. She squatted slightly and the back of the bikini bottoms began to bulge obscenely. Finally the growth stopped and the girl delicately ran a hand over her butt, tracing the contours of her deposit, before proceeding to knead it and press the suit into her crack until the white fabric was stained dirty brown and chunks of shit fell to the ground.

She had stopped to sniff her hand and look speculatively at the pool when she was interrupted by a man’s voice, shouting, “don’t you get my pool dirty, you filthy girl!” He strode into the picture, wearing white coveralls and carrying a pool brush which he dropped before grabbing her by the arm. A second man, similarly dressed, joined him.

“I knew it weren’t no dog,” the newcomer said to his partner.

“Just a bitch who needs to be taken care of,” agreed the first man. He pulled the ties on the bikini and stripped it from the girl, leaving her naked, before pushing her to the ground. She lay there, staring at the men, as they stripped off their coveralls; improbably, they wore no other clothing.

“Let’s clean this slut up,” one of the men said, and they both began peeing on the girl. She started fingering herself urgently as urine rained down on her. Soon one of them was pissing into her opened mouth while the other directed his flow onto her ass. Dean started spurting again, his cock trembling as it contracted and squeezed out a diminished load of semen.

It would have seemed unusual to him a few months before, but Dean wasn’t afraid to experiment and had grown accustomed to the changing needs of his body. After two relatively fast cums, his cock was harder than ever and he was craving the release of what he privately thought of as his “special orgasm.” The teen collected the scum clinging to the head of his rod and tasted it, then began exploring his asshole more deeply and rubbing just the head of his tool while watching the computer screen.

The two men were erect now, considering the girl, who was massaging her breasts and eyeing their cocks. “I think she still needs to be cleaned out,” one commented; he picked up a bottle of lotion from a poolside table and squeezed a healthy portion into one hand before running it greasily up and down his shaft. The girl scrambled sideways to kneel on the grass beside the deck, and a moment later the man was working himself into her ass.

From this camera angle, it was much easier for Dean to ignore the girl’s too-large breasts and dark roots, and imagine that it was Zoe and he was fucking her. It felt like his balls were going to explode, but Rich kept stroking two fingers into his back door while he mauled his glans and continued watching.

The second man began fucking the girl’s face. The trio jerked and grunted as they worked themselves towards climaxes. Tanned bodies strained and the girl fell forward, crying out in ecstasy, as both men bottomed out and spewed creamy loads into her. Dean was almost there…

The threesome pulled apart, with the camera zooming to capture the sperm leaking from the girl’s mouth and gaping ass. Wordlessly, the girl turned and began to lick her shit from the cock that had just been deep inside her.

Dean gasped, hit simultaneously by a searing pain that made it feel like his cock was going to tear off and a release that made him shake so violently he bit his tongue and his contracting anus threatened to amputate his fingers. Cum began spilling from his organ, but unlike his earlier orgasms, it was a continuous flow of faintly pinkish clear slime; this time it continued for nearly ten seconds — his longest yet.

Ignoring the video, Dean spread the slime across his body and massaged it into his skin until he glistened. His cock was still hard, but the driving need was gone. From past experience, the teen expected he’d gradually lose the erection over the next several hours. Just in case, and because it wasn’t worth risking permanent damage from priapism, he retrieved one of the suppositories Shefali had given him and pushed it deeply into his ass. It left a faint warmth as it began dissolving inside him.

Dean looked at himself in the mirror. Probably it was just the erection and the afterglow from his climax, but he could swear his penis and balls were larger than they had been a few months ago. It wasn’t quite the sort of thing a guy was comfortable with asking his girlfriend about; especially if she was a bit strait-laced.

The teen wished again he could share this incredible experience with Zoe, but oral stimulation alone didn’t seem to be enough to trigger it. Someday — hopefully soon — she’d be willing to go all the way with him, and he’d know what her sweet pussy felt like on his cock; or maybe, even her ass. He’d hadn’t even seen her naked! Not really, anyway… A swimsuit, lots of times, and that picture on the fabrication workstation, but not in the flesh. Did she shave herself down there? Was she a screamer? What if she could just act like a slut, for once? Dean felt the need stir inside him.

Zoe slammed the empty glass on the table and glared at Dean. “Are you even listening to me?” They were at Spots again, as usual.

“Yes, honestly,” he sighed, “although you are rather distracting.”

She warmed inside, although familiarity kept her skin from flushing now. She looked hot, and Zoe knew it.

By unspoken collective agreement, those who knew about the custom fabrication sales held this information closely. Simple observation revealed to everybody who was “in” and who wasn’t. In this hierarchy, Zoe ranked high, the first person after Mariah to wear her own “designer” clothing, and consistently one of the most polished and stylish, thanks to the collective “skunkworks” operated by herself, Paige, and Claudia.

Tonight, the blonde wore a fire-engine red “little black dress” that fit her like a second skin. The material was a little stretchy and fit so closely she didn’t need a bra, and a thong with elaborately patterned hose avoided any panty lines. She had no trouble now walking — or dancing — in the matching red 3-inch heels Dean insisted on calling “fuck-me pumps” even though they were in fact sandals. They’d cost Zoe far more than the rest of her outfit combined.

Of course, Zoe reflected, her parents would have had collective heart attacks had they seen her dressed like this. Like many of the other students, however, she finessed the problem by stopping at the school to change outfits before walking across the campus to Spots. She had the additional advantage of being able to stash clothing at Claudia’s house.

She and Dean had given up going other places. It was just easier here, where you didn’t worry about who might see you or who you might run into, and where people didn’t hassle you if you wanted to express yourself.

Zoe looked at Dean and smiled despite her intention to be angry with him. The sport jacket looked good on him, and she loved the way the slacks highlighted the long bulge in his crotch, as well as the extra-length zipper that made it so much easier to access…

“I’m just fed up with hunting Principal Edwards,” she sighed, recapping her frustration. “Nobody else really knows anything, and he’s so elusive!”

Dean knocked back a long draught of his iced tea and sought to reassure her. “Zoe, you are the best damned researcher and investigator I’ve seen.” With a smirk, he added, “and I mean that both visually and professionally. I’m confident you will succeed in cornering our beloved leader.”

“Yeah, but where?” she griped, trying not to let it turn into a whine. “The only places you ever see him are here and at school. Either way, he disappears in his office and nobody can get at him.”

“Well, look,” Dean offered. “I can follow him, and see where he goes. He must live somewhere; if you go to his house, he’ll have to come out and talk to you sometime. Right?”

Zoe nodded in glum agreement. It didn’t really sound like such a bad plan, except it meant they’d have to split up — the principal had an unpredictable schedule, and Spots closed after her parents expected her to be home. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t see him the next day, but she hated to miss the necking and blowjob that usually ended their outings.

“Is Claudia here tonight?” It was a rhetorical question, and they both started scanning the room, looking for the abrasive senior.

With the familiarity of regulars, they unconsciously filtered out most of what they saw, not letting the common landscape distract their search. A couple engaged in heavy petting in the far corner, the girl half undressed — but her hair wasn’t Claudia’s color, move on. Guys swapping stories about the latest movie they’d seen, move on. Mariah, surrounded by rapt onlookers, doing a solo platform dance and openly masturbating herself while staring directly at Zoe and Dean… Zoe still found that unsettling, but moved on. More guys, doing a drinking contest, which seemed kind of pointless (but apparently popular) in a joint where the strongest drink was vitamin water, move on. Random dancers, move on. Kevin, dancing with Jana, who had her hand down his pants while he glared over her shoulder, move on but what was he looking at?

Surprisingly, Zoe saw he was watching Joanne and Claudia dancing together. That explained Kevin’s frown, although it was a weird pairing. The two girls weren’t exactly dancing together so much as dancing at each other. As Zoe watched, she realized the two were mirroring each other, first one and then the other taking the lead in increasingly racy moves.

Zoe waved at Claudia several times, finally catching her friend’s attention just as Joanne led off a hip roll combined with a slap of her own butt. Claudia proceeded to mimic the hip roll, but slapped Joanne’s butt again instead of her own.

Joanne exploded in indignation, but was quickly silenced by Claudia who grabbed her by the neck and pulled her close for a rough kiss. Claudia said something to her and pushed Joanne, who now looked merely flustered, in the general direction of Kevin and Jana. Jana pulled her hand from Kevin’s pants as if she’d found a live coal.

“Interesting,” commented Dean, who’d also observed all of the interplay, as Claudia made her way over to them. The senior was wearing a long slinky draped top, which originally had been intended to be worn over a tank and a bottom. Claudia had gotten Paige to lengthen the design slightly, and dispensed with both of the other garments. She still wore her old boots, claiming they were just too comfortable to give up.

“Barbie, Ken, how’re things?” Claudia greeted them. She snatched and drained Dean’s glass without asking.

“Hey, Claudia,” Zoe said. “I was wondering if you could give me a ride home. Dean needs to stay and I don’t want to miss my curfew.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?” Claudia rolled her eyes. “You’re giving up this” — Dean jumped as she grabbed his package — “for a fucking curfew?” She looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. “God help you, you are so fucking innocent. Come on, let’s go.”

Zoe kissed Dean goodnight — passionately, with serious tongue — and the girls started cross campus to pick up Zoe’s clothes.

“You look fucking hot, Barbie,” Claudia complemented her as they walked. “I’m glad to see my fashion sense is rubbing off on you. I hope you’ve sealed the deal with that boy.”

“My parents didn’t raise me to be that kind of girl,” Zoe said, chin stubbornly raised.

“Jesus H. Fucking Christ!” exploded Claudia, stopping in amazement. “You haven’t fucked him yet?! What the fuck are you waiting for, Zoe? You know Mariah’s probably back there right now, making a fucking wet spot on his leg, right? I don’t think ‘wait’ is in her fucking vocabulary.”

Zoe looked like she might cry as Claudia’s surmise hit her secret fears head-on. “It’s just not who I am. I am not some slut. Besides, if all Dean thinks about is getting laid, then maybe he’s not the boy for me.”

Claudia forbore to press the obviously upset blonde any further, and the rest of the trip home alternated between silences and inane conversation.

Zoe entered her home before the appointed time, modestly clad in jeans and knit top. She demurely kissed her parents good night and retreated to her bedroom.

Once the door was safely closed behind her, the teen shed her clothing and scrutinized herself again in the mirror. She was beautiful, as beautiful as Mariah, she told herself. “Dean thinks I’m hot,” Zoe whispered. Hot enough to wait for? She opened her sock drawer and unearthed her dildo.

Sinking naked on her bed, Zoe imagined Dean the way she’d seen him that night. She imagined unzipping him, caressing his throbbing rod until it trembled. Instead of kneeling before him, she’d lie back, spreading to reveal her wetness to him. He’d lower himself on her, easing his burning cock into her needy pussy the same way she inserted the dildo now, until he filled her up. Then he’d start sawing in and out, slowly at first and then faster, rubbing against her pleasure bud, until it became hard for her to breathe. He’d cup her breasts and tease her nipples just the way she liked, and then fill her up and twist the nipple almost painfully, just like she was doing now, until she arched off the bed and orgasmed.

She brought herself off twice, but the dildo never spasmed inside her like the fantasy Dean, and it never rewarded her with the creamy spunk, tasting of him, Zoe loved so well. That night, she dreamed Mariah stood before her, Dean’s cum leaking from her cunt, and laughingly invited Zoe to join her.

Zoe was still unsettled the next morning, not helped by being unable to connect with Dean before first period. Now she worried about the previous evening, wondering if Dean had been able to trail Mr. Edwards, and what — if anything — Mariah might have done, and when she could be alone with Dean. She had Paige, chattering beside her, more than half tuned out.

It was funny, really. Zoe had never met anybody as cold-bloodedly Machiavellian, in a harmless way, as the younger Ward sister. Paige over-obsessed and over-analyzed everything. It amazed Zoe how much time Paige could spend examining and blocking a pattern, remorselessly estimating and fine-tuning it.

Paige and Zoe were walking together now because the general P.E. classes had rotated to the pool for the remainder of the quarter, joining those in the original swimming class. Zoe had been pleased to discover both of them had elected to continue with swimming after the holiday break, but as usual Paige had gone overboard. Zoe liked the exercise and the warm water. Paige, after careful consideration, had explained, “swimming provides a more consistent level of physical fitness and whole-body toning. It’s healthier, and makes you more attractive.”

At the moment, Paige was beginning to elaborate her plan for a personal relationship that “Joanne won’t screw up this time.” Zoe sighed; she’d heard about the tangle with Kevin many times now and it was hard for her to pin the blame on Joanne. Paige just seemed laughably inept dealing with romance, although she never stopped considering in advance how to head off all possible perils. Where was Dean, anyway? Zoe thought as her mind returned to its familiar rut.

Squeals and laughter from the showers derailed Zoe’s mental rambling and Paige’s monologue. Against her better judgment, Zoe followed Paige’s nod and they detoured to peer around the corner from the locker room; at this time of day, it would be the senior girls finishing up first period.

Sure enough, a bunch of the older girls were clustered together under the communal spray, naked and slippery. As usual, there was a lot more groping and fondling going on than was needed for rinsing off chlorine.

“Go on!” somebody urged, and the bodies shifted, revealing Mariah in the center of a circle of girls. A few of them supported Mariah from behind, and Zoe recognized Jana and Joanne crouched in front, examining Mariah’s bald pussy.

“Like, do it, Jana!” Joanne encouraged her friend. Do what, lick her? Zoe wondered, remembering her dream. She hadn’t realized Mariah was completely shaved, although it wasn’t too much of a surprise considering her wardrobe choices. Would that look appeal to Dean?

Jana, arguably the slightest build of the girls there, formed a fist and slowly began pushing her hand into Mariah’s cunt. Amazingly, it disappeared entirely! Mariah smiled angelically at her rapt audience. Jana, giggling now, began pumping her forearm in and out while Joanne leaned in to examine matters more closely.

Mariah’s smile widened and she started peeing. Jana squawked as the warm torrent splashed down her arm. Her hand, momentarily trapped inside Mariah, made it impossible to escape. Joanne shrieked and turned aside as yellow droplets spattered her face and breasts.

The other girls laughed, a bit unkindly Zoe thought, as Jana finally freed her hand and fell backwards on her butt. Mariah steered her golden stream back onto the student council president’s body.

Zoe’s attention was on Joanne, who started laughing as she licked her fingers and watched Jana. “You guys! This is, like, so nasty!” she exclaimed breathlessly. Incredulously, Zoe watched as Joanne extended her tongue and leaned towards Mariah’s spray —

“Gross!” Paige vented with unusual emotion, tugging Zoe back from the corner before stomping along to the lockers. Their favorite spot in the corner was free; the short row offered a little more privacy.

“Don’t you think that was a bit unusual?” Zoe asked, as the pair of them shrugged off their uniform jackets.

“No,” Paige replied, “Joanne’s always been hyper.” She continued undressing, apparently oblivious to the other aspects of the scene they’d witnessed. When she removed her bra, Zoe saw Paige sported a pair of nipple clamps joined by a fine chain!

“Paige! What in the world are those?” It was an effort for Zoe to remember to keep her voice down.

The other girl looked at her but responded with a non sequitur instead: “Zoe! Have you been thinking about Dean again?”

Zoe looked down at herself; her powder blue underwear showed an obvious wet spot. Embarrassed, she pushed the boyshorts to the floor and admitted, “Some, yes.” There was nobody, possibly including herself, to whom she would admit that some of the dampness was due to Mariah, too. It was impossible not to give herself a quick stroke or two, but there was no way she was going to jill off in front of Paige or anybody else. She scooped the underwear from the floor, tossed it in the locker, and picked up her swimsuit.

“Well?” Paige prompted. “Spill! Have you talked to him yet?” She hissed in pain as she removed the clamps from her swollen nipples.

“Of course we talk! Every day! We really like being with each other.” Zoe wriggled slowly into her suit; her body had a bit more tone in it than when she’d started the school year.

“It is so pathetic that I, of all people, have to be the one to tell you this,” Paige began. She started pulling on her own suit. “You need to tell Dean how you feel about him, Zoe. That you love him, if you do. Think about your situation rationally. Dean is yours to lose, but everybody at this school knows Mariah is gunning for him and you know she won’t hesitate a second.”

“I do love him,” Zoe confided, and tried to organize her thoughts. “It’s just hard for me to talk about. I don’t want to make a rash decision like Amber did and regret it” — Paige nodded — “so I keep holding off, hoping I’ll recognize the right moment when it comes.” She shrugged helplessly. “It hasn’t come yet.”

“Maybe I can help with that,” Mariah’s sultry voice crooned in Zoe’s ear. A wet arm wrapped around her to cup her breast as Zoe felt the other girl’s wet skin press against the length of her body from behind. “I hate it when things haven’t cum yet,” she whispered suggestively, tonguing the blonde’s ear.

Zoe whirled to disengage herself from the unwanted embrace and stepped back to face Mariah, who stood dripping and naked alongside the open locker.

“Poor needy Zoe.” Mariah’s innocent features showed a sorrow Zoe knew couldn’t be genuine. “She hasn’t cum; her little nip-nips are so hard.” The redhead’s roving eye inspected the locker, and she removed the blue underwear, dangling it in front of her by a fingertip and inspecting the crotch. Zoe blushed in silent humiliation.

“Why, Zoe, you are needy, aren’t you? Poor little creamy puss, just dripping for attention.” She laughed, lightly. “What is your juicy little snatch craving? What do you feed it? Does it want fingers, or tongues, or vibrators? Maybe it wants cocks.” Mariah pursed her lips and crumpled Zoe’s underwear into her fist.

“No, it couldn’t be cocks, could it? I’m sure little puss-puss hasn’t seen a cock. It wouldn’t know what it’s missing. A hard, hot shaft like Dean has, for example.” Mariah gauged the effect of her commentary by the expression on Zoe’s face and continued. “It wouldn’t know that pussies are made for cocks like that, made to be filled up by cocks like that. Maybe you cream yourself thinking of last night, thinking of what might have happened if you hadn’t left.”

Mariah’s hand lowered and she began to stroke herself delicately. “You might have stayed awhile longer and seen poor Dean’s cock trapped with nowhere to go. You could have released it, and marveled at the way you could make it twitch and grow with a caress. You could have put your little creamy cream to good use, making yourself inviting for him, letting him slide — ever — so — slowly — into you.” Mariah began pushing the balled-up panties into herself, but Zoe didn’t notice, her stricken eyes locked on Mariah’s.

“Your little cunny wouldn’t have to imagine the feeling of being spread, of being impaled on a rigid pole jackhammering into you.” Mariah fingered herself more urgently as she got into it. “You’d know the sensations you get when he tenses up and unloads into you and that hot spunk sprays your insides.” She trembled in orgasmic delight and calmed again.

“And you’d know the tingly feeling,” Mariah concluded, slowly withdrawing Zoe’s panties from herself, “when it’s not just your girlie-cum dripping out of you, but Dean’s too.”

“One of us will have to keep imagining, I guess. Oh well.” With that parting jibe, Mariah turned her back on the frozen pair and sauntered away.

Zoe sank abruptly to the bench. “Oh God, did she say –?”

“Technically, not exactly,” Paige began, but realized belatedly it wasn’t what Zoe needed to hear. “No! Hell, no! C’mon Zoe, you know Dean. He wouldn’t do that to you, right?”

“Right. He loves me!” Zoe tried to remain positive. “I think…” She choked back a sob.

Paige looked uneasily at the emotional blonde. “Hey, let’s go, Zoe, okay? We’re late for class.”

“You go,” Zoe shook her head. “I’m just going to sit here for awhile; I’m not up facing anybody right now.”

“Sure?”

Zoe waved her away. “I’m sure. Thanks for being a friend.” She sat, empty inside, as Paige’s footsteps faded into the now-quiet locker room.

The quiet reflection gave way to muted anger. Paige was right; Dean wouldn’t have done that to her, and the sneaky way Mariah implied it without having actually said so fairly screamed “duplicity” once she had a chance to step back from her emotions and consider it.

What had she done to deserve any of this? Why was Mariah always so mean to her? Zoe didn’t even really sense that the other girl hated her. The decision jelled in an instant. She was an investigator — and if she wanted an answer to something, she asked. Besides, she was tired of always being off-balance and on the defensive every time she encountered Mariah.

Without giving herself time to think and talk herself out of it, Zoe trailed the wet footprints across the locker room. As if they were needed, she thought wryly; naturally Mariah was using the most-exposed location in the room, at the end of the center row.

The senior, who was applying lotion to her legs while still in the buff, looked up at the sound of Zoe’s approach. “Zoe, nice to see you again so soon.”

“Mariah, why are you doing these things? Why did you say those things about Dean? What do you want from me?” Why do I feel intimidated, when I’m the girl in clothing, and you’re not?

Mariah smiled at her. This one was genuine and Zoe felt an unwanted flutter. “Zoe, I do things because I enjoy them. And you might do better to ask, ‘what do you want?'”

“What do I want? My underwear, for one,” the blonde snapped, catching sight of her boyshorts hanging on the door of Mariah’s locker.

The older girl snagged them and brought them to her face with a sigh of appreciation. “Mmmm, delicious,” she purred after inhaling deeply. “Although the original scent is a little muddled now, I suppose.” She held out the underwear, unmoving, until Zoe stepped close enough to take them; they felt completely sodden.

“But what I really want,” Zoe emphasized, “is an answer to my question. Why?”

Mariah laughed, “such a big question in such a little word! I told them you were never going to let go!”

Zoe fought for her best poker face, while her mind raced. Who was the “them” Mariah mentioned? It didn’t make sense that it was any of her classmates; could she mean Principal Edwards? If so, who else? She determined to keep the conversation going, whatever it took.

“But look, Zoe,” continued Mariah, “I’m serious now. What do you want? What do you really want from life?”

It wasn’t the place, or the audience, Zoe wanted for a conversation like this. But she sensed she couldn’t fob a bullshit answer off on Mariah and keep her engaged. “Self-respect,” she offered, thoughtfully. It was the thing she felt she’d lost last year, with Amber, and still wasn’t confident she’d regained.

“Good,” agreed Mariah, “but what do you do with it? Can you respect a person who wants nothing, does nothing?”

“I want to be a journalist, to be intelligent and use it for something. To have a boyfriend, and spend time with him,” Zoe added with a pointed look.

“I want to live,” Mariah rejoined, first cupping her breasts and then stretching her arms wide and inhaling deeply. “You should want that too, Zoe. Google can regurgitate facts; the rest of us are the sum of our experiences. And I highly doubt,” she added with arched eyebrow, “that you want to spend time with Dean solely for the purpose of contemplating the intellectual perfection of mathematical proofs.”

It was a surprisingly good dissertation that forced Zoe to study the redhead with increased respect. “Okay, I’ll grant you that. But living life is not the same thing as being a slut!”

“Oh, slut is, like, such an overused word,” Mariah waved off the objection with a parody of Joanne so spot-on that Zoe couldn’t help but laugh. Mariah stepped closer, but not enough Zoe felt threatened. “Slut, whore, skank, whatever — I’ve heard them all. They’re little words used by little people who made different choices and are jealous because they didn’t get what we have.”

“Don’t waste yourself, Zoe!” Mariah urged. “You’re beautiful! Look at your body; it was made for living.” She began caressing herself. “Why would your nipples stand up like this and be so sensitive, if not to be touched and teased? Why bother to make us get so wet here, if not to welcome a man into us? Why give us a clit that serves no purpose other than pleasure? Humans are the only animals that fuck without desire for pregnancy.”

“Your mind knows all this, if you forget your preconceptions. Did you feel self-respect when you thought I hooked up with Dean, or were you regretting you didn’t fuck him yourself and mad that I might be getting what you let go by?” Mariah’s voice quieted. “Did you regret blowing Dean in the parking lot outside Spots?”

Zoe let out a startled gasp. “Eyes are watching,” Mariah quipped. “If self-respect means being willing to do the same thing again, I bet you respected yourself a lot since then.”

Mariah’s voice grew even softer. “Your body wants you to enjoy these things, Zoe. You didn’t wet yourself this morning because you enjoy world geography; I think it was because you were thinking about Dean and how it feels to be with him. I don’t think your nipples have been standing up in here because of the cold breeze; I think it’s because your body wants to be touched, even when you were upset and angry.”

“In fact, I think your lips are just as sensitive as mine, and your tummy will feel the same tingle mine does when they’re kissed…” Zoe closed her eyes as Mariah leaned in the tiny remaining distance and their lips brushed.

Mariah’s lips were softer and fuller than Dean’s, but just as exciting. Mariah pulled her closer and their tongues met and probed each other. Zoe moaned softly at the promised tightening and need inside her, and marveled at the feel of breasts and nipples pressed against hers. She ran her hands through Mariah’s damp hair as Mariah’s thigh ground against her suddenly soaking pubic mound.

A rising crescendo of intermingled conversations and footsteps signaled the impending end of the period. Zoe reflexively pushed Mariah away, feeling very hot, bothered and bewildered. “I can’t, Mariah,” she gasped breathlessly. “Self respect. I just can’t do this to Dean.”

The senior’s questioning look disappeared, replaced by the angel-gone-bad expression Zoe knew so well. “I respect that, Zoe, really. For what it’s worth, Dean said almost the same thing last night — and that’s after I got him to cream his pants! But I’m warning you, girl: you’re just way too sweet to resist, and I always get my woman. Or man.”

Zoe nearly floated back to her locker. Dean was still hers! Remembering the underwear still clutched in her hand, she held it to her nose and inhaled; the aroma was almost hers, but not quite. She couldn’t resist a lick, but the fabric wasn’t quite damp enough to get any taste.

Paige was already partially dressed, fiddling with her nipple clamps. “Hey, Zoe. Are you feeling better? I told Coach Gold you had ‘feminine issues’.”

“Much better; thanks for covering for me.” Zoe skimmed off her suit, but hesitated. Instead of donning the abused shorts, she pushed them inside her glistening folds the way she’d watched Mariah do it. She’d find a way to share them with Dean, later, and she couldn’t wait to discuss the subtleties — edited, of course — of her conversation with Mariah. After that? Zoe still wasn’t ready to go all the way — with anybody — but maybe it was worth remembering that oral could go both ways.

Zoe finished fastening her bra and glanced up to see Paige looking at her quizzically. “Paige, tell me again. What’s the deal with those clamps?”

December

Hank admitted Judy Haskell to the back office at Spots, and relocked the door behind her. She quietly crossed the floor to stand beside Paul Edwards, who was gazing at the wall.

When its power was engaged, as now, the normally translucent wall panel effectively became a full width, full height, one-way mirror that looked into the rear “event room” at the club.

“I think you have a problem,” Judy remarked conversationally, taking in the view of the orgy in progress.

“Oh?” Paul crooked a brow at her before turning back to resume his study of the three large LCD displays stacked down the left side of the wall. They showed the viewpoints of the HD camcorders next door that were focused on the participants. He pressed a button on the remote in his hand, and the sounds of urgent panting emerged from concealed speakers.

Mariah lay on her back atop a sturdy coffee table, legs spread wide, as Jana knelt in front of her and repeatedly pumped her fist in and out of the redhead’s flowering pussy. Both girls were streaked with semen and their bodies glistened. Three boys stood around them, making crude comments and peeing on the pair, aiming their streams at Mariah’s breasts, Jana’s back and ass, and any skin that didn’t appear drenched already.

“That Ryan girl cornered me at the office,” Judy continued with a brief hitch in her voice. “She asked a number of awkward questions.”

Kevin had stepped into range of the cameras, his large reddened cock rampantly erect and quivering, and rammed it into Jana from behind so hard his cock seemed to lift her from the ground momentarily. The petite student president had to ignore the other girl and use both hands to brace herself against the table while he started to jackhammer her cunt.

The other boys pulled Mariah to the far end of the table and began slapping her repeatedly, paying special attention to her tits and ass. Most of the blows were punctuated by cries of “bitch,” “slut” and the like. Mariah’s panting grew deeper but she made no attempt to evade them, focusing instead on their hardening cocks.

“Yes, she’s been surprisingly persistent,” Paul agreed as he resumed the conversation. “I’ve felt rather under siege myself, as you know. I trust you had suitably appropriate answers?”

“Of course.” Judy drew a deep breath as she watched her sweet daughter writhe in ecstasy as she was triple-penetrated by the boys. “But it’s clear she’s suspicious, especially of your finances. I think she suspects the existence of your little operation here, too.”

Next door, Kevin pulled out and sprayed cum wildly over Jana’s back and hair. It was Paul’s turn for a brief sigh. “I’d hoped your little slut of a daughter would do a better job of distracting her.”

The panting on the speakers gave way to short grunts as Mariah’s partners clenched their buttocks and shuddered in orgasm. All three cameras captured the event in vivid detail.

“Okay, great, cut,” one of the cameramen instructed the participants. The boys began pulling away, but as her mouth emptied, Mariah screamed, “don’t leave me now, you fuckers!” She threw her weight backwards, pinning the stud in her ass, and wrapped her legs around the partner in front. The redhead commenced bucking wildly between them.

A groan from his side captured Paul’s attention. He turned to see Judy leaning against the wall, knees buckling as she tried to drive her hand up her sopping cunt.

“Yes, well, both of you are a tad flighty. I can’t fault her energy in the pursuit of Ryan and, um, Killian.” Perceiving Judy’s attention remained focused next door, Paul stepped to her side and pulled Judy’s hand free. “Unfortunately, both of you tend to forget this is supposed to be a team effort — and not a quest for personal gratification.” He twisted Judy’s arm down, immobilizing her.

Another press of the remote activated an intercom. “Get Mariah settled down, then get the others cleaned up and sent home,” Paul ordered the camera crew. “Then reset the cameras. I think it’s time SoWet Productions shot its first mother and daughter piercing video.”

That statement was punctuated by the spatter of Judy’s urine gushing onto the office carpet as her bladder voided itself. “And tell the cleaning crew to do my carpeting tonight.”

Zoe trudged glumly toward the Hyde cafeteria. The quarter was almost over, and what should have been a great morning had turned out just as frustrating as the last few months.

She’d finally gotten her long-sought, no-questions-barred, formal interview with Principal Edwards. Zoe wasn’t clear why he’d changed his mind after eluding her so successful and for so long. As far as she and Dean could determine, he didn’t live anywhere except at school. An ambush interview with Judy Haskell at her house had been intriguing but inconclusive, and frankly Zoe had been twitchy about being so close to Mariah’s “lair”.

Anyway, her talk with the principal had left her feeling icky. He oozed past her questions, smiling insincerely, rambled at length without making a point, and often provided worthless sound bites that didn’t even address the questions she asked.

As if that weren’t enough, it had been topped off with even less subtle than usual not-so-veiled hints from Ms. Petersen and Joanne that it was time to wrap up this series and start work on something new.

At least being around Dean always cheered her up, and he always made a sympathetic audience for her venting.

Zoe spotted him at their usual table as she made her way across the cafeteria with her lunch tray, but he wasn’t alone. Mariah was there.

Since their locker room heart-to-heart, Zoe had found she wasn’t as fearful of Mariah as she had been. Or at least, she wasn’t fearful of Mariah in the same way. Knowing why she and Dean were targets for Mariah’s attention was nice, even flattering, but didn’t remove the danger. Zoe respected the senior as an opponent who was much more intelligent and perceptive than first impressions suggested, and treated her the way one might a loaded gun that had no safety.

Now, Mariah was sitting on the table in front of Dean, legs spread to either side and doubtless presenting a very entertaining view. He wasn’t able to appreciate it because she was kissing him, cradling his head with both hands.

Zoe felt a surge of territorial possessiveness and increased her pace.

While she was still several tables away, Mariah broke the embrace with a laugh. She swung one leg slowly up and over Dean’s head — providing him with a serious beaver shot — and rose to saunter towards Zoe.

The blonde opened her mouth to issue a warning, but Mariah stepped right into her with a passionate kiss and a grab at her ass. Zoe was annoyed, but couldn’t help sucking a moment on Mariah’s tongue while she tried to balance the food on her tray. A few wolf whistles sounded from adjacent tables. “Any time, juicy-girl,” the tease reminded her, before continuing on her way.

Zoe finally made it to the table and nearly fell into her chair. Ironically, Dean wore an expression that matched her exasperation. “Don’t they know nothing is going on?” she asked.

“Nope,” he smiled. “You know Mariah.” It was a common complaint. Everybody knew the senior cut a wide swath through the student body. Misguided — to Zoe’s mind — rumors of a hookup between herself and Mariah were common knowledge on campus the same day it had happened. Everybody — except Zoe, apparently — had known Mariah had given Dean a hand job at Spots. The difference, to the public eye, was that whereas Mariah was infamously casual in her liaisons, her repeated and public attentions to Dean and Zoe suggested something even steamier must be going on in private.

The knowing looks from neighbors added to the frustrations of the morning. Zoe took a long pull from her water bottle, which quenched her thirst but not her emotions. “This place is making me crazy.”

“Mariah is making me crazy,” Dean rejoined.

“She’s the least of my annoyances,” sighed Zoe. Collecting herself, she proceeded to recount her experiences of the morning between bites of her sandwich and sips of water.

Finally, she summarized, “They’ve got me locked on the outside.” After a growl of frustration, Zoe added, “I’m never going to learn about what’s going on this way.”

Dean captured her hand and squeezed it. “We’ll think of something.” The pair shared a contemplative silence.

“Mariah,” Zoe decided. “It feels like she’s in the middle of everything.”

“She is Principal Edwards’ little brown-noser,” Dean agreed. “Her offhand comments seem to have been more interesting than anything you’ve gotten elsewhere, and she’s always going around with her mom. She probably knows a lot, and could learn more if she wanted to.”

He hesitated before continuing. “And you have a good chance of getting it from her, seeing as how she’s hot for you.”

Zoe, in the middle of another pull of water from her bottle, choked. “What?!” She caught her breath. “What about you? Look at the way she was coming on before I got here!”

“Ummm,” stalled Dean, “that may be… Although sometimes I think I’m just a way for her to get at you, nothing personal. But I think you might have more opportunities to get close to her. And frankly, I’m a little scared to be alone with her!”

“Dean, I don’t know. I love you. I told her that, just like I told you — even if I was a bit tardy.” Zoe smiled sheepishly. “I’m not going to change now. Why would she believe me?”

“Well, two things,” he responded. “I don’t think Mariah treats these things the way you do, so she may not think a little physical gratification has anything to do with our relationship.” Zoe nodded, although she wondered if perhaps the redhead understood her well enough to know she didn’t share that attitude.

“And I’m not saying you should do anything. She only needs to think you might; you know, encourage her a bit.”

Zoe thought the prospect of encouraging Mariah felt more than a bit like feeding raw meat to a tiger. “Okay, mister. But you’re gonna owe me, big-time.”

“Big time?” Dean teased. “You’re the one that started this little expose. I’ll only owe you little time. Like, say, dinner and a movie?” He directed an inquiring look at her.

“Dinner, movie, and you go down on me this time,” she counter-offered with a smile.

“You drive a hard bargain!” They toasted each other with their water bottles.

As usual, Zoe and Claudia sat next to each other on the bus ride home. Claudia, also as usual, had wasted no time in shucking her bra. She massaged out the itch in her ornamented nipple, but Zoe paid no attention to her friend.

All of the passengers, Zoe included, were sneaking furtive looks at the couple fucking noisily on the back seat. They were effectively anonymous, heads out of view, and dressed in the same uniform everybody else wore. Their moans were arousing, but not distinctive.

Her date with Dean had been on her mind already, and this was really getting Zoe worked up. She caught her hand drifting towards her damp pussy and jerked it back to her side. “Couldn’t they wait?” she hissed to Claudia.

“Who’d want to, Jo — Zoe?” sighed Claudia. “I could use a good fuck about now.”

“Yeah,” whispered Zoe, nearly inaudible. She began chewing on her lip.

Other viewers were less amused. Paul sighed as he turned away from the monitor on his desk to face Hannah Petersen and Mariah Haskell. Zoe’s conflicted expression was visible in the corner of the monochrome fisheye video, and tinny moans emerged from the speakers framing the monitor.

“Hannah, you’re the guidance counselor. I trust you will stress to your students that this is unacceptable behavior.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll have a talk with, um,” — Hannah paused to peer more closely at the screen and listen to an unusually loud squeal — “Crystal, Tony, and the others and remind them they need to restrain themselves off campus. Would you like to take any disciplinary action?” She waited hopefully for his reply.

Mariah had lost interest in the conversation. Instead she held Paul’s office stapler, opened flat. Lips moist and parted, she slowly and methodically began driving staples through her blouse into her breasts. She jerked slightly at each squeeze, panting with a mixture of pain and excitement.

“No discipline,” Paul decided. “We have more important matters before us. It’s time to end this farce with Zoe Ryan. I don’t like having to waste my time dancing around with these damn ‘interviews’ and I want an end to her digging. Hannah, I thought I made it clear this project was to be ended!”

“I’m working on it,” Hannah protested. “I had a very firm discussion with her this afternoon and told her to stop any further work.” She felt it necessary to leave a little wiggle room, and explained, “but Zoe isn’t very tractable — she’s very committed to doing things her own way. I thought perhaps Joanne, as editor, could help, but she seems to be unusually distracted lately and I don’t think Zoe takes her seriously. But I promise today will be the end of it.”

“Mmpfh.” Paul was unsatisfied but didn’t sense any more could be gotten from that quarter. “Mariah, you’re such the little slut, how come you don’t have Zoe eating out of your gash yet, instead of running around with her notebook?”

“Soon,” Mariah promised breathily, “she’s almost mine. She told me today she wanted to be my friend.” The white of her uniform blouse was dotted with bright red spots, marking the locations of the staples.

“Make it happen, both of you,” ordered Paul. “We have no more time for these distractions. And visit the nurse and change that blouse!” He yanked the stapler out of Mariah’s grasp.

Zoe flipped through her magazine idly and tossed it back on the table. It felt weird to wear “normal” clothes for her night out with Dean. She’d cheated a bit with the skirt, but she didn’t want him to have any difficulty reaching her when she claimed her reward. Zoe’s crotch was soaking with anticipation, although she’d brought herself off twice in the shower before dressing.

Was this the person she wanted to be? Zoe wondered. Would she regret any of this later? “Mom, what makes somebody a slut?” she asked.

Becky Ryan looked up from the newspaper with concern. Ken was out of town again, and she feared this was going to be one of those mother-daughter conversations she’d been dreading. Becky knew Zoe had grown much attached to Dean, who seemed a nice enough boy — for a teen awash in raging hormones. And Zoe spent a lot of time next door with Claudia, who didn’t appear to be a very positive role model.

“A slut?” she repeated. “Oh dear, Zoe. Somebody who has sexual intercourse with lots of different people, I suppose.” Dreading the answer, she had to ask, “You aren’t doing that, are you, honey?”

“No, mom, of course not,” Zoe replied, sounding almost offended. Everyone at school knew that hand jobs and blowjobs didn’t count, and besides, she only did that with Dean. “It’s just, what makes people do things like that?” Shyly, she confessed, “I haven’t done anything like that! But I have, well, urges.”

Her mother laughed gently, relieved. “Honey, that’s normal; it’s part of growing up. I’m not so old that I don’t remember what it was like to be a teenager! But it’s important to be responsible and not doing anything you’ll regret. Your father and I both hope you’ll wait, but at least remember to use protection if you can’t.”

Zoe thought of the package of condoms stashed in the back of her underwear drawer, received — with parental advice — when she’d entered high school. She’d die rather than recount that story to anyone, and the condoms probably were fossilized by now.

“I can wait,” the teen reassured Becky. “But it’s hard, sometimes.”

“Yes, your Dean is a very handsome young man. But I assure you, Zoe, being attracted to him does not make you a slut. You are a fine, upstanding daughter, and I’m very proud of you.”

It was hardly reassuring to Zoe for her mother and Mariah to have the same opinion on the subject. She ducked her head at the praise, wondering if her mother would feel the same way if she knew everything Zoe was thinking. Well, she’d just carry on and trust herself — Zoe didn’t have any regrets so far. Except regret that Dean hadn’t arrived yet! She smiled at her mother and leaned back to wait.

January

Zoe couldn’t wait to get back to school. The annual holiday visit to her grandparents had turned into a fiasco, what with forgetting the charger cable for her phone and then a flight cancellation that meant they’d only made it home Sunday afternoon. It had been enjoyable even so, but using Grandpa’s PC for a few e-mails made her feel totally cut off from her friends. Luckily it had been warm there and she’d jogged a lot, trying to ignore the cravings of her body and stay ahead of the holiday calories.

The new quarter started with another mandatory morning assembly. Principal Edwards put in an initial appearance, but left the bulk of the speaking to others. Zoe, Claudia, and Paige sat together in the bleachers, tuning out most of the assembly while they shared funny holiday stories and discussed the spring fashions appearing in the stores.

“Just one last announcement, on the dress code,” Jana warned the audience. The words “dress code” caught Zoe’s attention and she shushed her friends. Jana cleared her throat and spoke slowly into the microphone, apparently reciting carefully from memory:

“TRAINCO recognizes physical comfort plays a part in academic achievement. Therefore, while the student dress code will continue to be rigorously enforced in public venues, student attire on campus during normal school hours may consist of a subset of the normal uniform or designated optional alternatives.”

“What?” Zoe asked, not sure she’d heard correctly.

For a change, a substantial fraction of the audience joined Joanne and the cheer squad in applauding and shouting. “No more fucking bra!” crowed Claudia, who performed her usual gyrations and launched the offending garment into the crowd. Dozens of ties and several other garments, including leggings and at least one pair of underwear, sailed into the air as other students got into the act.

The weather might have been cold outside, but Zoe was looking forward to swim class again, and spending that hour in the heated water of the indoor pool. She stood in the girls’ locker room with Paige, feeling goose bumps on her arms as she started pulling on her suit.

Zoe did a double-take when she saw Paige’s chest. The nipple clamps had been replaced with piercings, still joined by a fine chain. It looked pretty permanent. “Are those for real?”

“Yeah,” confirmed Paige in her usual matter-of-fact tone. “I think it makes a statement.”

“Umm, yes,” Zoe temporized. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the elaborately bizarre reasoning that doubtless lay behind the comment. “Your parents let you do this?”

“Oh no,” laughed Paige, “are you kidding? The school nurse did it! Can you believe it?”

“Frankly, no,” which was an understatement. “Our school nurse? Here? At Hyde?”

Paige nodded. “Yup. She did such good work on my face, I decided to give this a try. I heard about it from the spazz.” That meant Joanne, Zoe knew. “The cool thing is, they healed so fast. Can you believe I only got these Friday?” Paige pulled on the chain to demonstrate, stretching the nipples away from her breasts.

It made Zoe queasy to look, but the piercings did look fully-healed. They certainly didn’t seem to cause Paige any pain. The school nurse, during the holiday break? Well, that was something to look into, she thought.

About 20 minutes — and maybe one too many laps of the pool — later, Zoe hugged the pool wall and wondered how it was possible to get out of condition so quickly. The Christmas break had only been two weeks long, but her lungs insisted it had been two years.

The blonde took a moment to catch her breath as somebody sprinted back to the equipment room to retrieve a forgotten bag of balls for water polo. Hopefully they wouldn’t rush. The boys milled about nearby, also waiting to find out which sides of the pool to use. Her eyes automatically sought out Dean, and Zoe gazed at him while trying not to be too obvious about it. He really filled out his suit well, better than she remembered. It was enough to make her mouth dry.

One of the boys in Zoe’s line of sight turned away from his friends, casually hauled out his penis, and began peeing into the pool. Zoe gasped in surprise. Chlorinated or not, that was gross! Paige contented herself with a dismissive, “whatever,” but several other members of the class giggled and pointed; a few of the closest pulled themselves out of the water.

That, of course, attracted the attention of more of the boys. They strutted closer to the girls, providing a better view, and a few more arcs of warm urine began streaming into the water.

Zoe looked around to see what the coaches were doing, and then turned back at the sound of Crystal’s startled shriek. Tony was peeing on her and her friends! Incredibly, the girls started rubbing his piss into their skin and wet swimsuits, and Crystal dropped to her knees.

Dean’s face on the far side of the group showed the same “O” of surprise Zoe felt. Perhaps a third of the boys had relieved themselves on the mostly willing girls by the time Tony finished draining his bladder into Crystal’s opened mouth.

“What the fuck?!…” was the only thing the normally literate Zoe could think to say.

Paige was surprisingly nonchalant about it. “Oh, I think it grows on you,” she observed.

The coaches did nothing. “Come on you idiots, let’s get back to work!” yelled Mr. Zegmet, finally herding the boys off to the far end of the pool. Zoe would have said Ms. Gold hadn’t noticed a thing, except she made Crystal sluice off the pools of urine remaining where the girls had been. Apparently a lot more than the dress code had changed during the holiday break. Zoe began to think she had returned to a different world.

Over lunch, she compared notes with Dean on her findings from the morning. He too found it unbelievable that the girls would subject themselves to that sort of treatment, although he admitted it looked like fun. That comment rubbed Zoe the wrong way.

The more unsettling incident happened on the way out. They’d just dumped their trays in the return and were walking towards the cafeteria exit when Dean stopped abruptly. He fished out his cock and began pissing into the potted palm near the doorway.

Zoe grabbed his arm, aghast. Dean looked at her and smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry; couldn’t wait. Did you want it?”

The blonde shook her head frantically and tried to pretend none of it was happening. The scariest part was that the more Zoe thought about it, the less certain she was that Dean had been joking.

She thought about raising the subject with Paige when they met to examine the dress code changes on the fabrication system, but her friend was in a strange mood, absently running her fingers along the nipple chain while they waited for their new two-piece regulation swimsuits to be fabricated.

On the bus ride home, she tried to explain her misgivings to Claudia. “It’s just not normal,” Zoe repeated for perhaps the fifth time, when she heard spattering on the floor of the bus and felt warm liquid ricocheting onto her leg.

“Don’t mind me,” Claudia explained, “I’m just taking advantage of my last opportunity to unload before I have to be a fucking ‘good girl’ again. Now, you were saying?”

Zoe found she didn’t have anything more to say.

When she tried on her new bikini after dinner, Zoe was unsurprised that it fit her like a dream, and made her look like one, too. It was surprisingly skimpy for school wear, and she realized she’d have to trim her bikini line. Working in the bathroom, she almost removed it all, but decided to leave a small patch — Zoe wanted to distinguish herself from Mariah, and was proud her pubes were the same light blonde as her head.

Looking at herself again in the mirror afterwards, Zoe imagined showing herself to Dean the next day, nearly as naked as her digitized image. She couldn’t resist retrieving her dildo and caressing it against her breasts and mound, then angling it against her crotch until it pushed the fabric aside and slid into her dripping snatch. She thrust it into herself repeatedly, staring at her reflection, until she orgasmed.

That night, she dreamed she held Paige’s nipple chain while Tony and Dean both peed on the brunette. Mariah appeared and pressed herself against Zoe’s thigh, then peed on her. Zoe awoke and realized she’d wet her bed for the first time since she was a little girl.

Embarrassed, she silently stripped the bed and carried the damp linens to the laundry room. She stood before the washer and hesitated. Zoe couldn’t resist burying her face in the sheets and then tasting them. God, she was sick! She dumped everything in the washer and was halfway back to her bedroom before she realized she was still wearing her soaked tap pants.

The following day was almost normal, as if to make up for the aberrations of the previous one. All of the riders on the bus, Claudia included, behaved themselves. Paige left her bra on, and Zoe could pretend she couldn’t see the chain and rings beneath it. Perhaps a quarter of the girls, herself and Paige included, were already wearing bikinis. If anybody peed in the pool, they did it underwater where Zoe didn’t see it. Dean was a perfect gentleman at lunch, and apologized again for upsetting her the previous day.

Well, she did see Kevin and Jana by the lockers between classes. Zoe discreetly observed them as he drained his water bottle in one nearly continuous action, before commenting, “Geez, this just runs through you!” He unzipped his pants and withdrew his cock; Jana, already squatting, took it in her mouth and began nursing.

If Zoe ignored how much the other girl was swallowing, it looked just like she was giving him a blowjob, and that wasn’t so unusual. Zoe pondered that thought as she drank from her bottle, unconsciously matching Jana’s rhythm.

Zoe was dragging by last hour. Planning picture placement just couldn’t engage her enthusiasm the same way the now-forbidden journalistic research had. Joanne’s “like”-infested layout meeting seemed to take forever and Zoe was squirming with discomfort.

Finally she muttered an apology and bolted for the bathroom. Zoe pulled up short in front of the restrooms, which bore a “Closed For Cleaning” sign.

“Cleaning?” she growled. “It’s probably the only place in the whole damn school that people don’t use anymore!” A hand on her shoulder startled her, and Zoe jumped with surprise as she involuntarily released a burst of urine. She whirled around to find Hannah Petersen facing her.

“I didn’t mean to surprise you, Zoe,” the teacher apologized. “I just thought perhaps I could help…” She glanced at the wet tile between Zoe’s shoes.

The hell with it, Zoe decided. Apparently the universe was trying to tell her something. Spreading her legs a little more, she let go and felt her warm piss soak her panties and begin to run onto the floor.

Hannah crouched in front of the growing puddle. Zoe closed her eyes as her skirt was pushed upwards and the teacher’s breath warmed the wetness between her legs. She could feel Hannah’s lips and tongue work the outside of her panties, sucking the moisture from them.

The licking stopped and Zoe opened her eyes.

Mariah was giving her a sultry smile at point-blank range. “Can I play, too?” she cooed. She raised her skirt, revealing her bald pussy, now pierced multiple times and marked with several welts. The redhead unloaded on the teacher, her rushing torrent instantly soaking Hannah’s blouse.

Hannah began working herself violently, leaving Zoe trapped between her and the wall. The blonde closed her eyes again as Mariah leaned in for a kiss.

“There’s so much I want to show you,” Mariah whispered as they came up for air. Hannah returned to Zoe’s legs, licking higher and higher. “Touch me the way you want to be touched.”

Zoe closed her eyes again as Mariah positioned her not-unwilling hand against a breast, before pulling open Zoe’s blouse and pushing up her bra so she could return the favor. Hannah was sucking at Zoe’s panties.

Zoe felt Mariah’s nipple stiffen against the palm of her hand. She squeezed gently and then shifted her hand to catch the erect nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Mariah obligingly mirrored the movement, and started kissing her again.

The teacher pushed Zoe’s underwear aside and began licking her clit with short strokes of the tongue. Zoe flinched under the unexpected stimulus and squeezed Mariah’s nipple tightly. Mariah squeezed back the same way, doubling the blonde’s pleasure. They moaned into each other’s parted mouths, tasting the other’s saliva.

Mariah now took the lead, rolling Zoe’s nipple roughly between her fingers. Zoe repeated it. She screamed in pain when the other girl squeezed her nipple, hard, against the edge of a thumbnail, and pinched back, hoping Mariah would release her.

The pressure relented, but only momentarily. As if they’d practiced it, Hannah and Mariah synchronized their assault on Zoe’s senses. Hannah sucked hard on her clit, generating a wave of sensation so intense it was almost painful, and at the same time Mariah pinched her nipple cruelly, sending waves of pain radiating through her breast. Then the pressure relented as Mariah massaged her nipple and Hannah blew gently on Zoe’s soaking pussy. A moment later, the cycle repeated.

All of the sensations met and tangled together in the pit of Zoe’s stomach, forming a confusing blend of pleasure and pain. She didn’t realize she herself was forcing the pace faster, thrusting her groin at Hannah’s face and abusing Mariah’s nipple just a fraction of a second before she felt the pain in hers. A fingertip probed at the entrance to her ass.

Zoe shuddered into a mind-bending climax and would have fallen down if she hadn’t been propped against the wall. She opened her eyes again after catching her breath, and saw Mariah looking back at her with the same post-orgasmic glow. She looked down at her breast, expecting to find it savaged, but her nipple looked fine — if more than a bit engorged and very sensitive.

Had she really done this? Zoe watched Hannah stand and brush a strand of wet hair out of her face. “You’re a wonderful student, Zoe,” the teacher complimented her. “I think class is about over for the day.” She winked and walked back in the direction of the classroom.

“My God, you’re so hot,” Mariah added, while fastening her blouse. “I’d love to do you again — soon?”

Zoe shook her head, making a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Not right away.” She struggled with her bra. “I enjoyed it, a lot, I guess. You know it and I’d be a fool to deny it. But — this isn’t what I thought I’d be learning in school. It doesn’t seem right; all this” — her gesture took in the entire school — “isn’t normal. Don’t you see that? Don’t you care?”

Mariah shook her head regretfully. “Maybe it isn’t normal. But I enjoy it, and that’s good enough for me. It could be good enough for you, too. You can’t beat them, Zoe.”

Chin high, Zoe marched away. She didn’t care two buttons were missing from her blouse. The challenge implicit in Mariah’s last sentence energized her. She’d stood by with the silent majority and let the wrong thing happen to Amber. If this “them” thought she was going to do the wrong thing again, they were going to learn differently.

Principal Edwards unleashed his frustration on Mariah. He waved a wrinkled printout in his hand and slammed it on the desktop. The headline read: “Hyde Morals Breakdown / TRAINCO Complacency or Complicity?” He snarled, “I just got this from Hannah! Unsolicited! If she ever thought to submit this outside, there’d be hell to pay!”

Edwards picked up the paper again and fed it into the shredder. “Why is Zoe still writing these things, Mariah? You are supposed to be distracting her!” He hefted a thin two-foot metal ruler from his desk and whipped it up between Mariah’s legs, knowing the end would lick her bare cunt. She jerked at the blow, but as usual, it was unclear if her reaction was one of pain, pleasure, or both.

“Excuse me for reminding you that I’m the one who warned you she might be a problem,” Mariah muttered, and then flinched as he raised the ruler again. “Look, she has to be close to breaking.” She related, with more relish than was strictly necessary, the hallway encounter.

“I felt her cum!” the redhead concluded. “She likes it; she just hasn’t experienced enough to really get into it. I think we should bring her to the back room at Spots; no interruptions, plenty of toys, and I can fuck her silly.”

“Well, perhaps,” Paul mused. “We’d always planned to use that for a cover story, if we needed it. Maybe we do. If she doesn’t roll for us, we can let Zoe ‘find’ things and do half our work for us.”

He directed a penetrating look at Mariah. “Can you get her there?”

“Sure,” she replied confidently. “Oh, it might take a little bit, but she’s already hooked. I just need to reel her in!”

“You’re dismissed, then.” The principal watched her leave, wishing he completely shared the teen’s optimism. Perhaps it was time for a tune-up, he thought. He punched in an extension on the phone. “Hello, Shefali, it’s Paul Edwards. Can you open up the nursing center for me early tomorrow morning?”

Zoe wandered through the stacks in the library. It had become her favorite place to think — not very public, quiet, and soothing. She was distracted and trying to organize her thoughts. Annoyingly, they kept returning to Mariah’s kiss and the feel of Hannah’s tongue on her cunt and the finger at her asshole. She twitched, wondering what Dean’s cock would feel like there. Never mind that she still didn’t know what Dean’s cock felt like in her pussy.

What would her nipples feel like if they were pierced like Paige’s? Would it be painful, more painful than Mariah’s fingernail? She thought, not for the first time, there had to be a story in how it was the nurse was involved with doing piercings. Had the nurse pierced Mariah’s labia? Surely that would have really hurt.

A grunt and thud from a few rows over interrupted her chain of thought. It sounded like a couple of students were fucking on the floor. I wouldn’t want to be on the bottom, Zoe thought, absent-mindedly looking at the hard floor revealed by the recent removal of carpeting.

Zoe started thinking again of Mariah, wishing she could be that gloriously sexy and uninhibited. Timidly, she looked down the row in both directions before shimmying her wet panties down her legs. As of late, it seemed they were always wet.

She squatted and started peeing, fingering herself as the warm urine ran across her hand and spattered, seemingly thunderously, on the tile. A fantasy of peeing this way in front of others, like Mariah, ran through her head. She imagined peeing in front of Dean… or Dean peeing on her, letting her taste his warm piss…

Sudden voices from nearby startled Zoe and she bolted, totally flustered. Her underwear remained behind, slowly absorbing liquid from the spreading puddle in the aisle.

It was well before classes started, but the lights were on inside Hyde’s nursing center. Paul Edwards sat on the examination table, naked from the waist down, and carried on a conversation on his cell phone.

“Wait one, Shefali,” he told the woman with him. “I want to be absolutely clear,” Paul spoke into the phone, “we need the web site renewed and we’ll want editing services, but the money has to come out of the 137 account — no, the 137 account, not the new one — clear?” He gestured for her to continue and returned his attention to the call. “Okay, tell me about it.”

Shefali wore the usual faculty ID, but wore a white lab coat over her blouse and short skirt. Seated on a stool, she arranged a set of pointed studs on the nearby tray. She used a disposable wipe to spread some sort of blue gel around the upper half of Paul’s penis, then discarded it and pulled on a pair of gloves.

The nurse picked up the first stud, socketed it into a small tool, and studied the cock carefully. She pressed the head of the tool against the skin just below the existing studs, and triggered it. Paul grunted and his penis surged; the new stud was in place.

Her tongue delicately extended, Shefali licked away the clear liquid that had appeared at the tip of the penis, and proceeded to load another stud in the tool.

She continued working methodically, creating a second row of studs, while Paul mostly listened to the phone. “Okay, good,” he approved finally, “have that ready by the end of the week and we’re all set.” He ended the call just before the nurse implanted the last stud.

She wiped away the remaining gel with another cloth, and discarded both it and the gloves. Paul was quivering and rock hard. “How does it feel, Mr. Edwards?” she asked in her beautiful British accent.

“It hurts so good,” he admitted, running a finger along the points of the new studs. “Let’s give it a test drive, shall we?”

The pair reversed positions and Shefali lay back on the exam table, revealing both a lack of underwear and her readiness. Paul stepped forward, but inserted himself into her ass instead of her flowering cunt.

She screamed as he pressed forward and felt each row of studs catch before slipping deeper into her. He established a steady rhythm, sawing the metal teeth in and out of her anus. Shefali fingered herself violently, screaming out repeatedly at the mixed pain and pleasure.

Saturday dawned grey and cold, but Zoe was already awake, feeling tense and restless. She’d wet her bed again during the night, but was becoming accustomed to damp sheets. The blonde fingered herself, peeing again, and enjoyed the feeling of warmth pooling under her body. After a mild climax, she rose and collected her damp bedding, using a dry part of the top sheet to wipe down the plastic sheet liner. Everything went into the washer and Zoe walked back upstairs, naked, to remake her bed and dress before her parents awoke.

A light breakfast, several mugs of decaf tea, and every word of the paper later, Zoe still felt like she would go stir-crazy. She looked hopefully out the side window, but Claudia’s car was gone, and Paige’s parents were big on “family time” during the weekend. Zoe thought about Dean, but the way those thoughts made her wet suggested it would be a bad idea to be alone with him. Perhaps she could try to figure out Mariah?

Finally she asked her father if she could borrow his car for a shopping trip. The conversation was genial, but made the state driving laws seem lenient; her parents made it clear driving was a privilege. As expected, Zoe got the keys — after reviewing her standing promises to refuel the car, not drive with friends, be back before dark, keep her phone off in the car, and check in at each stop.

It made no sense, but Zoe’s mood drove her to set aside the casual clothing she might normally have worn. Instead she unearthed some of the fruits of her friends’ labors. Changing first into a low-rise thong, Zoe pulled on a pair of faded jeans embellished with “CZP” on the hip pockets. They rode low on her hips, didn’t clear the floor unless she wore heels, and fit like a glove. Distressed fabric remained out of reach, but Claudia had located a supply of denim and Paige had cracked the problem of doing embroidery (at the cost of a substantial increase in production time).

Disdaining a bra, Zoe donned a thin camisole that clung to her body as if she were wet and ended above her navel; it was blatantly unsuitable for winter but would serve perfectly as a shell under her hoodie. The hoodie was a masterwork. Of course it was soft and sleekly form-fitting, but the entire back was embroidered with a huge vivid multicolor hurricane logo and “Lawrence Hyde Charter High School;” “Zoe” was embroidered in elegant cursive letters on the breast. Paige was lobbying to have it added to the dress code, and surprisingly the request had not been rejected out of hand.

After a quick check of her purse, Zoe pulled on her winter coat and zipped it up — but not before slipping a pair of heels inside it. Wearing flip-flops and with the coat concealing a multitude of sinful curves, the blonde reached the safety of the car without parental interference. She thought for a minute about what to do before hitting the garage door remote and starting the engine.

Half an hour later she was pulling into the parking lot at the Leopard’s Lair. Predictably, on a Saturday morning, it was empty. Zoe put on her heels and, leaving the heavy coat in the car, hurried to the entrance and into the warmth of the store.

“Hi, Andy, remember me?” she asked when he looked up from the football commentary he was watching on the small TV. Without waiting for him to answer, she unzipped her hoodie and raised the cami, baring her breasts to him. Her nipples were hard, but it was cold outside.

He replied, “how could I forget?” clearly enjoying the view. “Go on ahead. Let me know if I can help you with anything, Paige, is it?”

“Zoe,” she replied shortly, smoothing down her top but not bothering to rezip the hoodie. She strode down the aisle to the DVD section, uncaring that Andy’s attention was fixated on her slender figure.

“Can I help you, Zoe?” he asked several minutes later, after watching her slowly scan all of the DVD racks.

She started, surprised to find she hadn’t noticed his approach, and looked up in frustration. “I’m looking for a DVD; I think it’s called ‘The Cock Also Rises.’ Can you help me find it?”

Andy looked at her, and Zoe noticed he was watching her nipples poking against the camisole. “Are you looking for that specific title, or just something with lots of cock in it?”

“That title,” Zoe answered, blushing faintly as she started to think about how he might be interpreting this. “I’m sure it was here in the new releases section.”

“Well, let me think a minute.” He scanned the shelves briefly, unconsciously adjusting himself in his pants. “Let me go look in the inventory system.” Andy strolled back to the front counter; after a last scan of the shelves, Zoe followed him.

She was expecting a computer, but Andy pulled out a three-ring binder from beneath the counter and started flipping through marked up packing lists. The blonde schooled herself to patience, waiting silently as he worked. Eventually he stopped, drawing his finger across a line item, and looked up. “Yup, we had a couple of those, but we’re sold out now. Oh yeah, SoWet Productions, those are some kinky bastards!”

“What do you mean?” Zoe asked. She tried reading upside down, but the documents looked like they’d been printed on a dot matrix printer and were smudged and covered with pencil marks.

“SoWet Productions — that’s the company that made that video,” explained Andy. “They’re a new outfit, I guess, but they’re getting real popular. They seem to have a lot of hot young talent and they’re pretty graphic. Not real big on plot, if you catch my drift.”

“Do you have any of their other videos?” wondered Zoe.

“Probably,” Andy allowed. “C’mon, it’ll be faster to just check the shelves than look through this crap. After a while, you can just recognize the company by the look of the cover.” The two walked back down to the video section. He was as good as his word, taking only a minute to scan the cases before pulling one out and handing it to Zoe.

“Two-Fisted Pleasure Addict,” she read. The cover picture on this case was taken from the point of view of a woman looking down, past her bare breasts and erect nipples. Below them, each hand held a large, glistening dildo. Could those be Mariah’s tits? Was the model in the picture even in the video? That was something she hadn’t considered previously.

“Is there any way I can watch this?” asked Zoe.

Andy snorted. “Sure — buy it.” When he saw her expression, he laughed. “Come on, Zoe, get real! This isn’t a library; do Best Buy or the Video Corral let you look at movies before you buy them?”

Reluctantly, she found herself carrying it slowly back to the register. “Can I return it if I don’t like it?” Andy pointed silently at the “ALL SALES ARE FINAL” sign. Zoe couldn’t believe she was seriously considering buying pornography that her parents probably would kill her for if they found it — and for a price she wouldn’t pay even for real movies. She looked at the case again, searching for any additional hints about the content, but found nothing. “Can I at least watch it here after I buy it?” she sighed, looking hopefully at the small television behind the counter.

“That, we can arrange,” Andy promised as he rang up the sale and accepted her cash. While Zoe tucked the receipt into her purse, he slit open the packaging with a cutter and extracted the disc. She could hear a whirr as he inserted it into a player beneath the counter, and she looked at the TV, expecting to see the picture change, but nothing happened. “I queued it up in booth one,” explained Andy, pointing toward the back of the store. “Seeing as how it’s your DVD, we’ll just overlook the usual viewing charge.”

Zoe walked back in the direction he’d indicated. She’d thought the curtained doorways were additional changing rooms, but apparently that wasn’t the case. Pushing past the curtain under the “1,” the blonde found herself in a small, dimly lit cubby that smelled faintly of stale sweat and semen. It was big enough for a small armchair, a wastebasket, and a stand beside chair with several rolls of toilet paper. The television, inset in the wall, already displayed a title screen that jerked into motion as she took in her surroundings.

“Boys are such wimps,” Mariah pouted as she walked into frame, clad in a skimpy bikini. “I was just getting started, and they’re all pooped out!” She untied the bottoms, revealing a cunt that was oozing spunk and a small trimmed pubic patch matted with dried semen. That was enough for Zoe to infer it must have been filmed the previous year.

Having confirmed her suspicions, Zoe pushed the curtain aside and exited the cubby. She pulled up short at the sight of an older man standing at the counter with his back to her.

“Sure, Mr. Wilkes, I can get those sales numbers for you right now!” Andy’s voice was loud enough for Zoe to understand him easily from the other end of the showroom. “I’ve just got one customer in the booths, and he’ll be busy for awhile.” The man made some inaudible reply. “No, some old guy by himself,” Andy answered. “Maybe his girlfriend just left her coat in the car; I dunno. I know you don’t want anything illegal going on here.” He plopped some papers on the counter, distracting the man, and jerked his head meaningfully towards the cubby.

Zoe darted back inside, holding the curtain to minimize its movement. She didn’t need Andy’s hints to know she couldn’t afford to be found; hopefully his explanation would hold up and she could hide until the man left. Unfortunately, that left her with no distractions except the TV screen.

Mariah was naked now, caressing herself and plucking both nipples until they stiffened. Unwillingly, Zoe felt her own breasts tighten in response. She located a volume control and dialed it down, making it easier to hear if anybody should approach, and reducing Mariah’s moans to a low murmur. In near silence, the redhead produced a dildo and began rubbing it against her pubis, coating it until it glistened, and then inserted it into herself. She started slowly, but began working the instrument in and out more vigorously, her lips parted. A few minutes later, Mariah’s body writhed in obvious ecstasy.

Zoe was on edge, pacing a few steps back and forth across the cramped room, until she realized her heels clicked distinctively with every step and she was pressing her thighs together in a vain attempt to stimulate herself. The downside of tailored jeans, she decided, was that there were no folds of excess material to form ridges to rub against, and no gaps that would admit a hand. The blonde peeked through the curtain, but the unwanted visitor was still at the counter.

She returned her attention to the video, which had changed scenes. It was outdoors now, at the Springfield farmers market, and the image jumped a bit as if it had been captured with a small handheld camera. Mariah, wearing a short dress and astronomically high heels, was inspecting produce. Looking about, she stealthily selected a cucumber and quickly slid it up under the front of her dress; when her hand emerged a second later, it was empty. A second, smaller, cucumber disappeared the same way behind her. Mariah smiled sweetly and innocently at a woman who looked like she couldn’t believe what she thought she’d seen, and strolled off with an extra roll to her hips.

Zoe was so not going to diddle herself in this dive. That didn’t mean she couldn’t rub her stiff nipples as she watched the camera follow Mariah through the market to the food vendor area and purchase a drink. The redhead found a spot on a picnic bench and the camera — it had to be hidden — jostled before coming to rest on the bench on the other side of the table, facing Mariah.

She spread her legs and Zoe could see the end of the cucumber pressing against Mariah’s underwear. Fingers intruded into the picture, pulling the panties aside, and Mariah began working the length of the vegetable in and out of herself. There was a pause, and she scooted forward on the bench, revealing the end of the second cucumber. Using both hands now, the girl pistoned both holes until her body started shaking. After a final thrust, the hands disappeared and both cucumbers started slowly emerging, covered in juice, until they dropped away like large, rigid turds. Zoe was dripping in her jeans.

The blonde took another peek to confirm her exit remained blocked, and returned her attention to the television. Mariah was lying in bed, masturbating herself with a large artificial cock while she sucked on its twin. The image was just a little too close to home for Zoe, who finally surrendered to her peaking desire. With a glance at the closed curtains, the blonde unfastened her jeans and pulled them down to her knees. Perching on one arm of the chair, which she judged to be cleaner than the seat, Zoe stroked her drenched thong before tugging it aside and starting to tend to her needy sex.

Zoe jumped as Mariah spit out the one dildo and yanked a sheet over herself. A woman entered the picture, visible only from behind. She shook a pair of crusted panties in Mariah’s face; obviously it was intended to be Mariah’s mother, but it wasn’t really Councilwoman Haskell… was it? There was a pause, allowing a few inaudible words of conversation, before the woman dropped the panties and yanked back the sheet, revealing Mariah’s arousal and the two dildos.

She slapped Mariah across the face — it looked pretty realistic — and pulled the dildo out of the teen’s sopping cunt. They rearranged themselves so the woman, back still to the camera, sat on the end of the bed and Mariah lay across her lap, her rear exposed to Zoe’s riveted gaze. The woman started spanking Mariah, quickly reddening the teen’s buns. She stopped to retrieve one of the dildos and rammed it abruptly into the redhead’s pussy, then resumed spanking at the same time she worked the dildo in and out of her daughter. Zoe’s fingers thrust into her creaming pussy in time with the dildo.

There was another pause to insert the second dildo into Mariah’s ass, which accepted it easily, and the spanking resumed. Now the rhythm was spank, spank, spank, spank, followed by a push to reseat the dildo. Zoe was strumming her clit, gasping a breath at each pause, and riding the crest of her arousal progressively higher each time. Just before she thought she would explode, the woman rolled Mariah off her lap and pulled her daughter’s head under her skirt.

The point of view changed so it was again behind Mariah, and now facing her mother, but aimed low enough that the redhead nearly filled the screen and the woman’s identity remained unknown. Zoe could see Mariah licking frantically at her mother’s pussy while supporting herself with one hand and working the dildo in her cunt with the other; the woman was leaning forward so she could pump the second dildo in and out of Mariah’s ass. When the redhead finally trembled and collapsed in orgasm, Zoe climaxed too.

A ribbon of sperm jetted onto the floor near her foot, and Zoe belated realized Andy was standing in the entryway watching her and jerking off. “Jesus, you are one white-hot chick,” he gasped, as she shrieked and tried to cover herself. The fit of her jeans worked against her, and she could hear him grunting again as she faced away from the door and wiggled her pants up her legs.

“Couldn’t you have knocked or something?” Zoe asked him, doing up her fly and smoothing down her camisole.

“Hey, I asked and you didn’t answer. I thought maybe you’d snuck out, so I just poked my head in,” Andy explained. He spooled off some toilet paper and used it to wipe himself while Zoe watched. “You were just locked on that screen. Hey, you want some of this?” He waved his cock at her.

“No thanks,” Zoe shook her head. Andy shrugged and tossed the paper wad in the trash, and tucked himself back into his pants. He held the curtain aside, inviting her to exit, and Zoe stepped carefully around the spunk on the floor and back into the showroom.

Andy looked sideways at her as they walked back down the length of the store. “I guess you found what you were looking for on that video, eh?”

“Yeah,” Zoe admitted, zipping up her hoodie, “I guess I did.” The question was, what did she do now? She waited absent-mindedly, worrying at the question, while Andy ejected the disc, replaced it in the case, and put it in a bag. Her eyebrows rose when he handed her the bag and the cash she’d paid him earlier. “Keep it,” she decided, pushing the money back across the counter. “I got what I wanted.”

Outside, she pulled on her coat and got the car started, then drove across the street to the gas station; if she tanked up now, Zoe figured she’d be good for the rest of the day. She used the time waiting at the pump to decide how she should proceed. After finishing, she pulled over to the edge of the lot and let the car idle while she turned on her cell phone.

The day was getting off to a rocky start, Zoe reflected; she was about to break another resolution. She scrolled down the contact list to the number she’d found written in her boyshorts in November, and hit the “Talk” button.

“Hello?” Mariah’s voice sounded after the third ring. “Is this Zoe?”

“Hi, Mariah,” Zoe said, and took a deep mental breath. “Can I meet you somewhere today? I need to talk to you.”

“I’m at Saks right now,” Mariah responded. That meant Deer Meadow Hills, of course. “I could meet you later, at home, if you want.”

A private meeting with Mariah did not seem like a good idea at all; the public surroundings of the mall seemed worth the drive. Besides, she could use a good indoors walk to work off some of the tension she was feeling. “I’ll meet you there.” Zoe looked at the clock on the dash. “How about noon, at the food court?”

“That’s dull,” Mariah replied. “How about JJ’s instead?” That was the most casual of the restaurants at the mall, to the extent that anything at Deer Meadow Hills would condescend to be called “casual.”

It would be expensive, for lunch, but far better than dinner. “Yeah, okay,” Zoe accepted. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” purred Mariah before disconnecting.

Zoe hit the speed dial button for home, and was a bit surprised to hear the answering machine pick up. In some ways, it made life easier. “Hi, it’s me! I’m just leaving TJ Maxx and going to Deer Meadow — I’ll call when I get there. Love you, bye!”

The drive passed uneventfully and Zoe was pulling into a spot in the covered parking deck about 15 minutes before noon. She decided, again, to leave her coat in the car and tossed it in the passenger’s seat, on top of the bag with the DVD. The car was close enough to the entrance that a brisk walk got her indoors before the cold seeped through her hoodie or jeans.

Unzipping the hoodie a few inches so it was less restrictive, Zoe continued through the mall toward the restaurant at a relatively rapid pace. She had just turned the last corner before JJ’s when a voice behind her called, “Zoe! Zoe Ryan?”

Zoe stopped and turned, half expecting to see Mariah, although the voice wasn’t right. It took a moment for her brain to change gears and recognize people she hadn’t seen for nearly a year. Sheila Johnson and Kimberly Franklin fronted a group of familiar faces Zoe generally would have been happier to avoid seeing again; Zoe was pretty sure Sheila had been responsible for broadcasting Amber’s cellphone picture, and totally positive that she and Kimmie were total bitches. No more willing to turn her back on them than she would a pack of jackals, Zoe walked slowly towards the group of girls and prepared to brazen out the encounter.

“Sheila, Kimmie,” Zoe greeted them, making no particular attempt to disguise her lack of enthusiasm, “how’s tricks? I see you’re hanging with a new crowd, Shea.” The reciprocal pleasantries lasted a minute longer before the tone of the conversation turned chilly.

“We’ve missed you, Zoe,” Sheila complained with mock sincerity. “It’s too bad you had to run away after Amber killed herself. She really wasn’t worth the effort.”

Zoe gritted her teeth and maintained a pleasant expression. “I’d miss Amber just as much no matter where I am; and I didn’t run away; we moved.”

“Yes,” Kim interjected derisively, “and now you go to fancy-dancy Hyde High, with all the special charter students.” Her tone was cutting and the audience laughed unkindly. “Do you enjoy dressing up in your little schoolgirl uniforms with the other fashion victims?”

That intended blow did not land squarely, but Kimberly never had been one for thinking before opening her mouth. “I get by well enough,” Zoe answered dryly, pirouetting to demonstrate her point. Maybe she hadn’t been a fashion hound before, but the outfit she wore now looked far more expensive than it was, and compared favorably with the typical Hollister and Abercrombie garb adorning the others. More cuttingly, Zoe had toned up — and looked it — whereas more than one of the others sported a bit of a muffin top.

“I bet,” snarled Sheila, who recognized faster than Kimmie they’d lost that point. “Everybody’s heard about the Hyde ‘Whore-icanes’ and their private little brothel! You’re probably a bigger slut than Amber ever was; I bet you sent out her picture because you were jealous she had a boyfriend. Admit it, Zoe — you can’t wear normal jeans because we’d see the calluses on your knees from blowing every boy with a dick between his legs!”

The key accusation, baldly blaming Zoe for what Sheila almost certainly had done herself, took the blonde’s breath away. For the rest, she knew it was spite and envy talking, but there were so many unintentional half-truths and near misses in the stinging attack that Zoe hesitated, unsure how to respond.

Kimmie, sensing something had scored, tried to one-up her friend. “You fucking slut, you probably teach sex-ed on your back! I’m glad you left Parker, or every boy there would have a social disease!”

Seething, Zoe considered abandoning words entirely and planting her fist in her tormentors’ faces. She knew it would be smarter to turn and just walk away, but ceding the argument to that lying, murdering bitch was beyond her. The blonde jumped as an arm threaded itself around her.

“Hi, Zoe. Who are your friends?” Mariah asked, wearing her most becomingly innocent expression.

Glad for the support, even from the unlikeliest of reinforcements, Zoe forced herself to use a pleasant voice. “This is Sheila, and Kimmie, and Beth, and Shea, and…”

“Allison,” filled in the unfamiliar face in back.

“They all go to Parker, my old school,” Zoe summarized. “This is Mariah; she goes to Hyde, too.”

“I’m so pleased to meet all of you,” Mariah smiled sweetly. “I’ve been getting to know Zoe, and now I know why she never talks about her old school.”

Zoe watched their faces change as the discrepancy between the message and the delivery sunk in. It was refreshing to not be the one on the receiving end, for a change.

The redhead continued, “Kimmie, it doesn’t say much for your self-esteem to assume that all the boys at Parker — including your boyfriend, if you have one — would want to fuck Zoe instead of you. Although if I were a boy, I’d pick her over any of you, too!”

“You bitch!” Kim exclaimed in disbelief, and Sheila’s eyes narrowed.

“You two are fucking dykes!” the ringleader hissed, looking at Mariah’s arm draped loosely around Zoe’s waist. “Zoe Ryan is a fucking carpet muncher!” Maliciously, she added, “is that what happened with Amber? Did you hit on her and get rejected?”

“Liar!” Zoe exploded, struggling against Mariah’s suddenly tight grip.

“You get a kick out of pissing all over people, don’t you?” Mariah asked Sheila, moving to interpose herself in front of the sobbing Zoe.

“I call them like I see them,” replied Sheila with relish. “What I see is a pair of lesbo sluts.” It was hard for her to take Mariah seriously; the beautiful redhead didn’t look her age, was barely Sheila’s height even in her high-heeled boots, and didn’t look very menacing in her flouncy skirt, sweater, scarf, and shopping bags. Sheila took a few steps forward, getting in Mariah’s face, and was surprised the other girl wasn’t intimidated into backing up.

“What I see,” Mariah said, further closing the distance between them until they nearly touched, “is a bully who probably can’t take what she dishes out.” She embraced Sheila and kissed her.

Sheila turned her head aside, breaking the kiss, and began struggling in earnest when she felt the wetness on her legs. “You twisted bitch!” she screamed, “you peed on me! What kind of sick perverted dyke are you?” She finally succeeded in pushing Mariah away and looked down at herself. Her crotch was stained dark blue with moisture, and similar patches extended down her legs, growing as she watched.

“Is there a problem here?” the mall cop asked. It looked like a fight was about to break out, and that was exactly the sort of thing the mall didn’t want happening — especially during busy periods like Saturdays.

“She was looking for the restrooms and didn’t make it in time,” Mariah answered smoothly, just as Sheila repeated, “she fucking pissed on me!” and pointed at her.

The cop looked at them again. On the one side, the giggling blonde who looked like she’d been crying and the redhead in front of her looked exactly like the sort of upscale customer the mall wanted to attract; Mariah twisted her wrist slightly, ensuring he saw not only her Victoria’s Secret bag, but the Anne Fontaine bag next to it. The girls on the other side looked like run of the mill high school kids, but with a vibe he didn’t like. Their leader sure looked like she’d pissed herself, and the other two looked immaculate.

“Will this take long, officer?” Mariah asked politely. “We have reservations at the Back Room.” If JJ’s was the casual restaurant at Deer Meadow Hills, JJ’s Back Room — the restaurant-within-a-restaurant — was an entirely different kind of “casual,” with an entirely different kind of clientele.

Still, everybody except the redhead looked surprised at this development. If she was lying, it would be easy enough to catch her. “Don’t worry, miss. What name is the reservation under? We can let them know you might be delayed.”

“Haskell,” she smiled sweetly.

The name tipped the scales, as she’d guessed it would. Beautiful young women, wearing expensive clothes, making expensive purchases, dining at expensive restaurants, and with expensive last names — all of it flowing to the mall’s bottom line. It wasn’t favoritism so much as it was just a weighing of factors to reach a reasonable judgment. “On second thought, Miss Haskell, you can go along to your lunch now. Enjoy the rest of your visit.”

“You lying cunt!” Sheila shouted. “This isn’t over!”

“Perhaps you girls would like to continue shopping elsewhere today,” the mall cop suggested repressively. While he and his partner herded Sheila and her friends toward the mall entrance, Mariah gently tugged Zoe in the direction of the restaurant.

“I thought we were going to JJ’s,” Zoe hiccupped, and wiped salty teardrops from her cheeks. Feeling self-conscious, she was sure she looked like a wreck next to Mariah’s composed beauty.

“We are going to JJ’s,” Mariah assured her as they swept in. A hostess not much older than they were escorted them upstairs, through the dividing partition, and to one of the curtained booths at the rear of the restaurant. “I just thought you’d prefer someplace a little quieter to talk — and after that little confrontation, I’ve had enough public debate for one day. She leaned in to deposit her purchases on one bench and Zoe scooted in on the other side of the table; Mariah sat down beside the blonde, instead of next to her bags. “Isn’t this cozy?”

The waitress arrived with a bottle of sparkling water before Zoe could answer. Janet introduced herself and solicited drink orders; Zoe asked for strawberry lemonade and Mariah ordered a virgin banana daiquiri. “I love the taste of virgin bananas,” she confided when they were alone again.

“Aren’t you ever serious?” Zoe wondered, her spirits lifting a bit as she tried to put the confrontation downstairs behind her. She concentrated on the menu, looking for something uncomplicated and not too expensive.

Mariah had already set her menu aside. “I’m serious about the things I want,” she purred. “That’s why I’m here with you. Now, why did you pick today to decide to meet me?”

“Let’s get our food first,” Zoe demurred. She was able to delay any further serious questions until drinks, potstickers, and a pair of chopped salads had been delivered and partially consumed. With the edge taken off her hunger, the blonde set down her fork and looked at Mariah.

“I saw a porno film with you in it,” she began.

Of course, Mariah perked up immediately rather than displaying any embarrassment or hesitation. “Oh, cool! You are such the surprise, Zoe — I wouldn’t have figured you for that.” She took in Zoe’s expression. “You didn’t think I was going to deny it, did you?” the redhead laughed. “Where did you find it? Spill! I want to know all the details!”

Zoe shook her head and replied, “it’s a complicated story I don’t intend to share. What I want to know is, did the school or TRAINCO have anything to do with this?”

Mariah turned coy. “Which one was it?”

“So they are involved with pornography?” countered Zoe.

“It’s a complicated story,” Mariah parroted. “I’d need to know which video you saw to give you an honest answer. C’mon, Zoe, which one was it?” She grinned. “Was I hot? Did you like it?”

Zoe sighed, “I think it was called ‘Two-Fisted Pleasure Addict’.”

Mariah looked disgusted. “I never know the titles, although it sounds like maybe that’s a good thing. ‘Two-Fisted Pleasure Addict’? That could be anything! Describe it — what did I do?”

The present location didn’t seem to be the sort of place Zoe would have chosen for this, but it was quiet and private. She glanced at the curtain closing off their booth, pretty much the same in substance (if not style) as the curtains at the Leopard’s Lair, and they hadn’t done much good. Still…

“It started with you in a bikini,” Zoe began, “and I think you’d already had sex because you were dripping semen. You used a dildo to get yourself off. Then you were at the market, and you stole two cucumbers and stuck them in yourself, and sat on a bench and masturbated with them.”

“Zoe,” laughed Mariah, “you make it sound like Masterpiece Theatre or something! That’s so clinical; wasn’t there mood music or suggestive dialog or something?”

“I had it pretty much muted,” Zoe admitted.

“Didn’t want your parents to hear it?” guessed Mariah.

“Not really, I,” the blonde started, before remembering she wanted to ask the questions. “Anyway, do you remember it yet?”

“Maybe,” Mariah hedged. “I was at the market a couple of times last summer, before school started. What else? Was anybody else with me?”

Zoe shook her head. “Not there. But in the next scene, your mother caught you masturbating in bed and spanked you! Mariah, was that really your mother with you?”

“My stage mother,” the redhead not-answered. “You couldn’t hear any dialog?”

“No, I told you the sound was off!” responded Zoe, getting frustrated. “Doesn’t any of this sound familiar?”

Mariah heaved a sigh. “Zoe, maybe it seems like a big deal from your viewpoint, but I masturbate all the time, and I’ve fucked a lot of boys, and done more than one of these videos. Look; describe the scene carefully and I’ll see if it matches the one I think you might have seen.”

“If you’re thinking of something, why don’t you describe it to me instead,” the blonde suggested. “It’ll be easier to compare that way, I think.”

“You just want to experience it again, don’t you?” Mariah teased, and Zoe blushed but maintained a level gaze. “Okay, we’ll try it your way,” the redhead sighed, and leaned back against the bench.

“Ooooh,” Mariah’s throaty moan startled Zoe. The redhead broke character and sat up. “You said it started with me masturbating in bed, right?”

“Oh, right,” giggled Zoe, “you just surprised me. Yeah, you had one dildo in your pussy and you were sucking on another one. They were pretty large, and looked just like real cocks.”

“Yeah, they were great,” sighed Mariah. “Anyway, I’m masturbating and sucking on them, right?” She leaned back and released a long sigh, then shaped her lips into an “O” and pantomimed inserting something between them. After a moment, she dropped the hand and sat up abruptly. “This is where my mother comes in and I pull the sheet over myself, right?” Zoe nodded. “Then what? I can’t act out both parts.”

The blonde thought for a moment, then picked up her napkin and waved it at the redhead. “Look at these filthy panties!” she parodied. “I can’t believe I raised my daughter to be such a slut!”

“Something like that,” laughed Mariah. She assumed an air of bewilderment and asked, “but, Mommy dearest, what do you mean? I am pure; I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I’m so sure,” Zoe giggled, dropping her napkin and flipping the edge of the tablecloth up off their laps and over the remains of their forgotten salads. She froze at the sight of Mariah’s pushed-up skirt as the redhead probed her pussy with a pair of fingers. “Mariah!” she gasped. “You can’t do that here!”

“This is when she slapped me, right?” Mariah asked, trailing a glistening fingertip up towards her navel and then down again.

“Yeah,” gulped the blonde, “and then pulled you over her lap. Don’t you dare move!” She warned Mariah, “I am not spanking you!” Nevertheless, she couldn’t take her eyes off the other girl’s delectable mound, and twitched as she felt her own dampen.

The redhead started slapping the top of her thigh lightly with her left hand, slowly at first and then increasingly rapidly. She glanced at Zoe, who nodded, recognizing the rhythm. Both girls were quiet, lips parted, staring at the flicking fingers.

Zoe tensed slightly as they approached the point where Mariah’s mother had grabbed the first of the dildos. As usual with the redhead, she realized that somewhere she’d completely ceded control of the encounter. Mariah reached over and lifted Zoe’s hand, fighting token resistance before placing it over her bare pussy. Zoe felt the warmth of the redhead’s bare skin and labial rings, and then Mariah was using her hand to force Zoe’s middle finger into the creaming heat of her slit.

“Mommy, I’ve been a bad girl,” Mariah whispered, resuming the rapping of her thigh as she continued to guide Zoe’s finger in and out of herself.

A minute later, Zoe cleared her throat and, on her second try, managed to whisper, “we shouldn’t be doing this.” They were looking each other in the eyes, and the blonde’s finger was stroking on its own now.

“Do you want to stop?”

Zoe didn’t want to stop — she wanted to watch Mariah squirm and feel her climax; she wanted to stroke herself, and ease the molten need building up inside her dripping snatch. But they were in public! The waitress could come back any minute and catch them like this. “I think I need to use the bathroom,” the blonde stammered, belatedly withdrawing her hand.

Mariah looked disappointed. “That’s just cruel,” she pouted. “I was so looking forward to finally seeing your pretty pussy, and you want to run away and jill off by yourself. Is that what you did when you watched me before?”

“No, I really need to pee,” Zoe objected. It was the truth, but she still blushed in the face of Mariah’s accusations. As if putting her need into words had intensified it, her bladder throbbed. “I haven’t gone since breakfast. Please let me out, Mariah.”

“I think I have a solution that could make all of us happy,” Mariah smiled. “Besides, you haven’t seen how I think the video ended!” She turned toward Zoe and reached out to quickly unbutton the blonde’s fly.

“Mariah!” Zoe hissed, trying to keep her voice down, as she batted at the redhead’s hands on her zipper. The close fit of the jeans meant it was nearly impossible to pull the zipper up with one hand while she was seated, and it inexorably slid further down as their battle continued.

Suddenly, Mariah, who had been leaning nearly into Zoe’s lap, slid sideways under the table. The folds of the tablecloth, caught between the table and the back of the redhead’s sweater, pulled everything toward the edge. Zoe reflexively jabbed her hands against the table, pinning the tablecloth in place as the free edge flopped down, and preserving her salad from a dive into her lap. The downside was that she ceded the battle for her zipper to Mariah, who began slowly pulling the jeans down her hips; Zoe tried to press herself against the seat, but the leather upholstery and low rise of the jeans meant her efforts were mostly ineffective. She gripped the waistband, playing tug-of-war.

Worse, Zoe caught the hint of a footstep outside. She schooled herself to stillness as their waitress pulled the curtain aside and looked in.

“How are you two doing?” Janet inquired, glancing at the table. “Is everything tasting okay?”

“It’s very nice, thanks,” replied Zoe. She gracefully transferred her napkin back to her lap, covering the bare skin that appeared as Mariah silently tugged her jeans down to her ankles.

“Can I get you another lemonade?” the waitress persisted. “Would your friend like another drink?”

Zoe could feel Mariah shaking with repressed laughter between her legs. The humor of the situation was getting to her, and she fought a giggle of her own. “Sure,” she decided, “get us both another drink.”

“I’ll have that for you right away,” promised Janet, and she stepped back, drawing the curtain closed. She reappeared a second later, summoned by Zoe’s yelp. “Did you say something?”

“Oh!” the blonde repeated, in a more measured tone. “I dropped my fork under the table; could you bring me another?” Zoe didn’t mention she’d dropped it when Mariah had pushed her tongue against Zoe’s thong.

“Certainly,” Janet smiled before disappearing again.

“Mariah, stop!” Zoe whispered urgently, and pushed at the head-sized lump in the tablecloth between her legs. That didn’t dissuade Mariah from pulling her forward until she balanced on the edge of the seat, and stripping her underwear down her legs too. The napkin dropped to the floor beside the fork, unnoticed.

Zoe wriggled again, but to release nervous energy rather than struggle, as Mariah’s tongue started delicately lapping away the nectar leaking from her pink folds. It felt so much better than a finger or her dildo, infinitely soft and flexible but firm and warm. The redhead’s breath teased the soft hairs of the patch atop her mound and her fingers trailed lightly down the insides of Zoe’s thighs, leaving goose bumps behind them.

Eyes unfocused, Zoe thought back to the image of Mariah she’d watched earlier in the morning, and felt herself come quickly to the edge of orgasm, fueled by the intense stimulation between her legs and the knowledge that it was Mariah herself doing the stimulating. A hard object pressed against her anus before slipping wetly into it; after a moment, Zoe recognized it as the handle of her dropped fork. Her objections died unvoiced as Mariah redoubled her attentions to the blonde’s throbbing clit.

Janet picked that moment to return with the drinks, which she placed on the table before extending a new set of silverware, wrapped in a napkin, to the trembling blonde. Zoe, using her off hand, fumbled it. Both young women watched the bundle fall, spin off the edge of the table, ricochet against the seat back, and slide across the smooth leather to fall under the table with a dull thud. “I’ll get it,” the waitress offered brightly, and stooped before a stricken Zoe could get in a word.

After a long moment which seemed to last much longer, Janet rose and placed the silverware bundle silently on the end of the table, staring at Zoe with wide eyes and open mouth. Zoe stared back at her, wondering if this was how she had appeared to Mariah at the opening assembly. It was eerily the same, except the waitress was a few years older and this was so much nastier…. Mariah began stirring the fork handle in her ass and slurping noisily, and Zoe shook as her knuckles whitened on the edge of the table.

“Oooooh fuck,” the blonde moaned, and shuddered into a delicious orgasm as the waitress fled. The only thing better than this, Zoe thought, would be to have Dean fucking her instead of Mariah’s tongue. Or maybe to have Dean fucking her while she was riding Mariah’s tongue. That thought was enough to make her climax again, biting her lip in an attempt to avoid crying out.

Mariah gave her a moment to catch her breath before commenting from beneath the table, “I thought you needed to pee. I’m waiting.”

“That’s gross,” Zoe objected.

The soft laugh beneath the table wafted across her cunt, teasing her. “It didn’t feel so gross in the hall with Ms. Petersen, did it?” A tongue trailed down her dripping slit. “Go on — I want to drink you up as much as you want to let it go!”

Zoe had always thought of something like that as perverted, but none of the girls — or Ms. Petersen — she’d seen at school had seemed to mind, and Mariah said she wanted it. It had felt so exciting to piss in the library, and she remembered the mild high she’d felt that morning when she wet herself in bed and masturbated. It was erotic, wasn’t it? A little spurt of urine escaped, and Mariah’s mouth clamped over her, sucking.

That decided her; tentatively at first, and then relaxing completely, Zoe let the hot urine jet out of her and down Mariah’s throat. It felt empowering to know she was sitting there half naked in an expensive restaurant while perhaps the most beautiful girl in school worshipped her cunt and let herself be used like a human toilet. The redhead took it all, apparently missing not a single drop.

Mariah wriggled back onto the seat beside her as Zoe leaned back, feeling emptied out and totally relaxed. The two girls shared a deep kiss; Zoe tasted the sharp tang of her urine on Mariah’s tongue.

Janet cleared her throat, attracting their attention. “Is there anything else I can bring you, ladies?” Zoe thought it was cute the way she avoided making eye contact for more than a brief moment at a time, but seemed unable to look away from them. “Would you like some boxes for your salads?”

Zoe nodded, and then added, “yes, please,” unsure the waitress had seen her.

“And let’s see the dessert tray,” Mariah chimed in, with the angelic smile Zoe knew meant trouble for somebody.

“Go easy on her,” Zoe urged after Janet left. Despite her concern, she couldn’t help laughing as she added, “can’t you see she’s practically freaking out?” Her jeans and underwear were still tangled around her feet on the floor, but the blonde took the opportunity to reach between her legs and draw the fork out of her asshole. The handle was smeared all the way to the base of the head, and Zoe handled it gingerly as she laid it on her bread plate.

“Janet can look out for herself,” Mariah laughed back, “but we’re not ending this meal before we share dessert.” A little more seriously, she judged, “I think she would have said something to somebody already if she really had a problem. Here she comes — just play along and stay cool!”

Sure enough, the waitress was back, depositing a pair of empty foam take-home containers in the middle of the table and perching a tray filled with pastries and cakes at the end of it. “All of our desserts are made fresh in-house every day,” Janet began. “This is our molten chocolate lava cake, optionally served a la mode; carrot cake with cream cheese frosting; caramel apple pie with a scoop of cinnamon…”

Her presentation petered out as Mariah leaned back into Zoe, raising her left foot onto the seat, and drawing the hem of her skirt upwards until her wet sex was completely exposed. Zoe wrapped her arms around Mariah, cradling her breasts through the sweater, and craned her head over the redhead’s shoulder to enjoy the view.

“My God, are those real?” Janet whispered, staring at the rings adorning Mariah’s glistening labia. She looked around as if she were about to bolt, but surprised Zoe by not moving. “How old are you little perverts, anyway?”

“Old enough,” Mariah assured her with a smile. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a little taste for dessert? I’m very sweet.”

“I’m sure,” agreed the waitress, with a faint smile, “but you’re not on the menu, and it’s not worth my job. I think perhaps we should all pass on dessert.” Picking up the tray, she departed, saying, “I’ll just get your bill, shall I?”

“You are so bad!” giggled Zoe. “Don’t you ever worry about getting caught?”

“You’ve caught me right now, and that doesn’t seem to have worked out so badly.” Mariah repositioned the blonde’s hands so Zoe could feel her nipples pressing against the sweater. “But come on, one of us can still have dessert — it’s your turn under the table!”

Zoe already had been thinking about Mariah’s pussy in a way that made her own wet again. “Don’t pee on me,” she warned the redhead, “I’m not into that.”

“Yet,” Mariah quipped. After catching a glimpse of Zoe’s frown, she turned serious and added, “I’ll behave.”

Remembering her earlier brush with disaster, Zoe eyed the tablecloth carefully as she slid down the seat and underneath the table. It was a little cramped, and she took a moment to shed her shoes and kick the jeans free of her ankles so she could move about more easily. Mariah already had scooted forward, lifted her skirt out of the way, and spread her legs; Zoe crawled between them and examined the bald pussy on display before her.

It looked a lot like her own, except it was entirely devoid of hair and sported a pair of rings on each side. Still, it was the first time she’d ever been this close to one before. She leaned closer and inhaled deeply, savoring the heady scent of Mariah’s musk. Zoe ran a finger lightly along the bare lips, watching the rings twist in the dim light, and then pushed a finger inwards. It encountered no resistance, sliding easily into Mariah’s slick heat and emerging coated with lubrication.

Zoe sucked her finger clean, delighting in the taste that was so nearly hers but with some ineffable difference that made her drip and want more. The blonde began licking Mariah’s pubis, cleaning the dewdrops that clung to it, and then her tongue darted inside the redhead and she began working in earnest. Zoe might not have eaten out a girl before, but she knew what she liked and — as Dean had discovered — she was a natural.

Mariah was moaning and sighing when Janet returned with the bill. “Can’t you two keep it down?” the waitress pleaded. “The nearest tables can almost hear you.”

“Tell them we really liked the cannoli,” Mariah replied, “and put it all on this.”

“Hey!” Zoe objected, hitting her head on the bottom of the table. “I thought we were splitting the bill!” She fumbled in the pocket of her hoodie for some money, and thrust it in the direction of Janet’s leg. The waitress knelt and accepted it, taking a long look at Zoe, who belatedly remembered she was naked from the waist down. Something about the situation ignited a perverse streak in Zoe and she began stroking her clit, displaying it for Janet, before diving back into Mariah’s creaming snatch and redoubling her efforts to bring off the redhead.

It didn’t take her long to bring Mariah to a vocal climax. Just as with Dean, the rush of moisture from a shuddering body combined with her own teasing finger brought Zoe over the edge into her own delicious orgasm.

Out of breath and feeling flushed, she tossed her clothing onto the seat beside the shopping bags and crawled out from under the end of the table. Zoe unzipped the hoodie and flapped the ends, cooling herself, while she and Mariah traded looks of sated pleasure.

Finally the blonde looked over at her clothes and threaded the thong off of the leg of her jeans. Zoe considered it for a moment, and proceeded to dry her crotch with the scrap of fabric. “Here,” she giggled, “you collect these,” and tossed it to Mariah.

She was just fastening her jeans when Janet returned, wearing a worried expression that relaxed considerably when she saw the girls. “Oh good,” she whispered, “somebody complained to the manager. Just look respectable, okay?” The waitress placed the bill wallet on the table near Mariah and, in a louder voice, told them, “thanks again for visiting JJ’s; I hope we see you again soon!” With a final wink, she departed, leaving the curtain open behind her.

Zoe plopped on the seat next to the bags, obscuring her bare feet, and began transferring the remains of their salads into the take-home boxes while Mariah added a tip to the charge slip and signed it. Both of them smiled politely at the severe-looking gentleman who circulated by a minute later; he slowed beside their booth, but neither stopped nor spoke to them before moving away.

The girls dissolved into laughter. “Look at this!” Mariah gasped, pushing the charge slip across the table to Zoe. “Thanks!” was scribbled at the top and “Guest Copy” was circled at the bottom; but Zoe saw that “Your Server: Janet” was underlined and a phone number was written beneath it.

“Oh my God,” giggled Zoe, “are you going to call her?”

Mariah retrieved the slip, and copied the number to the top of the slip before tearing it in half. “I don’t know; maybe you should call her — I swear she spent more time looking at you than me.” She gave the bottom part back to Zoe.

“No, really?” Surprised, and feeling a mix of satisfaction and embarrassment, Zoe pushed the scrap into a pocket and concentrated on boxing up the last salad. “I couldn’t do that,” she finally admitted, “I already have a relationship with Dean. I couldn’t cheat on him!”

“What do you call this?” Mariah asked, rolling her eyes.

“I –” Zoe stopped, completely flustered. “God, why do you always do this to me? It’s like every time I’m around you, things go all crazy and nothing ends up like I expected!”

“You’re so sweet.” Mariah blew her a kiss. “And here I was thinking I wasn’t getting to you. Luckily for you, I’m not the jealous type, so you can just go on hooking up with both of us.”

“I haven’t hooked up with anybody,” objected Zoe. “Technically,” she added after seeing Mariah’s expression of disbelief.

“Technically?” Mariah rolled the word slowly off her tongue. “As in, ‘technically I’m still a virgin’?” She laughed when Zoe nodded. “I’m sorry, Zoe, I’m not being mean, but what’s the difference?”

“I haven’t had intercourse; you know, with a penis inside me. Everybody knows this other stuff doesn’t count; it’s just — like masturbating but with two people.”

Mariah wove her fingers together and cradled her chin on them. “I’m fascinated. So, is Dean ‘technically’ a virgin, too? What are you two waiting for — your honeymoon?”

Zoe blushed and shook her head. “No! I just don’t want to rush into anything serious I might regret later.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the mall. “I saw how that worked for my friend, and she only took a crappy picture that didn’t hardly even show anything.”

“Zoe, it isn’t serious — it’s a cock. Like masturbating with a vibrator, but without batteries,” Mariah grinned. “And don’t act like you don’t know what I mean, because I got a good look and you’ve had something in there before.” Giggling at the thought, she continued, “Dean must be dying! You know, I could give him some relief and break him in for you — he’d still be just as good, or better…”

“This isn’t a joke!” Zoe screamed, stung by the thought of Dean with Mariah.

“Hey, calm down,” Mariah urged her, holding up her hands. “I’m just saying that both of you are made for sex; OMG, Zoe, you are so hot and it should be illegal to use a tongue like you do. I just don’t see a point in waiting, and you might regret the wasted time later.” The redhead smiled to underline her humor before adding, “and it’s a shame to keep Dean’s cock all to yourself if you aren’t going to use it.”

Zoe smiled sheepishly, not immune to compliments — especially when they came from somebody who was obviously more experienced and so sexy herself. “Sorry,” she apologized, “I guess I’m just a little insecure. Leave it alone, okay?” Mariah nodded, not that Zoe planned to trust her around Dean anyway.

She was bent over, putting on her shoes, when Zoe heard the faint reminder beep from the phone in her pocket. She’d missed the text message when it came in earlier.

“s&k po’d & w8ng 4 u. go 2 macys — shea”

“Some people can’t take a joke,” Mariah commented after Zoe relayed the message. “What do you think? Do you trust her?”

“Shea? Yeah, I think so. Let’s see what she says.” Zoe started typing, and got a response almost immediately. “She’s at the Macy’s mall entrance on the upper level; apparently Sheila and her pals have most of the exits staked out.” Mariah looked impatient, so the blonde shared a bit more of her thinking. “Shea doesn’t know what they’re planning, but I don’t want to mess with Sheila if I can avoid it. If we go past Shea, she’ll just tell everybody she didn’t see us and there’s no problem. Where did you park?”

“Over on the far end, outside Needless Markup.”

“That’s okay,” Zoe decided. “I’m near the mall entrance in the deck, but Macy’s isn’t that far. I can drive you around to your car.”

Mariah groused, “you certainly have interesting friends,” but joined Zoe in standing. She tucked the thong into the Victoria’s Secret bag and then picked up her bags and accepted one of the take-out boxes from Zoe.

“Hardly friends,” Zoe muttered. She typed a last message, “on way,” and pocketed her phone as they walked out. The pair exited through the restaurant’s smaller upstairs entrance and turned left; the anchor store came into view almost immediately, and it took Zoe only a minute to spot Shea’s pink and white coat near the top of the escalator just outside the store entrance. They passed within about 10 yards of Shea, who pointedly continued to scan the mall behind them and didn’t even glance at Zoe when the blonde smiled at her.

It took them several chilly minutes to cross part of the deck, descend a flight of stairs to the lower level, and locate her father’s car. Zoe unlocked the doors and snatched her coat to make room for Mariah in the passenger’s seat; she remembered the DVD as soon she saw the brown bag sitting there, but Mariah grabbed it and sat down before the blonde could do anything. Zoe shrugged and started the car, hoping the engine would warm up quickly.

Mariah started laughing hysterically as soon as she slid the DVD case out of the bag. “This picture makes me look like such a bimbo! I can’t believe you brought this with you, Zoe!” She looked over the case more carefully. “How did you find this, anyway? It’s not like my name is on it.”

Blushing, Zoe admitted, “I thought I recognized you on a different one, but couldn’t find it again. I found this by looking for the same distributor.”

Mariah laughed harder. “You collect my porno videos? I so misjudged you!”

“It’s not like that!” objected Zoe, but she was laughing too. “This is the first adult movie I ever saw, and I only bought it because they wouldn’t let me watch it otherwise. I’m not into kinky stuff like you.”

“Says the girl who just got off with another girl in a public restaurant in front of a total stranger! And don’t try to tell me you bought this at Target.”

“That,” said Zoe, trying to regain the high ground, “is evidence, and I protect my sources. Speaking of which, you never did tell me how it got made. Did TRAINCO have anything to do with it?”

Suddenly serious, Mariah silently looked at her for a long moment. “And what if I said yes? What would you do then?”

A car honked behind them, impatiently waiting for their parking space. “Screw you,” Zoe shouted. Putting the car in gear, she backed out and started towards the parking deck exit. “I’d blow the whistle on them,” she answered the redhead. “It’s illegal, and unethical, and they shouldn’t be taking advantage of us like that. Even those of us who don’t seem to mind it.”

“You’d never be able to prove it, you know, hypothetically, if it were true,” Mariah countered. “Not from just this, or even talking to me. Nobody would believe you.”

“Help me,” Zoe pleaded. “I know you know things about what’s going on; share them with me.”

The redhead considered. “Come with me to Spots sometime,” she finally offered. “Hell, bring Dean if you want to. Just play along; I think I could show you something you’d like to see.”

“I’ll think about it,” replied Zoe, hesitant in her turn. She relished the thought of making progress in her investigation, but an invitation to “play along” with Mariah made her wary — especially with Dean involved. As she’d learned again today, Mariah brought out parts of herself she wasn’t sure about and didn’t seem to be able to control.

Zoe thought about it even more after she’d dropped Mariah at her car, exchanged a parting kiss, and watched the redhead drive away. After calling home with a status report, she worried over the issue the entire drive back. Was there some safer, more controllable, way to find out what she wanted?

February

Zoe pushed cereal around her bowl and reviewed her plans for the day. The business about the nurse had been percolating in the back of her head for awhile now, and it seemed that today was as good a day as any to follow up on it.

It defied reasonable belief a body piercing operation like Paige described could be located at Hyde without raising a stink. Of course, Zoe knew by now that just writing about it would be worthless; an editorial black hole existed to swallow every article she produced.

As Zoe figured it, actually getting a piercing would provide incontrovertible evidence of official complicity. It’d be much better than Paige’s unsubstantiated word. Dean could even photograph it. She squirmed in anticipation at the thought of showing Dean.

The puzzle she’d been working on was what kind of piercing to get. Zoe thought it should be, well, sexual; something noteworthy. Nobody would care about a pierced ear, or navel, or eyebrow, or whatever. Nipple piercings like Paige were out — there was no way Zoe could hide those from her parents, even without the chain. A casual glance at her mother’s hard nipples poking dimples in her thin blouse as she loaded the dishwasher confirmed anything there would be pretty visible.

Getting pierced “down there” like Mariah seemed, well, a little radical. She’d have to expose herself to somebody for it, even if it was in a clinical setting. It wasn’t like Zoe wanted to get pierced; it was just for a story and the information.

She’d finally decided a tongue stud seemed like the way to go. It wouldn’t show much, and she could pretend to have a cold or something for a few days if it was swollen. Plus, Zoe thought, she’d really have something to show Dean — it could be his Valentine’s Day gift.

Becky Ryan returned her daughter’s smile. She’d been a little worried that Zoe had seemed down after the holidays, and it was good to know she was enjoying school again.

Zoe knocked gently on the frosted glass door labeled “Nurse Station / Urgent Care — Shefali Patel, RN” before opening it.

“Come in, please,” invited an attractive woman in a trim white lab coat. “I’m Nurse Patel, but I hope you will call me Shefali. Please lock the door behind you and tell me how I can assist you.” She gestured to an armchair beside her cleared desk. “First, may I please see your badge?”

Zoe handed it over, uncertainly. The nurse inspected it and plugged it into a reader, then studied the popup on her monitor. “Thank you, Zoe; you may have your badge back now.” She noticed the teen’s hesitancy. “Do not be concerned. I merely have confirmed you are an active student here and are eligible for service.”

“Is there a record of my visit?”

“Of course; we keep careful records. But they all constitute part of your medical history, which is stringently protected by law. In fact, I am proud to say TRAINCO also observes EU regulations, which are even more stringent than HIPPA requirements in some respects. Nobody other than the two of us will see your records without a court order.”

“Not even my parents?” Zoe asked dubiously.

Shefali checked the monitor. “No. The system shows that when you registered, they waived custodial rights with respect to your medical care, and you did not elect to grant them access to your medical records.” Zoe’s mind boggled at that statement. Apparently she and her mother had not examined that stack of fine print closely enough! “Now please, be at ease. What brought you here today?”

“I heard you can do piercings?” Zoe asked, a bit uncertainly. “A friend told me about it.”

“Oh, yes!” Shefali confirmed happily. “I can perform a wide variety of cosmetic and personal hygiene procedures. I have a brochure, if you would care to examine it.”

It was a long list, starting with inoculations, acne treatments, contraceptives and pregnancy testing, pedicures, manicures, and quickly graduating to words Zoe did not recognize. “Can I take this with me?”

“Regretfully, no. We wish to avoid needlessly upsetting those in the community who would otherwise be prone to interfere with the choices of others who share different beliefs.”

“That makes sense,” Zoe agreed. “I just don’t understand half of the things you have listed here!”

“So true!” The nurse had a musical laugh. “The medical community likes to be its own little club! But, I am here to interpret for you. I believe you mentioned a piercing? What kind are you interested in?”

“I was thinking of a tongue stud,” Zoe said.

“Oh yes, an excellent choice! Attractive, and very useful too, for a young lady such as yourself,” Shefali added with a knowing look. “For you, I think I would recommend our standard barbell. Are you very familiar with these types of appliances?”

“Not at all,” admitted the teen.

“Well, I will tell you for your information. Our exclusive system has several benefits compared to what you may find available elsewhere.” She rummaged in a cabinet drawer and extracted a small box. “Here is what you get. Unlike some other models, this one unscrews like so” — she demonstrated — “so it is possible to remove or replace it, although it takes some practice to master.”

Shefali dropped the barbell a few inches to the desktop, where it bounced quietly a few times before coming to a rest. “Very importantly, our studs are coated with a proprietary cushioning layer that also has the same antimicrobial properties as surgical steel! This means you will not risk chipping your pretty teeth accidentally.”

She picked up the barbell and replaced it in the box. “Lastly, our advanced installation process allows me to place the stud in your tongue with much less trauma and dramatically faster recovery time than conventional piercing. Most people experience almost no swelling at all, which is how we are able to avoid temporary use of a longer post.”

Zoe picked up the box and looked at it. The general process sounded in line with what Paige had intimated, and sounded less threatening than she’d expected. “So this is it?”

“Well, not this exact stud,” Shefali explained, “it is not sterilized. But I do recommend the ball to begin with. You will find it has all the sensation you desire, without the edges and corners some users find annoying. You may always replace the balls with another shape in the future, if you desire.”

“I want to get this one,” Zoe decided. “What do I have to do next?”

“Well, we can do that now; the procedure is very quick.” The nurse tapped a couple of keys and studied her monitor. “Hmmm, but I see we will need to do a physical first.”

“What?” Zoe hadn’t planned on that. “A physical? Why?”

“To make sure you are in good physical health. I do not wish to play games with your body, Zoe. If you got an infection, you could become very sick. And it is good to be proactive and have a baseline for you. This too is not a very strenuous procedure. If I keep you long enough that you are late for your next class, I will give you a medical tardy slip your teacher will accept.”

“Let’s get on with it, then.”

“Try to sound more excited, Zoe! I am not an ogre, am I?” Shefali opened the rear door of the office. “Here is the exam room; please remove your clothes and sit on the table, and I will be with you momentarily.”

Zoe looked around the small room. She had hung her jacket and ID badge on a wall hook and was unbuttoning her blouse when Shefali rejoined her, carrying a sealed stud box and an electronic tablet. It was hard to continue undressing in the presence of a stranger, personable as she was, but the nurse seemed sensitive to her mood and pointedly studied the tablet rather than Zoe.

The teen didn’t realize it, but that was because the database record for Ryan, Zoe contained flagged special instructions, in addition to her standard physical measurements and inoculation history, and Shefali was considering them carefully.

“Underwear too, please, Zoe,” Shefali directed after a quick glance.

Zoe was glad she was wearing black bikinis today, which didn’t show dampness easily, and that it was still early in the day.

“You are a beautiful young lady, Zoe,” the nurse complimented her. “This will not take a minute, I assure you.” It actually took rather more than a minute, and was far more thorough than the last examination Zoe had received from her family doctor. It was particularly disconcerting to have Shefali peering closely at her legs, armpits, and pubic area.

Finally Shefali announced, “well, Zoe, you are in excellent health.” She consulted the notes she’d entered on the tablet again. “However, there are a few things I would like to discuss with you.”

Zoe nodded nervously.

“First, I detect some dryness on your legs. This probably is from hot showers and too much use of soap, which dries your skin. It is nothing to be concerned about, but I think some moisturizing would help with that and keep your skin from cracking.”

“Also, I found a few ingrown hairs above your pubic mound and under your armpits. You have shaved there, yes?”

Oh God, thought Zoe, how embarrassing. She nodded again. “I had to trim a bit more for the new two-piece swimsuits.”

“I thought so. Shaving is not good for your skin, Zoe.”

“How can that be?” Zoe asked. “Everybody shaves all the time, and nothing ever happens.”

“No, no,” Shefali objected, waving a finger back and forth. “People thought cigarette smoking was okay once also, yes, and they were mistaken. This is not so bad a thing as that.” She pulled up a diagram on the tablet and showed it to the teen.

“You see? Getting scraped by a razor like that damages the skin, irritating it and making it more vulnerable to infections. Additionally, the hair remains and grows back, like a weed when you just break it off instead of uprooting it. The regrown hair actually may become thicker and coarser than it was before, and if it is trapped below the skin and becomes ingrown, it can cause blackheads or worse problems. It is better to remove the hair permanently.”

“You mean waxing, or electrolysis?” Zoe asked. What she’d heard about both left her feeling it would be better to just leave the hair alone.

“Those techniques are unnecessarily painful and slow, and do not work so well,” stated the nurse. “I recommend use of a special depilatory cream.”

The blonde wrinkled her nose. “Like Nair? That stuff is nasty!”

Shefali grimaced too. “Yes, I would agree with you. For stripping paint perhaps, but not for a woman’s skin! No, we have a proprietary formula” — Zoe seemed to be hearing that phrase a lot — “that is far superior. It will moisturize and strengthen your skin, while removing your unwanted hair permanently and painlessly. It is very popular.”

Zoe looked down at herself. “How permanent is ‘permanent’?” She’d remembered waiting for her tuft to sprout at puberty, and wasn’t sure she was ready to say goodbye to it forever.

The woman followed her gaze. “Completely permanent, I must say. You have a choice to make, Zoe. For myself, I would say to remove it; it is much easier to care for. But you must decide for yourself.”

She thought about it. What would she look like, bare? Like Mariah, perhaps? “Take it all off,” Zoe said, suddenly enthusiastic.

“You are sure? This is not a decision you can reverse.”

Zoe nodded.

“Very good,” Shefali congratulated her. “Now, this will be a little messy but not so bad. First, let’s do up your hair and get it all under this cap, yes? We do not want to remove any of this.”

Zoe donned the shower cap and checked carefully to make sure her tresses were completely tucked into it.

Meanwhile, the nurse had donned some elbow-length gloves and looked like she was ready to start painting a house. “Okay, Zoe, all I need is for you to stand here, with your legs apart like so and remain still. Do not be disconcerted; I must touch you all over to make sure the cream is completely distributed.”

With that, she removed the lid from a bucket and began painting a faintly cool purple gel down Zoe’s arm, using what appeared to be a normal paint brush. Using broad strokes, Shefali progressively covered nearly all of the girl’s body from shoulders to toes. “Now the mess,” Shefali announced. Setting the brush aside, she dipped both hands in the bucket and began to spread more of the gel across Zoe, working out from the brush strokes and massaging it across every inch of her skin below the neck.

It was particularly embarrassing for Zoe to feel the nurse massaging the gel around and into her crotch. The only saving grace was that Shefali remained cheerfully impersonal even when she slathered a handful of gel on Zoe’s butt and worked it down the length of her crack, even to the point of gliding fingers briefly into her anus and vagina.

“All done!” Shefali announced. “That was not so bad, yes?”

“It was okay, I guess,” admitted Zoe.

“Good! Now, if you use the shower here” — the nurse pushed open the door with her back — “to rinse all of that off, I will clean up out here and then we will take care of your tongue.”

Zoe lumbered carefully into the stall and started the water. It became warm almost immediately, and she washed off the gel under the spray. It melted away from her skin effortlessly, her skin tingling under the pounding of the water. Although she looked for it, Zoe didn’t see any hair going down the drain. But when she finished, she didn’t see any hair on her body, either.

The blonde ran a hand down one arm. Her hand felt smooth, soft, skin gliding under it. Her arm felt a trail of tingles where the fingertips passed, raising goose bumps momentarily. She shivered. “Shefali, is it normal for my skin to be more sensitive?”

“Sometimes,” the nurse answered from the exam room. “I believe the sensation will diminish in a little bit.” Actually, it wouldn’t diminish at all, but presumably Principal Edwards had his reasons for directing her to use this instead of the more neutral depilatory cream.

Zoe turned off the water and started toweling herself dry. Embarrassingly, her nipples became tight and erect almost immediately after she started rubbing down her breasts. She carefully patted the rest of her body dry, but her bare mound was equally sensitive. Her totally exposed sex was flowered open in glistening readiness. When she removed the shower cap, Zoe was sure she could feel every individual hair that brushed her neck and shoulders.

She wrapped the towel about herself and padded back to the exam room, where Shefali was waiting for her. Zoe’s hopes for a dignified escape were crushed.

“Come, come, and let us see how you look! How can we tell anything with you wrapped up like that?” Shefali held out an imperious hand.

Very, very, reluctantly, Zoe let the towel fall away from her body and handed it to the nurse. It felt totally different than being naked in front of somebody with a sexual interest in her. Totally humiliating, actually.

“Yes, I see,” Shefali observed, making an additional note on her pad. “Tell me, does this hurt?” She ran a fingertip from Zoe’s navel down to just above her pussy. Zoe’s insides clenched and a glistening dewdrop of feminine nectar dripped on the floor.

Zoe replied, “no,” as she felt the heat of her blush. “It doesn’t hurt at all — it’s just really sensitive.”

“You can get dressed, then. Hop up on the table when you are done.” Another note went into the electronic pad, and Shefali pulled on a new pair of surgical gloves.

Not needing to be told twice, Zoe quickly donned her clothes. They felt a bit prickly, except for her bikinis, which were on their way to becoming sodden. Finally she had arrived at the point of her visit.

“Now, this is a little tricky,” Shefali warned her after arranging the tray to her satisfaction. “You open your mouth and stick out your tongue. I will numb it with this swab, then hold your tongue here and insert the stud and first ball. I then attach the other ball. After a moment, you can rinse your mouth and we are done! Are you ready?”

For her answer, Zoe opened her mouth and extended her tongue.

“Very good!” Shefali praised her, dabbing some green gunk on it. As promised, Zoe lost sensation in her tongue almost immediately. The nurse grabbed something — Zoe couldn’t feel a thing — with her forceps, and then pushed another instrument into her crowded mouth. “Open wide! Hold still!”

There was a faint “thunk” and the instruments were removed, as the nurse admonished her, “don’t move! Don’t move!” Then Shefali attaching the other ball with a few deft turns of the hand.

“Congratulations, Zoe, that was very well done. Now you have only one task left. I need you to rinse your mouth with this water, and spit it out in the sink, without biting your tongue.” She used a small bulb syringe to squirt the water into Zoe’s mouth.

Gingerly closing her lips, Zoe swished the water around and walked to the sink. She spit into it, then looked into the small wall mirror above it and opened her mouth. The silver ball glistened atop her tongue.

“Hw lnn wll ii be iith waaay?” she lisped.

Shefali laughed. “About five minutes.” She led the way back into the waiting room. “You were an excellent patient, Zoe! Don’t forget I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks, Sefaai,” Zoe said, almost normally. She suspected her skin was going to take as much getting used to as the stud.

After spending lunch with Shefali, Zoe had to suffer impatiently through her chemistry class before she could hunt for Dean at the yearbook room. She still wasn’t sure if the sensitivity of her skin had diminished, or she’d just grown a little more accustomed to it. Whatever the case, there was no way she was going to wait any longer than necessary to get some badly-needed release.

Zoe couldn’t bear to suffer through another period. “Ms. Petersen, can I borrow Dean? I had an idea for some pictures to go with that article you wanted, but I think the angle of the sun will be wrong if we wait.”

The teacher smiled. “I don’t think that would be a problem, Zoe. Joanne, will that interfere with what you’d planned to work on today?”

“Oh, like, whatever, Zoe.”

Zoe didn’t waste another instant in dragging Dean off to the library. He obviously sensed her excuse was a fabrication, but welcomed any time to spend with her. She found one of the team study rooms empty and appropriated it, marking the reservation sheet for the rest of the day.

“Okay, what gives?” Dean asked with easy humor.

“I visited the nurse today,” Zoe responded, “and what Paige says is true. I got proof!”

“What proof?” the suddenly curious boy inquired.

“This” — she stuck out her tongue so he could see the stud in it — “for one.” He looked fascinated, already considering the possibilities, and Zoe eyed the growing bulge in his pants.

Zoe reached beneath her skirt and pushed her dripping panties down her legs, then stepped out of them. “And for another… this.” She raised the skirt to display her bare mons and her slippery readiness.

“God, Zoe,” he gasped. His look of naked desire made her even hotter, and his pants were actually tenting.

He started fumbling with his zipper, and Zoe knelt to help pull his slacks down and off. Like many of the students, Dean hadn’t bothered with underwear today. His rigid cock stood out from his body, but Zoe was appalled to find bite marks on it!

“Dean!” she shouted, then guessed the likely perpetrator. “Mariah did this, didn’t she?”

When he nodded guiltily, she almost started to cry. “Why? Why couldn’t you control yourself?”

“I did control myself,” he protested angrily. “Listen, it wasn’t what you think.” He tried to calm himself, watching Zoe pace away from him with her arms wrapped around herself. Finally she turned back to listen.

“It was the end of lunch; I was pissing with the guys.” Zoe nodded unwillingly. The potted palm by the door was long gone, but now there a few tables almost always populated by girls who, for whatever incomprehensible reason, were willing to drink the urine of all comers.

“Anyway, Mariah was there. You know how she is. She made a play, claimed she had an understanding with you, but all she got from me was piss.” Dean’s frustration started surfacing. “I’m the one standing here with fucking bites — very painful, thank you — on my cock, and you’re standing there condemning me for something I didn’t even do!”

“Look, Zoe, I’m still a virgin, and I want my first time to be with you, but I can’t wait forever!” He walked over to her, appeal on his face and rampant need jutting between his legs.

“I just don’t know…” she temporized.

“Well, I fucking do!” he snapped, and pushed her backwards onto the table. Zoe screamed a denial as Dean threw himself on top of her, the head of his cock pushing at her before finding her entrance and forcing its way inside.

Zoe screamed a second time as he stretched her. Dean was bigger than her dildo, but she could feel herself creaming around him. He bucked once or twice, and Zoe screamed a third time, orgasming wildly beneath him. The feel of her muscles clenching him spastically set off Dean’s climax, and he jetted wad after wad of cum into her.

It wasn’t enough, not for either of them. Zoe pushed Dean back onto his feet, and then slid forward off the table to squat on the floor and take him in her talented mouth. She’d always been a great cocksucker, but with the stud, she was beyond awesome — and Dean was still massively aroused by the situation. It didn’t take much time to bring him to another orgasm. Zoe cleaned him carefully, enjoying his hot spunk.

Dean’s cock softened slightly in her mouth, and he began pissing into Zoe. The taste exploded on her tongue, and after a surprised instant, she realized it satisfied some craving she hadn’t known she had.

Zoe started gulping down the warm piss, excited again. Creamy jism was dripping from her gash and it didn’t take many strokes of her fingers against her oh-so-sensitive clit to bring herself off again.

Dean was dry, but Zoe couldn’t get enough of him. Coating a finger with the scalding lube dripping from her, she worked it into his ass to massage his prostate. She felt a new frisson of excitement and anticipation as he instantly went quivering rock-hard in her mouth.

She was shocked when he pulled out of her grasp and stepped away, leaving her mouth gaping. Why was he stopping just when he was getting so nice and hard again? Zoe tried to focus on the words he was shaping with his mouth.

“…are you deaf? Do you want Mrs. Jones to catch us like this?” Dean asked her again.

“Zoe, is everything okay in there?” the librarian called, knocking on the door. “Did you hear the last bell ring?”

God, the bus! Where had the time gone? “Thanks, Mrs. Jones! I guess I just lost track of time; I’ll be right out!” What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking, Zoe realized. And there wasn’t time for it now. She grabbed her underwear and made an attempt to wipe herself off — oh God, that felt so good — and tossed the soiled garment in the trashcan. It looked like she was making a habit of losing underwear in that building.

Dean got a quick kiss goodbye as he was hopping into his pants, and then Zoe was flying out the door to the bus stop.

Behind her, Dean hesitated, and then retrieved the abandoned underwear from the trashcan. He was painfully hard, desperate with desire, and mentally kicking himself for being so stupid. How could he have forced Zoe like that? Having gone all the way, how could he have stopped her when he did? Her aroma still filled the air, driving him wild.

Dean brought her panties to his face and inhaled, then began licking and sucking the sodden fabric, driven to a frenzy by the feminine juices mixed with his own discharge. Unlike his solo sessions at home, no anal stimulation was required to drive the teen into a paroxysm of release that left him doubled over momentarily in pain as slime began geisering onto the wall beside the doorway.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Jones asked from the doorway, surprising him. As he looked up, her expression flashed rapidly from concern to disapproval to surprise. Her hands flew to her crotch, but not quickly enough to disguise the rapidly spreading wet spot there, and she fled.

Dean rapidly finished dressing and likewise made a hurried departure, Zoe’s underwear still in his possession.

Zoe spent a largely sleepless night pondering how she’d reached her present situation. Whatever she’d actually said the previous afternoon, it was clear from the way she juiced up thinking about it that she’d gotten exactly what she wanted from Dean. Examined by any standard she’d have used in previous years, it was as good as rape, plain and simple. What happened after that seemed perverse and degrading, even now.

The conundrum was, it was a perverse degradation she was looking forward to repeating. Zoe’s mouth felt dry. Could the entire universe have swung so badly out of kilter without her noticing?

She thought, then, about going to her parents — or somebody — and telling them what she knew. Zoe knew they’d freak out and yank her away from Hyde; probably to a reform school somewhere! And possibly she was just exaggerating matters in her own mind. Zoe resolved to wait, and look around with fresh eyes, and talk with Dean. She recalled him saying something about Mariah, but she’d been so wired with anger and desire that she’d never gotten the details.

School the next day was a sobering eye-opener. It was as if Zoe had woken from a dream, but the dream was still going on around her. Nothing really seemed that different from the previous days, but now it felt twisted and unnatural.

Claudia had a dreamy expression on her face when they met at the bus stop, and masturbated herself almost continuously on the ride to school. Zoe oozed sympathetic desire into her panties but forced herself to behave. Most of the boys drank heavily from their water bottles from the moment they boarded the bus, and not a few of the girls tracked every movement of those bottles with eager expressions.

From the moment Zoe walked through the security gate and into the building, the smell of urine was everywhere, but it was a sweet, heady, intoxicating scent. She couldn’t turn a corner without stumbling into another girl nursing from some boy’s cock.

In geography, they had a pop quiz. The silent scritch-scritch of pencils was broken by the sound of running water when Crystal suddenly wet herself, soaking her skirt and leaving a spreading puddle beneath her chair. It didn’t seem to faze her, as she continued to stare at the quiz while chewing on her pencil eraser, or any of the other students. Ms. Anders looked up from the papers she was grading for only a moment.

Second hour was complete chaos. Coach Gold was nowhere to be seen, and the junior girls milled about in the locker room, mostly naked. An argument about fisting evolved into an impromptu competition; Paige quickly volunteered to take measurements. Zoe changed into her bikini and went looking for the boys.

She found them by the pool. The juniors, and what looked a few senior holdovers from the previous hour, clustered beside the diving boards. Nearly everybody was drinking copiously from several large coolers of TRAINCO’s Gatorade equivalent. Zoe could hear Shefali saying “proprietary formula” in her mind.

The blonde approached unnoticed, as everybody’s attention was focused on the action on the deck. Most of the boys in the center of the crowd were naked. As she watched, Kevin stepped onto a short platform aligned with the end of the pool and fisted himself a few times. His erect cock looked huge. One of the other boys measured the distance from the ground to the root of his cock with a tape measure and called, “4 feet even!” before stepping back.

Amid shouted encouragement and cheers, Kevin angled his penis and began to pee, lofting himself slightly to try and extend the arch of his golden stream. Zoe thought it went a shockingly long distance, although the commentary she heard as it was measured with a tape suggested it wasn’t one of the best efforts of the morning.

Zoe finally caught sight of Dean, thankfully near the rear of the crowd, and sidled over to tug on his arm. “Dean!” she whispered.

He turned, chugging a drink, smiled at her, and wiped his mouth on an arm. “Zoe! Am I glad to see you!” He stepped with her slightly away from the others. “Are you okay?” Dean asked with concern. “I feel bad about yesterday. I mean, I know what I did wasn’t really right.”

Zoe grimaced. “I think we both got what we wanted, Dean.” A glance downward at the offending body part revealed he was partially erect and nearly ready to extend out of his briefs. She really wanted to stroke him, but refrained. “I wasn’t thinking too clearly yesterday, either.” She smiled her forgiveness at him. “Listen, what did Mariah tell you at lunch? I wasn’t really listening yesterday,” she sheepishly admitted.

“Something about Spots,” Dean said. “There’s something going on there, something hidden that only a few people know about. She can get us in the door.”

“Us, or you?” Zoe asked with a tinge of jealousy.

“Us,” he clarified. “Mariah specifically told me the invitation was for you, but that maybe you’d listen if it came from me instead of her.”

Zoe couldn’t imagine how anything at Spots could account for what was happening around her — but the offer was the only tangible lead she had. The question was, should she wait and try to learn more on her own, or go to somebody now?

Coach Zegmet shouted, “855 milliliters — a new record!” and his voice was drowned out by cheering boys. “Give the man a prize!” Zoe realized some of the others had noticed her. So had the coach.

“You, girl! Get over here!” he ordered.

She thought about running, but Dean held her back. “Don’t make waves! Remember the invitation — we don’t want anybody wondering about you.”

Silently cursing her luck, Zoe walked onto the wet patio. She was acutely conscious of the many eyes and dicks pointed at her.

“Girl,” Coach Zegmet addressed her while slapping the lanky youth next to him on the back, “you are looking at the champion pisser of Hyde High! Why don’t you show him a little respect and have a taste of what he’s offering?” The request was clearly intended as an order, and the crowd cut off any chance of escape.

She squatted, trying to stay out of the puddles, and sucked him into her mouth. He tasted different, but not bad. “Oh man,” he exclaimed, growing hard, “she’s got a stud; this feels fucking awesome!” He grabbed the back of her head and started fucking Zoe’s face.

The first stream of urine hit her back a minute later. It was quickly joined by others. Zoe couldn’t see anything, but it felt as if a dozen or more of the boys were directing their piss across every inch of her body. She concentrated on the rigid rod between her lips, urging it to give her its milky seed.

The inevitable conclusion to that quest arrived shortly, and Zoe’s mouth filled with delicious gooey spunk. She savored the taste before swallowing, and let her benefactor pull away from her.

An unexpected shove made her lose her balance. Zoe rolled to the ground, coming to rest on her back. The circle of boys began hosing down her previously dry breasts, and the irregular pressure of urine raining onto her crotch made her pant.

Two of the senior boys knelt at either side of her so they could lift Zoe into a half-sitting position. The barrage stopped and Zoe looked up to see Kevin straddle her, penis dripping on her stomach, and heft a large laboratory jar nearly full of urine. “Coach said you needed to sample Tad’s piss,” he taunted her.

From the corner of her eye, Zoe saw Dean standing in the front rank of onlookers. With a sense of betrayal, she realized he was urgently stroking his hard tool as he watched her degradation.

Zoe had no further attention to spare. Kevin began pouring the urine on her face, while his accomplices held her head in place. The torrent was far stronger than the blonde could cope with, and she choked for air while simultaneously trying to swallow as much of the golden elixir as she could. Some part of her wanted it, but Zoe was furious at being forced this way.

Then it was over. The boys simply left her lying there, soaked and streaked with semen, and the coach herded them off to the showers. Dean remained behind and offered her a hand up.

“Dean,” Zoe suggested, “I think there’s too much going on here for us to handle. I think maybe we should tell somebody and try to get the school closed down.”

“Why?” he asked, clearly surprised. “We both know TRAINCO is a crock, but the school itself is great! You’ve written that yourself, many times. We could get into the internship program — there’s nothing like it anywhere in the country! We’re getting the best high school education money can buy!”

“Education!” screamed Zoe. “This is no education! Look at me — what kind of life am I being prepared for? Am I going to intern in a brothel?!” She wiped a sticky rivulet from her eyebrow with a finger.

Dean looked — and fisted his erect organ, making the tip drip. “You look pretty hot to me!” Before she could explode, he added, “Kidding! Seriously, you’re an investigative journalist, and a damn good one. Even if nobody but you, me, and Ms. Petersen knows it. We’re a great team. Have confidence in yourself, Zoe; we can do this.”

Zoe wasn’t so sure. The words were compelling, but did Dean have to stroke himself and look at her like that the entire time he was talking? Relenting, she pulled him towards her and he pushed the crotch of bikini bottoms aside, spearing her against the wall. The pounding of her back against the rough stucco and the delicious feel of Dean spreading her brought Zoe off quickly. He convulsed and filled her with a load of thick seed that seemed like it would never end, to the accompaniment of giggles and hushed whispers as members of the incoming sophomore swim class watched in awe. He really did have a big cock, she thought, watching it pull out of her. The other girls watched closely too, many of them apparently peeing themselves with excitement.

She could wait a day, at least. She’d been patient this long. But no longer than she needed to, Zoe decided. For once leaving Dean to the eager tongues of the JV girls, she tugged her suit back in place and paced into the locker room.

Disdaining the showers, she marched resolutely to the physics lab. Even by Hyde standards, the junior’s disheveled appearance warranted second looks. Zoe flung open the door and stomped into the class, disrupting the lecture in progress.

Mariah’s puzzled expression shifted to a beatific smile when she realized the sopped and dripping girl covered in male spunk approaching her was Zoe.

“8 PM,” the junior stated tersely.

“9”, retorted the senior. She stroked a fingertip across the point of Zoe’s breast, enjoying the way the blonde caught her breath. “The wait will be good for you. And, Zoe — dress to kill; it is the Valentine’s Dance, after all.”

“Fine.” Zoe walked out the same way she’d entered, with a parting, “sorry for the interruption.”

Zoe walked into Spots that evening looking like a TRAINCO wet dream. A near-sighted spectator might be forgiven for thinking she was wearing her usual uniform, but that was far from the case. The pinstripe skirt was much too short, for one, barely longer than the uniform jacket. The white blouse was entirely absent. She wore her favorite red fuck-me heels. They happened to match the red lace half-bra that supported Zoe’s breasts without covering her sensitive nipples, but the buttoned jacket covered most of her chest, and a tie consisting entirely of silver sequins obscured her cleavage.

She wore red lace bikini panties, not too lacy, to catch any moisture; they weren’t the thong that came with the bra, but Zoe had found the racier lingerie rubbed her tingling privates to the point of aroused distraction. Long dangly earrings reproduced the tie in miniature. She’d gone next door and allowed Claudia to apply mascara and eyeliner, in addition to vivid red lipstick.

Privately, Zoe thought the spray glitter was complete overkill. She was not Britney Spears, for God’s sake. The hair was bad enough, but Claudia had wanted to do Zoe’s entire body. The older girl had thought it was hilarious when she sprayed her bare privates and Zoe had orgasmed on the spot. She’d flatly refused to use any more, and had wiped off what she could, but that wasn’t enough. Payback would be a bitch, she vowed.

Dean was dressed in much more subdued fashion, but Zoe really liked look of those tight slacks on him. She’d caressed him through the material on the drive over, leaving the outline of his engorged penis clearly visible. A little suffering for him would be good; she still hadn’t entirely forgiven him for that morning.

Zoe had wondered more than once what Mariah would wear, but was flabbergasted to see her dressed virtually identically to herself! The hair color was different, and there was no glitter in it — damn Claudia, anyway — but otherwise it was like looking at herself in a mirror.

“Why, Zoe,” the redhead exclaimed as she sashayed over, “we’re wearing the same outfit — how embarrassing!” She gave Dean a welcoming kiss, squeezing his cock as she brushed his lips with hers. Then Mariah repeated the process with Zoe, who shifted her hip to ward off the hand that quested briefly under her skirt. “Don’t look too surprised; Paige isn’t the only one who can hack computers. And I know where you like to shop.”

Mariah took up her position beside Dean so the two girls framed him like bookends, and urged them across the club. Zoe saw any number of knowing looks as people accepted the coordinated outfits as evidence of collusion. Well, she’d given up on fruitless denials weeks ago, anyway.

They reached the mysterious door marked “Reserved for Private Parties Only,” and Mariah pushed it open. The room grew suddenly quiet as the door closed, cutting off noise from outside. The click of Mariah setting the lock was easily audible.

Zoe and Dean looked around curiously. The room was furnished like a cozy, if spacious, private study, and empty except for the three teenagers. The entire left-hand wall was a single mirror, making the room look twice as big as it was.

“Come and have a drink,” Mariah invited them, moving to a tray sitting on the desk. She handed two of the tall glasses to Dean and Zoe before picking up the last one for herself. “Cheers,” the redhead toasted, “to good friends and better times.”

Zoe sipped her drink but stopped after the first taste. “What is this?”

Mariah knocked back about a third of her glass. “Just the usual swill, but I spiked it with urine. I prefer it from girls as a mixer, because I think it has a fuller taste and more body. I made this myself; do you like it? Oh come on, Zoe, just try it.”

To be polite, Zoe took another sip. It actually wasn’t that bad; it certainly tasted better than what she’d been forced to drink that morning, but perhaps it was just the ambiance.

“Where’s the rest of the party?” Dean asked.

Mariah laughed lightly. “It’s just us here tonight. I thought that would be more… intimate.”

Zoe pushed to the point of the meeting. “Then what it is you wanted to tell us?”

“Tell you?” Mariah took another long drink. “I wasn’t planning to tell you anything. I want to show you things.”

“What things? Where?” asked Zoe, suspiciously. There was no place to set down her glass without getting closer to Mariah, so she took another drink instead. Maybe it was an acquired taste; it did seem smoother.

“Oh, Zoe,” Mariah laughed again. “Some day the light will come on and you’ll see it. Everything I want to show you is right here.”

Dean re-examined the room more thoughtfully as he finished his drink. There was nothing that looked noteworthy or out of place, and no filing cabinets or computers that might hold interesting information. “Is this a trick?” demanded Zoe.

Mariah set down her empty glass and walked towards them again. Zoe, not wanting to be the odd person out, drained the remainder of her glass in a single swallow, but kept her focus on the other girl.

“I think it’s long past time we got to know each other. There’s been friction in the past, and I know some of that is because I didn’t recognize the relationship you two have.” She looked compellingly at Zoe.

“We can be friends, Zoe. Let’s get to know each other, together, and learn to enjoy each other’s company. I can show you some things; you can show me some things; we’ll both have what we came for.”

Zoe nodded, and Dean followed her lead.

“Good.” Mariah’s face wore the beautiful pixie smile that Zoe found so attractive. “Let’s start with a simple little ice-breaker game.” She turned to retrieve a deck of cards from the shelf beside the desk, and shuffled the deck twice. Fanning the cards in her hand, she held them out to them face-down. “Each of you, pick a card.”

They both complied with the harmless request, which incidentally drew them closer together. Mariah chose a card for herself. “What did you draw?”

Zoe had the queen of hearts; Dean had drawn the five of spades; and Mariah revealed the two of clubs.

“Zoe, you remember our mirror game, don’t you?” Mariah brushed her own nipple casually, but the reminder was unnecessary.

“Yes, why?” Dean looked a little confused, but Zoe had never really explained everything that had happened to her in that encounter.

“We’re going to play it again. Now Dean, you drew the middle card, so you get to be our mirror. Zoe and I are the images on each side of you; whatever one of us does, so does the other. We stop when you want to.”

Mariah tossed the cards on the desk, including the king of diamonds she had palmed. “I admit I stacked the deck this time,” she giggled. “With the two of us looking so drop-dead gorgeous, how could art not imitate life?” She stepped to Dean’s side, bracing herself on his arm, and planted a kiss on his cheek, one heel kicked back in the air.

“Zoe!”

The junior mimicked the pose, leaving some of her lipstick on his cheek.

“Good girl! Now it’s your turn!” encouraged Mariah.

Zoe held onto his upper arm and pushed her butt out, legs straight, before pouting.

Mariah pulled herself against Dean and slid her crotch down his leg until she squatted beside him. Duplicating that maneuver got Zoe a little excited, but she remembered she needed to stay in control. For her turn, she rose, took a step back, and unbuttoned her jacket.

Looking faintly disappointed, Mariah mirrored her, but then removed the jacket entirely. Zoe shucked hers, and thought about what to do next. Dean was looking back and forth between them in obvious approval. The blonde discarded her bra; the lace made her itch anyway.

Mariah was topless now also, except for the sequined tie. Zoe thought she looked so beautiful, and it excited her to realize she herself was equally hot.

Mariah pulled on both nipples. Dirty pool, thought Zoe; her breasts tightened as she tugged her own stiff buds. “Don’t I get anything out of this?” Dean asked.

Zoe stepped in and planted a hand on his straining member, squeezing it through his pants. A moment later, Mariah’s hand covered hers and squeezed again. Zoe could feel Dean’s reaction. Mariah unfastened Dean’s belt. How did she mirror that? Zoe wondered.

She settled for an approximation, and popped the waist button before unzipping him. Zoe caught Mariah’s approving nod, and in unison the two girls pulled his pants to the floor, freeing Dean’s trembling penis. It looked good enough to eat, the tip already glistening.

Zoe tried to remember whose turn it was. Hers, apparently; Mariah was waiting. She ran her tongue up his leg from knee to hip. Mariah followed but rose to suck at his nipple through his shirt. Zoe teased the other nipple before kissing him on the mouth, sliding her tongue out to meet his.

She didn’t like it so much when Mariah kissed him the same way, but fair was fair. Mariah placed Dean’s hand under her skirt. Zoe couldn’t see what happened, but obviously Dean knew. He reached for her and cupped her mound through her sodden panties, which made her whole body throb.

Wanting more, Zoe tore away her underwear and pushed Dean’s fingers into her creaming channel, riding him. A pleased Mariah was only too happy to mirror her. Dean’s cock was pulsing precum down its head and his breathing was hoarse.

Mariah removed Dean’s fingers and lifted them to her mouth, licking and sucking them clean. Zoe didn’t hesitate to follow the redhead’s lead; the taste of her own juices excited her even more.

Struck by inspiration, Zoe realized she knew where there were more juices to be had, and how she could foreclose the other girl. She knelt in front of Dean and sucked his cock deep into her mouth. Then she held him there, caressing him with her studded tongue. Take that, Mariah!

Refusing to be stymied, the redhead crouched behind Dean. Spreading his buns, Mariah leaned forward and began spearing her tongue into his ass.

The dual stimulation rapidly got to Dean and he erupted in Zoe’s mouth. Neither girl relented, and finally he was forced to hop aside, shouting, “stop already!”

The two girls looked at each other with heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips, and then Mariah leaned forward and licked a trace of jism from the corner of Zoe’s mouth. They shared a sloppy kiss, with Zoe pushing some of Dean’s creamy spend into Mariah’s mouth, and sucking the spicy tang of his anus from Mariah’s tongue.

“My God, you two are insatiable!” Dean exclaimed, watching them in mingled disbelief and arousal. The girls shared sultry giggles.

“You can shuffle this time,” Mariah told him.

He obediently collected the cards from the desktop and started shuffling them.

“Were you actually planning to show us anything except a good time?” Zoe asked Mariah as she climbed to her feet.

“Yes, but the showing is in the showing,” the senior hinted mysteriously, and changed the subject. “Aaah,” she complained, “I can’t believe you like these shoes!” Mariah unfastened them and kicked them off her feet, wriggling her toes in pleasure.

By mutual agreement, the girls shed their remaining garments before walking over to the desk.

“Cut?” queried Dean. He slid the shuffled deck across the desk towards Zoe.

She picked up the cards, and then tossed them into the wastebasket. “Not really. I want to be the mirror this time!” Neither of the other two was willing to disagree.

“Won’t this be a little more complicated?” Dean wanted to know. “Nothing personal,” he added, but swung his cock back and forth for clarification.

“Not as much as you might think,” Mariah promised. She opened the door of one of the glass front bookshelves. The books themselves proved to be a false front, part of the door, and revealed several storage shelves.

She quipped, “meet ‘Woody,'” and extracted a dildo attached to a harness. It was perhaps slightly larger than Zoe’s, ever so slightly S-shaped, and covered with hundreds of little 4 mm-long fingers. Opposite the base of the dildo, on the inside of the mounting plate, there was a rounded pad covered with more of the fingers.

Stepping into the harness, Mariah pulled it up her legs until the mounting plate covered her sex, and snugged the straps above the curves of her hips.

Dean pulled off his shirt and Zoe moved a few paces so she was positioned between the others. She looked back and forth between them, and Dean graciously offered, “ladies first.”

Mariah wasted no time before grabbing her “cock” at the base and pumping her hand up and down it. Her face wore an outrageously exaggerated expression of lust.

Zoe and Dean both laughed, but he gamely played with himself. His meat began throbbing as he considered what he wanted to do to his sensuous girlfriend. Dean already knew he was going to be giving her a royal fucking, but he wanted her ready first.

He bent to suck her erect nipple into his mouth, then increased the suction, drawing as much of her breast into his mouth as possible. Zoe gasped, and then squealed as Mariah directed her attention to the other breast. Her legs almost folded beneath her when Mariah began chewing gently on her inflamed nipple; Zoe was panting rapidly after Dean reciprocated.

He straightened a few fingers and reached for her dripping gash. “Don’t let her cum too quickly,” admonished Mariah, so he modified his plan and cupped her crotch, then wiped a trail of glistening wetness up her tummy.

“Whose side are you on?” Zoe moaned, as Mariah repeated the arousing caress. Past caring about rules in the face of her need, the blonde tried to finger herself, but Mariah intercepted her wrist too soon. “Damn,” the redhead hissed, realizing she’d wasted her turn. Dean grabbed Zoe’s other wrist, leaving her effectively immobilized.

Building on Mariah’s advice, Dean slowly touched the tip of his cock to Zoe’s slit, pulling away when she rose on her toes and arched forward in a futile attempt to increase contact with it. Mariah smiled appreciatively at him and Dean returned a grin. The redhead gracefully maneuvered her dildo through the same teasing contact.

Mariah eyed the moisture running down the inside of Zoe’s thighs, and then slapped the blonde’s ass as hard as she could. Zoe screamed, and then swore. “That hurt!” She looked imploringly at Dean, who seemed mesmerized by the red handprint on her cheek.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, “those are the rules.” Dean belted her with his off hand, but his greater strength evened things out. Zoe screamed again and writhed as though her ass was on fire. The erotic sight and powerful feeling of control made Dean’s cock surge. Mariah’s eyes were bright.

Zoe wailed, “Dean!” making it sound like an accusation.

It reminded him of who really deserved that kind of treatment. Releasing Zoe’s wrist, Dean leaned across and jerked Mariah towards him. The roundhouse slap to her butt echoed in the room and caused her to stumble against Zoe momentarily.

He nastily chuckled, “payback,” and turned his ass towards the girls in pointed challenge. Zoe rubbed her painful buns and watched Mariah strike him back. The redhead didn’t put as much force into the blow, but her nails left a trail of angry red scratches across Dean’s right cheek.

“Ooops!” Mariah said, wearing her best waifish smile, when Dean whirled around in surprise. He was still fully erect and leaking, however, as he watched for Mariah’s next move.

She elected to turn and embrace Zoe. The flustered blonde wanted to scream with frustrated desire as Mariah’s tongue invaded her mouth, her aching breast was squeezed and massaged, and the dildo pressed against her tummy.

Mariah stepped back, a bit flushed herself, but Zoe was moaning softly and had her eyes closed. Slimy precum oozed from the tip of Dean’s quivering rod at the sight of this hot girl-on-girl action.

A minute later, after Dean somehow found the strength to break his own embrace with Zoe, he could barely think. Zoe’s breathing was a rapid series of short moans. Her diaphragm glistened where his cock had been trapped between them. She opened her eyes, desire burning in them, and pleaded, “fuck me!”

“Be careful,” Mariah purred with delight. She was tight as a wire and burning up with arousal at the mind-fuck she was laying on them. It was obvious this wouldn’t — couldn’t — go on much longer.

All Dean knew was that he needed to be inside Zoe. He lifted her by the waist and lowered her onto his raging erection. Her slippery hot channel enveloped him and Dean almost dropped Zoe as she began wriggling in an effort to impale herself more fully on him.

He could never describe where he found the self-control to lift the blonde back off again, or how he avoided her efforts to lock her legs around him. The entire length of his cock shone with Zoe’s desire, and his weapon jerked in step with the pace of his speeding heart.

Zoe practically attacked Mariah, slamming the dildo inside herself and then rocking her hips back and forth. Mariah stiff-armed her back off the dildo, a feat made possible only by the dildo’s relatively shorter length and the fact that the two girls were the same height.

The redhead laughed raggedly and tried to catch her breath. “I really like you, Zoe,” she gasped, “so I’m going to give you what you want. Both of you.” She tugged unexpectedly, sending Zoe stumbling to fall across the end of the couch.

Zoe froze at the touch of the slippery dildo between her tender buns. She’d never had anything except a fingertip or that fork handle there! “Noooo,” she protested, struggling.

“Yes,” insisted Mariah, who had all the advantages of position and leverage. She positioned the dildo against Zoe’s rosebud and began pushing. The rounded end slid in slowly, coated in Zoe’s own lubrication, one little soft rubber finger at a time.

Mariah looked sideways at Dean, who was breathing heavily through his mouth but making no move to interfere. Growing impatient, she reached beneath the junior and flicked a fingernail sharply against her clit.

Zoe squeaked and then grunted as two inches of the dildo suddenly disappeared into her tight back door. Mariah inexorably forced the remainder of the dildo into the screaming blonde until her own mound forced the mounting plate against Zoe’s reddened ass.

“Baby,” the redhead admonished her victim. “I know you’ll love this.” She touched something, and the dildo — no, vibrator — came to life. It began rotating and flexing inside Zoe’s colon, and powerful vibrations transmitted themselves from the little fingers to hundreds of points within her body. Zoe’s last scream transmorphed into a rising squeal of pleasureful surprise.

Mariah bit her lip as the fingers beneath the mounting pad transmitted equally strong sensations to the bare skin above her superheated cunt. Awkwardly spreading her legs, she wrapped her arms tightly around Zoe and rolled backwards.

Zoe’s squeal rose briefly higher and cut off with a gasp as the maneuver momentarily forced the vibrator slightly out of and then into her spasming chute. She realized she was lying on her back atop Mariah, on the couch.

In a second, Dean was on top of her, thrusting himself wildly into her eagerly welcoming pussy. Zoe began orgasming violently and repeatedly, every part of her body energized with vivid erotic sensations. Dean’s pounding forced her up and down on Mariah’s vibrator and his hot breath filled her mouth as they kissed. The hard points of Mariah’s nipples rubbed against her back, and the redhead was working both of Zoe’s nipples with dexterous and experienced fingers.

At some point later, Zoe knew she felt the others jerk spasmodically, finding their own release, but she had no notion of time. Mariah had either switched off the vibrator or its batteries were dead. The three lay in an exhausted heap for some time, still penetrating Zoe, and too tired to move.

Dean finally struggled free, disengaging with a wet plop as his softened and slimy dick pulled free from Zoe’s grasping pussy. “God, I need to pee,” he announced, looking for his pants.

“It is your turn, if I recall,” Mariah breathed from beside Zoe’s ear. “And I don’t believe Zoe has called the end of this game.”

Rebelliously, Zoe considered doing just that. But she was riding an endorphin high, and she remembered Dean’s delicious taste. Zoe parted her lips in an invitation he did not hesitate to accept. She licked her cream from his organ before concentrating on keeping up with the heavy flow of tasty urine that flooded her mouth. It flowed rapidly down her throat, warming her insides, as Mariah’s breath tickled the hairs behind her ear and a finger traced abstract designs in the sweat on her tummy.

“Mirror!” reminded Mariah, after Zoe had finished cleaning Dean’s cock.

“Oh come on, Mariah,” Zoe complained. “The game’s over.” She reached for Dean, who extended a helping hand to assist her in pulling free of the vibrator and standing up. The sensation from its withdrawal was reminiscent of pooping but distinctly different and more pleasureful. It left her ass feeling slightly greasy.

“It’s hardly fair to stop in the middle of a round,” Mariah said, tossing her hair as she stood up too.

Zoe looked down at the vibrator pointing at her. It was caked with her shit, especially closer to the head, as the fingers apparently did a good job of trapping the waste into which the vibrator had been rammed. “There is no way in hell I’m sucking on that,” she flatly stated.

Mariah had started loosening the straps. “It might grow on you,” she said off-handedly. “But the point is,” she continued as she stepped out of the harness, “that Dean wanted to pee, not have you blow him. So do I.” She set the equipment aside and waited.

It was fair, and Zoe remembered her fantasies. With conscious irony, she said, “I really like you, Mariah. So I’m going to give you what you want.” The blonde sat down on the couch. “C’m’ere; I’m too tired to do anything but sit.”

Mariah stood in front of her, giving Zoe a moment to examine the bare pussy that was so much like her own. The redhead’s labia protruded slightly more, she decided, but showed the two small rings on either side to good effect. She pressed her mouth to Mariah’s skin, licking and tasting the moisture, and couldn’t resist tweaking the other girl’s clit with her stud.

Zoe was pleased to feel Mariah jump slightly and exclaim, “I’ve got to have you do that again sometime soon! But not right now, please.”

The redhead started trickling, and Zoe homed in on it, opening her mouth as Mariah relaxed and a torrent of piss rushed at her. The technique was a little different and Zoe missed a few splashes, but soon her belly was warmer and fuller.

Mariah pulled her to her feet and kissed the errant droplets from her face and breasts.

“What about me?” Zoe wondered, as she realized that she too had a full bladder.

“Game’s over,” Mariah teased her with a smile. “But I’m thirsty and out of mixer. And I hear you’re a pro at filling glasses!” They all laughed.

Dean was only too happy to hand them to her, one at a time, and Zoe felt nothing but happiness as she stood naked in front of her boyfriend and one-time nemesis and three times filled a glass about half way with her warm urine. It had a dark golden color and a tantalizing smell.

“It seems a shame to dilute it,” Mariah said after inhaling deeply over her glass. “Then, ‘bottoms up,'” Dean suggested, raising his glass to toast them.

The threesome emptied their glasses in a single draught.

Zoe asked Mariah, “is it your turn now?”

Mariah smiled eagerly as she replied. “No, I think we’ll do a little freestyle. But maybe you can start by burying that cute little tongue of yours in my pussy while Dean regains his strength…”

It was much later that evening that Zoe’s lead finally developed, long after she had stopped worrying about it (or her curfew).

She was, again, hovering on the brink of orgasm. Perched on hands and knees above Mariah, Zoe rocked back and forth against Dean’s cock, which he was sawing in and out of her stuffed asshole with long, powerful strokes. Her breasts heaved in time with her rhythm, their sway enhanced by the weights that swung from clamps screwed to her aching nipples.

Mariah worked her entire hand in and out of Zoe’s stretched pussy in opposition to Dean’s strokes; the depth of her penetration was limited only by the angle of her wrist.

It was all painful, or had been at one time, but now all of it was wildly arousing stimulation that made her drip and want to cum in the worst way. Mariah had showed her that.

Zoe looked down again, mind floating in a haze, and poked at Mariah with the needle she held. It was so cool the way the other girl’s body jerked when the point went into the delicate skin of her pussy, but Mariah was soaking wet too.

Dean spasmed and went still, unloading his spunk into her ass in a continuous stream that burned inside her and soon overflowed onto Mariah’s face. Zoe took the moment to aim carefully and stab the needle into Mariah’s clit, amused at the swell of girl-juice and trembling it produced.

It took several moments more for her to realize Mariah was still shaking, even after the needle was removed. Literal froth was emerging from Mariah, and Zoe began to be concerned. She clambered aside and looked at the redhead, who looked like she was convulsing.

“…ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” Mariah moaned, nearly incoherently. “Can’t you smell it?” she asked brokenly, looking blankly through Zoe, before starting to shudder and pant again.

“I think she’s really sick,” Dean whispered in horror.

Zoe started looking around the room in panic, trying to restart her brain. “What do we do?”

Principal Edwards burst through the door, with the Spots bartender right on his heels. Zoe had let herself forget where she was. “It looks like anaphylactic shock — Hank, get an EpiPen!” The other man disappeared, and Edwards looked at them. “She’ll be okay, but you kids need to get out of here.” When they hesitated, he added, “now!”

Shocked, Zoe grabbed her ID, jacket and skirt from the pile on the floor, and pressed them against her chest, relieving the strain from the dangling weights. She scampered after Dean, who had only his pants. Holding the clothing in front of herself, in a sudden fit of modesty, she stood in the darkened and deserted main room and looked at Dean as Hank ran back into the event room.

“It’s lucky they got here so quickly,” Dean said with relief. “But how?”

Zoe felt her mind starting to re-engage as she fumbled one-handed with the nipple clamps. “Eyes are watching,” she whispered. “That’s what she was trying to tell us!” She looked about, instantly guessing the significance of the sliver of light around the ajar office door to the left. Zoe padded silently towards the door, shrugging on her jacket as she went.

Dean caught up with her, tucking away his still-rigid organ and fastening his pants, as Zoe peered through the door. Awed, they walked in and looked through the wall. Hank was kneeling next to Mariah, who was resting quietly, and Mr. Edwards was talking animatedly on his phone. Dean drew her attention to the monitors on their left; obviously there were hidden cameras present too.

Looking quickly about, Zoe noticed a leather CD case sitting on the corner of the office desk, underneath a folded section of newspaper. She picked it up and found it already unzipped. There were several discs in it, but they were all unlabeled. She zipped the case closed again and folded it inside her miniskirt, bundling it against herself inside her jacket.

“Zoe!” Dean hissed quietly, pointing when he had her attention. Mariah had been moved to the couch, and Hank looked like he was about to exit the room. They raced to the door and beat him by a comfortable margin.

“Hank,” Zoe asked, trying to disguise any lack of breath, “what’s wrong with Mariah? Can we see her?”

“She’ll be fine, Zoe,” he replied comfortingly. She was flattered he remembered her name, until she recalled he’d probably been watching her all night. “You and Dean should just go on home. If you left anything, just come by for it tomorrow, okay? Mariah’s resting and Mr. Edwards has called her mother to come and pick her up. Don’t worry about her. Now don’t trip on anything!” He steadily and unswervingly herded them out the door, which locked behind them.

“What time is it?” Zoe wondered. “My parents are going to kill me. And I need a shower.”

Dean smiled. “Your locker room, or mine?” In the end, it was neither; they skinny-dipped in the pool and shared a final aquatic fuck before dressing to go home.

Dean gave Zoe a chaste kiss good-night. He held his very dirty hands ostentatiously behind him so nothing would get on her zipped-up hoodie. “I really apologize, Mr. and Mrs. Ryan,” he repeated. “If only the spare hadn’t been flat too, I would have had Zoe home on time. I hope you won’t hold it against her.”

“No, these things happen, Dean,” Ken replied. “We’re happy that she’s home safe and sound. Drive safe, and get that other tire fixed!” He closed the door and Zoe bounced off to her bedroom. Husband and wife watched out the window until Dean drove away.

“I always knew she’d get that boy if she’d just be herself,” Becky beamed at Ken. “You don’t need to be a slut to get attention.”

“But it helps,” he retorted.

Zoe quietly locked her bedroom door and kicked off her flip-flops. She unzipped the hoodie and extracted the CD case, which she dropped on the bed. The hoodie and sweatpants were thrown in the closet, leaving Zoe clad only in a cotton bikini.

She padded to her bathroom to use the toilet. Zoe removed her underwear, noting the crotch of the panties was soiled. Squatting over the seat, she grunted and released streams of Dean’s semen from her cunt and ass. The teen collected a few stray leaks with her fingers and licked them clean while she peed, then sucked on her underwear until it was merely damp.

Zoe plopped on the bed and considered the CD case. It made the most sense for the discs to be DVDs, rather than CDs. She leaned over and turned on her TV, muted the sound, and hit the eject button on the integrated DVD player. Zoe dropped in the first disc from the case, hit “Play,” and leaned back to watch.

There was no menu; after a pause, “SoWet Productions Presents” appeared, followed a moment later by “Golden Schoolgirls.” The picture changed abruptly to footage of Mariah. She was dressed like a Catholic schoolgirl and looked into the camera, a picture of naive and conflicted innocence. She pressed her hands to her crotch and a rapidly growing dark spot appeared on the front of her plaid skirt.

Zoe hit the fast-forward button. The images skipped rapidly, but it was still possible for the blonde to recognize several of her classmates. She popped the disc and inserted the next one.

“Teen Ass Whores!” screamed the title. Zoe fast forwarded through it. The vignettes changed, but the cast was uniformly Hyde students, almost always including Mariah. She continued her review, skimming “Peeing for Pleasure,” “Perverted Pain Sluts” (that one even featured Paige, a surprise), and several other titles with interest, stroking herself as she watched.

The last disc was titled, “Slut Sisters,” and Zoe had to watch it at normal speed. It was footage of her first three-way with Mariah and Dean that evening, and it made her hot from the moment it started. Zoe stared at the screen, working herself urgently as she relived each moment, and brought herself off to a close-up of Dean’s cock surging in her mouth.

When it ended with Mariah and herself sharing their sticky French kiss, Zoe hit the power button and stared at the blank screen.

With these discs in hand, she had powerful leverage on TRAINCO. Zoe was confident she could shut Mr. Edwards down in a heartbeat. But her body felt empty and there was a craving in her tummy that left her mouth dry. She hadn’t expected it at all, but she had a true lover in Dean and a kindred spirit in Mariah. If she exposed this operation, would they be able to stay together, or would she have to give up the sensations she’d just been learning to enjoy?

Perhaps, Zoe wondered, there was a different way out of this? Mariah seemed to have been able to make things work out for her.

Her thoughts were disturbed by a faint bumping from her parents’ bedroom. Apparently they were having a good night, too. Zoe heard something like a faint “smack,” but it was barely distinguishable and she decided she’d imagined it. She fell asleep with a faint smile, surrounded by DVDs.

Zoe ditched Geography the next morning and headed straight for the Principal’s office. She was surprised, and suspicious, to meet Mariah just exiting it.

The redhead looked ethereal but dazed, giving Zoe the impression she was drifting in and out of contact with reality. One hand hovered distractedly at her breast, absently abusing the erect nipple, and a trickle of something ran down the inside of her leg.

Zoe’s thoughts were conflicted. Her breath caught at the frisson of excited memories and fantasies. She imaged slapping Mariah, making her feel pain, pissing on her; or was it the thought of how empty she felt, of how Mariah could fill her holes with her tongue, her fingers, a vibrator, or even her hand? She remembered watching herself in the video, looking as exciting and sexy as Mariah, making Dean — and every other guy and girl who saw her — cream themselves with the thought of having her. She moved closer.

“Can you smell it?” Mariah asked breathlessly. She seemed to be focusing more clearly on Zoe.

Smell what? Zoe wondered. For a second, she almost thought she did — something slightly reminiscent of honey; sweet, compelling.

The next statement came as a complete surprise. “I’ve got a coop internship with TRAINCO now — I get to work for them for the rest of the semester!” It was the last thing in the world Zoe had expected to hear.

“But what about us?” she asked.

With a smirk, Mariah responded, “there’s plenty of other girls and boys here to play with.”

“I’m not like that!” protested Zoe, reflexively.

“I think you are.” Mariah lifted the blonde’s skirt and groped her, finding Zoe’s bare cunt exposed and flowering open in juicy excitement. She pinched Zoe’s clit, and Zoe shuddered on the brink of orgasm, trapping Mariah’s hand with her own.

The pressure subsided. “Zoe, answer honestly. Do you want to go back to being the same girl that started this year?”

Zoe didn’t know how to answer. She was the same girl, right? The wallflower who dreamed of being beautiful and popular? But she’d done things she would never have done a few months ago, not always completely willingly. And had she not just been fantasizing about exactly those things? She thought again of the video, how hot they’d looked, how nearly identical… She opened her mouth to respond, and hesitated again, unsure what words might come.

A dismissive voice broke the silence. “I think not.” Judy Haskell was there, watching them, the door to Principal Edwards’ office open behind her. Red lines marred the top of her blouse, as if blood from cuts on her breasts had stained them.

Mariah leaned in and kissed Zoe, her tongue darting in to tease before she pulled away to join her mother.

Zoe realized her hand remained where it had been bracing Mariah’s, leaving her skirt awry and her sex exposed. Defiantly, she ran a finger slowly down her slit and transferred it to her mouth, maintaining eye contact with the older woman the entire time.

The corner of the older woman’s mouth ticked in what might have been the beginnings of a smile.

“Do you smell it, Mom?” asked a distracted Mariah.

The tick disappeared. “Let’s get you to the shuttle, honey.” Judy guided her daughter from the outer office and down the hallway.

Zoe collected herself and remembered what she was there for. If there was some part of herself that she’d given up, she couldn’t waste that sacrifice by stopping short now. She walked into the office and closed the door behind her.

Principal Edwards was sitting behind his desk; he gazed at her in silent inquiry.

Zoe read him the riot act. “You pervert! I know what you’re doing at Spots! Filming pornography, and distributing it! That is so illegal! Not only is it pornography, you’re doing it at a school! And it’s obscene, it’s filmed without knowledge or consent, it’s…” Her energy level wound down as Paul failed to react.

Paul disagreed calmly, ticking points off on his fingers. “It’s a totally independent side business that helps TRAINCO offset the costs of running the school. The courts have found it isn’t obscene. While it’s true TRAINCO operates both Hyde High and Spots, they are separate businesses at separate locations that just happen to be adjacent. We have documentation showing all of the actors are of age and consented to filming.”

“What?!” shouted an outraged Zoe.

“Don’t you remember that admissions paperwork you signed? Surely you read it?”

“Even if that’s true, what about our ages?”

Paul was smiling now. “But you’re all legal — I’d be shocked, simply shocked to find out anybody lied.”

Zoe sensed she was losing control of the argument. She probed in a different direction, guessing at connections. “You’re telling me you’re making these for profit, and you just sent Mariah off to some intern position? She’s been in more of them than everybody else put together.” Without thinking, she added, “and she’s hotter than everybody else in them put together.”

Strangely, Paul’s smile widened. “Well, perhaps. It’s true she is extremely popular with the viewers. And was — is — extremely enthusiastic. But there are other valuable services only she can perform for us. And there are other girls.” He leaned forward. “You, for example. You were very… intriguing… last night.”

Abruptly he stood, revealing he was not wearing trousers or underwear. A fascinated and repulsed Zoe could not resist studying his cock. It stood out horizontally from his groin, beet red, and was decorated with two bands of studs set into it below the head. A tight collar surrounding the root and scrotum held his balls away his body, and a few beads of blood dotted a welt that stretched most of the length of his organ.

“Take it as a complement. I am no longer easily intrigued.” He started around the desk towards her. Zoe scrambled for the door, but found it wouldn’t open. She started screaming, but he laughed and grabbed her.

Edwards kissed her and Zoe bit his lip, but it didn’t faze him at all. She tried scratching, but he was strong enough to control her wrists and march her back to his desk. He flung her across it, face down.

Fearing what was coming, Zoe lashed out with her feet. She landed a glancing blow once, hearing him grunt, but then he was between her thighs and she was effectively helpless. He pushed her skirt up over her back and chuckled, “of course,” when he found her bare.

“You have been an exceptionally unruly and tiresome student,” her observed, and lashed her behind with a short leather strap. Zoe screamed in pain and outrage, but he continued landing blows on her cheeks until Zoe was crying and certain the skin was being flayed from her body.

His hand unexpectedly probed her slit, and Zoe was suddenly humiliated as they both recognized her level of arousal. Edwards resumed the lashings, but worked his fingers in her pussy until he saw Zoe’s hips were pushing to meet his hand rather than flinching from the blows to her ass.

Without warning, both hands grabbed her waist and the principal thrust his penis into Zoe’s rosebud, mercilessly sheathing his entire length in her ass. Zoe shrieked in agony, a long hoarse howl that rasped at her throat, as the savage studs tore into her sensitive flesh and she experienced the worst pain of her life. The pain was so unbearable — so unbearably good. She orgasmed.

Apparently uncaring, Edwards withdrew his battering ram and plunged it all the way home again. He continued the cycle, picking up speed as Zoe’s shit and blood lubricated him and her sphincter gaped open.

Zoe gasped silently, unable to draw breath, as fire radiated out from her burning rectum, but her confused body could no longer distinguish the pain from pleasure and she came repeatedly. She lost control of her bladder and hot piss cascaded from her to rain on the floor.

Feeling his long-awaited climax approaching, Edwards sawed into the teen one last time. His penis pulsed, grudgingly, into her slick rear channel. After a moment, he began peeing. The piss enema began filling Zoe, but eventually began leaking out around the softening penis. The sting of the urine in her raw wounds provided her with one last small climax, but her body was drained of energy.

Still leaning into Zoe, Edwards picked up the phone on his desk and dialed an extension. “Shefali, I need you and a kit in my office, now. Pull Zoe Ryan’s file.”

The nurse arrived promptly, taking in the scene as she deposited her case on the guest chair and opened it. “Principal Edwards, I feel I must repeat to you that you cannot go around treating these girls like disposable toys.” She sounded resigned to the situation.

Paul finally stood up and pulled out of Zoe’s ass, releasing a surge of piss from her gaping hole. He started to walk around his desk, but Shefali stopped him and used a wipe to clean the worst of the shit, blood and slime from his penis.

Zoe just lay on the desktop, unmoving, and too enervated to react or even feel shame in the nurse’s presence. She saw Principal Edwards’ cock hanging in front of her; amazingly, urine was still running from it. Zoe thought she could almost smell the liquid, but knew she craved it. She opened her mouth and he inserted his penis. Zoe felt his studs clicking against hers as she closed her mouth and began nursing.

Shefali clucked her tongue as she began examining Zoe. “You have had a hard day today, Zoe. Just relax, keep drinking, and I will have you fixed up in no time.” Her soothing hands were spreading cool gel across Zoe’s butt, deadening pain but not sensation. More gel was spread across Zoe’s labia and clitoris, and dabbed gently around the edges of her ravaged anus.

“You certainly were very eager here, Principal Edwards.” The nurse sighed. “Did you even think to ascertain whether Zoe has had anal sex before, much less this kind, before proceeding with this?”

“Her boyfriend fucked her in the ass last night, and Mariah too, with a vibrator,” Paul confirmed. He picked up his water bottle and took a long drink, nearly emptying it.

Shefali poked delicately at Zoe again. “He was undecorated, I would think. Well, so.” She rummaged in her medical case. “This would be much more easily handled were you to plan it in advance.”

“Many things could be handled more easily in advance,” he said repressively.

“Zoe,” the nurse said, “I am afraid you have several scrapes and tears in your rectum. I can treat them, and it will not hurt, but I must insert a tool into you in order to do so. I do not want you to be startled or frightened. Do you understand me?”

Zoe nodded slightly, but kept swallowing the continuing flow of warm urine.

“Very good then; I will start,” Shefali warned her.

The teen felt something enter her ass, but it was thin and tickled more than anything else. A moment later, she felt soothing relief, which started from far up inside her intestine and then progressively flowed down to her anus. The pain was gone.

“That will have removed the pain, I think. Now I must treat you, which I remind you is not a thing of which you should be afraid.” There was a subtle spreading sensation and Shefali braced a hand against Zoe’s lower back as if she were pushing, but nothing else. The procedure repeated a few more times, leaving Zoe with a vague feeling of fullness in her ass.

“Principal Edwards, I think that is enough now. I need to talk briefly with Zoe, and she cannot answer intelligibly with you in her mouth.” Zoe was relieved, unsure of how much piss she had consumed; her stomach felt very full, although she enjoyed the feeling of warmth.

The Principal pulled himself free — still dribbling — and accepted a ring from Shefali, which he clipped around his penis, cutting off the flow. Zoe, looking sideways at the nurse, was stunned to see her hand and part of her forearm were glistening. Surely all of that hadn’t been in her ass?

Belatedly realizing she’d spent all of this time lying on the desk with her exposed privates facing the doorway, Zoe started to push herself up, but Shefali gestured for her to stay in place, and started wiping off her arm. “I am not quite yet done, Zoe, please relax and lie still. Now, I must repair a tear in your sphincter muscle which resulted from inadequate preparation on your part for penetration.” She aimed a severe look at Principal Edwards, who shrugged it off and started donning his slacks.

“This is the muscle which holds your anus closed when you are not eliminating, you understand? I must ask if you plan to continue engaging in anal intercourse or other activities that will result in the introduction of foreign objects into your rectum?”

It was embarrassing to say so, but Zoe certainly wanted Dean that way again. “Yes,” she rasped, finding her voice raw from screaming.

Shefali noticed her pain. “Ah, silly me. This I should have considered also.” She fished a small bottle out of her case and crouched in front of Zoe. “Open wide, please.” When the blonde complied, the nurse sprayed the bottle into her mouth for a second. Zoe’s throat felt instantly better and she smiled her gratitude.

“Now, your sphincter,” continued Shefali. “The tear I will mend, better than new, but you must guide me regarding the tightness, the strength, you would desire.” She recognized Zoe did not understand, and elaborated. “Some people like it very tight; like their partner to feel squeeeezed,” she drew out the word. However this limits the expansion of the muscle before you feel pain — you are not hurt mind you, but the sensation. Again, some people prefer this.” Zoe couldn’t imagine that was very common.

“Others, who wish to insert large or irregular objects frequently” — again, she glanced meaningfully at the Principal — “opt for a looser, more accommodating muscle. This results in a sensation closer to that of normal vaginal intercourse.”

“What about, well, pooping?” Zoe had to ask.

Shefali laughed. “Do not worry about that! I am not a maniac, to forget what is the primary purpose of your anus! I will not make it so tight you cannot eliminate, or so loose you must go about in diapers. Although, with a very loose muscle, you may be more prone to leakage if you experience diarrhea.”

That didn’t sound attractive at all, Zoe thought. “I think I’d like something in the middle, like a normal person.”

“I will do that,” the nurse promised. “Your boyfriend, his penis is of average size?”

“He’s pretty big,” Zoe said, as Edwards silently mouthed “implant” from behind her.

“Then I will see to it you both enjoy your body! Please lie still, now.” She walked back around the desk behind Zoe.

Zoe could hear her pulling on gloves, and then feel, vaguely, some cream or gel being spread around her crotch, from the top of her slit down past her anus and up the crack between her cheeks. Shefali was pushing and twisting her butt, but Zoe still couldn’t feel what was happening.

The nurse changed gloves again, humming lightly under her breath. Her fingers brushed Zoe’s clit, poking at it gently, and — thunk! — that sounded like the stud gun! Zoe wanted to move but Shefali’s fingers were still working around her delicate clitoris, and she was scared to jostle something at a bad moment. Shefali started wiping her all over again, but finally the moment came when she said, “I’m finished; you can sit up now, Zoe.”

The blonde rolled to her feet and immediately felt the fullness in her belly as she reached vertical. She pulled up her skirt to look at herself, and discovered the inside of it was soiled with blood and urine.

Shefali saw it too. “Not near my hard work, thank you very much! Please remove your clothes, Zoe; I am afraid they are ruined, and we do not need them getting you infected.”

The skirt was a goner, and the bottom of her blouse was soaked, which meant she had to remove her jacket, which turned out to have spots around the lower edges anyway. Zoe was left standing in her bra, feeling goose bumps as Principal Edwards eyed her.

“Aaah!” Shefali cried, “into the garbage with these! Principal Edwards, please make yourself useful and obtain a new set of clothing for this poor girl. Something with a shorter length would be useful for today, if it could be found.” To Zoe’s vast surprise, he went.

The nurse smiled and confided, “men are like wild animals. If you are firm and show no fear, they believe you must know what you are doing.” She held out a large cloth. “Here, clean yourself with this while I wipe down the desk.”

Zoe complied, but turned her attention back to her clit. She found a stud, matching the one in her tongue, piercing the hood of her clitoris. The lower ball actually brushed her clit, vibrating against it when she touched the stud. That felt nice, she decided.

“Now, there is just one more thing that I must do for you, Zoe,” Shefali said. “Do not make such a face at me — I am doing this for your own good.”

“What?” Zoe asked, grumpily.

“The medicine I have used on your rectum and anus is powerful and has no side-effects, but it is absorbed quickly into your bloodstream and filtered by your kidneys. You will excrete it in your urine over the next 12 hours, but it there is a chance it may damage your bladder if it is allowed to remain there for a significant period of time. Therefore, I will fit you with a catheter. This will allow your urine to drain away immediately, eliminating any possibility of harm. Also, it would not be a bad thing to drink large quantities of fluid, to provide extra flushing.”

“A catheter?” repeated Zoe. “I have to wear a bag for 12 hours?”

“Oh no,” Shefali reassured her. “You are a girl, and wear a skirt, and do not, I observe, wear undergarments. It is much more convenient to install a short tube and allow your urine just to fall to the ground. In fact, it is possible to forego the tube entirely, but many women may find it harder to direct their urine away from themselves.”

“If I have to do this, I want a tube.”

“Fine, have a seat on the desk, facing the chair. This won’t take a moment!”

Zoe complied, and Shefali settled herself in Principal Edwards’ chair, between her legs.

“First, I insert the tube,” she explained, deftly matching action to words. “You can remove it easily, by just pulling it out, you see. But do not attempt to reinsert it afterwards, because we do not want you getting a urinary infection, do we? Now, nothing is happening yet, you see?”

Zoe had wondered about that, and nodded.

“That is because, unlike a standard catheter, I have not gone up past the sphincter muscle. Instead, we use a proprietary medication to paralyze the muscle for the required time.” She brandished a syringe with a very long, very thin, flexible needle on it. Shefali expertly guided the point of the needle up the tube and out of sight. Zoe felt just the slightest twinge as the fluid was injected into her, and then the needle was removed, followed momentarily by a trickle of urine. “When the flow stops, you are done — remove the tube and discard it. Until then, it would be best if you give your body a chance to recover, and do not engage in intercourse.”

Zoe felt self-conscious as the yellow drops sprinkled onto the floor, and the rate of flow was increasing.

Shefali pushed back the chair and knelt, intercepting the steady stream rushing out of the tube with her opened mouth. After a minute, the flow had decreased to a tiny trickle and the nurse stood up. “There! Your muscle is asleep, and your bladder is emptied. I am done with you for today, Zoe! And I see Principal Edwards is here with some new clothing for you.”

The teen hopped down, spitefully dripping as much as she could on the office chair, and walked over to receive her uniform while maintaining what distance she could from the man.

“Shefali,” Zoe asked as she buttoned her blouse, “why is it that every time I see you for something, I end up with at least one thing more than I planned?”

The nurse laughed as she latched her case and lifted it. “I call it ‘customer service,’ Zoe. Have a good day. And good day to you, Principal Edwards.” She walked out of the office.

Zoe knew as soon as she lifted the skirt that it was a duplicate of her miniskirt from the previous evening, rather than a regulation uniform skirt. She looked at the Principal as she stepped into it, taking care to avoid leaking on it.

“Shefali said ‘something short,'” he explained. “That’s short and vaguely in keeping with the dress code. And you look damn good in it.”

“I’d look even better in heels,” she suggested.

“Don’t push your luck — you don’t have a medical excuse for those.”

Zoe was straightening her new jacket when he asked, “see you at Spots? With Mariah gone, we have a big hole to fill.”

The junior hadn’t forgiven him, and didn’t trust him. “Don’t count on it! I’m not your whore!” She stomped out of the office, past the waiting janitorial cart, wishing she was as certain as she sounded. Could the degradation and humiliation of the confrontation all have been for nothing? Every step Zoe took rubbed the stud against her clit, generating a pleasurable warmth and growing desire; and she was thirsty.

By the time the school day ended, Zoe was in a fey mood. She was keyed up and, thanks to Shefali’s prohibition, not in a position to do anything about it. Blowing Dean at lunch and draining him dry afterwards had been satisfying, but it did nothing to relieve the itchy craving she felt down below.

The blonde was also a bit bemused to discover she was a celebrity on campus. Her miniskirt attracted instant envious attention from the other girls; a surprising number of them also were fascinated by her catheter. It was one thing to show Paige, before swim; her friend had examined Zoe closely with wide eyes and reached out to stroke the stud with a finger, before asking if it had hurt. She’d looked disappointed when Zoe admitted the procedure had been painless. (She’d omitted everything except “temporary medical necessity” when explaining why the catheter was needed in the first place.)

It got worse during class, where she remained dressed and on display, folding towels while she tinkled beside the pool, while every other student in the class gawked at her. All of them apparently told all of their friends about her as soon as swim was over. After what felt like the millionth request to see or attempt to flip up her skirt, Zoe was reduced to brusque “no” or even “get your own” responses. Plenty of people got to see anyway, because she’d realized early on that she needed to pull her skirt up around her waist every time she sat down to avoid soaking it.

Judging by the unguarded feverish speculation Zoe overheard over locker banks between classes, when the speakers didn’t realize she was present, there wasn’t a soul on campus who didn’t know the key facts by mid-afternoon: Mariah, Zoe, and Dean had been together privately at Spots; Mariah was gone; Zoe had been in a long private interview with Principal Edwards; she’d been wearing her “Z-skirt” when it concluded. The accompanying speculations generally were either amusing or alarming.

Great, I even have a fashion named after me, she thought with annoyance. Can’t a girl just get laid in peace? It wasn’t like she was the only person getting some. In fact, Zoe sulked, she probably was the only person not getting some! She masturbated in chemistry, ignoring the other students, but her self-induced orgasm brought only minor relief. Just out of frustration she teased two of the boys into letting her milk them after class.

In yearbook, Ms. Petersen seemed transfixed by Zoe’s dripping urine. Her sentences were unusually disorganized and sometimes stopped in mid-thought. Every time Zoe looked at her, her teacher was gazing at her catheter tube. Finally Hannah just walked up to Zoe, firmly pressed her legs open, and began sucking gently on the tube like a straw.

This was too much even for the flighty Joanne, who had been leading a discussion about how to order the faculty pictures. Zoe’s initial suggestion that they just alphabetize by name had met with a frosty reception. “Do you have to, like, flaunt yourself so much? Some of us are, like, trying to do real work. I don’t know who woke up and, like, made you Principal Edwards’ new pet. But, like, this is a team effort, and if you, like, don’t want to be part of the team, well, like, screw you!” Hannah had to stand up and restore order to the classroom.

So now Zoe stood by the school entrance, watching the flow of uniformed students heading for buses or home, and nursed her temper while she waited for Dean. She derived some sardonic amusement from the hand printed sign taped to the door of the administration building: “NO Z-SKIRTS FOR SALE!!! They do not comply with school dress code policy!”

Dean met her with a quick embrace and a warm kiss. “Tough day, huh babe? Hey, I’m sorry again if I hurt you last night; I didn’t realize anything was wrong.”

“No, it’s not your fault; I enjoyed it too. I’m just a little… tender. Shefali says I’ll be good as new by tomorrow, and I can’t wait!” Zoe squeezed his hard cock in emphasis. The blonde hadn’t sorted it out in her mind, but she’d omitted all mention of her rape and blamed everything on her anal deflowering the previous night, and the new piercing.

“This isn’t a problem for you, is it?” she asked him as they began walking towards Spots.

“Not at all,” Dean assured her. “I want my shoes back too! And it’s never a problem to drive you home. You know I’d pick you up in the mornings too, if you wanted.”

“No, I like the bus,” Zoe demurred. “It — lets me keep an eye on things, I guess. But there’s no rush getting home today, like this.” She gestured at the yellow drops tinkling to the ground. “I’ll just tell Mom and Dad I’m sleeping over at Claudia’s or something.”

It took awhile to find somebody who would let them in, but eventually Zoe collected a bag with her missing clothes of the previous evening, including her prized shoes. There was another short delay while she relieved Dean’s full bladder, and then they were on their way.

“I’m sorry about your seat,” Zoe apologized, “I should have thought about this.” She was peeing steadily into the upholstery of the passenger’s seat and the aroma was pretty strong in the enclosed space.

Dean shrugged. “Nah, don’t worry. The way I figure, I’m indirectly responsible, too. Besides, the car’s a beater, and the smell reminds me of you. I kinda like it.”

Her mother’s car was already in the driveway, so Zoe headed straight next door and let herself in. She bounded up the stairs to Claudia’s bedroom, and discovered her friend was not alone.

Claudia was wearing a strap-on dildo and pounding into another girl lying on the edge of the bed with her feet in the air. Curious and a little jealous, Zoe moved for a better look and recognized Joanne! The cheerleader squeaked in surprise, muffled by a ball gag in her mouth.

“Oh, hi Zoe, I didn’t hear you come in,” Claudia greeted her. She withdrew a bit, letting Zoe see the black rubber cock. It looked much wider and longer than the tool Mariah had used on her. It slammed back into the cheerleader hard enough to make her tits jiggle. “What do you think?”

“I think Joanne thinks I’m not, like, a team player.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know you well enough. She is a fucking pain in the ass, but I have to admit the bitch is starting to grow on me. She’s still not fucking broken in yet,” Claudia admitted, as she lifted Joanne’s ankles a bit and shafted her a few more times in quick succession, quelling the other girl’s feeble attempts to free herself. Zoe noticed Joanne wasn’t using her hands for anything although they didn’t appear to be restrained in any way.

“Hey, grab that fucking butt plug, will you?” Zoe followed Claudia’s nod and saw it sitting on the nightstand next to an open jar of lubricant. She picked it up and pressed it into the jar to pick up a big dollop of jelly on the tip.

“May I?” asked Zoe. “I’d really love to show Joanne I can work on a team.”

Claudia pulled out and stood aside, still holding Joanne’s kicking ankles. Zoe took a moment to look at Joanne’s stretched cunt, comparing it unfavorably to Mariah’s or her own, and focused on the girl’s winking rosebud. She twisted the plug into it, creaming as she listened to Joanne’s muffled screams, until the narrowed base neared the ring of muscle and the cheerleader’s asshole sucked it in.

“Thanks,” Claudia said shortly as she lined up and started plowing the exposed cunt again.

“No problem. Uh, I was wondering if I could stay the night?” asked Zoe.

“Fucking bad timing,” commented Claudia. “Joanne and I were planning some quality time together. Can’t we do this another time?”

“It’s my catheter,” Zoe explained. “I can’t let me parents see me like this.” There was a puddle forming on the wood floor beneath her.

“Fuck. Look, there’s a package of Depends in the fucking closet. You can fucking have them, okay?”

What was Claudia doing with adult diapers? Zoe wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She collected the package; they looked bigger than her skirt.

“Quit stalling! You can fucking change at your house!”

That was Claudia. “Thanks,” Zoe said, and headed downstairs. She was a little pissed that Claudia didn’t have more time for her, and a lot turned on, and even more pissed she couldn’t do anything about it. She headed out the back door, figuring it would be easier to evade her mother’s glance, and nearly tripped over Paige.

Her friend was kneeling, totally naked, on the back porch with her hands clasped behind her neck and her chain swinging gently from her nipples; a small red heart pendant dangled from the center of the chain. From her position, she could see Zoe’s obvious state of arousal clearly.

“Were you and Claudia…?” Paige whispered with a look of betrayal on her face.

Zoe instantly realized who Paige must have been scheming to hook up with these last few months. How ironic to find the two sisters had again fixated on the same person. Well, Paige didn’t deserve to be kept in ignorance, and Claudia could clean up her own messes.

“No, Paige,” she said. “I just came to borrow some clothes.” She hefted the diaper bag, displaying a sheepish grin. “Claudia’s in her bedroom — go on up.”

Zoe was able to avoid any further encounters before reaching the safety of her own room. After kicking off her shoes, she stood in the tub and released the finger she’d held over the end of the tube to block any betraying spills, feeling like a guy as she aimed the brief stream towards the drain. She quickly proceeded to unzip and remove her skirt, withdrew her catheter tube, and then pulled on one of the diapers.

It felt bulky, although not uncomfortable, and wasn’t really too noticeable after she’d pulled a pair of sweatpants over it. Zoe exchanged her jacket and blouse for a sweatshirt and settled down to try and distract herself with homework before dinner.

Her reward for that dedication was a little free time to watch television with her parents after dinner. The shows were a bit dull, but it was surprisingly pleasant to engage in such a normal, routine activity. She might have stayed longer, but a whiff of urine made Zoe decide to cut the evening short.

Alone in her room, she stripped off her sweats but the diaper seemed to be doing okay. Zoe starting channel surfing, following up on a mental itch that had been bothering her. Whatever was going on at Hyde High, it just couldn’t be a simple porno operation. Aside from the dubious financial aspects, normal people just didn’t act that way. Zoe looked at the schools in the shows she hopped past — schools with superheroes, with rock stars, with vampires — and none of them looked anything like hers. Of course, maybe that was just playing to the censors, but there wasn’t any hint of the sort of activity that was common at Hyde. And it wasn’t just a few people hiding in a sea of normalcy; Zoe was reminded that nobody at Hyde seemed to be behaving like the sort of school kids she remembered from the previous year. Moreover, the faculty, including Principal Edwards, seemed just as affected. When had she lost sight of that?

Frustrated, she switched over to the DVD player and watched “Slut Sisters” again. Zoe was concerned about Shefali’s instructions so she settled for squeezing her thighs tightly together and wringing her nipples with her fingers. When had it become normal for her to have sex with boys? With girls? When had she decided that she not only would drink piss, but like it? It was ironic, really, that she, whose life had been impacted so profoundly by Amber’s innocent cell phone topless photo, was now watching a graphic video of herself engaged in a three-way! Zoe couldn’t resist sliding a hand into her diaper and tickling her needy clit until she jerked with release.

Feeling calmer, Zoe mused on the situation as she licked her fingers clean. How could she get to the bottom of what was going on? She certainly didn’t intend to let her rape at the hands of Principal Edwards be for nothing.

Something of that attitude was still with Zoe the next morning. As Shefali had promised, she woke with damp diapers but a moderately full bladder. It felt good to pee normally again, and even better to masturbate in the shower, working herself vigorously both front and back while fantasizing the warm spray covering her came from Dean.

It was with a feeling of contentment and control that Zoe realized, half-dressed, that she had no uniform skirt. One was downstairs in the bottom of the laundry hamper, and she’d lost the other yesterday. Screw it, she decided; if Principal Edwards wanted to make something of it, let him! The blonde pulled on the Z-skirt, admiring herself in the mirror, and decided it didn’t look as good on her without the heels, but that was a fight for another day.

Zoe realized she’d made an inspired choice by the time she made it to her locker before first period. In spite of the sign on the administration building, or perhaps because of it, the Z-skirt craze had spread. A surprisingly large number of girls had attempted personal modifications to their uniforms, and if some of the less successful attempts were turned away at the entrance, a number — including Zoe herself — were not. It was hard not to feel flattered.

She felt considerably more anxiety when she met Paige in the locker room before swim. Zoe hadn’t seen her since leaving Claudia’s yesterday, and it didn’t take a genius to guess that Paige couldn’t have been happy with what she’d found. Surprisingly, her friend seemed far more cheerful — in her usual offbeat fashion — than Zoe expected.

“Zoe, I just want to thank you for what you did yesterday,” started Paige, with an earnest look on her face. “I mean, I was mad to start with, but then I realized it was all for the best.”

It wasn’t hard for Zoe to look interested, and a little puzzled. “Oh?”

“Well, I went up to Claudia’s bedroom, like you said, and she was there fucking Joanne with this strap-on like there was no tomorrow. I guess you must have known she was there?” Zoe nodded, and Paige continued her story. “My spastic sister, can you believe it? At first I thought it was going to be just like with Kevin, but then Claudia called me over. I didn’t want to go, but I’d spent all this time setting up this D&S thing with Claudia, getting her to the right mindset and all, and it was Valentine’s Day, and I was standing there naked.”

“So I go over to them, and Claudia gets off the spazz, and tells me to eat her out! I wasn’t going to do it, but then she pushed me onto my knees and shoved my face into Joanne’s pussy. It smelled pretty good — you know? — and she said I’d better start licking.”

“I might have done it, but then that bitch started giggling! I pull back just a bit, and Claudia started whipping my butt with some strap or something. I don’t think she was pulling her blows much, either.” Paige turned slightly so Zoe could see the welts. “So I started licking her, and she was still giggling. I have never been so humiliated in my entire life!”

Paige paused, running one hand along the chain between her nipples, eyes unfocused. “The thing was, after a little bit, hypergirl wasn’t giggling and all of us were breathing kind of hard. I was thinking she was even going to cum, but then Claudia told me to stop. She took off the strap-on, and I thought she was going to make me eat her out, but no — she tells me, ‘Paige, I want to see your fist inside Joanne, right now!'” Paige’s eyes were focused on Zoe now. “You should have seen the look on Joanne’s face! I was juicing so bad I think I would have cum like a crazy girl if I could have touched myself!”

“So I bunch up my fingers like so,” Paige demonstrated, “and just slid them up inside her. She was so wet, and I guess that strap-on had opened her up a bit, it was like cutting warm butter. Even with that thing she had up her ass. What a slut!”

Zoe felt her pussy contract, squeezing moisture into her panties. She pushed them down, providing access for her fingers, and waited for her friend to continue.

“So then I start pumping her, and I’m really getting into it. It felt really good to pay her back for all the shit she’s done to me, but I can see the fucking slut is really getting into it too. I know it has to be hurting — my arm was really going into her — but it was like she didn’t care! And then Claudia sat right on her face, with her ass. I could hear the spazz start licking, and I know she was getting Claudia’s asshole, ’cause I could see it wasn’t her pussy.”

“Then Claudia just leaned back a bit more, and started pissing in my face. I swear we were all cumming so hard we couldn’t see straight. All I could think about was how good it felt to fuck over Joanne, and how good it must have made Claudia feel to be doing those things to both of us, and how much I was getting off on all of it.”

“It made me realize this is what I am — a piece of meat to be used by others. I don’t have to worry about hang-ups or inhibitions! Let people do what they want; I enjoy it.” With a shudder, she added, “I crave it. Let me thank you for showing me this, Zoe.”

She slid to her knees in front of Zoe and buried her face in the blonde’s sopping cunt, licking eagerly. Zoe released her bladder, emptying it into Paige’s hungry mouth, and then began riding the other girl’s tongue. It felt good, but Zoe knew she needed a cock.

The strangest part of the experience was after the end, when Paige was pulling on her bikini bottoms. “Zoe,” she asked, “are you wearing a new perfume?”

Lunch seemed like it would never come. Zoe forced herself to wait, knowing it wasn’t fair to Dean to fuck some other guy just because she couldn’t make it another few hours. She would have trotted across the cafeteria to their table, but it wouldn’t have been in keeping with her hard-won image.

When she caught sight of another girl nursing on Dean’s cock, Zoe’s first thought was rage. On reflection, however, Dean probably hadn’t instigated it, and Nikki was no Mariah — or Zoe. Like herself, Dean had needs; no harm there. But she was here now; Nikki could take a hike.

Kevin laughed from an adjacent table when Zoe walked up and pushed Nikki aside, causing a mouthful of Dean’s thick scum to spill on the other girl’s blouse. The blonde felt her bladder clench, but she was starting to become accustomed to the occasional loss of control, and didn’t hesitate to direct the stream of urine onto her vanquished rival. “Looks like you almost lost yourself a boyfriend, Slow-ee!” the senior taunted her, as Dean attempted to apologize.

“Don’t worry, I understand,” Zoe reassured her boyfriend. She squeezed his tool tightly, and then began fondling his balls roughly, loving the way they bulged in his smooth tight sack, and delighted to see him leaking again already. She spared a mean look for Kevin. “Lost boyfriends? You should talk, Kevin — I know where Joanne’s getting it from, and it isn’t you!”

Enraged, Kevin leaped to his feet, knocking Jana on her butt. “Bitch! I’ll show you what she’s getting!”

Zoe eyed his hard meat. Okay, so he had the largest cock on campus, but he really wasn’t that much bigger than Dean. Just the same, she really did need a shafting, and she didn’t want to waste any of Dean’s juice. “Give it your best shot, but don’t bother me too much — I’m busy.” She swallowed Dean, tasting a trace of his yummy piss before focusing on milking him to orgasm.

Kevin was energetic, and his slaps warmed her ass, but really Zoe thought he wasn’t enough. She needed to reach between her legs and flick the stud above her clit repeatedly as he pumped her from behind. Just not enough, she mused later — it was no wonder Joanne had moved on to Claudia’s strap-on.

March

For a change, Zoe was at their table before Dean. She picked up her sandwich and then put it down on the table again, still untouched. She hadn’t eaten much for breakfast the last few days either; the blonde had felt almost nauseous on the ride in that morning.

Finally he arrived, penis already out and dripping. “Hey, babe, I’ve been saving something for you!” Zoe drained his bladder, but couldn’t work him to an orgasm afterwards. It was something they’d observed with other couples on campus, but Zoe hadn’t anticipated encountering it with Dean — especially when he was always so hard for her.

The emptiness inside her wouldn’t let Zoe leave him alone, and finally Dean stopped her. “Let’s visit the library,” he suggested meaningfully, and she was happy to oblige. Once inside a study room, they shucked their clothing and Zoe studied his rigid penis. She reached to clean the mixture of precum and piss leaking slowly from the tip, but he drew her attention to his hand.

“Kevin gave me this,” Dean offered bashfully, proffering something that looked like several pipe cleaners twisted into a circle. Zoe picked it up and saw that it was very stiff, and the points of the bristles prickled her hand.

Together they started working it down the length of his penis. It was difficult at first, and left angry scratches and dots of blood behind it, but by the time it reached his root, Dean was rampantly erect, harder than he had been in weeks. Zoe wasted no time in lying back, spreading herself in invitation.

Dean’s throbbing tool made her feel almost full as he slammed into her repeatedly, but it was the scrumptious sensation of the ring’s bristles jabbing her repeatedly at the end of each thrust that left Zoe orgasming repeatedly before Dean spent himself inside her molten core. Her bare mound was slightly bloody when they pulled apart.

Zoe thought it was sweet of Dean to look so concerned, although she thought he looked as bad as she did. “Don’t worry, babe,” she assured him, “I deal with worse than this every month.” She felt a moment of paralyzing fear as the words left her mouth; her last period had been in January.

Covering her concern, Zoe helped Dean remove the ring and cleaned him carefully with her mouth, delighting again in his taste and enjoying the small serving of urine he saved “for dessert.” They dressed quickly and parted with smiles, but as soon as he was out of sight, Zoe altered course towards the nurse’s office.

She berated herself with every step she took, worrying about the missed period and her uncertain appetite. How, Zoe wondered, could she have failed her parents so woefully? She thought of the advice they’d offered and the condoms, still untouched and useless in her dresser. She wasn’t ready to be a mother. How could she have ruined her life with such a stupid mistake?

“Shefali?” Zoe asked, after knocking and peering in the door.

“Is that Zoe Ryan I hear?” The nurse poked her head out of the exam room. “So it is! Please come in; I am very pleased to see you again, Zoe. How may I assist you this afternoon?”

Glumly, Zoe sank into the guest chair and burst into tears as soon as Shefali closed the door. “Oh God, I’m pregnant!”

It didn’t help Zoe’s emotional outlook to see the nurse’s habitual cheer slip momentarily, but Shefali covered her surprise quickly. “Pregnant? Why, Zoe, you sound so positive. What makes you think this might be true?”

“I haven’t had my period in over a month,” Zoe cried, “and I have morning sickness! I’m too young to be a mother, and I don’t even know for sure who the father is! My parents are going to kill me!”

“Ssssh, Zoe,” Shefali soothed her, “you are much too young to be planning the end of your life so soon. First, let us conduct a test, and learn the truth of your situation before you fret so much about it, yes?” The nurse led Zoe into the exam room, and extracted a box from the supply cabinet. “Now, you know how to use these, do you not?”

Snuffling a bit, Zoe regained some of her composure. “Sure. You just pee on it, right?”

“Yes,” agreed the nurse, tearing open the box and handing the wand to Zoe, “there you have it. After a short wait, we will know whether you are right to worry so much.”

Without even thinking about it, Zoe flipped up her Z-skirt and aimed a stream of urine onto the tester.

“Zoe!” exclaimed Shefali, more upset than she’d been when Zoe arrived, “what you have been doing to yourself? This blood is yours?”

“Some,” Zoe admitted. “It’s not very bad.”

Shefali sniffed, “we will let me be the judge of that, shall we? Let us get you cleaned up.”

“No!” objected the blonde, so vigorously that the nurse was taken momentarily aback. “Look, Shefali, I just want to find out whether I’m pregnant or not before I get distracted, okay?”

“Very well, Zoe, please do not excite yourself unduly. You have survived this long; I believe you will last a few minutes more without attention. I will update your record while we wait.”

It felt more like a few stomach-churning hours to Zoe, but eventually the tester rewarded her with a negative result and she felt she could begin breathing again. “How did you know I wasn’t pregnant?” she asked Shefali suspiciously.

“Oh, Zoe,” Shefali laughed with a dismissive wave, “I did not know anything — I merely suspected. Let us say, you did not have the appearance of pregnancy to me. As for the knowing, that is why we run tests, yes?” She shooed Zoe towards the examination table. “Now you will humor me and allow me to tend to you, yes?”

“Yeah, okay,” sighed Zoe repressively. She pulled her skirt up around her waist and hopped onto the table. Shefali wiped carefully around Zoe’s pubic area with a pad slicked with blue gel, removing the blood and leaving the girl’s bare skin tingling.

“You have been enjoying yourself, Zoe, yes?” the nurse asked, brushing the pad from the stud down the length of Zoe’s slit and back to her anus.

“Oh pretty much,” Zoe admitted with a smile that suggested she was understating her answer. She thought about it a moment before adding, “but, could you give me a contraceptive? I don’t want to go through this again.”

“That is a simple enough request. But,” Shefali probed, “there is nothing else? I recognize these marks, Zoe; have you changed your mind about how you like to be stimulated?”

“No, no, that was for Dean. He, um, has trouble cumming recently.” Zoe felt a little uncomfortable sharing that, but as usual the nurse’s cheerful and comforting demeanor encouraged confidences. “I still like it the normal way” — that was mostly true — “but… sometimes I feel empty down there, like he isn’t big enough.” She paused, trying to frame her question. “Can you do something about that, like you talked about fixing my ass?”

“You should ask Dean to stop by and visit me sometime; perhaps I could assist him.” Shefali considered her seriously for a moment. “Your request is not quite the same, Zoe. Instead of working with just a single muscle, we would need to try and tighten up much more of you inside. We can address this, but I am not so confident in your satisfaction with the results — you may not feel any difference at all.”

Zoe didn’t need to think very long. “I want to try.” Any improvement would be welcome.

“That’s the spirit!” Shefali smiled. “I think you will wish to remove your clothing so that we may be sure it will not be soiled.” It seemed a bit excessive, but it wasn’t the first time Shefali had seen her naked — and there wasn’t that much clothing for Zoe to remove.

The teen watched as the nurse retrieved two gigantic plastic tubes about two or three inches in diameter and a foot long. Shefali affixed a spherical cap to one end of each tube, and then proceeded to pack both of the tubes full of red gel. “A ‘propriety formula?’ ” teased Zoe.

“Precisely,” agreed the nurse, coating the outsides of the tubes with the same gel. It became clear as she did this that the outsides of the tubes were very rough and uneven. “Now, Zoe, I will need you to spread your legs and relax. This unavoidably may feel a little painful, but I feel confident you are up to the challenge.”

Mesmerized, Zoe spread as directed and felt Shefali start to work the first tube into her pussy. The initial stretching was not bad, and even exciting. The roughness of the tube scraped its way inside her, stretching her and pushing deeper, and Zoe was panting by the time Shefali had it inserted fully. She proceeded to repeat the process, slowly seating the second tube into Zoe’s painfully stretched ass.

Zoe felt great, finally filled up for the first time in recent memory. She reached for her clit, but Shefali calmly batted her hand aside with a mild reprimand. The nurse attached a plunger to each tube, and then slowly pushed them home, extracting the tubes while leaving their payload deep inside the teenager.

To the blonde’s surprise, Shefali recapped and refilled the tubes. They were inserted again; this time, Zoe was much better lubricated, but — already filled — it was much more painful and she was cramping by the time the nurse had them in place. When the plungers went home, Zoe could feel goo oozing out of her cunt and ass, and more than half-expected it to come out her nose and mouth too. “Wow,” she gasped.

“Wow, indeed,” smiled Shefali, setting aside the tubes and discarding her gloves. She glanced at her pad, and extracted some white underwear from a drawer in the supply cabinet. “Here, Zoe, please don these; they should be your size.”

Zoe obediently pulled on the high-cut nylon bikinis until they were snug against her slicked crotch. She couldn’t remember exactly when she’d decided to stop wearing underwear, but it had been awhile — it was always just getting in the way and people like Paige were around to deal with any spills or drips.

The nurse finished updating her notes. “Very good. With this conditioner, you will not have to worry about getting pregnant for at least six months, and it should help address your other concerns too — but you will have to wait to know how effective it will be. It’s very important, Zoe, for you to leave the compound undisturbed until it is completely absorbed — overnight should be sufficient. Until then, no intercourse, no showers, no bathing or swimming. Particularly keep Dean or other boys out of there; this isn’t good for them. It would be easiest just to leave your panties on until tomorrow morning — you should not need to pee or make a bowel movement before that time. Any questions?”

“No.” Zoe shook her head, disappointed to have to wait so long, but greatly relieved to have the threat of unwanted pregnancy removed.

Shefali smiled brightly. “Excellent! Then I think you deserve a reward for being a good patient.” She produced a butterfly vibrator, which she pressed against Zoe’s panties and activated.

The teen’s lips formed an “O” of astonishment as her she buckled back onto the examination table. The gel was transmitting the vibrations to her clit and up the length of both passages; it felt like thousands of vibrators were thrilling every millimeter of her insides. The sensation carried her right to the edge of orgasm, but she couldn’t cross over. Zoe pressed the vibrator harder against herself, trapping Shefali’s hand, but the need ratcheted higher without relief.

A stabbing pain in her nipple released Zoe’s climax. Before she could draw a breath, Shefali moved her tool to the other nipple and pierced it too, triggering an even more intense orgasm. The nurse removed her hand from Zoe’s now-nerveless grip and, using both hands, quickly screwed the missing stud onto the post piercing each nipple. She dabbed a bit of blue gel onto the swollen nipples, noting the way Zoe jerked under her touch, and then twisted the studs as if the teen’s nipples were faucets.

Zoe seemed to levitate off the table, her back arched, as she climaxed explosively under Shefali’s deft ministrations. The orgasm left her panting heavily as if she’d just finished running a marathon, and it was a minute or more before her eyes could focus enough to examine her aching breasts. Sure enough, each of the turgid nipples was transfixed horizontally by a small barbell matching the ones she wore in her tongue and above her clit. She felt parched, and chugged the cup Shefali handed her without paying attention to what it was.

The blonde floated along, not quite listening to Shefali talking to her about diet and weight maintenance, and languorously pulled on her clothes. Her nipples were far more sensitive than they had been, Zoe realized, as she fastened her blouse and felt the way the fabric pressed against her and rubbed their tips.

The lecture ended abruptly when Jana entered the waiting room from the hallway. The cheerleader’s face and blouse were wet and spattered, and a stream of urine was dripping from her crotch. “Ms. Patel, I can’t stop peeing — can you help me?”

Shefali looked a quick inquiry at Zoe, and then smiled at the newcomer, beckoning her into the examination room. “Certainly, young lady! Please come in and I will have you fixed up in no time!” She pulled the top layer of paper off the examination table and wadded it into the trash while Zoe picked up her jacket and made her exit.

As the two teens passed each other, Jana hesitated and asked Zoe, “OMG! What perfume are you wearing? It’s, like, totally awesome!”

The crumpling of paper behind her paused for a moment before restarting. Zoe, shrugging on her jacket, could smell only the tantalizing aroma of urine surrounding Jana. “Thanks, but I’m not wearing anything. Maybe you just smell some of the medicine.” She was a little unnerved to see Jana taking any overt favorable notice of her.

“Zoe, can you please close the door on your way out?” Shefali asked. “Now, please seat yourself here and allow me to scan your identification…” the nurse continued, before Zoe complied with her request and the door closed on the conversation within.

Zoe stopped by her locker to pick up her notes for yearbook. She had to edge around the gathering of girls nearby; Paige lay on the floor naked, surrounded by what looked like the entire cheer squad with the exception of Jana.

The junior was moaning and shaking with arousal as her sister fucked her roughly with a baseball bat. The other girls jostled for position and giggled as they inserted straight pins into Paige’s tits and tugged on her nipple chain. Zoe noticed a relay baton jutting from Joanne’s ass, lifting the hem of her Z-skirt, and wondered how — or if — she explained that to her friends.

Yearbook was predictably quiet, with many of the students (including Joanne) no-shows. There wasn’t much to do until the proof prints came back, anyway. Zoe doodled in her notebook, thinking about Dean and the progression of their relationship. She thought again about the advisability of pushing her investigation into TRAINCO, but it had remained stalled since Valentine’s Day.

Zoe had stayed away from Spots, partially from a desire to spite Principal Edwards and partially because she didn’t completely trust herself to remain in control if she stepped again into that back room. She’d been frustrated in several attempts to contact Mariah; her last resort, a traditional “snail mail” note, had received no response. As a result, she had no good leads to follow, and a sense that making waves could jeopardize the comfortable existence she’d established.

With a sigh, Zoe realized she’d drawn a large penis across the page, decorated with veins, with a scattering of stylized drops jetting from it. She tore the page out of her book and crumpled it into a ball.

Zoe’s comfortable existence was thoroughly disrupted the next morning. It started on the ride in, when Claudia told her she’d learned from Joanne that Paige had gotten a TRAINCO internship! The blonde was a bit miffed at the news; it was true Paige was a pretty sharp student, and certainly had a laser-like focus on topics that attracted her attention, but surely Zoe was more deserving of such a reward — look at the work she’d done for the newsletter! It also hurt that Paige hadn’t said anything about it, although Claudia made it sound like there hadn’t been much advance notice.

The real bombshell, so to speak, came when they arrived at school and discovered everybody was expected at a mandatory assembly during first period. Rumors raced through the bleachers as the students gathered. Before Principal Edwards stepped to the microphone, Zoe knew that Jana and her parents were dead.

Apparently, as Mr. Edwards explained to the amazingly quiet and attentive audience, they had been caught by a freak gas explosion the previous day. TRAINCO’s sympathies were with the families and friends affected by the shocking tragedy.

Dean leaned over to whisper to Zoe so that Claudia could hear too. “I think I heard about this from Dad last night — he said it was a building at a medical office park, not a home. I didn’t realize anybody from school was there. I think there were a bunch of people injured too.”

Zoe’s mind flashed to the image of Jana entering Shefali’s office the previous afternoon. “Do you think she might have been going to the doctor, for some reason?”

Claudia nudged her to pay attention as Principal Edwards concluded his remarks.

“TRAINCO takes your loss very seriously, and owes all of you its best efforts to help all of you come to terms with this terrible tragedy in the healthiest and least stressful manner possible. Accordingly, we are cancelling classes for the rest of the day so that all students can attend mandatory private grief counseling sessions. These will be held in the 100 building and are scheduled alphabetically by last name.”

“Fuck me,” Claudia hissed in amazement. “I think I can handle my own ‘grief management’ at home, assuming I felt anything about that fucking bitch. I feel bad about her parents, I mean, nothing personal.”

They exited the gymnasium into a sea of confused students. The gates were closed, and suddenly Hyde High felt a lot like a prison to Zoe. “Dean,” she asked urgently, focusing on her earlier thought, “do you know the address of this office park, or its name, or anything?”

“Not really,” he admitted to her. “I think it was over on Springfield Road, on the other side of the water tower.”

“Can we find out if Jana’s doctor really had her office there?” Zoe wanted to know.

“I can try asking Joanne,” offered Claudia. “You know she and Jana were pretty close. But what’s the fucking point?”

“I saw Jana going into the nurse’s office yesterday,” Zoe explained. She glanced about and lowered her voice to a whisper. “What if the explosion wasn’t an accident?”

Both of Zoe’s friends looked dubious. “Fuck, Zoe,” Claudia exclaimed, “where do you come up with this shit? Why would anybody care if Jana visited her fucking doctor?”

“Maybe TRAINCO wanted to hide something.” It frustrated Zoe that she couldn’t express why she felt so clearly she’d jumped to the correct conclusion. “You know our medical records are protected so even our parents can’t see them, right? Do either of you know anybody here who’s been to an outside doctor since school started this year?”

Dean, at least, seemed to be intrigued. “Nope. It still sounds pretty thin, Zoe, but I give you credit for good instincts. Look, Claudia, can you at least ask Joanne? If it turns out there’s nothing to it, at least we can stop worrying about it.”

The brunette shrugged. “Sure, what the fuck. I’ll catch up with you after I talk to her.” Claudia moved off into the crowd.

The rest of the morning was hard on Zoe’s nerves. Her suspicions were further fueled when it became clear the students were being segregated, so that those emerging from the counseling sessions were escorted off the campus before they could have any contact with their friends who were still waiting for their turns. After Dean was called, the delay between “Killian” and “Ryan” seemed to take forever.

It was mid-afternoon before Zoe was shown into a classroom, her father’s stories about an old IRS audit firmly in mind. The room was unoccupied with the exception of an unremarkable middle-aged woman sitting in front of a laptop at the teacher’s desk. A chair, obviously meant for Zoe, sat in front of the desk.

Zoe sat in the chair, knees primly together, on her very best behavior. The “counseling” session started like an interview, but felt at times like a cross-examination as it progressed.

The counselor, Ms. Parker — “but you can call me Deirdre” — started by requesting and inspecting Zoe’s identification card. It developed that Deirdre had an open, companionable manner that invited confidences; however, unlike Shefali, who possessed charisma to match, Deirdre reminded Zoe rather more of Principal Edwards, and nearly everything the woman said put her hackles up. The only thing Zoe found pleasant about her was her perfume.

They worked through leading questions about how Zoe knew Jana, what she most remembered about Jana, how she felt about the news of Jana’s death, what she enjoyed about Hyde, what interactions Zoe had with the other students, and on and on, and on. Zoe maintained her somewhat vacuous smile and earnest demeanor, spooling out commentary that, while true, was edited heavily enough it would have found favor at a church social.

Zoe thought she surprised a look of concealed frustration on Deirdre’s face more than once, but if she chose to recall that Jana was a dedicated student body president and liked to sing karaoke rather than mentioning she also was a piss-swilling cumslut, what could the woman say? And technically, since all of the girls at Hyde appeared to be piss-swilling cumsluts, it was entirely truthful to tell Deirdre she hadn’t noticed anything unusual about Jana.

She was having enough fun that Zoe couldn’t resist “slipping” and dropping a hint of some impropriety on Jana’s part. She beat around the bush, watching Deirdre become increasingly restive and excited, and finally revealed the scandalous suspicion that Jana was stealing her best friend’s boyfriend!

“I suppose you think you’re being funny, Miss Ryan,” the other woman glared at her, and Zoe belatedly worried she might have pushed Deirdre too far. “Perhaps it would interest you to know that while you apparently are worrying about who is kissing whom, your classmates have described numerous dubious activities on your part, including a sexual encounter between yourself and an entire boy’s P.E. section, and that you have been referred to as, quote, ‘the biggest slut on campus,’ unquote?”

“That’s a lie!” cried Zoe, stung by the accusation. She almost blurted out corrections, but remembered in time to bite her tongue. “You know,” she went on a little more calmly, “how teenage girls are. Anybody they don’t like is ‘a slut.’ I can’t help it that I’m new this year and some of the other girls pick on me.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Deirdre wasn’t quite disagreeing with her. “Perhaps you would care to comment on your ‘Z-skirt’ or the smell permeating this room?”

What? Zoe’s nose twitched involuntarily. It was perfume, wasn’t it? “My skirt? Everybody wears them. I know it’s short, but they wouldn’t let me in if it wasn’t okay, would they?” She sniffed ostentatiously, “and I don’t smell anything.”

Obviously annoyed, Deirdre conceded defeat and ended the interview. “You can talk to me or any faculty member about this at any time,” she prodded Zoe a final time.

“Thanks, I feel so much better now that we’ve talked,” Zoe snapped, hurrying for the exit. She suffered the silent escort to the school entrance, and then ran to embrace Dean when she saw him waiting for her on the sidewalk outside.

“Come on; I’ll take you home,” he offered after they came up for air. “Claudia already took off — she couldn’t talk to Joanne before she had to go in, but she promised she’d try again later.”

“That wasn’t counseling — it was an interrogation,” complained Zoe as they walked to his car. “This lady I talked to really creeped me out.”

“Well, I don’t know about her,” Dean answered, “but the guy I had asked a hell of a lot of questions that didn’t have anything to do with Jana. I couldn’t even figure out where he came up with some of them! I played dumb, so I’m pretty sure he didn’t learn anything from me.”

“And get this,” he added, turning a concerned look on Zoe. “They ‘offered’ internships to at least a couple more students right after their counseling — all girls. They just took ’em right onto a bus afterwards! I was scared shitless you were going to go too, Zoe!”

“Who?” Zoe wanted to know. “Do you know why?”

“Here’s a list, we think.” He offered her a page torn out of a spiral notebook. The first few lines were in Claudia’s handwriting, the remainder with Dean’s scrawl. “I asked Dave to watch the last part of the alphabet,” he added when she looked up again.

“What’s the connection?” Zoe asked rhetorically, looking at the list again once she was sitting in the car. The ten names belonged to juniors or seniors, all girls, but otherwise had no obvious relationship to each other. “This is not right,” she repeated, voicing her intuition.

“Did they ask you anything about smells?” wondered Zoe, prompted by the faint scent of her urine.

“Not that I recall; why?”

“I wish I knew,” Zoe admitted. “It was just one question, at the very end, but it was the weirdest part of the whole thing.” She realized her throat was parched and her pussy was soaking. “I need you, now,” she admitted. “I can’t think straight.”

“God, babe, I thought you’d never ask,” responded Dean. “I’m about to explode!”

She leaned over and was sucking on his hard cock in no time, the spicy warm urine draining down her throat. It felt so normal, although it was the first time she’d done this in the car — let alone when Dean was attempting to drive — but it tasted better than ever. Zoe chalked it up to her nervous tension and a day of enforced chastity. Wanting more, she mauled her breasts through her blouse, twisting the studs to send jolts of electricity right through her body, from her nipples to her clit. It felt molten, pressing against the stud piercing her.

Dean made it to her house without crashing, and thankfully the driveway was empty when he pulled into it. Zoe dragged him through the front door and slammed it behind them. Unwilling to spend the time moving to her bedroom, she turned and pulled Dean’s pants to his ankles. He was ready, cock ring already in hand. Together they worked it quickly down the length of this shaft, leaving streaks of blood glistening along its tumescent length.

Equally eager, Zoe lay back on the floor and pulled Dean into her. Her cunt was tight, resisting him more than either of them could recall, but Dean didn’t hesitate. He pressed forward until he was buried within Zoe and the thistles of the ring pricked her sensitive flesh. She jerked and squeezed him even more tightly. Dean began working in and out of her, thrusting hard at the end of each stroke to crush the cock ring between their two bodies.

Both of them could feel the explosion coming, but it still wasn’t enough for Zoe. She peed, her urine spraying on both of them and igniting the raw wounds left by the cock ring. Dean’s cock started to jerk as Zoe cried, “my ass! I want it in my ass!”

He pulled out, trailing a thick rope of semen, and positioned himself at her winking rosebud. It was tight too, resisting more than in the past. A spurt of cum hit it, and Dean drove his weight forward, ripping into her and seating himself all the way to the cock ring in a single violent stroke.

Zoe screamed incoherently as she shuddered into her orgasm, piss continuing to stream from her bladder. Another jet of spunk coated the inside of her rectum, and a warm stream she knew was Dean’s piss began flowing into her body, prolonging her climax. The blonde felt warm inside, almost burning, but it was the best feeling she’d ever had.

A few minutes later, the pair reluctantly disengaged. Dean’s cock, still rigid and gleaming with fluid, jutted above his tight sack and he looked a little frustrated. Zoe, in contrast, felt wonderful and energized. A little cautious wiping didn’t reveal any damage. She took Dean in her mouth and cleaned him tenderly. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” she assured him after she finished.

Dean’s organ looked harder than ever, although the color was a bit washed-out. “Isn’t it supposed to be bad to have an erection for a really long time?” asked Zoe, as they watched a trickle of urine run down its length to his bulging balls.

“Yeah,” he answered uncertainly. “I’ve been taking something for it, but it doesn’t really seem to be working. It’s starting to drive me crazy. I like cumming and all — especially inside of you,” Dean added with an admiring look, “but it doesn’t seem to, um, end things like it used to. And I’m peeing almost constantly. Thank God for you; I can’t even use the toilet at home any more — I can’t aim low enough. Last night, Mom almost caught me peeing in the shower!”

Struck by inspiration, Zoe fished an old rubber band out of the bowl by the door and wrapped it a few times around his head to cut off the flow. “Sort of a trick I picked up,” she explained. “But I think you should get yourself looked at. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Looked at, where?” Dean wondered doubtfully. “Just on the off chance that anything you’re thinking is right, it seems like a doctor is the last person I’d want to visit right now. That leaves the school — do you trust the nurse? She’s who I talked to before.”

“Shefali?” Zoe considered the question. “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I always seem to end up with more than what I thought I wanted” — she touched the studs in her nipples and bare sex — “but she’s always taken good care of me when I needed contraception and stuff.” Even at this point she wasn’t ready to share anything about her rape or pregnancy scare.

“Wait, you’re on birth control?” Dean asked incredulously. “I didn’t know that! I went to Shefali for that too!”

Zoe didn’t know what to think. Had she been upset over nothing? “You did? But you never wear a condom…”

“No, she gave me an implant.” Dean pointed at his hairless scrotum. “It’s like a temporary vasectomy. I didn’t want you to have to worry, Zoe, but I didn’t want to pressure you so I didn’t say anything.” He sheepishly added, “and then we got carried away and I guess I just forgot.”

“Dean, that’s so sweet!” Zoe hugged him close and kissed him, this time driven by love instead of lust. Still, she couldn’t resist kneeling in front of him again, this time fondling and examining his package closely. There was no trace of any disturbance, but she already knew Shefali did good work.

“I’m worried maybe something is wrong with the implant,” she said finally. “Everything looks okay, but I know you weren’t this big before.” Zoe wrapped both hands around his organ, which extended well beyond them. She couldn’t resist giving the tip a quick kiss. “And I think your balls are bigger, too.” An attempt to flex his steel-hard shaft met with complete failure, and a squeeze of his balls elicited no response beyond an upward surge of his rampant sex. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“No,” Dean assured her, “it aches a bit most of the time, but you aren’t hurting me. But if you don’t stop, I’m gonna have to use it on you again, and you know your mom would freak if she walked in on us.” He tried to organize his thoughts while regretfully pulling on his pants.

Zoe padded off to the laundry, stripped off her wet clothes, and started a permapress cycle. Luckily everything really was wash-and-wear — this wasn’t the first time she’d messed up her uniform jacket. She grabbed the mop — interestingly, it was damp already — and padded back to the living room, now naked.

“I’d kill for maid service like this,” Dean joked as he watched her attack the puddle in the center of the floor. Flirtatiously, Zoe held the mop handle upright and took a grind against it, as if it were a stripper pole. “But,” he continued, “I’d better go. It’s early enough, Shefali should still be there. I’ll call you when I get out.” He handed her the notebook page he’d retrieved from the floor, and left.

Zoe quickly finished her cleanup and headed to her bedroom. She absent-mindedly pulled on a camisole and sweatpants as she continued to puzzle over the internship list, trying to distract herself from worrying about Dean.

The counseling sessions were winding down by the time Dean made it back to Hyde High. He spotted Dave still loitering within sight of the main entrance, and detoured to meet his friend.

“Dude, excellent timing!” Dave greeted him, “I was just gonna text you. It looks like everybody is out, at least the girls. Crystal Stevens got tagged; I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell Tony.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Thanks, man — I appreciate the eyeballs.”

“Any time. Do you think Zoe will figure out what’s up with this? You scored yourself one smart hottie, bro.”

“Don’t I know it,” responded Dean. “We’ll see, I guess. Hang loose!” Dave departed while Dean paused a moment to share the news with Zoe. Afterwards, he had to argue with the security officer, finally resorting to “medical emergency,” before he could get through the entrance.

Saddled with what seemed like a totally unnecessary escort, Dean walked down the empty hallway of the administration building to the medical office. The door was locked, and a small illuminated sign Dean hadn’t noticed previously advised, “with patient; please wait.”

The two looked at each other. “I can wait by myself,” Dean offered.

The security guy looked annoyed. “No unescorted students on campus today.” He clearly was weighing unpalatable alternatives in his head, and apparently nursemaiding some sick kid for an unknown period of time lost out. The guard inserted his ID into the door, which obediently unlocked itself.

“Ms. Patel,” he called, opening the door and herding Dean through it, “I have a student here to see you. I’m putting him here in the waiting room due to the lockdown — call us when he’s finished.” The door was closed behind him and Dean was alone before Shefali’s muted “yes?” reached him from the examination room.

That door opened and the nurse peered out to see who had entered. Dean opened his mouth to greet her, but gasped instead as he convulsed and pumped a huge load into his pants, soaking his crotch instantly.

“Oh, Dean,” Shefali stuttered as a wet spot appeared on the front of her skirt and urine began running down her legs, “Dean, you must not be here right now!” The door, freed from her nerveless hand, slowly swung open.

Ignoring her, Dean advanced toward the examination room, drawn by some unfathomable but irresistible urge. His white-hot erection was painfully hard and the glistening slime-coated tip of it, broken rubber band lost somewhere, poked above the waistband of his pants.

Shefali stared at the protruding flesh, which was nearly as pale as Dean’s uniform shirt and in stark contrast to his flushed face. She made a last attempt to push him back from the doorway, but another gout of thick slime erupted from his penis to spray across her blouse and face, and she staggered backwards with a gasp.

Dean stared at the examination table, fixated by the girl lying atop it. It was Crystal Stevens, and she was completely naked. Breasts heaving, she panted rapidly while urine leaked from a pussy that was flowered open with arousal and so copiously lubricating it looked almost frothy. The scent of her need filled the room and his cock seemed to strain toward her offered opening. Almost absently, Dean pawed at his pants while behind him the nurse leaned against a wall, working herself with one gloved hand while the other pushed his glistening scum towards her lips.

Finally freed, his cock was a mottled grey that contrasted with the jaundiced tinge of his engorged balls and the ruddy flush of his groin and limbs. Dean leaned forward and buried his face in Crystal’s cunt, causing his glans to bulge obscenely as he tasted her. Mindless of the feminine discharge smeared across his face, he stood up and speared the girl, pulling her towards him until he was completely buried in her womb.

Crystal screamed as Dean hammered her repeatedly, but the way her fingernails mauled her breasts suggested extreme pleasure rather than outrage. Clots of discharge leaked copiously from the junction of their bodies, thick glistening liquid mixed with dark chunks the color of old rust and other unidentifiable matter.

Both of them gasped explosively, Crystal wailing with the force of her climax. Dean, in contrast, stilled; the only visible movement of his body was the contraction of his chest as he continued breathing rapidly. He felt that he was pumping her again, somehow, but it was different than before. The girl began moaning and wailing again, more vigorously than when Dean had been thrusting into her moments earlier.

Shefali watched with fascination, crouched on the floor but forcing her hands away from her body, as the two teens began trembling violently against each other. Crystal’s scream of total ecstasy rose into a series of piercing squeaks. Finally both of them were silent and the only sounds in the room were heavy breathing and the splat of iridescent slime that began overflowing Crystal’s plugged channel and dripping to the floor.

Crystal continued to stare blankly at the ceiling. After a minute, Dean pulled away, only to look down at himself with shock and stunned amazement. A few shreds of tattered flesh hung around the root of his organ, coated with a faintly pink slime. Where his manhood had been projected a new organ, roughly the same size, but completely inhuman.

It was a deep, glossy black and covered with horned scales like a cross between a crab leg and alligator skin. Thick gel oozed from slits at the end and leaked slowly back along its length. Dean hesitantly touched the organ, feeling the hard shell and pricking a finger against a spine, but getting no sensation at all from his cock itself.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” Dean asked with dawning anger, turning to face Shefali. “What is this?” The anger faded slightly as his nose caught the faint scent of Crystal’s residue on the nurse, overlaid with her own discharge.

Shefali watched like a bird mesmerized by a snake as the boy’s swollen sack rippled unnaturally and the end of his stalk peeled apart to reveal a fluorescent green inner organ. She turned to scramble away on hands and knees but Dean’s cock reared higher and sprayed something from an opening at its root near his scrotum. The woman collapsed with a shuddering moan like a puppet with cut strings.

Dean unceremoniously dropped to his knees and pulled Shefali up, pushing her jacket and dress onto her back to reveal a bare mound shining with arousal. Her scent didn’t captivate him the way Crystal’s had, and he focused instead on the inviting rosebud nestled between her cheeks. He began forcing himself into her back door, which opened easily to accommodate him, although she jerked occasionally as the cruel spikes and ridges of his organ scraped into her sensitive anus.

He held still, more aware now but less certain how to proceed, and felt himself spread and extend further inside her. If his outer sheath was lacking in sensation, the inner organ more than made up for it, and Dean began trembling on the edge of sensory overload almost immediately. He realized a tensing and relaxing of his body seemed to flex his cock in and out of Shefali’s bowel, although it dragged a bit on the back stroke, making the nurse spasm in his arms. More of her hot piss began leaking onto the floor, further exciting him.

Curious, Dean began pulling out, keeping himself tensed. Shefali screamed as he worked himself out of her butt, but started working herself with one hand. He was stunned to discover that, fully extended, he was about 16 inches long! The last half of that, his inner core, was an eye-searing fluorescent lime green that swelled to nearly 3 inches in diameter and was coated with a thick layer of slime, pierced by many barbs all angled back towards him.

They tore brutally at Shefali’s bloody ass as he dragged himself out of her, finally revealing a knot at the end covered in slime discolored by her shit. Dean ran himself slowly back into her, orgasming almost continuously from the prolonged stimulation. He felt himself surge repeatedly inside the bucking woman, and dragged himself out of her again.

Unfulfilled, Dean pushed Shefali sideways so she rolled onto her back to stare up at him. He flexed, exposing his core to its maximum extent and flaring its barbs. His mind wandered distractedly, and fastened on the memory of Zoe’s blowjobs. Yeah, this bitch could clean him with her lying mouth… Unconsciously he sprayed again, watching the fearful look on Shefali’s face fade into glazed desire.

Before he could act on the impulse, annoying hands were pushing at Dean, steering him back to the comatose girl atop the table. “Come on, Dean, here’s Crystal — smell her, she needs you.” The voice was right; her scent was needy.

He needed no further urging to plunge back into her. Already more in control of himself, Dean was able to fill her more completely than he had before, waking her body to renewed arousal as he pleasured himself.

Principal Edwards hustled the shaken and dazed Shefali into the shower, before shaking his cruelly-decorated limp cock into Crystal’s mouth and beginning to pee. The two teens seemed to redouble their efforts to grind against each other, before thrashing again in mutual ecstasy.

When Dean was again able to take notice of his surroundings, the two adults were guiding him to a chair in the outer office. Shefali, still wet, wore nothing but a pair of white panties, a clean lab coat and a mask over her nose and mouth. He watched as she moved to look at Crystal, but felt nothing but a faint echo of desire.

“Are you feeling okay?” Edwards asked him.

Dean looked down at himself, but found himself discreetly hidden away again. Assuming, he reflected, that a glossy black tool that looked like it belonged in a hard-core S&M catalog could be called discreet. “What’s ‘okay’?” he laughed brokenly.

“It’s a bit to digest,” agreed Edwards, “but take a minute. We just need to get Crystal taken care of.”

The teen watched as his classmate was loaded onto a stretcher and wheeled away by a team of unfamiliar adults in hospital scrubs. “Will anybody ever see her again, or will she disappear like the others?”

“Believe that I speak truly when I say Crystal will have the very best of care, and that many people are urgently concerned with her continued good health,” Shefali assured him as she joined them, closing the exam room door behind her. She began fastening her lab coat. “I must apologize profusely for this incident,” she told Dean.

“I should be apologizing to you,” Dean countered, thinking of the puddle of blood drying on the floor in the other room.

She shook her head. “I think we both will be fine, Dean. And, truly, the fault lies with us. You were not prepared for this, and we were.”

“Well, we thought we were,” Edwards admitted. “It’s always the little things that trip you up.”

“Is this a ‘little thing’?” Dean demanded angrily, rapping himself and getting a muffled thunk. The tip flared briefly before subsiding.

Shefali had the grace to look abashed, but Principal Edwards snorted. “Shefali, can you give us a few minutes alone?”

“Certainly, Mr. Edwards,” she assented. “It is just as well that I should continue cleaning up.” She returned to the examination room, leaving the other two alone.

“Look, Dean,” Edwards restarted the conversation, “you’re still the same kid you were. You just have a little cosmetic change.”

“Cosmetic?” The teen’s laugh had a hysterical edge to it. “I’m a fucking monster! Look at this!” He grabbed himself, and then displayed dots of red on his hands where points on his carapace had pricked his fingers. “Look at Shefali! I’ll never have sex again!”

“Calm down and think rationally, kid,” advised the adult. “It’s still just a cock. Shefali said she was okay, right? And how about Crystal? Did she act like you were hurting her, or she didn’t like it?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I don’t think so — you literally fucked that girl silly. I wish I could make a woman feel that way!”

Dean looked thoughtful but still angry.

After gauging the teen’s mood, Edwards sighed. “Okay, enough bullshit. It’s carrot and stick time, then.” He waited until Dean met his gaze before continuing. “How did you feel when you were fucking Crystal and Shefali? Be honest.”

He couldn’t see where this line of discussion was going, but Dean decided the principal meant the question seriously. “Crystal was great. I mean, I don’t know what it was, but it was like I had to have her.” He warmed to the subject as he continued, “it felt different, moving inside her after the first time, but it was the greatest. It was so sensitive, I felt like I was cumming continuously, but I didn’t feel like I needed to stop, you know? Shefali was good, too; she’s hot, better looking than Crystal, actually, but it wasn’t really the same. I don’t know why.” A thick dollop of slime emerged from his cock and drooled to the floor.

“Pheromones,” summarized Edwards. “More or less; Shefali doubtless could tell you more, if you really cared. Suffice to say that every girl at this school is yours for the taking. In fact, they’ll beg you to fuck them, any time and any way you want to take them. If you have a creative mind — and I’m sure you do — the possibilities are endless. And if they’re in heat, like Crystal, you’ll enjoy it just as much as they do. Open season; this is a serious offer.”

No teenage male, including Dean, could have resisted fantasizing about trying out any young hottie that caught his eye, or repaying the perpetrator of any past slight or insult with degradation and humiliation, all the more enjoyable because his victims would be willing accomplices. To his credit, Dean didn’t spend all that much time thinking it over.

“I’m not here to star in your sick pornos,” Dean told his principal. “As if that could possibly justify this” — he gestured at himself again — “whatever it is. And there’s only one girl at this school I really care about. You can take your offer and shove it!”

The answer didn’t faze Edwards, who leaned forward intently. “Ah yes, Zoe Ryan. Now we come to the sweetest part of the carrot, and the stick.”

Dean froze, feeling fearful for the first time. “What about Zoe?” he asked.

“Everybody knows you two are an item,” began Edwards. “and for months now you’ve been preparing her, even if you didn’t know it. She’s been eating your sperm and drinking your urine what, once or twice a day? More? You’ve filled every hole in her body. Have you noticed she isn’t eating much of anything else these days? How many times have you seen Zoe with another boy? How often have you offered yourself to another girl?”

Satisfied he had Dean’s attention, Edwards sat back and continued talking. “I said ‘sort of pheromones’ earlier for a reason. Zoe is impregnated with your essence, Dean, like no other girl in this world. Human passions aside, her body will call to you, and yours to her. Even if you hated her, and she was the ugliest crone imaginable, you will want her like nobody else. When she comes into heat, which should be soon, sex with her will make what you just had with Crystal seem like a quick Playboy jerkoff session. And finally, believe me when I say Zoe’s body is more than ready and willing to take every inch of you, anywhere you want, as many times as you want.”

He waited a moment for Dean to absorb that information, before resuming. “That’s the carrot. For reasons I will not discuss, I have a vested interest in seeing the two of you together, and nothing would make me happier than to see you fuck each other’s brains out.” The principal’s tone became darkly menacing. “But here’s the stick: fuck with me and you will never see her again. I’d regret it, but don’t think I won’t do it. And don’t make the mistake of underestimating my reach.”

Dean went cold inside, thinking of Jana and her family. “What do you want?” he asked guardedly.

“Nothing difficult,” Edwards assured him. “First, forget we ever had this conversation. And second, make sure you and Zoe come to Spots tomorrow night. We’re having a memorial party for Jana and it would be a shame if either of you missed it; you’re both invited to the private event in back.”

It wasn’t hard for Dean to agree; there was nothing obviously harmful in the “requests” and at the very least it would buy time for him to figure out how to escape this trap. He nodded his assent.

“Good,” pronounced Edwards. Then, in a louder voice: “Shefali, we’re ready for you.”

The nurse joined them instantly, carrying an equipment tray. Still wearing her mask, and also a pair of large safety glasses, she knelt in front of Dean and began straightening the mass of metallic links that lay on the tray.

“Think of this as something in the way of protective coloration and a muzzle,” the man explained in response to Dean’s quizzical expression. “Go ahead, Shefali.”

As they watched, she draped the chain mesh over Dean’s hard organ. It reminded him vaguely of a lint filter, slit up the length on one side, except the mesh was formed of links in a grid with perhaps half-inch spacing, with rivets at the intersections. A two-inch metal cap, tipped with two thin slots forming an “X”, went over the head of his cock, and Shefali tugged the mesh around his spines so it lay flat down the length of his organ, hanging on either side. Each of the chains running the length of the mesh was riveted to a leathery band that hung against Dean’s body, except for one at the bottom that hung free from the cap.

The cap shifted slightly as Dean’s penetrator pushed lightly against it. “None of that please,” Shefali warned, tugging it back into place. “Will you stand up now, Dean? It will make my task easier.”

He complied, and she began threading the bottom chain down the length of his tool, using it to knit the sides together until he was completely encased by the criss-crossing gleaming links. Shefali picked up a tool and used one hand to cradle his balls and pull them forward while reaching in with the tool behind them. There was a moment of pain, and she jerked back in surprise as a mist of fine vapor sprayed across her mask and glasses.

She carefully wiped the glasses with a cloth, not removing them, and returned to her task. After a little more spreading and some tickling, there was a final “snap” and Shefali leaned back on her heels. “Very good, I think,” she pronounced. “Could you please smell this for just a moment, Dean?” the nurse requested, and handed him a small capped container.

Dean popped open the cap and sniffed cautiously. His vision swam and his heart raced. Somehow Dean knew it was Zoe. His black shaft jerked as his frustrated penetrator attempted to escape, but the snug cap served its function. Iridescent slime began oozing from the slits as Edwards leaned over and appropriated the vial.

Shefali wiped away the slime with a cloth and tugged the harness one last time. “Yes, that’s done the trick. If you would like to see?” She picked up a hand mirror and positioned it so Dean could examine himself.

The bottom of his cock looked much like the top, the seam in the mesh invisible. Black leathery cups covered his balls, separated and held out from his body by straps that secured a small triangular plate over the orifice at the base of his shaft. The chain running down his cock threaded through rings on the plate, pulled tight between his balls, and finally fastened together the ends of the scrotal strap and a ring piercing his body. It looked pretty permanent to Dean.

“How am I supposed to wear clothes with this, or use the bathroom? This is temporary, right?”

“Dean, do not be a baby. You are not really any larger now than you were before; it just looks different.” Shefali finally removed her protective gear, and then rummaged in her cabinet for a moment before fishing out a length of white ribbon. “Here, lift your shirt for me.” He complied, and she matter-of-factly wrapped the length of material around him, just above the waist. It actually was like a giant wide shoelace, but with snaps. Fastening it snugly, she snapped a hook onto the adjacent button and tucked in the dangling end. “Now, you secure yourself like so,” she said, demonstrating by pushing his encased penis up and sideways until she could hook the mesh near the tip. It pulled on Dean’s balls but wasn’t too uncomfortable.

“I believe this is similar to what is known as a ‘Prince Albert,’ if you are a student of history,” Shefali summarized, and handed him his pants. “As for the bathroom, I do not expect you will have much need for urination or defecation, as your body will be consuming many resources to fuel itself. Feel free to take showers; your sheath will not rust. It is most important to eat or drink any time you feel hungry or thirsty.”

Dean dressed himself, only a trifle awkwardly, assured Shefali he was okay, and started thinking about his escape. “Remember, I’m looking forward to seeing you and Zoe tomorrow night,” Principal Edwards said, as he escorted the teen to the main entrance.

How was he going to explain — or not explain — all of this to Zoe? Dean sat in his car, inhaled her scent, and stared at his cell phone.

It took until dinner, aided by her draft yearbook and the SoWet DVD collection, for Zoe to piece together a hypothesis.

Every girl on the list had appeared in at least one of the pornographic videos. As nearly as Zoe could determine, every girl who had appeared in any of the videos was on the list, with four exceptions: Mariah Haskell and Paige Ward, who already had received internships; Jana Fowicki, who was dead; and Zoe Ryan, who had first appeared in the last video.

The correspondence was too perfect to be a coincidence, and it made Zoe extremely nervous. What had kept her name off that piece of paper? Could it have been the seemingly least of the omissions she’d made while talking to Deirdre?

Zoe strained to remember the last time she’d talked with any of the girls. Mariah: “Do you smell it?” Paige: “Are you wearing a new perfume?” Jana: “What perfume are you wearing?” Deirdre: “Perhaps you would care to comment on the smell permeating this room?”

The blonde hadn’t admitted to anything, although she remembered the faint, sweet scent. Had her classmates answered differently? Dean’s call hadn’t helped, either. He was okay, which was good, but he’d sounded a little weird and distracted. Zoe didn’t want to say anything over the phone, so they agreed to meet as usual at lunch.

Appetite gone, Zoe settled on noodle soup for dinner and ended up just stirring most of noodles around her bowl before settling for drinking the broth. She didn’t really need to hear from Claudia to know the rules of the game had changed. Whatever these “internships” were, Mariah’s apparent disappearance from the face of the earth suggested something unpleasant. It wasn’t just a question of corporate malfeasance now — Zoe was afraid her own life was at risk. She couldn’t let go without getting to the bottom of things.

By lunch the following day, Zoe had reluctantly concluded she would need to return to Spots. Claudia confirmed, on the ride in, that Jana’s family doctor had been seriously injured in the explosion. Zoe hardly needed the additional information, although Claudia was not interested in hearing about her “grand conspiracy theory.”

Dean was a no-show second hour, giving Zoe a scare, but met her for lunch as usual. He denied her the expected golden drink; he’d seen Shefali that morning and was on medical restriction. With a teasing grin, he assured her that he’d be fine by that evening but she’d have to wait until then for her surprise.

His expression was grimmer when Zoe explained her theory, and then she broached the subject of Spots. Confusingly, Dean seemed both relieved and apprehensive when she suggested the visit. “What do you hope to accomplish?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Zoe admitted. “I just don’t know what else to try. Everybody who’s missing has been there; we found those DVDs there and never did get a chance to look around. Maybe there’s something more to find.”

“Yeah, and you never did get me that copy of our video like you promised.” He laughed shortly. “Count me in, babe. I don’t have any better ideas either, and at least we get a night out together. Besides, we make a good team.”

Late that afternoon, Zoe decided to make a last attempt to expand the team further. She headed over to Claudia’s house and let herself in when knocking got no response. As the blonde had half-expected, Claudia was in but not alone. The brunette was squirming blissfully atop Joanne’s face; weights dangled from the cheerleader’s nipples and clit, and a large buzzing vibrator overflowed her ass.

“Hey, Barbie,” Claudia greeted her, “are you still planning to go to Spots tonight?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to join us?” Zoe was a little uncomfortable ignoring Joanne’s presence, but followed Claudia’s lead.

“For such a smart girl, you can be pretty fucking stupid,” Claudia pointed out. “If your conspiracy theory pans out, I don’t want to be within miles of that fucking place. If you’re wrong, there’s nothing I can get there I don’t already have here — what better salute to that bitch than pissing in her best friend’s face?” She wriggled with pleasure. “You want my advice?” Zoe nodded. “Quit dicking around with those fucking assholes and get the hell out of here.”

It was quiet in the room for a moment while Zoe considered the advice. Claudia landed a lash across Joanne’s ass, and the cheerleader started licking again. “Don’t mess with those fuckers, Zoe. If those bastards really killed Jana, they aren’t going to hesitate to fuck with you.”

“Thanks, Claudia,” Zoe replied, “but I can’t let this go, not this time. I just can’t.”

She returned home for another unsatisfying soup dinner, alone; her parents had decided on a night out of their own. After that, it was time to get dressed.

Zoe had thought about this since the previous day, and elected to wear white lace. The polo shirt and miniskirt provided superficial modesty, but the lace bra and panties she wore beneath them were clearly visible. Moreover, a careful viewer could observe flesh and piercings even through both layers of lace if she wasn’t moving. The lace rubbed her delightfully, but Zoe was growing accustomed to the cascade of sensations from her needy body, and the white underwear didn’t show moisture. The most attractive part of the outfit, from Zoe’s point of view, was the pair of bright white athletic shoes.

“What, no fuck-me pumps?” asked Dean, not unappreciatively, when she opened the door later that evening.

“Not if I want to be able to run,” Zoe answered, seriously. She admired the massive bulge in the leather pants Dean was wearing, and his cologne was to die for. “You have your camera, right? Let’s go before I lose my nerve.”

She needed that nerve when they arrived. Notwithstanding the “We Miss You Jana” banner hung outside the door, a raucous party was in progress inside. If many of the regulars-turned-interns were missing, their absence was more than made up for by what seemed like a sizeable fraction of the student body.

The pair pushed their way slowly through the packed bodies towards the bar. An array of filled mugs occupied one end of it, apparently the drink of choice for the girls Zoe saw. As she watched, a boy peed into a mug and added it to the collection while he waited for his own drink. Zoe snagged a mug and raised it to her lips, but it didn’t smell right; something about it seemed off, although the frenetic energy of the crowd made it hard for her to concentrate. She put the untouched drink back on the bar.

The blonde realized Hank was shouting at her from behind the counter, trying to be heard over the noise. “Try this one!” He proffered a larger mug, which Dean intercepted and passed over. This had the heady sweet scent Zoe expected, and she drained it in one long pour, not even bothering to swallow, feeling the warmth inside her. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she’d been! Zoe tossed the empty mug back to the bartender with an appreciative smile.

Dean leaned over so she could hear him. “It looks like the door to the back room is open!” She nodded, unable to see over the crowd clearly without the benefit of heels or his height. By unspoken agreement he started in that direction, allowing Zoe to follow in his wake. The pair moved slowly but steadily across the room, fending off random attempts to grope them with varying degrees of success.

Finally they reached the back wall, and Zoe edged around Dean to look through the doorway of the private party room. “Girls Gone Wild,” she thought she heard Dean say, and the thought seemed appropriate. The desk had been removed, and the couch was pushed up against the far wall. A trio of girls, wearing black string bikinis, danced together in the center of the room, dry-humping their moisture-slicked bodies against each other. Several watching boys directed intermittent streams of piss at them, the girls bobbing to catch mouthfuls of warm urine when they could. The girls’ skin glistened under the lighting illuminating them and it didn’t escape Zoe’s notice that the mirrored wall was completely unobstructed. She glanced to her left, but the office door was closed.

Zoe hesitated on the threshold. A part of her subconscious was screaming for her to get out now, but another part was urging her to touch herself and join the others. The rational part of Zoe’s mind that was still working balanced the risks of the crowd and TRAINCO’s unknown designs against the reassuring presence of Dean at her side and her desire to unravel the mystery.

With a deep mental breath, she squirmed her way through the bodies in the doorway. Her entry caught Kevin’s attention; sprawled on the coach, he aimed a long look at the blonde, obviously mentally undressing her. His expression surprised Zoe, and in other circumstances, she might have blushed. Now, she was horny as hell and accepted his desire as her due.

Zoe walked to join the bikini girls in the center of the room, swaying with the driving bass beat of the music around her. They welcomed her with teasing tongues and probing fingers. With a sinking sensation in her stomach, she recognized the girl who had been facing Kevin, back to the door, was Joanne. Joanne, who had heard every word of Zoe’s conversation with Claudia. Why was she here? Had she told anybody anything?

“I like, knew I had to be here for this,” giggled Joanne, pressing her superheated moist cunt against Zoe’s thigh. Soft hands teased Zoe’s nipples out of hiding, erecting them through the widening gaps in the lace, and straight pins went in; she was instantly wet and nearly lost control. Too late, she saw pins studding the breasts of all three of the other girls. “Isn’t this, like, the greatest?” Joanne breathed, pushing a breast against Zoe.

Zoe started to twist back towards the doorway, but her attention was arrested by Kevin. He was naked now, erect and quivering, and still focused on her. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from his cock — it was covered in some black and chain sheath, with a bright metal cap. The harness squeezed his enormous balls away from his body. As he closed with the girls, his cock throbbed and a glob of glistening slime emerged from the tip. God help her, something smelled good; she wet herself helplessly.

The blonde turned, looking for escape, but a laughing girl on each arm hampered her movement, and Joanne was still between her and the doorway. The cheerleader, giggling again, crouched and stabbed at Zoe’s clit, pinning her in place as waves of heat raced through her body.

“Oh baby, isn’t that like, just the best?” asked Joanne, as she tugged down the soaked lace panties before jabbing Zoe again. “Don’t you, like, love how that feels?” Her breath was hot against Zoe’s soaking pussy.

Then Kevin was behind her, grunting, “oh yeah, take it, you slut,” in Zoe’s ear, as his cruelly decorated cock penetrated her anus. His hands on her hips kept her from pulling away from the painful intrusion. A spray of piss from an onlooker splashed the blonde’s face and she flicked her tongue after it reflexively.

Now, when it was too late, Zoe found Dean. To her shocked surprise, he was naked and his cock and balls were decorated in the same way as Kevin’s! He stood, staring blankly in Zoe’s direction, as Kevin bottomed out inside her ass and began thrusting back and forth.

One of the bikini girls skipped to Dean’s side and pulled him forward, towards the group in the center of the room. As Zoe watched in muted horror, the giggling girl began working a baroquely ribbed vibrator into Dean’s ass; the look of confusion faded from his face as his cock jerked further toward vertical and oozed slime from its head. There was more giggling behind her and Kevin began pounding more urgently as the remaining girl penetrated him with a vibrator, too.

The threesome toppled to the floor as soon as Dean rammed himself into Zoe’s cunt and her knees buckled. Still locked together by ornamented male organs, they trembled and spasmed repeatedly under the barrage of sensations. The boys surged repeatedly into Zoe as each of them was worked in the ass by a panting bikini girl. The third girl, initially a giggling Joanne, urinated through her suit into Zoe’s face while withdrawing pins from her breasts and plunging them into Zoe’s. As each girl emptied herself, they rotated positions.

Zoe’s eyes rolled in her head as the stimulation reaching every part of her super-sensitized body resulted in a continuous stream of orgasms. Her last conscious thought was that she was sinking into some sort of honey-scented ocean of sexuality and desire.

Slowly, tentatively, Zoe regained her senses. She was still impaled fore and aft, but her partners lay quietly, apparently also unconscious, although their organs pulsed inside her. The blonde could feel steady streams of something — it felt too viscous for piss — running into her before leaking slowly out again; her breasts stung everywhere and her hip felt bruised from where she’d fallen over on it.

It was almost quiet. Cracking her eyes, she determined the gentle rocking motion that had awakened her came from Joanne. The moaning cheerleader bent over the threesome, licking desperately at Zoe’s crotch and abusing herself urgently. Warned by approaching footsteps, Zoe closed her eyes and feigned unconsciousness. The newcomers pulled Joanne, moaning about how good it smelled, off of Zoe and led her away. A moment later there were no other sounds.

Now was her chance! Zoe kissed Dean and bit his lip until he stirred, her mouth muffling his. When his eyes reflected awareness of their surroundings, she released the kiss and they wriggled free of each other, and stood up. Kevin remained on the floor, breathing noisily through his mouth.

They were a mess. With gravity assist, unbelievable amounts of thick clear slime slid from Zoe’s opened holes, down her legs, and into her shoes, quickly overflowing onto the floor. She tried a step, which squelched noisily. Dean dared to crack a smile as more of the slime continued to pulse from his caged cock.

Grimacing in annoyance at the collapse of her clever planning, Zoe pulled off the shoes and her anklets. She brushed the heavily soiled skirt into place before picking pins — twenty-three of them — from her breasts and nipples. She was still dripping copiously, and her underwear wouldn’t have handled that even before it ended up at the bottom of the orgy.

Struck by inspiration, Zoe crossed to the bookshelf and opened it. There were several more bikinis on the shelves amid the other supplies. She wiped herself somewhat clean with one before discarding it, and then pulled on another, adjusting the strings to keep it on her hips. It was almost immediately sodden, but at least she wasn’t dripping any longer.

Dean was struggling with the cage on his cock and balls. Zoe went to look at it too, but she couldn’t see how to open it and it clearly couldn’t be removed otherwise. She was shocked by her close inspection, wondering what the black sheath beneath the chains was made from, and whether it was as cruelly barbed and ridged on the inside. Dean jerked against her several times when she fingered the ring in his body. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Dean, “I think you’re stuck.” It was clear the link at the end was the key, but it appeared solid and unbreakable. She fought to ignore the scent of his groin and stay focused on their goal.

With a shrug, Dean gingerly pulled on a pair of briefs. They looked absurdly small on him, his erection tenting out and well above the waistband. As Zoe watched, he retrieved a strap from his discarded clothing and used it to secure his still-leaking cock closer to his body. Dean looked longingly at his pants, but it was clear it would take an unacceptably long time to wriggle back into them. He settled for packing another bikini bottom around the head of his penis to muffle the chains and absorb his emissions. He grabbed his camera from the corner and nodded towards the door.

They peered out to see the lights still on, but the club was deserted. Zoe scanned the room, but Dean tapped her shoulder and pointed at the floor — a trail of spattered urine led to the “STAFF ONLY” door in the corner. After passing cautiously through that door, they found themselves in a short maintenance corridor connecting the building’s rear exit, staff bathroom, and kitchen. Interestingly, the trail led past the rear door and ended in front of the bathroom.

Dean was about to open the bathroom door when they heard noises from within. Hearts racing, the pair bolted for the kitchen and slipped through just before the bathroom door opened; Dean held the kitchen door ajar to prevent betraying movement and they listened carefully.

A pair of TRAINCO security officers emerged from the bathroom, pushing a cleaning cart and arguing about who would clean the floor. “I didn’t get a permit to carry so I could push a mop,” declared the winner, as they moved down the hall away from the teens and re-entered the main room.

Dean released the door and walked over to a prep table with several pitchers sitting on it. After sniffing one, he drank straight from the pitcher, quaffing about half of it. Zoe was feeling a little parched too, but settled for pouring herself a glass. It smelled and tasted a little off, but she was too thirsty to care. “Not as good as the real thing,” she whispered in a teasing tone before getting back to business.

She peeked out the door to make sure the coast was clear again. The view of her from behind, legs straight and skirt flouncing over the curve of her outthrust butt as she leaned in the doorway, was too good for Dean to pass up. Click-Flash! Zoe whirled and gave him a dirty look. “What if somebody saw the flash?!”

They exited the kitchen and quickly padded down the hall to the bathroom door. This time, it sounded unoccupied and they entered, locking the door behind them. Predictably, the room was empty. The floor, annoyingly, was newly mopped, leaving no further trail to follow. The single stall, urinal, and sink held no secrets. A door on the side, ajar, led to a small supply closet. They inspected it, finding a few shelves, a space obviously meant for the cleaning cart, and an emergency shower.

There had to be a trick somewhere; as she stood in the shower, Zoe could smell the faint “tainted honey” scent she was beginning to think was connected to all of this. “I think it must be around here somewhere,” she whispered to Dean, without explaining why. They both began inspecting the closet more closely.

Struck by sudden inspiration, Zoe exclaimed, “of course!” and tugged the pull chain on the shower. It functioned as designed, and the unwary teen was deluged by a heavy spray of cold water from the industrial head above her. She was completely soaked and frantically tried to stop the water, cursing up a storm.

“Fail!” laughed Dean, who had avoided most of the spray. Taking advantage of his greater height, he was able to lean in and push the lever on the chain back up to the “off” position. In his haste, he pushed hard enough that the lever actually went a little above its original position — there was a click from the wall ahead of them as the water shut off.

Zoe stood half-drowned as the stall wall opened away from her, revealing a lighted ramp leading down under the kitchen; she was already shivering in the cool air wafting up the passage.

“C’mon, Zoe, you can’t stay like that,” Dean chided, and grabbed a few bar towels from the nearby shelf. “You need to dry off.”

She peeled the sodden lace off her body and dumped it on the floor of the stall. Clad in just the black bikini bottom, she sacrificed several of the small towels to mostly dry her body and hair.

“Score,” murmured Dean, who had been inspecting the other shelves. He handed Zoe a black “Spots” T-shirt, nominally in her size but fitted to the point of being almost too tight. Zoe could feel her nipples pressing hard against the material, and Dean’s eyes showed he could see them, too; but it was better than nothing. She felt they couldn’t spend time looking for something better — they could be discovered at any minute.

Dean found a rubber band and handed it to Zoe. “For your hair,” he suggested, and she pulled her damp hair back into a ponytail and secured it. Dean could feel wetness soaking into the material of his briefs, but the sight and smell of Zoe’s body was driving him nearly crazy. He consciously forced himself to relax and lessen the discharge.

The pair proceeded carefully down the ramp to what looked like a nurse’s station in a hospital ward. A hallway, dotted with doorways, led off to one side, but Zoe’s attention was captured by the central area itself. She pointed, but Dean was already taking pictures — flash disabled — of the weird furniture sitting beside the chairs. As they studied the area at greater length, the abnormal proportions of the work surfaces, halls, and doorways became more apparent.

Faint screams echoed down the hall; they clearly were feminine, but whether of pain and fear or arousal, Zoe couldn’t say. The smell of honey was stronger and made her head swim, but she was determined not to leave without gathering the information she wanted.

Nervously, Zoe crept to the first door off the hall, imaginatively labeled “1.” She thought she was ready for anything at this point, but her resolve was sorely tested by what she found inside.

Mariah Haskell was lying naked atop a strangely shaped bed, hugely pregnant. She appeared to be either sleeping or unconscious, although the latter seemed more likely. A feeding tube was inserted through her nose; as Zoe watched, liquid mixed with unidentifiable clots of something moved from the wall down the tube into the teen’s stomach. Some sort of goo leaked from her inflamed pussy, surrounding a short catheter tube from which piss trickled continuously. A collection trough guided all of this to a drain in the floor.

Zoe had reached out to touch Mariah, a fingertip brushing the other girl’s warm flesh, when she noticed the steady clicking of Dean’s camera behind her had stopped.

“Holy shit,” Dean stammered, in a voice she’d never heard.

She rushed for the doorway and met a wave of air scented with honey and something else that swept into the room. Zoe was overcome with sheer lust and staggered the last few steps into the hallway as she orgasmed convulsively. She peed uncontrollably in terror and excitement, but didn’t notice.

Their attention was focused on the black apparition, vaguely insectoid in appearance, which moved down the hall towards them. It was roughly the mass of a large human, if proportioned far differently, but there the similarities ended. It reared up, exposing a pair of large stalks that peeled apart to reveal inner cores that leaked slime as they extended towards the humans before it.

Zoe moaned with desire, her cunt and ass both suddenly burning with need. The moan became tinged with despair, and she took an unsteady step forward, unable to stop herself. The blonde knew she was going to take the next step, and the next…

No fucking bug was going to take his girl! Emboldened by possessive fury, Dean snatched the sodden bikini from his penis and slapped it across Zoe’s face, breaking her trance. He grabbed her arm and hauled her by main force back across the common area to the entry ramp. Zoe initially offered disjointed resistance, but began to run as he dragged her away from the creature. They sprinted up the ramp, an eerie hissing echoing behind them as the creature’s wide stance precluded it from following them up the relatively narrow passage.

Retreating to the ground floor, Zoe and Dean darted out the back door past the dumpster to safety. They were forced to slow down, gasping for breath, as both were barefoot and beyond the bounds of public decency. Luckily, and not for the first time, Dean’s car was not far away — and he had a hideout key stashed on it.

Dean dropped Zoe at her house and drove slowly away. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone, but all she could think of while he was near was his cock, and Zoe wanted a chance to focus and organize her thoughts. She silently crept into her darkened house and stopped in the kitchen to quench her thirst. Even the bland taste and knowledge that it wasn’t normal didn’t keep her from emptying the pitcher of lemonade she found in the refrigerator in an attempt to sooth her parched throat. Feeling slightly better, the teen headed for her bedroom and tried to ignore the thumping of the bed in her parents’ room.

Zoe sat in bed with her laptop and began composing her expose. She might not have seen all the pieces, but she intuited the whole of the situation. The aliens, or whatever they were, were behind it. TRAINCO was just a dummy shell to fool people into believing there was a less sinister, more mundane, purpose. Somehow, the students and faculty at Hyde High had been suborned, over time, to this purpose.

Mariah must have been early, maybe even first; her mother was a councilmember. That’s why the school was so isolated. That’s why Mariah was always one step ahead of everybody else. That’s why everybody drank and peed so much — even if the purpose, if any, remained unknown. That’s how the piercings and other wounds could be healed so fast, using medical technology that was not human in origin.

Zoe continued writing, listing the escalating perversions and then every detail she knew or guessed about the aliens. Her typing slowed radically; she was masturbating compulsively, reliving each kinky memory as she recorded it. The teen’s arousal refused to peak, even as she worked herself increasingly urgently.

She was driving herself crazy. Her tousled sheets reeked of urine, feminine desire, and honey. Zoe hadn’t achieved a single orgasm, and not for want of trying. Dimly, Zoe realized it was light outside; her essay was finished. Worse, her mother was knocking on the door! “Zoe, honey, can you come downstairs? There’s somebody here to see you.”

“Five minutes!” the teen shouted, wanting to know who was waiting but afraid to start a conversation that might result in her mother opening the door and seeing this. Please let it be Dean, she thought.

Her hair looked like crap, and a quick rinse of her face and crotch threatened to eat up all five minutes; a viscous mix of frothy gel and spunk leaked from her slit, and she was urinating uncontrollably. Zoe forced herself to stop stroking and move on. She just had time to brush her hair out, throw on a school uniform, and save her article to a flash drive — just in case. Sheets stuffed in the bottom of her closet for later, Zoe pounded downstairs to the front room and pulled up short.

Paul Edwards smiled greasily at her as a wave of tainted honey made her mouth and cunt water. “Zoe, good morning! I was just telling your parents how pleased I am that TRAINCO is able to offer you an internship with our publishing division.” He moved closer and shook her hand. “Congratulations to you on your hard work.”

The scent was overwhelming. She looked down, searching for and finding the outline of his cock, and fought the urge to drop to her knees in front of him and suckle it. Dimly, she realized her parents were saying something, but she couldn’t make sense of the words. The most Zoe could accomplish was to smile and nod to them as Principal Edwards led her out the door to the TRAINCO town car waiting in the driveway.

They slid into the back seat; the car seemed to be infused with the exciting odor and Zoe was panting. Edwards unzipped his elegantly tailored slacks and extracted the decorated head of his penis. A catheter tube extended from it, closed with a small clamp. “Would you like a drink, Zoe?”

He leaned back in his seat and smiled as the girl bent in front of him to suck greedily at the impromptu straw.

“Well, I am so glad she’s getting this opportunity,” Becky Ryan exclaimed as the car pulled off and she closed the door. Her husband agreed, adding, “and I won’t mind having a little more time for ourselves.” He lifted her skirt, revealing an ass covered with welts.

Ken reached for the butt plug filling her ass, stroked it in and out a few times, and replaced it with his cock. Becky leaned against the front door, moaning and twisting her nipples, as her husband slammed into her.

Principal Edwards closed the clamp on his catheter and pushed Zoe upright. She felt hot and ready for … something. Looking through the tinted glass of the town car, she noticed they were in some underground parking area. The blonde let Edwards guide her quietly through a door into an open area, with some of the same bizarre furniture and hallways she’d seen the previous night. A low table, like the one holding Mariah, stood in the center of the area.

A dejected-looking Dean sat on a chair at one side, empty water bottle in his hands. He was still dressed in his briefs, although they now glistened with slimy moisture. A sheepish grin crossed his face at Zoe’s obvious surprise, and he rose to meet her. “I knew you’d come back here, Zoe,” he confessed. “And I couldn’t let you do it alone — I love you!” Dean pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Zoe was trembling — with relief, fear, excitement, and arousal. She inhaled the smell of Dean’s body, wanting him, and then the scent of tainted honey was flooding around her, fogging her thoughts again. Zoe’s body was crying out to be violated; she knew, this time, it would be. It was why she’d followed Edwards so tamely. Footsteps no human would ever make approached from the hallway.

Summoning her remaining force of will, she forced back the physical desire, and turned to the principal. “Can you deliver this to Ms. Petersen?” Zoe asked him, holding out the thumb drive. “It’s my last article.”

Edwards accepted it graciously, assuring her, “I’ll take care of it for you.” He looked a little sad, knowing Zoe was about to experience something he could never share. He was now only a piss-drone, unable to reach arousal even with the most extreme stimulation.

With that thought on his mind, Edwards put the thumb drive in his pocket, exchanging it for a nail clipper. “This is for you, Mr. Killian. For services rendered.” Dean accepted the gift and turned to stare at Zoe, who was watching the exchange.

She had disrobed and was nearly glowing, lips parted, hair still tousled, labia swollen and glistening. Dean had never seen a more desirable girl in his life; had never wanted anyone more. His aroused cock pulsed more slime to flow down its length into his underwear. Zoe read his look with a glance and drew him against her, before initiating a deep kiss and thrusting her studded tongue urgently into his mouth.

Then she was sinking to her knees before him, drawing the briefs down his legs until Dean, too, was naked. Zoe licked him clean, somehow taking his studded cock completely into her mouth and momentarily into her throat. She squeezed his jailed scrotum and milked more slime from him, spreading it down the prickly length of his shaft. Zoe held him tight, tears leaking from her closed eyes; she loved Dean, but knew she needed something more than human cocks now. One last time, she thought.

Zoe took the clippers from Dean’s unresisting grasp and positioned them over the critical link. It seemed absurd, but this had to be what Principal Edwards had meant. Her faith was rewarded when the link parted beneath the clippers like soft butter and the straps fell free. Dean felt the pressure ease on his balls, and began pulling on the center chain, quickly snaking it free and hurling the entire apparatus aside.

The blonde scrabbled at the black casing, trying to remove it, but realized it wasn’t just a covering when the end flowered open to reveal the tip of Dean’s penetrator. He sprayed her with a cloud of honey licorice that simultaneously calmed her fears and excited her need.

“Take it to a room, you two.” Zoe belatedly realized Principal Edwards was talking to them, pointing at a nearby door. Beside him stood the same creature they’d seen last night (or another like it), boasting two organs like the one jutting from Dean’s groin.

Dean was tugging her towards the door and Zoe let herself be led along, fingering herself while staring back at the long alien cocks and wondering what it would be like to take both of them at once. Last night she would have thrown herself on them; but this morning, Dean’s scent held her with a force stronger than any physical restraints. He opened the door, turning to say something to her, and was clocked by Claudia, who was wielding a piece of metal framing.

Both girls screamed at once, Claudia’s, “they’ve got you too!” overlapping Zoe’s anguished, “Dean!” The two naked teens grappled with each other, one trying to drop and examine the fallen boy, the other trying to tug her to safety. Zoe could feel the moment the alien sprayed them; a wave of burning lust raced across her body and gathered in her tummy, while Claudia’s grip loosened and their urine gushed to spatter on the floor.

Zoe hauled on Dean’s arm as he struggled to regain his footing, all her attention focused on her desire and need for him. They clung together in the doorway, heedless of Claudia being swept off her feet just behind them.

“No! She’s not ready!” shouted Principal Edwards, followed by something barked in a totally foreign tongue.

The two teens turned to watch as the alien hefted Claudia and impaled her on both organs before clutching her tightly to it. She screamed brokenly, body jerking, as alien slime mixed with bright red blood gushed from her cunt and ass. Zoe stared fixedly at the black poles disappearing inside her friend before Dean jerked her backwards and the door closed in her face.

Dean stared at the door, his face ashen, while Zoe tried to stroke his cock, creaming herself with desire for him. Her hands bled with scratches on the palms, but he didn’t seem to react. “Dean?” she moaned. “Baby, I need you so bad.”

“Zoe? Dean?” croaked a voice from the back of the room. It was Kevin, looking a bit battered, sitting on a bed with his arms fastened behind him and a sheet thrown over his body. Zoe followed reluctantly behind Dean, feeling like her nipples were going to burst.

Dean took the clipper from Zoe, who was astonished to realize she was still carrying it, and quickly cut the cable tie securing Kevin’s thumbs to the bed frame. Kevin cursed, working blood back into his pale thumbs, and flipped back the sheet. Zoe gaped as she looked down at a black cock identical to Dean’s.

“You look a lot more appetizing than that bitch, Claudia,” Kevin said, quickly regaining his sense of superiority and realizing where she was looking.

He sprayed her and Zoe’s arousal notched higher. She began panting, mouth dry, as her lower lips flowered wider, her anus loosened and her nearly empty bladder released a last squirt of urine.

“She’s mine, Harcourt!” snarled Dean, spraying her again. Zoe trembled on the brink of orgasm, unable to think of anything but sex and penetration and her need to be possessed and filled. She pushed Dean backwards onto the bed and threw herself atop him, heedless of his spines tearing the delicate flesh of her vagina.

The blonde arched her back, offering her ass to Kevin, who scrambled to accept. “Fucking right, that’s why they have more than one hole!” he exclaimed, burying himself in her tight rectum. Zoe orgasmed but the climax only wound her tighter, offering no relief.

Unlike her previous three-ways, there was no haphazard thrashing of bodies; the two boys held Zoe tightly between them while inside her their organs flowered open and the wickedly barbed penetrators extended and expanded themselves.

The penetration was savage, splitting open and ripping both her cunt and ass as the bug-cocks bottomed out inside her. Zoe had never taken objects so large (but nearly), or so fast (but nearly), or so painful (but nearly). The penetrators began to expand and contract repeatedly. Ichor that burned like napalm began to flood into her and Zoe passed into an orgasmic haze.

Dean cradled her head in his hands a bit longer. He admired the graceful lines of Zoe’s body and the way she arched her back to open herself more fully to the alien double penetration. He could feel her body trembling, and her tongue stud gleamed between her parted lips as she panted and moaned. Dean began shaking too as a burning cascade of orgasms racked his body, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Zoe.

The next thing Dean recalled was a swarm of hospital attendants around them, clad in glasses, masks, and gloves, slowly urging Kevin off of Zoe before removing her gently from Dean’s shaft.

Zoe’s eyes were glazed and sightless, a faint mewing and movement of her hips as they chased the departed intruders, the only signs that she was still alive. The blonde was moved carefully to a stretcher and straightened.

“Take good care of that one,” Edwards told the medical team as they started rolling their newest charge towards the hallway.

“We always do, sir,” one of the party replied.

Dean recognized Shefali, wearing a rebreather mask, as her concerned eyes took in his condition and she knelt beside him. He swayed, feeling dizzy. “What will happen to Zoe now?” he gasped. “Will she be okay?”

“To be honest,” the nurse replied, observing barest trickle of slime leaking from Dean’s penis, “we are not entirely sure. But we must worry about you for the moment. You are very dehydrated.” She handed a huge bottle to him, saying, “drink this.” He gulped it all, figuring it was pure urine, and noticed Kevin doing the same thing. He didn’t refuse when Shefali gave him a banana, and then a second bottle; while he drank, she inspected the bump on the side of his head.

Dean was feeling noticeably better after he finished. Shefali collected the empty bottles and peels, and left. He watched her ass as she walked away, and his balls surged and settled themselves. He looked up to see Principal Edwards gazing at him.

“Well, gentlemen, will you be staying enrolled at Hyde?”

“As long as Zoe’s okay and I can see her,” Dean answered defiantly.

“As long as I can keep exercising Mr. Jack-in-the-Box,” Kevin added with a mean laugh.

The principal nodded. “Good; we have an agreement, then. I think we have somebody here to see you.”

He walked out the door; a confused Joanne entered a moment later and the door closed, leaving the three of them alone.

The cheerleader was still wearing her black bikini from the previous night. “Kevin? Dean? What is this place? Like, what’s with your cocks?”

She smelled pretty good, if not quite as appetizing as Zoe, and Dean felt himself start oozing.

“Dibs,” pronounced Kevin, flaring himself to his full length until the barbs erected, glistening with slime. The girl screamed and began pounding on the door, looking over her shoulder at her former boyfriend.

Principal Edwards listened until the pounding stopped. He glanced down at the thumb drive, bouncing it in his hand, and turned to leave. At least it would make interesting reading, he mused; that girl did know how to write — unlike the idiotic cheerleader.

Epilogue

Emma Kincaid looked up at her roommate and laughed silently to herself as the other girl’s eyes dived back to the philosophy textbook propped on the bed in front of her. Emma’s interests focused strictly on young men, but the shapely beauty couldn’t resist subtly teasing her bookish friend once she’d noticed her straying eyes.

This evening, still damp from the shower, she leaned against the edge of the sink and carefully used her razor to scrape away a little more of the lotion surrounding the auburn landing strip above her bare pussy. It would have been just as easy, and more convenient, to do it in the shower, but then she couldn’t have watched the way Shefali tried not to watch her.

The other girl was a puzzle, no doubt about it, and Emma didn’t like puzzles. She’d been poking at this one for over a year and a half now. Shefali Killian had the darkest skin Emma had ever seen, the deep black of a moonless night, but she didn’t look Negroid. Her equally dark, slightly wavy hair felt to the middle of her back — when it wasn’t pinned up, like now — and never looked kinky.

When they’d met, Emma had asked if Shefali was an African name, and had been told shortly that it was Indian. The parents in the picture on the desk were clearly Caucasian. It was easy to guess she was adopted, even if Emma hadn’t heard of the ongoing adoption project for African girls that TRAINCO ran in Springfield. But it was a curiosity, no doubt about it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the party with me?” Emma asked again, wiping herself clean and inspecting her work. “You know there will be some cute boys there, and you’d drive them crazy.”

“No,” sighed Shefali, “I have to finish reading this chapter — again. It just doesn’t stay in my head.” She allowed herself another look at Emma’s lithe body. “Besides, you’d take all the good ones, anyway.”

The girl was exasperating, Emma thought. She studied like a fiend, which wasn’t exactly a bad attribute in a roommate; it had certainly helped Emma’s grades. But Shefali acted like some boy-shy prepubescent girl, which was so incongruous it drove Emma crazy.

For starters, Shefali’s trim body was so clearly built for sex it would have made Emma jealous, if she wasn’t so confident she herself had what boys wanted and knew how to share it with them. Shefali didn’t look at all like somebody who needed to watch her figure, and she didn’t make an issue of dieting, but she ate like a bird and spent most of the time guzzling some crappy energy drink. It made Emma’s bladder ache when she thought about it, and the once she’d tried one, she’d had to spit it out. Shefali had just laughed and agreed when Emma complained it tasted like piss! The spiffy TRAINCO sports bottle was nice, especially when she went jogging, but it stayed filled with water after that.

And that was another thing, Emma thought, as she shimmed a pair of skimpy panties up her long legs. For such a knockout, Shefali was incredibly shy. She didn’t wear frumpy clothes, far from it, but it was spring of their sophomore year and Emma didn’t think she’d ever seen her roommate naked. They borrowed clothing from each other from time to time, and Emma knew Shefali owned pretty underwear, but she practically never saw it. If you could get her to look at you when she spoke, you could see Shefali had a stud in her pierced tongue, and once Emma thought she’d maybe gotten a glimpse of a nipple stud, but she still wasn’t sure. To Emma’s mind, if you were going to do something like that, you’d want to flaunt it — like the tattoo she’d gotten around her arm last year on spring break.

But Shefali didn’t go on trips for spring break; she went home to her parents. She didn’t flaunt her body, or her piercings — whatever she had. If she went to a party, she’d nurse a drink in a corner and maybe talk sci-fi with somebody. More often, she lay on her bed in a sweatshirt and shorts, like now, and studied. She didn’t chase guys, or let the few who persisted in chasing her get any hint of interest. Emma had spent most of her freshman year thinking Shefali was a lesbian, but there was no indication she was interested in girls, either.

The current tease was sort of an outgrowth of that. What had started as subtle probing for curiosity’s sake had evolved to an unspoken detente where Emma didn’t admit she was going out of her way to titillate Shefali, and Shefali didn’t admit she paid any notice to Emma. It was a little harmless fun, where the auburn-haired vixen could strut her stuff in a safe environment without worrying about an overeager admirer taking things the wrong way.

Just now, she was at the top of her form. Emma sat on the end of her bed and slowly worked on the patterned thigh-high stockings she planned to wear that night. It was subtle, but there was nothing like a flash of the darker band beneath a dress or skirt to hold a guy’s attention. It took her several minutes to get them up and straightened properly, but Emma wryly noted she hadn’t heard Shefali turn a page the entire time.

Emma slipped on her heels to protect the hose from the floor and started blow-drying her hair. It was nice being young enough to get away with just good hair and a nice lipstick, she reflected, thinking of how long her mother would spend on her face before going out. The coed’s short auburn tresses, falling not much past her jaw line, didn’t take long to arrange.

It didn’t take much time after that for Emma to don her lace bra and put on the new dress she’d decided to wear. Shefali had given up on pretending to read and set her text aside, watching her roommate finish dressing.

“That bra doesn’t work, Em,” Shefali weighed in, just as Emma came to the same conclusion herself. The dress was quite sheer, requiring something underneath it, and Emma had thought when she purchased it her lingerie would be fine. Now that she saw the completed ensemble, the color was not quite right, verging on clashing, and the bra covered just a bit more than the dress did.

“Drat,” Emma complained, after twitching the dress failed to fix the coverage problem. Together with the color clash, it was unacceptable. She removed the dress and bra and tried the dress by itself. “What do you think, Shefali?”

Her roommate studied her closely, gesturing her to turn around, before standing up and walking over to examine Emma from a different angle. “Well, you certainly don’t need a bra, but I think the dress does. It’s kind of transparent, Em, and your nipples show through pretty clearly.” She thought about it minute and added, “I don’t think I’d go to a campus party wearing that.”

Emma bit her tongue, foregoing the obvious rejoinder that Shefali wouldn’t wear this dress anywhere, bra or not. In any case, she agreed. “I don’t know that I have anything,” she sighed, and began examining her lingerie drawer. The colored things were all wrong, her black lace bra had even more coverage than the rejected one, and her everyday things were too plain to be displayed the way the dress demanded.

“I don’t,” Emma cursed. “I spent all week looking forward to wearing this dress! Shefali, do you have anything I could borrow?” She looked hopefully at the black girl.

“Well,” Shefali said slowly, thinking, “it’d pretty much have to be black.” She ran a finger down the line of the dress across Emma’s bust, finished before the startled redhead could react. “This dress is cut pretty low, Em.” She considered a moment longer, until Emma was twitching with impatience. “It’s gotta be this dress, huh?”

“Please,” Emma nodded, looking hopeful, and brightened at her roommate’s resigned expression. “You have one?” She took a step toward Shefali’s dresser, only to be brought up short by the other girl’s outstretched arm.

“I’m wearing it,” Shefali sighed. “You’re pretty high-maintenance, Em.” She shrugged and pulled her sweatshirt over her head, catching her hair in the process so it tumbled down her back after she pulled it free.

Emma was torn between delight at getting the bra and curiosity at finally seeing her friend semi-nude. At first, it was difficult to see anything because the bra blended so seamlessly into Shefali’s dark skin. Then Shefali released the front clasp and Emma literally didn’t know where to look. The bra was stiff lace, very low cut, with an intricate butterfly pattern and transparent straps — just what Emma would have chosen.

Shefali’s breasts were high, firm mounds, but Emma already knew that. What she saw clearly for the first time were the ruddy nipples tipping them, each transfixed with a shiny barbell. The black girl’s torso and abs were as sleek and toned as her own.

“They’re just tits, Em. Are you going to try this on?” With a start, Emma realized she’d been staring. She unzipped the dress again and slid out of it, exchanging it for the bra. Now it was possible to admire it more closely, taking in the detail of the pattern, the lace trim, and Shefali’s faint scent on it.

“Nice perfume, Shefali,” Emma commented, pulling on the bra and fastening the clasp. “I might want to try some of it sometime.” She looked at herself in the mirror. “What do you think?”

The bra looked good, the pattern showing clearly against her lightly bronzed skin, and the lace trim just barely covered her nipples. “I think you’re not quite there.” Shefali set the dress on the bed and stepped up behind her, tugging slightly on the bra until it covered her areolas too. Her dark hands cupped Emma’s breasts, testing the fit, and then stroked the straps straight and smooth, adjusting their length just slightly. “Perfect.”

Emma was surprised to realize her nipples were hard against the lace, but Shefali had already stepped away to retrieve the dress. She stepped into it and let Shefali zip her up, already looking in the mirror again.

It was just perfect. A butterfly cradled each breast, clearly highlighting how little fabric was present, suggesting what must be there to be seen, but slyly managing to reveal nothing unfit for polite company. Emma couldn’t imagine ever wearing a different bra with this dress.

The only problem was that now it was clear her panties didn’t match the bra. “You have the bottoms too, right?” she asked, turning to Shefali.

Her roommate’s expression turned reluctant. “Em, I’m wearing them!”

Emma didn’t intend to be denied. “Oh, come on, Shefali! You had a shower this morning; all you did is sit in them all day. I don’t mind. Please?” She deployed her best pleading face. “Please, please, please, please? I’ll spend all day tomorrow studying p-chem with you!”

Shefali heaved a heavy sigh. ” ‘All day’ means at least 4 or 5 hours, right? And not starting after dinner?”

The redhead yipped her agreement with a small excited hop, and quickly reached under her dress to push down her unwanted panties.

Much more slowly, Shefali unfastened her shorts and slid them down her legs. Again, it was difficult for Emma to see much of the black panties against dark skin, but it was clear Shefali was completely clean-shaven. Emma caught just a hint of the intriguing dark coral hue of her cleft — and was that a metallic flash near the top?! — before Shefali pulled on her shorts again. “They’re wet,” Shefali admitted, handing over the bikinis.

Emma knew the other girl was blushing furiously, even if her skin was too dark to show it; her own face felt warm too. On impulse, she brought the panties to her nose, inhaling a heady scent of honeyed musk. Her head swam and Emma was shocked when she wet herself, a brief burst of urine splattering her abandoned underwear on the floor.

Shefali crouched in front of her, pushing her face into Emma’s crotch. Emma tried to push her away with one hand, but that impulse lasted about as long as it took her roommate’s studded tongue to tease her clit for the first time. After that, Emma was pulling Shefali into her and sucking on the soiled underwear in her hand between gasps.

“Oh, fuck, Shefali,” the redhead got out between breaths, “if I knew girls tasted like this” — she jerked — “I would have turned bi years ago!” A slick finger stroking her virgin anus in time with two others probing her pussy and continued attention to her aching clit teased Emma into a shuddering orgasm.

When she could trust her balance again, the redhead discarded the panties and reached down, drawing Shefali upwards by pulling on the studs embedded in her nipples. Shefali’s face gleamed with moisture and her eyes shone with passionate desire that Emma suspected reflected her own. The two girls kissed hungrily, grinding their bodies together.

“Don’t ruin your dress,” Shefali whispered when they came up for air.

With a gleam in her eye, Emma rejoined, “I’ll strip if you will,” and unzipped herself without waiting for a response. “What?” she asked when Shefali hesitated. A huge wet spot shone on the front of the black girl’s shorts. “Don’t chicken out on me now, Shefali; you’re the first girl I’ve let hit on me since elementary school!”

“You smell so good, Em, and I’m afraid to hurt you,” her roommate admitted, somewhat confusingly.

“I’m a big girl, and I can look after myself,” Emma proclaimed, stepping out of the dress and tossing it in the general direction of her bed. She backed Shefali up until she collapsed backwards onto the other bed, and then quickly stripped off the other girl’s shorts. A pop of the bra clasp and both girls were effectively naked; Emma knelt to examine Shefali more closely.

The dark skin was completely hairless, toned with muscle, and buttery soft. As Emma had thought, a stud nestled just above Shefali’s swollen clit, piercing the hood. The black girl’s labia had flowered open, the coral of her inner lips a vivid contrast to her skin. Everything was slicked with viscous feminine desire, smelling of musky honey that Emma realized came from Shefali herself instead of a perfume bottle.

The redhead leaned down, inhaling her roommate’s essence and preparing to taste her, when Shefali’s lips parted and something began bulging outwards. Emma jerked back with a surprised shriek, and a spray of something caught her in the face. She fell on her butt, wetting the floor as her bladder emptied itself, and stared at Shefali in aroused fascination.

Two flexible wands, about an inch in diameter and the same dusky coral as her lips, slowly emerged from Shefali’s glistening sex until they extended perhaps eight inches, arching up towards her navel and gleaming with a thick coating of iridescent slime. Shefali tensed and the organs suddenly swelled, doubling in diameter and sprouting spines like a blowfish before retreating, so that only the pulsing, dripping tips showed.

“I’ll try not to hurt you, Em,” Shefali panted as she stood up and helped her wide-eyed, mesmerized roommate to the bed.

Emma thought only about how much she craved the penetration that was coming and how beautiful and special Shefali’s cocks were.

She climaxed as they spread her open in both holes at once, again when they surpassed the greatest depth a boy had plumbed and began inflating inside her, and a third time when the spines extended, locking Shefali inside her as burning ichor began forcing itself into her spasming body. She barely noticed the pain.

The party was completely forgotten as the two young women spent the evening in feverish experimentation. Shefali introduced Emma to golden showers, both of them drinking until their bladders were filled to bursting before waiting impatiently to taste each other’s tart urine. They tried 69ing each other, with Emma sucking one penis and giving a hand job to the other; the spines were softer than they looked but she still nearly choked when the organ inflated in her throat. She assured Shefali she’d do better with practice.

When Shefali admitted she hadn’t lost her “girl virginity,” Emma scrambled to retrieve her vibrator from its hiding place. There didn’t seem to be room for a third occupant in that rose-colored pussy; Emma thought it might be possible, but every time Shefali started getting excited, her cocks extended and expanded, getting in the way.

Inspired by the feel of warm jelly leaking from her stretched back door, Emma tried inserting the vibrator into Shefali’s ass instead. Both of them were delighted with the results. As Emma pistoned her lover’s butt and stroked the clit ring, Shefali wailed and mauled her nipples. The cocks inflated hugely, looking like miniature cacti, and began fountaining thick slime into the air. It didn’t come in spurts, like Emma had seen from boys, but in continuous streams that arced halfway to the ceiling before falling back to Shefali’s tummy and the bed, and then Emma when she pulled them to divert the discharge onto herself.

The pizza delivery guy gaped at the girl who opened the dorm room door just before 1 AM. She glowed with that “just been fucked” look, her short auburn hair was matted with something unidentifiable, and her hard nipples thrust against the chemise — which was both inside-out and on backwards. The entire room reeked of sex. He tried to conceal his growing erection as he passed over the medium vegetarian pizza and a bag with six 2-liter bottles of diet Mountain Dew. He was still making change when the girl gasped and started pissing herself right in front of him. She slammed the door in his face, leaving him with a tip larger than the price of the order and a raging hard-on. That was one crazy chick, he thought, looking forward to finishing his shift and meeting his girl.

“Shefali!” Emma laughed, leaning against the closed door, “don’t do that!” Her hand had flown to her crotch by reflex, but now she was rubbing herself through the sodden material of her tap shorts. Shefali wore a set of Emma’s pajamas too, her nipple studs pressing against the thin fabric of the top, and her cocks probed the shorts, obscenely tenting their glistening crotch.

“I can’t help it, Em,” Shefali giggled, “just seeing you makes me want you more.” She backed the redhead up against the door and kissed her, tugging the shorts so she could extend through a leg hole to access Emma’s cunt. The angle was wrong and both organs wanted to enter the same hole, but the sensation of bristly pressure against her clit sparked Emma as she embraced her lover.

It was hard to believe, but in less than six hours, Emma felt as if she’d bonded with Shefali in some special way that would never be broken or duplicated. She looked deeply into the dark eyes facing her and saw the same devotion, love and desire she felt mirrored in them.

But whatever her heart and clitoris felt, her stomach reminded her it wanted something solid in it. “Let’s eat before the pizza gets cold.” The girls broke their embrace, and Emma collected the box from the desk by the door. “How in the world are we supposed to drink all of this soda?” she wondered, looking at the bottles rolling on the floor.

“We are not,” Shefali announced pompously, retrieving one of the bottles. “Watch this!” She opened it and, to Emma’s amazement, proceeded to drink steadily until the bottle was empty. A small burp punctuated the achievement. “I will suffer the pangs of artificial sweeteners. You are going to be drinking something much better.” She opened a second bottle and resumed drinking.

“How do you do that?” wondered the stunned coed as another two liters disappeared before her eyes. “Won’t that make you sick?”

“I’m fine,” Shefali assured her after another burp, “but the aftertaste is a little nasty.” She picked up a piece of pizza and delicately removed the mushrooms, placing them on Emma’s side. “I’m not like other girls, Em; Dr. Patel says my plumbing is a little different.”

Emma almost choked on her pizza at the magnitude of the understatement. “A little different? You’re a lot different, in a very good way,” she finished with a purr. “Could I look again, I mean without distractions?” she asked diffidently.

“I’ll try,” Shefali promised, and quickly shed her shorts. She sat back down with legs spread; looking intently at Emma, she slowly erected herself.

“You’re huge,” Emma exclaimed, admiring the delicate spines of the inflated organs and amazed once again she’d had both of them inside her simultaneously. She could feel herself juicing again at the thought of it.

“Never bigger than with you, Em,” Shefali admitted with an admiring look of her own. “But you should see my dad’s — he’s like twice as long, although he only has one!”

Emma’s mind stumbled on the statement and took a long moment to restart. “Your father? He has something like this? But I thought you were adopted…”

They both looked at the family picture atop Shefali’s desk. The trio looked so normal, except the daughter was so… black. “I never said that!” Shefali laughed. “It’s complicated, but those are my real biological parents, honest.”

The thought had been there much earlier, but it crystallized in Emma’s mind right then. She wasn’t going to Cancun for spring break; she was going to visit Springfield with Shefali and meet her parents. The mystery was irresistible, and Emma was a girl who didn’t like puzzles.

Just now, she had a more immediate puzzle on her mind. “Do you think you can fit both of them in my pussy at once?”