CRAZY FRIGHTENING SCARY CHICK


Her name was Andrea, she was a Freshman at my high school, just one year younger than I was. She was about five feet six inches tall, as opposed to my five feet and eight inches of moderate height. Her hair was shoulder-length, and a beautiful dark brown in color. Her eyes were green, and always gave the impression that she was looking straight through you, rather than at you, and most of the time, she was.

I was a fairly unimpressive specimen of a high school boy. Short black hair, brown eyes, and a thin build, lacking any muscle. In spite of my false bravado and sarcastic wit, I was, and still am, a very timid, shy, and easily intimidated person. I never quite knew what made me so weak, but when someone (particularly a girl) yelled at me or made a demand, I always felt threatened and compelled to obey them.

Andrea and I never got along. The only reason we ever spent time together was because we were in the same first period math class, and my desk was directly in front of her's. We rarely spoke, I being very quiet and shy, and her being very quiet but also very vindictive and mean to everyone around her. She seemed to derive some sick pleasure in insulting, demeaning, and otherwise harming those around her for no apparent reason, so I tried to stay as far away from her as possible. That is, until one day, when my friend Dave had an idea. "Hey Mike," Dave said, turning to me, "I just got a great idea to piss of Andrea." "Piss off the Crazy Frightening Scary Chick," I replied, "not a good idea man. Did you hear about what she did to that guy she caught staring at her ass." "So," Dave shot back, "at least he got prescribed pain pills. And come on, this will be fucking hilarious." "Okay okay," I conceded, inwardly cursing myself for agreeing with him, "but you're taking the fall for... what was your idea anyway?" "Nothing big," Dave said, "I'm just going to take this sticky note, write Crazy Frightening Scary Chick on it, and stick it on her desk." "That's it," I laughed, "and you had me worked up for nothing. Do it dude, that would be pretty funny."

Grinning broadly with the semi-genius of his plan, Dave took a small square of paper with an adhesive backing, wrote "Crazy Frightening Scary Chick" on it, and stuck it to Andrea's desk. With a wicked sneer, he turned to face the front of the room, preparing for class, and pretending as though he had not just done something incriminating. I too turned toward the chalk board and waited for our algebra teacher to drone endlessly about factoring polynomials, which of course I would completely tune out, and consequently fail this weeks test.

My body tensed when I heard the familiar sound of Andrea's boots on the tile floor behind me. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She wore her usual steal-toed boots, blue jeans, and a black, sleeveless shirt that was cut off just above her stomach (a clear violation of our school's dress-code.) She took her seat behind me, and picked up the sticky note just as the teacher, Mrs. Robinson, walked into the room. "Andrea," Mrs. Robinson snapped, "no reading notes in class. "The bell hasn't rung yet." Andrea said indignantly, but was drowned out by the ringing of the bell signaling the beginning of class. "It has now," Mrs. Robinson said with a smirk, "now hand me that note, I will read it to the class,. Rules are rules," she added, snatching the note, "and you are no exception."

Mrs. Robinson marched briskly to the front of the room, holding Andrea's note like some sort of important document. She moved to the front of the room, glanced at the note, and then back at the class. "Well boys and girls," she spoke within condescending tone, "it seems that either one of you has found an apt nickname for Andrea, or should I say, Crazy Frightening Scary Chick.

The class's reaction was one that would be expected from people of our maturity level. They burst into peals of laughter, pointing at Andrea and jeering, some of them even pretending to quake in terror of the, "Crazy Frightening Scary Chick". Andrea looked composed, as if none of this were phasing her in the slightest. But I was close enough to hear her breathing through clenched teeth, and angrily drumming her fingers on the underside of her desk. Once the class had settled down and Mrs. Robinson had passed up our worksheets, Andrea leaned forward and addressed me. "You wrote that didn't you, you little bastard." She snapped, so close to my ear I was afraid she may bite it off, unintentionally or otherwise. "No, no," I stammered nervously, "it, it wasn't me. It was Dave." "Yeah right," she said, "so why do you have a packet of sticky notes on your desk." "But I..." I trailed off as I saw the little bundle of paper squares resting on the corner of my desk.

I glanced over at Dave, who gave a small, sheepish shake of his head, and then turned away. Andrea reached forward and placed her hands on my shoulders, and began to massage them firmly. Though this seemed like a friendly action, I could feel a tight, bottled up rage in her grasp, as though she had no intention of releasing me from her grasp. I flinched nervously, and she squeezed my shoulders tightly, hard enough to make me let out a startled gasp of pain.

When the bell rang at the end of the period, I quickly and forcefully shrugged off her hands, then bolted for the door. I spent the rest of the school day carefully avoiding Andrea, hoping that she would forget about me, and generally trying to blend in with the background more than usual. But as fate would have it, I found myself wondering past the girls' locker room after my athletics class was over, on my way to change out of my gym clothes. Andrea and I shared this period, but as it was split into boys and girls athletics, we didn't have any contact, which was fine was me.

As I walked past the girls' locker room, exhausted from running ten laps around the track, I heard someone call my name. I looked around and saw a girl standing at the locker room door. The girls had been in the gym, lifting weights today, so they had already showered and changed back into their normal clothes. With little foresight, I walked over to the locker to see what this girl wanted. "Hey Mike," she said, "come in here really quick, I got something to show #.was "What is it?" "Just get in here before someone sees."

She motioned me into the elongated room, lit by several fluorescent lights. As I walked into the room, rejoicing in the cool air-conditioning, she shut and locked the door behind me. I tensed apprehensively, only moments before a hand was placed firmly over my mouth. I struggled as my hands were pulled firmly behind my back, and tied tightly with what I assumed was a plastic zip-tie. The hand lifted from my mouth, only to be replaced by a wad of cloth, that was secured firmly by a knot tied behind my head. The girl stepped out in front of me and smiled at her handiwork, eyeing me up in down with a hungry expression.

Suddenly Andrea emerged from behind me as well, holding a bag small black cloth bag. She smiled maliciously and ran her fingernails down my chest, making me shiver and attempt to retreat. Seeing this, Andrea stooped and affixed another zip-tie around my ankles, causing me to lose my balance and fall forward, directly into her arms. Andrea pulled me closer to her, cradling my head against her breasts. "You're mine," she said, looking down at me, "and now you're going to really learn why I'm a Crazy Frightening Scary Chick."

With that, she reached again into her bag and produced a knife. I would have screamed if I could, but the makeshift gag muffled my cries for help. I began to squirm desperately, trying as hard as possible to escape. Andrea's friend pushed me to the ground and held me firmly in place by sitting on my chest. "Thanks Shelly." Andrea said.

Andrea knelt next to me and began to skillfully make incisions into my clothing, careful not to even scratch the surface of my skin. Within a minute, Shelly stood up, and all of my cloths (shorts, shirt, and even underwear) fell away from my body in pieces, leaving me naked before the two girls. Andrea reached down to my feet and removed my shoes and socks, then playfully tickled the soles of my feet with her right hand. Instantly I reacted, pulling my feet away from her devious fingers, and pulled my knees up to my chest. Andrea and Shelly cackled with laughter, and instantly sprang on me and began to tickle me all over. My wild laughter was stifled by the gag, and tears ran from my eyes as there fingers traveled all across my bare skin. I began to shake uncontrollably as the torture escalated to such a great apex, that I found it difficult, almost impossible, to breath.

After about five minutes, my torment reseeded, and the two girls sat and watched as I twitched on the floor, my skin still sensitive from the intense tickling I'd just been given. Andrea then sat down, straddling my waist, and looked down into my face. I tried to break eye contacted, but her piercing green eyes followed every move I made, and her full, red lips curled into an evil smile. "This is just the beginning," she said, "Shelly and I are going to take you back to my house and have some fun with you." "Yeah," Shelly chimed in, "her parents are away on vacation, so we have the house to ourselves." "And you're all ours." Andrea said.

Andrea then stood up and left the room, shutting the door behind her, and leaving me alone with Shelly. Shelly was a Freshman too, I'd seen her and Andrea hanging out together around school. She was a blonde girl with blue eyes, and was about my height. Like Andrea she was a fairly athletic girl, and considered herself superior to everyone in her immediate vicinity. I squirmed in my bindings and Shelly laughed with amusement. "You're a cute one," she said, "Andrea and I are going to have some fun with you, once she gets back with the car. We're going to make you scream."

I heard the low rumble of a motor outside, followed by a car door opening. With a flurry of movement, a combination of speed and careful stealth, Andrea and Shelly dragged me from the locker room, and threw me into the backseat of the vehicle parked just outside the door. Andrea climbed into the back seat, forcing me onto the floorboard, and shut the door. Shelly sat in the driver's seat and pressed the accelerator, and within moments we were off the campus and streaking away toward Andrea's home. Andrea reached down and removed the gag from my mouth, which she revealed to be her bra, freeing me to speak once again. "Please," I begged, "don't do this to me, you can't do this to me. I'm sorry Andrea, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry." "Too late for sorry," she replied harshly, "I'm going to make you repay me, and I'm going to have fun doing it." "I'll do anything, just let me go." I pleaded. "You'll do anything whether we let you go or not."

I began to scream, hoping I could attract someone's attention. But Andrea had already planned ahead for this. Quickly she kicked off her boots, and firmly placed her bare feet over my face. Her feet were creamy and soft, delicate looking, with red painted toenails. She moved her right foot back, and forced her toes into my mouth. They didn't taste unpleasant, nor did her feet smell bad. They were sweet and fragrant, and I inadvertently found my tongue lapping across her bare toes. She leaned back contentedly as I licked her toes, and I began to give up all form of protest, no longer straining at my bindings or trying to push her feet from my mouth. Had I known what was in store for me, I would have been tearing at the zip-ties, and screaming my lungs out. But I would find out soon enough''

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