Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Dee Does HS 22[DF1] by Peregrinf

   With a good bit of giggling and tickling and poking and pushing all
three of us crammed in the front of Kathy's beloved old minivan, better
known for its exotic paint job as the Art Mobile.  I hiked up my dress and
crawled to the center, mooning everyone in the parking lot in the process,
and planted my naked butt on the center console, straddling the
stick-shift. Greg took shotgun, thoughtfully draping his left arm around my
shoulders so his hand could keep my tit warm.  Then he got all friendly
with my naked hip trying to latch his safety belt.  I didn't have one, but
I figured we were wedged in so tightly that the airbags going off would
either open the mini-van like a can of biscuits or stuff all three of us
into the back.  When Kathy started the motor the shift lever slapped around
between my naked thighs, making me gasp.  When she went for reverse the
shift split my twat and crushed my clit.  I almost went right through the
roof.  That shift shaft was COLD!

   Kathy grinned at me, giving the lever an additional tug to make sure it
was engaged.  "Sorry."

   "Woo HOO!  I'm not!" I answered, the vibrations stirring me into a froth
as she backed up.

   "Hey, I can't compete with a rod like that!" Greg complained.

   "Who sez?" My right hand found the ridge of his hard-on, making sure he
was also properly engaged.  There was a distinct wet spot where the tip of
his prod was trying to drill its way out of his pants.  I gave it a pat and
started working on his fly.  "Poor baby.  You've been hiding in there all
night.  Here, I'll let you out to play."

   "Now I'm jealous," Kathy complained so I obediently burrowed the fingers
of my left hand in her humid crotch.  I already knew she was without
panties.  During the dance we'd all been most accommodating during our
under-the-table explorations, but they'd zipped up before we left.  I, of
course, had no fly to zip.

   Now I wrapped my hand around Greg's cock, which was standing up in his
lap like a second stick shift, and dug deep into Kathy's pussy.  Lacking a
safety belt, I decided to hold on to both of them for dear life.  They
didn't seem to mind, but when we lurched to a stop at the exit Greg winced
and Kathy let out a whoop of her own.

   "Easy down there or I'll wreck us!  Where are we going?"

   "Head toward Greg's," I answered, working with both hands to keep their
engines running.  "I'll direct you from there."

   "To where?" he asked.

   "Paradise."

   His left arm was still wrapped around my neck so he could play with my
tits.  With the Art Mobile in third the shift was out of the way so his
right hand occupied my swampy crotch and he proceeded to insert two fingers
into my slot.  When Kathy shifted into fourth the lever drove his fingers
even deeper, sending the transmission's vibes straight to my G spot.  I
thought Wow!  This could be habit forming.

   Fifteen minutes and several exciting and probably unnecessary shifts
later -- I sent us around a couple of extra blocks so I could enjoy them --
I had Kathy turn into Elaine's driveway.

   "Where are we?" Greg asked as he extracted his soggy hand from me and
licked his fingers.

   I guess that's why he calls me his sweetie pie.

   "My soon to be new home," I answered.  The porch light was on, the rest
of the house dark.

   Kathy and Greg looked at me, and I explained my life changes as I nudged
Greg to get out of the car.  As I untangled myself I almost wound up
fucking the shifter.  Oooo that knob looked interesting!  I could only
think that with the motor running it would be a heckuva vibrator.  I
wondered if the owners' manual included safe sex instructions.  I could
just see it -- use a sanitary wipe or condom before inserting knob in cunt.


   Someday I was gonna try that!

   A wiggle of my hips and my dress slithered back into place as I led the
way up the front walk, un-slinging my purse and digging out the key.  When
I unlocked the door and flipped on the inside light the first thing we saw
was a banner.

   WELCOME HOME DEE!

   That gave me a thrill!  My new home!

   "The house is ours for tonight," I explained, "within limits.  Elaine is
home with Mom.  They're on call if we need them."

   "I think we'll be just fine by ourselves," Greg assured me, closing the
front door and snapping the dead-bolt before moving up behind me.  His hand
went to the base of my spine and I felt the buzz of the dress's short
zipper going down between my butt-cheeks.  During one slow dance he'd done
it so he could explore my ass, but I'd made him zip it back up.  Now his
breath was hot on my neck and I wasn't about to discourage him as his
finger played in my crack.

   My purse hit the floor with a thump as I tilted my head so his lips
could nibble at the side of my throat, his tongue teasing the dangling ruby
earring, making my sore lobe throb while delicious shivers swept through my
whole body.  Not about to be left out, Kathy mounted a frontal assault,
pushing the dress off my shoulders, baring my breasts.  Gravity took over,
the dress slithering down my long legs to puddle around my ankles. 
Stepping out of it and my shoes left me nude, except for my jewelry.  I
felt wickedly decadent.

   Greg's jacket went flying in one direction, his clip-on bow tie in
another, his cummerbund in a third as I worked on Kathy's shirt buttons. 
By the time Greg's shirt had followed his jacket and he was working on his
pants I had Kathy's top back off her shoulders, the cufflinks loose so she
could get her arms out of the sleeves, baring her to her waist.

   I took possession of her soft, warm breasts, pinching her nipples while
she was unfastening her slacks to let them fall.  Just like that she was as
naked as I was and we embraced, hot satin skin to hot satin skin, lips to
lips, tongues to tongues.  My hands were roaming up and down her well
muscled back, her skin so soft and smooth, feeling her angel bones, tracing
the line of her spine down to the cleft of her ass, her breasts warm
cushions against my modestly developed chest.

   Greg was behind me, just as naked, noshing on the side of my neck, his
hard cock at my ass, his hands gripping my hips.  We'd had hours of
foreplay at the dance and all three of us were more than ready.  We sank
slowly to the parquet floor just inside the front door.  Clinging to Kathy,
I kissed and licked my way down her, my hands squeezing her firm boobs to
make them stick up more, nipping at her upstanding nipples, then licking
lower on her torso as she stretched out on her back, spreading her legs
wide.

   Leaning lower, I deliberately offered Greg my ass, my aroused twat
begging to be penetrated.  As I dove face first into Kathy's juicy crotch
he proceeded to shove his cock deep into my hungry cunt, stuffing me
deliciously full with one smooth thrust.  Reaching around me his hands
captured my breasts, pinching and twisting my nipples as he cuddled against
my back.  Kathy jammed her crotch up in my face so I sent my tongue
wriggling as deep inside her as it would reach, slurping up her sweet
juices.  With my nose buried in the top edge of her slit I was engulfed in
her horny scent.

   Greg let go of my breasts and slid his hands down my torso to dig into
my crotch to fondle my pussy, twiddling my clit while fucking me
mercilessly.  Kathy's hands pulled my face into her cunt while I grabbed
her strong ass, my fingers digging deep in her butt crack.

   There was no chance of holding back the tide.  Greg was hunched over me,
a stud covering his willing bitch, driving hard into me, his hands playing
a mad tune on my slippery folds, teasing my piss hole, diddling my clit.  I
was devouring Kathy's musky twat, drowning in her fluids.

   The only sounds in the empty house were our moans and the sticky
slurping sounds of carnal love.  I shuddered, my mouth still working on
Kathy's clit, fingers playing with both Kathy's cunt and her anus.  Her
hands on the back of my head shoved my face even harder into her crotch. 
Drinking from her gushing twat I felt my own orgasm rising like a tsunami.
Her body tensed, her tummy muscles rippling, cunt clenching as she came and
that was all it took to set off my own coming.  At the same time Greg tried
to run me through with his cock, thick hot spurts of his jizz flooding me,
his hands clamped hard on my hips so I couldn't escape his thrust.

   As if I wanted to!  I felt his overflow spilling from me to splatter
down on cold, hard floor.

   Memo to self: mop the floor.

   For a too-short eternity we strained against each other before finally
collapsing, panting and drained.  I slithered up along Kathy's body, my way
well greased by sweat and come, to lie on top of her, Greg riding my back.
We lay on the floor, a gooey, panting sandwich of come coated flesh, Kathy
caressing my face, Greg hugging us both, his withering dick drooling on my
ass.

   For a long time we just lay there, breathing in unison, then someone
gave a sudden twitch and I realized I'd actually dozed off for a minute. 
With a groan Kathy stirred, toppling me and Greg to one side.  Rolling on
my back between them I shared Kathy's juices around with sloppy kisses. 
Snuggled between them it hardly seemed fair that I should be the center of
their attention when they meant so much to me.  But then I thought, maybe
I'd given as good as I'd got.  I hugged them both fiercely, doing my best
to share the afterglow, kissing first one then the other, murmuring sweet
nothings to them both.

   "Hungry," Greg finally grunted, and I realized my own stomach was
protesting mightily.  Peanuts and punch weren't enough to sustain this much
fun.

   "Food in fridge," I answered as we struggled to get untangled.  The
rubies tugging painfully at my recently pierced earlobes reminded me to
grab my purse so I could switch to the studs that were in it.  Leaving our
discarded clothes behind we shambled naked into the kitchen and sat around
the table, scarfing down the goodies Elaine had thoughtfully left for us,
getting all sloppy so we could lick it off each other.  With Kathy's help I
managed to get rid of the rubies while I was mentally thanking Heather for
making me the belle of the ball.

   "How soon are you moving in here?" Kathy asked, sucking pizza grease and
tomato sauce off her fingers while Greg nuked three more slices.

   "We're not sure.  Mom's got to get the house ready to be listed, and
there's a bunch of junk to pack and move."

   "We can use the Art Mobile," she offered.

   "I'll help with muscle," Greg added.

   I looked at them, my eyes stinging, "Thanks, guys.  You're the
greatest."

   "Now she's going to get all mushy on us," Kathy teased.

   "I like mush," Greg argued.  "So, do we get a tour?"

   After tidying the kitchen I showed them around.  My first impression had
been it was a mansion compared to where I lived, but I revised that
downwards as I showed them around.  Sure, it felt big compared to what I
was used to, a two-story box, according to Mom built in the 1940s.  This
was a split-level from the '70s, the living room, kitchen, dining room on
one level.  Flipping the proper switch next to the sliding back doors
turned on the pool's underwater lights, making it glow like a giant
sapphire in the night.  Too tempting to pass up, we splashed right in, our
submerged bodies a wavery pale green as we sluiced off the juices and
indulged in a bit of aquatic snuggling.  Warm skin in a cool pool feels
incredibly sexy.

   Elaine had thought of everything.  There was a pile of soft towels
waiting for us beside the door.  Drying off, we made our way back inside
the house to continue the tour, back to the entrance hall where the
split-level began.

   "What's down there?" Kathy asked when I led them past the short flight
of steps to the lower level.

   "Playroom," I answered.  "It's off limits tonight."

   In my head I translated that as "for mature participants only," though I
had a pretty good idea about some of what was in there.

   "Ooooo, sounds tantalizing," Greg said lecherously.

   "I'm more interested in the bedroom," Kathy responded as we headed up.

   "So'm I!" I agreed, taking Greg by his dick so he wouldn't stray.  It's
nice that men come with a handle.  It makes it easy for us to steer them.

   Upstairs there were four bedrooms and two full baths.

   "Elaine said we can use the master bedroom, but we have to change the
sheets in the morning, whether they need it or not."

   "They will," Greg promised as we poked our heads into what was going to
be my room.

   "You men," Kathy snorted.  "All you think of is sex."

   Back in the hall I giggled, wrapping an arm around her waist so we were
hip-to-hip.  Naked skin just demands touching.  "And you don't?"

   "Well, yeah, I do," she admitted, "especially when I'm around you, or
Steph."

   "You miss her, don't you." I gave her an extra squeeze.  I didn't mind
that I wasn't her first love.

   "Yeah, I do.  Oh wow!  Look at this!"

   "This" was the only bedroom really ready for use.  Elaine had customized
and furnished it to her specifications.  Most of it was occupied by a
king-sized bed under a section of dropped ceiling.  As we cleared away the
spread and sprawled out I didn't point out the decoratively camouflaged
anchor points on the head and foot boards.  However, nothing could hide the
overhead mirror with its surrounding track lights.

   "This is pretty neat," Greg commented, playing with a remote that
controlled practically everything in the room, including gauzy curtains
that swept around the bed to turn it into a cozy refuge.

   Leaving the curtains open, he dialed down the ceiling lights, dialed up
the track lights, and there we were, reflected in the overhead mirror, all
naked skin, breasts and nipples, cunts and cock on display.  I slipped my
arms under their necks and drew them into a snuggle.  They rolled toward me
and it was wonderful, feeling them against me, watching as Kathy played
with my tits and Greg groped my pussy, his cock slowly expanding in my
hand.

   "Your moms are pretty cool, letting us use this," Greg observed.

   "They're the best," I agreed.

   "They're kinky," Kathy pointed out.

   I shivered a little, remembering the Sunday in the park.  "Sometimes
Elaine gets a little carried away," I admitted.

   "She's a dom."

   I nodded.  "Usually, but I think they switch sometimes."

   Kathy relinquished her grip on my boob to roll over and check out the
bedside table.  "I wonder what's in here.  I bet they've got some
interesting toys."

   My moms hadn't said anything about keeping out of there, so I didn't
worry about her burrowing into the drawer.  It was so cool, watching
myself, my free hand playing with Greg's hard cock.  His meat was so hot,
the skin soft over the hard core, the head spongy.  I spread a glittering
blob of pre-come around, making him all slippery and very appetizing.  I
wished I could figure out a way to watch myself sucking it.  There was a
flat-screen on the wall at the foot of the bed.  A web cam came to mind,
and I wondered if Elaine had thought of that.

   "Look at this!" Kathy held up a double-ended dildo bigger around than
Greg's dork and probably three times as long, with a section in the middle
that let her bend it into a horse-shoe shape.  "There's lube, too."

   Greg's finger was exploring my eagerly salivating pussy.  I purred, my
hips beginning to hump a little.  In the mirror we watched Kathy lube up
one end of the toy, spread her legs and begin slowly working it into
herself, the lips of her cunt straining around its bulk.  God, that was
totally hot!  Once she had it sunk all the way in she lay back, holding the
free end straight up, a monster fake cock jutting up from her groin.

   "How do I look?"

   "Horny," Greg answered.

   "Ready to fuck," I added, my twat giving a hungry twitch.

   "Isn't that what I said?  " Greg asked.  "But this is my hole," he
added, working a second finger into my pussy.

   I was entertaining incredibly wicked thoughts.  I squeezed his dick.  "I
do have other openings available," I pointed out with a perverted giggle.

   "Huh?" Greg said innocently.

   Kathy knew exactly what I was thinking.  "You are a total perv!"

   "Takes one to know one," I retorted.

   "Guilty as charged," she agreed easily, using both hands to fuck herself
with the dildo.  "You wanna use the other end of this in door number one? "


   "I'd love to," I admitted.  "It looks a bit big for door number two."

   "Hey, what about me?" Greg asked, obviously not following Kathy's and my
train of thought.

   "Don't worry, you get door number two!  Just follow my lead -- or
rather, my tail -- and you'll be well on your way to being just as much a
perv as I am," I explained, turning my head to give him a juicy, very
suggestive kiss without disturbing my grip on his cock or his hand on my
pussy.

   We were playing a wicked game, of course, teasing ourselves to peak
horniness.  Kathy and I knew damn well what we were leading up to, and Greg
was catching on.  I could feel his cock getting even harder while we
watched Kathy fondling the fake cock jutting from her crotch.  Bringing her
legs up toward her shoulders, she let us see her finger tickling the dusky
pucker of her own asshole.

   That, along with the sight of Kathy's plastic prick and Greg's fleshy
one had my body preparing itself for their dual assault.  I gave Greg's
cock a reassuring squeeze.

   "I've got just the place for this," I told him, my voice husky with
lust. Reaching down with my other hand I drew his fingers out of my pussy
and guided them further back to scratch my itching asshole.  "Back here."

   "You'll need this," Kathy pointed out, putting the tube of lube on my
tummy after coating the half of the prod she was offering me.

   "Lemme mount up on Kathy," I told Greg, handing him the lubricant. 
"Then use this on your cock and my ass."

   "You sure?"

   "Oh yeah," I assured him, rolling over and getting up on my knees to
straddle Kathy.

   As much as we'd already done, this was new territory for him, but he was
a willing pupil.  Reaching down, I guided the dildo to my cunt and gingerly
worked my way down on it before I lay forward on Kathy.  It was so big,
cool at first, making my cunt clutch at it until it warmed it up.  Kathy
and I were face to face.

   "Hi," she greeted me softly.

   "Hi." We kissed.  "I love you."

   "And I love you," she assured me.

   I squirmed happily on top of her before lifting my head to look at Greg.
"I love you, too, Greg.  Now hurry up with that lube.  "

   Still a bit dubious, Greg got to his knees.  "I don't want to hurt you."


   "Trust me, you won't." I was already panting a little.  Shit!  I
couldn't watch in the mirror!  Fuck!  Maybe next time I'd figure out a way
to be on the bottom.

   "You've done this before?"

   "There isn't much I haven't done before," I answered vaguely.  After
all, I had been buggered by my own brother while he ate his GF out --
compensation, they'd called it for some debt I'd owed.  I was also
remembering the sweet pain of the big butt plug Judy Liu had stuffed into
me at her sleepover.  A double penetration, or DP, was a first for me, but
I didn't tell him that.  I'd seen it done in a dirty video.  It had
probably carried a warning, something like "these are trained
professionals, on a closed course, don't try this at home yada yada yada."

   Like I was going to let that stop me!

   "Like this?" he asked, poking timidly at my bung.

   "Don't be prissy.  Put lots of that goop on your longest finger and work
it into me, real deep.  Then use two fingers to get me to loosen up a bit,"
I instructed.  "The only rule to remember is that anything that's been up
my ass does NOT go in anywhere else before being thoroughly washed."

   Encouraged, he got bolder about greasing up my shit-chute.

   "Oooooyeah!  Stick 'em in deep as you can reach, and twist 'em around,"
I said with a gasp.  "Shit that feels good.  Can you feel Kathy in me from
the front?"

   "It feels so tight!  You think I'll fit?"

   "We'll manage.  I bet you'll love how tight it is.  Oh, that feels so
good with Kathy stuffing my pussy and your fingers in my ass.  I want more!
Grease your cock up good, and go for it," I ordered.  "Don't be bashful."

   As if he could be, after all this build-up!  I felt a warm nudge at my
back door and did my best to open it for him.  "Ahhhhh yes, push hard --
harder." I groaned in joy as he wedged my sphincter open.  "Yes, yes, yes.
Push, push, push!"

   "It's tight!"

   Oh shit!  It began to sting -- a good sting -- as he stretched me with
his cock.  "It's s'posed to be tight.  Oh god that feels good."

   "Oh, Dee," Kathy groaned, her hips working, the dildo stirring in her
cunt and mine.  I kissed her hungrily as Greg slowly worked his cock into
my back door.  I felt more and more full as he slipped it in, my sphincter
clutching at it.

   He was grunting with the effort.  "Jeez!  It's different.  It's like hot
velvet in there!"

   "So full!" I gasped.  "I'm so full!"

   "I'm only halfway in!"

   "All the way, Greg!  All the way!  Oh shit!  Shit, shit, shit!  Fuck me!
Both of you, fuck the shit out of me!  Lemme have it!  Ohshit, I love you
both so much!"

   Getting into the spirit of things, Greg buried the full length of his
cock in my ass, his hips jammed against my butt, while Kathy kept humping
her tool deep in my pussy, our clits and tits getting crushed between us,
along with the barrier between my cunt and asshole.  Jesus it felt good. 
Squashed like a bug between them I could barely wriggle but it didn't
matter.  Greg was fucking my ass, slow short strokes at first, steadily
getting longer, faster, harder.  I was clutching at Kathy, trying not to
claw her as she humped the dildo up into me, stirring it in her own pussy
as she did.  Her arms were around both Greg and me, clutching us together
like iron bands.  Her hips and mine were all we could move, working against
each other, but it was enough.  I took everything they had to offer, and
did my best to smother Kathy with my kisses while Greg was now ruthlessly
humping my butt, his breath panting hot in my ear, and I was getting closer
and closer to coming -- and coming -- and coming

   OHSHIT!  Suddenly Greg was stuffed full depth in me, his cock giving me
a hot come enema, while under me Kathy's pelvis was grinding and grinding
against mine, hard, and she was trying to suck my tongue out of my head,
and both of them were coming like volcanoes.

   Meanwhile I was blazing like a campfire, melting from my own orgasm.  I
was a Hershey bar between graham crackers, Greg's come the sweet molten
marshmallow filling of our carnal s'more, to strain a vulgar metaphor
beyond all reasonable limits.  My rectum milked him dry while my cunt
clutched and clutched at Kathy's dildo.  I wriggled as best I could to get
it to stir in her pussy and mine until finally all three of us went limp
with exhaustion.

   Eventually my body rebelled and crapped out Greg's shrinking pecker and
he rolled off me.  Aching, I lifted myself off Kathy's untiring dildo so I
could pull it out of her and drop it on the floor by the bed.  This time we
had Kathy in the middle for a long, loving snuggle.  She didn't seem to
mind Greg playing with one of her tits while I held the other.  She combed
my sexy new do with gentle fingers.

   Finally, struggling to stay awake, we staggered into the master bath to
shower away the fruits of our debauchery before shambling back to bed. 
Fortunately it was big enough we could pretty much avoid the sodden patch.
Greg dialed down the lights and I cuddled him while Kathy spooned against
my back.

   And yes, in the morning, after breakfast, we changed the sheets.  I also
remembered to sponge up the evidence from the entryway -- the word
"copious" came to mind -- before we headed out.  I don't know what Greg
told his family, or Kathy hers, but my moms got the uncensored version. 
Their own sheets were already in the drier by the time I got home, and Mom
was moving carefully, so I didn't need to ask how their night had been.  I
slept most of Sunday, except for homework and getting organized for my
committee meeting the next afternoon.

   * * *

   "Madam Chairman, before you formally open the meeting I have two
announcements I'd like to make."

   I'd expected Mrs.  Devers would have something to say and politely
yielded the floor to her, wondering what she had up her sleeve this time.
Not that she had a sleeve.  None of us had sleeves on, or anything else. 
I'd set the dress code by doffing my duds at the door as a symbolic gesture
and the others had followed suit -- or should that be "un-suit?"

   Sorry, after the weekend I was still a little giddy.

   Sitting at the head of the conference table I had already organized the
papers in front of me while the others had been chatting, Mike and 'Retta
playing table hockey using pencils and the cap off a water bottle.  It
being the second time I chaired the committee, and this time being prepared
for it, I was more confident.  But that was before Mrs.  Devers dropped her
bombshells.

   "We have two issues," she announced.  "They don't need to be formally
taken up by the committee, but they both bear on The Program, and they're
both related."

   She took a deep breath, and all I could think was, damn she looked good!
I'd hesitate to use the term "girlish" to describe breasts that had suckled
two children, but hers were that firm, with only a little more sag than
Kathy's boobs, and her nipples could only be described as succulent.  Lucky
kids, too young to appreciate it.  Well, actually, I suppose they did, but
not the way I would.

   Pay attention to what she's saying, not her tits!  The Stick reminded me
sternly.  You had your fun over the weekend.  Now it's time to get serious.


   Yes'm, I thought back at her.

   "While we and the authorities have tried to keep a lid on the arrest of
our former Program Coordinator, naturally there have been rumors, to put it
mildly," Mrs.  Devers began.  "We'd hoped they'd die down, but they
haven't."

   Heather and I exchanged a look at the mention of the Worm.  If we'd
known what was coming we both might have dived under the table

   "Unfortunately, this is stirring up some old problems.  While community
support for The Program has generally been good, there have always been
those who would like nothing more than for it to go away.  Certain
religious organizations are uncomfortable, to put it mildly, and not all
parents are supportive of their children walking the halls naked, or seeing
others in that state.  Some, those that can afford it, have taken to
home-schooling them or chosen private institutions.  But that doesn't stop
them, and others, from raising hell at every school board meeting. 
Worthington's arrest has only given them more ammunition.

   "We can expect demonstrations, and more attention.  While the survival
of The Program is not your responsibility, I felt you'd want to be aware of
what's happening."

   I joined the others in nodding in agreement.  I was remembering the
anonymous phone calls I'd gotten.  There'd been more than one.  I could see
this whole thing turning into a really ugly mess.  When The Program was
first put in place there had been protests.  Over time they'd faded, but I
bet the picket signs were being polished up for another turn.

   Mrs.  Devers may have said it wasn't our worry but my mind immediately
turned to what we could do to blunt their attack.

   "That's the first issue," she went on.  "The second is Worthington
himself.  The District Attorney is trying his damnedest to keep the case
from going to trial.  If it does, even in a closed court, the repercussions
could be severe, particularly on individuals who would have to testify
against him."

   I'd already learned that in our system of justice the accused -- in this
case the Worm -- has the right to face his accuser -- in this case, me --
in a court of law.  The thought made me feel sick.  I never, ever, wanted
to be in the same room with that heap of slime again, let alone be
cross-examined by his attorney.  I broke out in a cold sweat, thinking of
the coals I could be raked over -- my performance in the Sex Ed class in
middle school, my flagrant display in the park.  I'd become a poster child
for The Program, not always in a positive light.  It's some kind of miracle
I didn't already have a target painted on my naked ass.

   Everyone was looking at me.  I hate clichés, but I was probably white as
a sheet.

   Mrs.  Devers continued.  "We hoped other victims would come out to make
the case against him so intimidating he'd cop a plea and go quietly off to
jail.  That hasn't happened, and now his lawyer is making noises that he
was entrapped."

   That made me so mad I had to bite my tongue.  I could feel myself
turning from white to red.  Blue was probably going to be next, but Mrs. 
Devers distracted me by continuing.

   "As it stands now we know of only two victims."

   Oh joy.  The other one had to be Peggy, and I ached for her.  I'd let
myself be burned at the stake before I let them hurt her!  Only I couldn't
see anything I could possibly do to protect her.  Shit!

   "There have to be others," Mrs.  Devers went on.  "We need someone,
anyone, to come forward -- more than one someone, if possible -- and if
they have specifics about the abuse they suffered, so much the better.  As
juveniles they're fairly safe from their names becoming public, especially
if it avoids a trial.  As adults it isn't so easy, but either way we need
their statements.  "

   "How old is a juvenile?" Heather asked softly, studying a lock of her
hair as if a split end had had the nerve to put in an appearance there.

   I felt for her.  She had to know that simple question raised a red flag.


   "It doesn't matter how old they are now," Mrs.  Devers answered.  Did
she deliberately avoid looking at Heather?  "Anyone sixteen and under at
the time the offense was committed is treated as a juvenile."

   I breathed a small sigh of relief.  Peggy and I were both underage.  But
Heather had her driver's license.  Shit!  She might not have age as a
shield.  I half expected her to faint right then and there, but she's made
of stern stuff and didn't even flinch, though at least one split end met a
cruel fate.

   "If you know anyone who might have been a victim, try to get them to
come see me.  As far as the school goes I can promise total
confidentiality."

   Yeah, right, I thought.  Some promise.  Being seen going into her office
anytime was enough to set tongues wagging.

   "As for the legal system," she went on, "the judge is a stickler for
protecting victims of sex crimes, especially juveniles.  So are Child
Protective Services and the District Attorney.  Violating gag orders gets
lawyers jailed, even disbarred.  It would be a closed court, no spectators.
But, reporters being reporters...."

   Not finishing that thought, she took a deep breath.  "What we need is a
case so strong they don't dare go to court.  To do that we need your help.
That's all I have to say, Madam Chairman.  Thank you."

   And there I was, shuffling my papers, my mind in turmoil.  Mercifully, I
had an agenda in front of me, a gavel at hand, and Robert's Rules to guide
my path.  Gaveling the meeting to order, I asked Mike to read the minutes
of the last meeting while I scrawled a note, folded it, and fired it across
Mrs.  Devers's bow to Heather.  The vice principal cocked an eyebrow at me
but made no move to intercept it.

   Heather read it, looked unhappy, but nodded.  She knew darn well why I
wanted her to ask me if I needed a ride home.

   After the minutes were approved it was on to old business.  Mrs.  Devers
reported that TPTB were trying to figure out who should provide towels for
program participants.  Housekeeping, the nurse's office and athletics had
been quick to come up with excuses.  Asking kids to bring in their own
towels was discussed, but that would spoil the joyous surprise of their
first day in The Program.

   Note to self: Add that stupid "surprise" to our agenda at some point. 
Eliminating that bit of idiocy might even resolve the towel issue as well.

   Devers said she'd keep pushing the issue.  Meanwhile, to cover the
matter, so to speak, she was bringing in hand towels from her own linen
closet, taking them home to wash them at night.

   So!  That explained the fancy "D" monogram Fran had planted her ample
ass on at lunch.  Frankly she needed a bigger towel, and I'd told her I'd
bring one for her.  Had I known it was her turn I would have done it today.


   Yeah, it was Fran's week in The Program.  We Lunch Bunchers were doing
our best to keep the bullies at bay, Tweedle Dumb in particular, but even
Fran admitted she was a big target.  I was glad she had a good sense of
humor.

   Heather made a motion for the committee to express its gratitude to Mrs.
Devers for her generous gesture regarding the towels.  Matt seconded it and
it passed unanimously.

   This was kinda fun!  As I got more into it my worries receded a little.

   From there we moved on to new business.  I opened the discussion on the
use of The Program for discipline.  After batting it around we all pretty
much agreed it had to go, but 'Retta Jones, she of the magnificent
chocolate rack, pointed out it might be a useful learning experience for
anyone bullying someone who was in The Program.  Last year her boobs had
attracted abuse, both verbal and physical, and the Worm, of course, had
been no help.  Her argument that giving a bully a taste of his own medicine
made sense, but that only added another twist to the issue without
suggesting a solution.

   So, I did what any good leader does -- I asked 'Retta to form a
sub-committee of three to explore the options and report back at our next
meeting.

   That triggered a discussion of whether we could go outside the committee
proper to form such a sub-committee.  Mrs.  Devers, speaking for the school
administration, didn't have an objection, but Robert's Rules, as we read
them, didn't allow it, and we decided it was best to keep this to ourselves
anyway.  So we were stuck with it.  With only eight of us to draw from I
could see this getting overwhelming if we had too many sub-committees.

   Even so, the corporal punishment issue got the same treatment.  Matt
Mozilla actually volunteered to chair that sub-committee, having been on
the receiving end of a sound public spanking from the Worm -- with his bare
hand, just to make it nice and personal, I'm sure -- for some alleged
program violation.  What a shit that man was!

   It was left up to 'Retta and Matt to choose their committee members.

   With no other new business we adjourned and I banged the gavel down.

   "Can I give you a ride home, Dee?" Trust Heather to hold on to the ball
I'd tossed her at the beginning of the meeting, and now run with it, even
though I knew she didn't want to.

   "Yeah, thanks.  I usually jog, but I'm still getting over the weekend, I
guess."

   Frankly, I was still sore, and I'm not talking about my earlobes.

   "Me, too."

   Dressed again, and with our book bags, we walked to her car, both lost
in thought.  I don't know about her, but I was tired of trying to hide our
friendship, if that's what it was.  I deliberately gave her a friendly hip
bump.

   "What was that for?"

   "For chairing the dance.  It was fabulous, and Kathy told me what you
did for her on the decorations.  And think of it as a Homecoming Queen
congratulations bump, too.  You deserved it, and I'm really happy for you,"
I said with a smile.  She smiled, bumped me back, and things were okay, for
now, at least.  She drove me home and I asked her in for a snack, though we
both knew there was more to it than that.

   "I hear you're moving?" she asked, washing her hands at the sink as I
hauled out milk and cookies -- chocolate chip.

   "Yeah.  Just across town.  Don't know for sure when yet." I sat down
across the table from her and for a while we ate in silence.  Shit!  I had
her here, right where I wanted her, and I didn't know what to say.  C'mon,
Stick, how about a little inspiration here?

   Patience, The Stick responded unhelpfully.

   Shit!  I hate silence.

   Exactly, The Stick answered.

   "Matt is gay, you know," Heather said when the silence had stretched to
the breaking point.

   Once again she'd come at me from an unexpected direction.

   "Uh, I didn't know that." My instant thought was, what a waste.  Here he
is, every girl's wet dream, and he walks the other side of the street. 
Damn!

   Not that I cared, I reminded myself.  After all, I have Greg, and Matt
is graduating this year.

   But still....

   "The perfect date," Heather mused, holding a lock of hair so close her
eyes crossed.  "Here I am, a girl who can't stand a boy touching me, dating
a guy who couldn't care less about touching me."

   Yeah, I know, they'd touched when they'd danced, but they hadn't danced
that close, and she hadn't danced with anyone else -- I'd watched -- and I
knew she didn't mean touching THAT way.  I thought it was nice he'd cared
enough to ask her to the dance, if he had.  Maybe she'd asked him.  "He's
in the closet?"

   She shrugged, dropping her hair.  "He's just discreet.  It's no big
deal. We've done it before.  Keeps the homophobes guessing.  I'm useful
cover for him and it makes me look good to be dating a hunk like him. 
Works out well for both of us.  I dated the quarterback, before...."

   Not needing to ask "before what?" I nodded and silence descended again.
The slow drip of the faucet was driving me nuts so I went over and jiggled
it to make it stop.

   She sighed.  "Fuck!  I'd like to wring that scrawny motherfucker's
fucking neck!"

   I sat down again, slowly, a little surprised by her language.

   We both knew she wasn't talking about Matt.

   "What'm I going to do?  I know what I should do, but what am I going to
do?  How can I do it without coming across as the slut of the ages?"

   I reached out and took her hand.  I somehow knew she had to work through
this herself.  I couldn't tell her what to do.  I wanted to tell her that
it was the perfect chance to redeem herself in her own eyes, knowing how
much she regretted not blowing the whistle on him in the first place.  But
that wouldn't be fair.  I could only hope she'd see that for herself.

   I finally had to say something.  "Well, first of all, it wasn't your
fault, so you're not a slut."

   She shot me a dubiously grateful look.

   "You're not!  This is NOT your fault!" I was wrestling with some way to
convince her to do what she knew she had had to do.

   "What should I do?" she repeated.  "I'm open to suggestions.  No, that's
not fair.  You're the one who walked into the dragon's den and took his
fire when I should have.  I owe you."

   "There's no 'owe' here.  We're in it together," I assured her.  She had
to know she wasn't alone in this.  Something that she'd just said niggled
in the back of my head.  "We need to tell someone."

   "Like who?  Who could I trust?  Not Devers.  She's a good person, but I
can't put her in that position.  The law says she'd have to turn me in."

   I didn't think that was what the law said, exactly, but I didn't argue.

   "There's something else you need to know." She dug into her book bag and
came out with a book about the size of a thick paperback, only hardcover,
white leather with a little brass lock -- a very ladylike book.

   "When I was five years old, on my first day of school, my Grammy gave me
my first diary.  She's given me a new one every year since, on the first
day of school."

   She dropped it on the table.  "I started this one the first day of
school last year.  It's been burning a hole in my bookshelf all summer.  I
had it with me today 'cause I was afraid the new cleaning lady might
snoop."

   "Shit!  What's in it?"

   "Everything."

   "All of it?" I asked, almost holding my breath.

   "All of it."

   "Like...?" I felt like I was walking a tight-rope.

   "Like -- all of it.  Like what he did to me, thirty-seven fucking times
between September and June.  What he did.  When he did it.  How he did it.
Where he did it.  Every time he did it.  In detail.  It got so I knew every
fucking pimple on that motherfucker's ugly body, right down to the fucking
mole on his fucking dick, well enough to draw a picture.  So I did.  Even
that's in there."

   Motherfucker.  She'd said motherfucker before.  That she wanted to wring
that motherfucker's scrawny neck!  That's what she'd said!  Maybe I had a
lever.

   "No shit?!"

   "No shit." She fingered the book, staring at it.

   My mind was racing.  "Just a minute ago you said you want to wring his
neck."

   "I still do.  So?" She looked at me, eyes suddenly very, very sharp. 
She knew I had an idea.  What she didn't know was that she'd handed me the
key to unlocking her, and her diary -- I hoped -- and locking the Worm up
for good.  But she might pay a steep price.

   I took a deep breath.  "So, you've got his neck right there in your
hands right now.  All you have to do is squeeze."

   "Huh?"

   She wasn't usually this dense.  I put it down to stress.

   I pointed at the diary.  "What you have, right there, will put him away
for a good, long time.  Maybe forever."

   I knew that what I said next could tip her one way or the other, so I
took a leap into the unknown.  When have I ever turned down a chance for
that?  I leaned closer to her.  "It's the evidence Mrs.  Devers was talking
about.  Think about it.  It's proof!  Show that and he'll have to go for a
plea bargain, 'cause any jury in the world would hang him, if they could."

   She turned white, her pupils dilating into tunnels that went straight
into her mind.  I swear I could see the wheels turning inside her skull.

   "Everyone would see my diary," she whispered fearfully.

   "Maybe not," I suggested.  "Maybe just the few who need to see it, and
only the parts they need to see."

   "But it's all mixed together," she argued.  "All the stuff I felt,
everything I did all last year ...."

   "Everything that HE did!" I reminded her.  "TO YOU!"

   I was so upset with the Worm, so excited to be this close to nailing his
worthless hide to the wall it was all I could do to keep from pounding on
the table.  It'd probably have scared the shit out of Heather if I had.

   I could feel her teetering on the brink.  I gave another nudge.  "This
is our chance to put that animal where he can never ever do it to anyone,
ever again."

   I could see she was still wavering.  I could understand where she was
coming from.  I've never been the diary type, but I knew if I'd kept a
record of all my feelings and thoughts the last thing in the world I'd want
is for anyone else to see them.

   But in this case, thinking of having to face the Worm in court, that he
might get off ....

   Feeling like a total shit, I gave the screw one more turn.  "I hate to
think I might have gone through what I did with that motherfucking bastard
for nothing."

   Even as I said it I felt my heart stop.  I'd gone too far, ruined our
friendship forever just as it had started to take root.  She was frozen,
icy white.  I couldn't tell if she was angry, or disgusted, or scared, or
what.

   But I'd said it, and it couldn't be un-said.

   She looked at her diary again, then at me, and I knew I'd won, and what
it might have cost me.

   I know, I know.  I've said I hate to lose, and I couldn't even calculate
what losing this time would have cost.  But I wished I hadn't won this way.


   "You don't play fair, you know that?"

   "I know," I admitted unhappily, looking down at the cookies, blinking
back tears, no longer hungry.  "I'm sorry."

   "So!  What do I need to do?" she asked after a long silence, and I
started breathing again.  There was a fire in her that I suspected had been
damped down to embers for the last year by the unspeakable things that had
been done to her.

   Where to start?  How do you eat an elephant?

   One bite at a time, said The Stick.

   "The first thing we need to do is we need to tell your parents." I
emphasized the "we." She had to know she wasn't alone, that I'd be right
there with her all the way.

   "Do I have to?" she asked plaintively.

   "We have to!  I'm sorry, but it's got to be done.  They've got to hear
it from us before the shit hits the fan, which it probably will, or they'll
never be able to forgive us -- forgive you.  It would burn inside them
forever if you don't confide in them.  They're your parents.  They love you
more than anything else in the world."

   God, I hoped I was right about that!

   "When?"

   "Are they home now?" They often weren't, and I couldn't help hoping they
weren't today, that we could put this off.

   No such luck.  She looked at the clock.  "Mom is.  Daddy will be, in
half an hour or so."

   Daddy.  She called him daddy.  What must it be like to have someone to
call that?

   Shaking off the thought, I got the same feeling I did when I took that
first step of my approach to a dive off the high-board -- the deadly calm
and concentration of being committed to action, confident it would come out
right, oblivious to all the other possible outcomes.

   "Then we do it now, before we lose our nerve.  But we need backup," I
added, digging out my cell, praying she'd be available.

   "Who?"

   "Someone I'd trust with our lives, someone who's already familiar with
the situation and will know how to handle it.  Trust me!"

   I speed-dialed Ms.  Andrews -- I'd asked Elaine to show me how to add
speed dial numbers, and that was one of the first, right after Greg's.  I
could only pray she could meet us at Heather's house.

   How do you tell someone their daughter's been raped?  Ms.  Andrews would
know.  We needed professional help.  We -- especially Heather and her
parents -- needed all the professional help we could get.  [DF1]