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Subject: {ASSM} Prospects by Virtual Scott [3 of 7] (mf mc, et al)
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Date: Thu, 01 Apr 2010 01:10:04 -0400
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Author: Virtual Scott
Title: Prospects
Part: 3 of 7
Summary: A girl tries to figure out what's going on at her new high school
Keywords: msolo ws scat MMf anal sm fsolo ff ff+ fist reluc ft m+f

Prospects

Virtual Scott <mail.virtual.scott@gmail.com>

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.
<1st attachment end>

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