Party Girl
Part 4
Marcy sat in the Dean’s office, already bored. It had only been five minutes, and she already couldn’t stand it. The Dean had been saying something about the importance of education and responsibility and blah, blah, she didn’t care. She let out a huff, and dug out a joint from her pocket. The Dean stopped talking as he noticed.
“...is that a joint?? Are you smoking marijuana in my office?!” The Dean was enraged stood up, coming around the front of her desk to confront her.
Marcy took a drag from the joint, and coughed out a little. She wasn’t sure how to deal with this school problem, but she figured guys like favors, right? Maybe if she did him one, she’d do one for her as well.
Setting the joint on the floor, she looked up at the Dean, still huffing with anger. Calmly, she placed a hand on his pants, caressing his crotch.
The Dean gasped, “Wh-wh-what are you doing?? Stop that right now!”
“Fuck off...well, I’ll fuck you, at least. You wanna fuck me, right? I can feel it,” she said, caressing the Dean’s hard cock as she used her free hand to undo his belt. “If I suck your dick, will you help me with my little school problem?”
The Dean froze for a second, still in shock at finding himself in a situation like this. For a moment he almost considered taking her up on the offer, but then he slapped her hand away.
“Youu- you whore! Get out of my office!” He quickly did his belt back and stepped away from her. “I’m going to expel you immediately!”
Marcy was in shock. “Wait! Shit, what’s wrong??” She was confused; sexual favors always made things better. In fact, she wasn’t sure how to solve problems any other way. Why didn’t he like it? To her, it was if someone was refusing an apology.
“What’s wrong?? If you don’t know, then you have no right to be here! Get out now before I call campus police!”
“But I—”
“NOW!”
“Fuck! Fine you fucking fag—I don’t need this shit!” She picked her joint off the floor and walked off in a huff. The Dean slumped in his chair, trying to calm down from the intensity of what just happened.
Walking out of the building, she bumped into the Dean’s car. She cursed it out, but then she had an idea.
The car alarm went off as she hopped into the Dean’s BMW, speeding off with it. Of course, everyone saw her do it, so her little joyride didn’t last long.
It was only for a night, but it was the longest night Marcy had spent in jail. Thankfully, Donna had come to her rescue, and she had never been happier to see her.
“Ohmygod Donna! Thank you so much! I don’t know w-w-wwhat I was thin-thin-thinking!” She said, stuttering her way terribly through a rare clean sentence.
“It’s alright; we’re out of that place now. You’re fine.”
Marcy started tearing up, “What am I g-g-g-going to do?? I got k-k-k-k-kicked out offff fucking school!”
“We can always party for now, and worry later,” Donna suggested, thinking that she’s finally turned her.
“I- I need to get a fucking job...”
Donna’s attention was grabbed; there was no way her Marcy would have anything as respectable as a job. Though she knew it would be mostly impossible for Donna to keep her job, due to her little drinking and smoking habits, she didn’t want her to luck out into some lazy place where no one gave a shit what she did. “No, you don’t need a job; you’re not that kind of girl.”
“What? I need money, cunt. How am I going to party and shit without it,” Marcy challenged, still teary-eyed despite being foul-mouthed.
“There are other ways to make money you know. Anyways I bet you’re thirsty, here.”
Marcy realized she was very thirsty suddenly, and grabbed the bottle of vodka from her, gulping it in the passenger’s seat of the car. Gasping for breath, she told Donna, “Thank god! Those shits gave me some kind of water but it didn’t help at all!”
“Look Marcy. You’re not the same person you were before college. You’re older now; different. I think this is a new chapter in your life.”
Marcy looked over at Donna curiously, “A new ch-chapter?”
“Yeah, and I think with a new life, comes a new look. What do you say we give you something to match your new look?”
Marcy wasn’t sure at first, but then she psyched herself up for it, “Yeah, fuck school! Fuck all those fucks! I’ll show everyone and still be a successful bitch!” As they sped off to a salon it didn’t take Marcy long to tear through the bottle, and she was barely coherent. Luckily she had Donna to help her do the talking.
For the next few months, Marcy floated from job to job. Donna was bored, but tolerated it due to Marcy’s changes over time delighting her. It was hard enough for Marcy to find her initial job, given her “new look”. She now sported pitch black hair, in a severe bob cut, cut very high in the back, with her head shaved underneath the bob. The bangs were dyed bright red, and had a few red streaks around the bob. Her work uniform was always some sort of tube top/microskirt combo,—with no underwear, of course. Making things even harder were her nails. Donna had affected them such that they always grew to 1.5 inches within a day, and the skin underneath them was light-sensitive in a way that only blood red nail polish could protect them.
Her willingness to give sexual favors had ensured she would get jobs relatively easily as she hopped around, but her foul mouth, drunkenness and weed smoking got her fired extremely quickly. Not only that, but she discovered after the first time she was fired, that the only way to not feel depressed was to get a new tattoo and set of piercings, thanks to yet another little change by Donna.
She had gone through 12 jobs now, and found it nearly impossible to get another at this point. Her ears were pierced numerous times, as were her nose, lips, tongue, eyebrows, cheek, nipples, clit, and bellybutton. She had tattoos covering much of her body. At each successive job, she found people treated her more and more like shit, and a dumb slut, and it wasn’t long before she found her own self-esteem and confidence drop to zero. It was not as if she wanted to be a bad person, she thought. She didn’t want to look and be the bitchy, trashy slut she was. Circumstances upon circumstances had fallen on her and made her have to do these things. After all, she didn’t want rashes or stuttering or depression or any of the numerous other ailments she had to fix through various means that made her this way. However, the fact was she was this way and she now felt incapable of doing anything.
Unsure of what to do now that she can’t find a job, she sobbed her story to Donna, who was doing her best not to be elated. “I told you, there are other ways...”
Even more months have passed. Marcy was now part of a biker gang. They rode across the country stealing and harassing people, living through what they took. Sometimes she had to fuck people to get things for them, but she didn’t mind at this point. She fucked most of the crew regularly, and they sheltered her in turn. This was her life now, she thought. Stealing, drinking, and fucking shit up with her biker crew, and fucking them after. She was a bad ass girl, and she was happy finally. Donna herself was happy as well, feeling the nice boost of power she got from converting that girl into her new, dark self. She wondered what kind of adventures Marcy would have, as she sat in her room, waiting for her new roommate.