The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

October

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope.”

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

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

“Okay!”

“Meet you there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Claudia, can you give me a lift?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn good, Barbie. Let’s roll!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” Zoe wanted to know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” the blonde asked defensively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zoe nodded approvingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kevin,” Paige said quietly, looking down.

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

“No, it was after.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Paige asked, looking at Zoe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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