Yes, Chloe
MONDAY
My world ended while I was in history class.
I was seated at the very back, not paying attention as usual. It wasn’t like I was dumb or anything; I just literally didn’t give a shit. It was senior year, and I already knew I was going to get a cheerleading scholarship to State, so I had every reason to just phone it in until graduation. Besides, if I ever needed an answer, I could just peek off Scottie’s paper.
The bespectacled boy next to me was scrawny and small, with pimply cheeks and messy black hair. He was a senior too, though his mousiness and ill-fitting clothes meant he could pass for a freshman. I always caught him sneaking peeks at my toned, perfect body when he thought I wasn’t looking—especially on Fridays, when my uniform showed off my tight abs, my long legs, and my big, firm tits. Today wasn’t a uniform day, but I still caught him ogling when I’d bent over to pick up my book, and my purple thong had peeked over the top of my barely-long-enough-for-dress-code shorts.
Was it kind of creepy? Sure. But I didn’t mind, because he always left his notes and test answers right where I could see them.
I knew the kid had a crush on me. Almost every boy in my grade had, at one point or another. And I was happy to lap up their attention all day long, before I went off with my boyfriend Trent after school and took his huge cock in my tight, wet pussy.
I couldn’t help but smile as I thought of him. He didn’t know it, but I had a special gift in store for him before Homecoming this weekend.
I was a good girlfriend. I was a top cheerleader. I had every boy in the hallways staring at my ass when I walked by. Other girls wanted more, but I liked being queen.
My phone buzzed. I glanced at it: it was from Tasha, one of the girls on my squad. Outside your class, she’d written. Gotta talk.
I didn’t even think twice about it. Lazily, my French manicured hand rose into the air. “Mr. Dominguez,” I sighed, “I need to go to the bathroom.” I didn’t wait for him to give me permission; I was already on my feet and heading for the door.
“Don’t take too long, Ms. Carmichael,” he said. “We have a lot of—”
But I’d already shut the door. Sure enough, there was Tasha. Unlike my kinky black puffs, her hair was straight and strawberry blonde. She looked the part of the classic cheerleader, but there was a reason I was captain, not her. I smirked at her with glossy pink lips. “What is it, bitch?”
But she didn’t smirk back. She looked at me like she was afraid.
My own smirk faded. “What is it?” I repeated. “Bitch.”
“Trent and Mackenzie have been hooking up. He’s going to dump you today.” Her voice shook. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
Furiously, I crossed to her. She flinched as I pounded a palm on the locker next to her. “The fuck do they think they are?” I said. “Have they forgotten I’m Chloe Carmichael? Captain Chloe Carmichael?”
Tasha’s eyes went wide with fear. “Mackenzie’s been going around to the other girls,” she whispered. “There’s going to be a vote today. You’re...you’re going to lose it.” She hesitated. “And the other vote, too.”
My eyes snapped wide open. Homecoming Queen. Mackenzie was a bold bitch, but even she wouldn’t dare. “And what about you, Tasha?” I said carefully. “How are you going to vote?”
She looked away from me, ashamed. She even had the gall to fucking cry, like I was supposed to feel bad for her or something. “I’m sorry, Chloe,” she squeaked, and turned and ran off.
For a whole minute I stood alone in the hallway, seething. I could feel my traitor heart trying to be sad. But I was a girl of unshakeable discipline, and I used that discipline to squeeze all the self-pity out of me. Mackenzie had always been gunning for me. And if Trent was stupid enough to pick her over me, then he wasn’t worth crying about, either.
I wiped away the tears that were trying to escape anyway, careful not to smear my eyeliner. There was no time to feel bad about this. I couldn’t stop the breakup or the vote now. But I could still keep the Homecoming crown from ever touching that slut Mackenzie’s stupid fucking head.
How? I thought. You just lost your Homecoming date. No one’s gonna vote for a queen who goes stag. And while I was hot enough that any boy would feel lucky to be my date, I knew I couldn’t trust any of Trent’s bros. No. I needed someone completely devoted to me.
But if I can’t rely on my boyfriend or my squadmates, I thought as I rejoined history class, then who can I rely on?
I ignored Mr. Dominguez’s annoyed stare as I took my seat. I flashed him a big, fake smile. “All better now,” I said in singsong. He glowered at me a second longer, then resumed his lecture.
A tissue poked itself into my view. I turned to see Scottie holding it out to me. “Here.” His voice was high for a senior’s, and it squeaked when he whispered. He gestured to his eyes, and I understood: he knew I’d been crying.
Carefully, I took the tissue. “Thanks,” I said slowly. And in my head, the wheels were turning.
Someone outside the circle.
Someone I could rely on.
Someone completely devoted to me.
It could work, I told myself. And imagine the look on Mackenzie’s and Trent’s faces when it did.
“Hey,” I whispered back to him, dabbing at my eyes. “What are you doing after school?”
I skipped practice. Now that I knew what was about to happen, there was no point in showing up. I also made sure to take a different route out of school so I could avoid Trent, and I ignored all his calls and texts. There was nothing to gain from facing either him or Mackenzie, not when I had moves to make.
Scottie rode shotgun with me in the candy red Lexus I’d gotten for my Sweet 16. I frowned a little every time I noticed him leaving a sweaty handprint on the black leather seats. I almost said something, but I stopped myself. It wasn’t like Trent and I hadn’t left plenty of sweat in this car before, either.
“Hey,” I said, forcing my voice into a gentle tone. “There’s no need to be nervous.” Of course, I knew there was plenty of need to be. I was the hottest girl in school, and Scottie was a smart boy. He knew where he fell on the pecking order compared to me. But I didn’t want him getting skittish, not when I had big plans for him.
“Okay,” he said, nodding a bit too much.
He was quiet the whole ride over, but even he couldn’t stop himself from gasping when I pulled up to my family’s huge house. “Oh my god.” His breath fogged up my windows. “You live here?”
“Sure do.” I got out and stretched, treating him to a view of my midriff as my thin shirt rode up. “Dad’s in pharma, mom’s in fashion. It pays the bills. Come on.”
I led him all the way out to our back porch, where a huge pool waited for us in the afternoon sun. “You chill out here,” I said. “I’m gonna go make us some drinks.”
“Oh,” Scottie squeaked. “Thank you, but I don’t drink—”
I shot a look over my shoulder at him. “Scottie,” I said. “Don’t be an asshole.” And then I left before he could object again. But I didn’t go to my mom’s liquor cabinet. I went to my dad’s study, where I’d hidden Trent’s present.
I’d transferred after middle school, so no one remembered the Chloe Carmichael that I was before: flat-chested, chubby, and always sweating. But late in eighth grade, I’d discovered something my dad was working on: directable nanotech, meant to help rebuild and reshape damaged tissue from burn victims or shit like that. But even at 14, I’d figured out another use for it. That was why, four years later, I had a cover girl’s face and a stripper’s tits. Why I could eat whatever I wanted and still have abs you could count. It was how I’d become queen. And I’d wanted to use it to make Trent into my king.
He had no idea what he’d lost, and what Scottie was about to gain.
I returned with two iced teas: mine with sugar, his with stolen nanotechnology. I smiled as I handed his over, and made sure to clink my glass against his. “See?” I said with a laugh. “No alcohol here. Drink up.”
Obediently, he did. I smiled. He hadn’t even dosed himself yet, and already he was doing everything I said. This was going to be easy. “So,” I said. “I was thinking you and I could take a dip.”
“A dip?” he repeated, looking at the pool. “But I—I didn’t bring a—”
“Don’t worry about it.” I nodded to the little cabana on the far end of the pool. “There should be a guy’s suit in there. It’ll be a bit big on you, but it should be fine.”
Scottie gulped. “Listen, I appreciate it, but I don’t know if I…”
But he trailed off as I casually pulled my shirt off. I hadn’t just made the drinks; I’d also done a quick change. When I stepped out of my shorts, I was only wearing a high-cut purple one-piece with a plunging lace-up front. It was the perfect thing for showing off my long legs and perfect breasts. I had more scandalous suits in my closet, but I had to give the boy something to look forward to. I waded into the pool and turned around invitingly. “Come on, Scottie,” I said. “Don’t you want to swim with me?”
He swallowed, then immediately leapt to his feet and trotted over to the cabana.
He emerged a minute later wearing a pair of black shorts Trent had left behind. My ex was a good eight inches taller than him and packed with muscle, so on Scottie the shorts billowed like a dress. His skin was pale, his body completely devoid of muscles. I slapped a smile on my face before I could betray my real thoughts. Good luck, nanites, I thought. You’ve got your work cut out for you. At least it was trunks Trent had left behind, and not one of the tight speedos I liked to see him in. Scottie wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
Slowly, he lowered himself into my pool, shivering from the cool water. He had to tilt his chin up to keep it above the water. “What now?”
“Now,” I said, “you try to catch me.” And I broke into a swim away from him, as he flailed to keep up.
The trick with these nanobots was that it took physical activity to get them working. I had already programmed them to do their thing, but they needed a jumpstart. I knew there was no way I could coax Scottie into going for a run, or coming down to my basement to lift the weights I had there. This was the only way I could get him to do something physical.
I made sure to keep it up for a solid hour, patiently building up the tension and letting him catch me occasionally. By the end, I could feel a little bit of hardness in his body when it rammed awkwardly into me under the water. And when he finally hauled himself out of the pool, I could see the barest traces of muscle lines on his arms, chest, and stomach. Tonight, he was going to go home, eat everything in his parents’ fridge, and pass the fuck out. At least, that was what I did when I gave myself the tech as a fourteenth birthday present.
“That was fun,” he said. Already, I could hear a difference in his voice. It sounded a little more steady and sure. “I’m not even breathing as hard as I thought I’d be.”
“You’re a natural,” I said easily. I was already fantasizing about how he was going to fill out after a few days. I bit my lip. Plenty of time for that later. “Come on, towel off and I’ll bring you home.”
He moved to obey. Again, I smiled. One of the things I’d programmed into the nanites was suggestibility. I didn’t want a robot or anything; I just wanted there to be no question, ever, about who was in charge. Soon enough, it’d just become a part of his personality...along with a few other things.
I was pleased by how much his body was already stretching his old clothes, even after only an hour’s workout. I’d made sure to get the nanites good and excited. Over the next few hours, they’d be hard at work building. When we came to a stop, it was outside an apartment complex almost a whole zip code away from me. As he muttered a thanks and made to get out, I laid a hand over his. He froze.
“Scottie,” I said softly. “Do you like me?”
He hesitated, but I’ll give him credit: he didn’t lie to me. He nodded once. “I-I do.”
“Do you want to be with me?” I said, dropping my voice to a sultry whisper.
Again, he nodded.
I leaned close. “Do you dream about fucking me?”
He turned bright red, but he didn’t shrink away or avoid it. He nodded again. “Every day,” he whispered.
I let my hand trail over the crotch of his khakis for a moment as I drew it back. There was nothing much to write home about there yet, but that would change.
“I’m going to pick you up early tomorrow morning,” I said to him. “Wear comfortable clothes. And you’d better not sleep in.”
One last time, he nodded obediently.
“Yes, Chloe.”