Hi. I’m Monica, and my friend here, she’s Monica too. It’s not as bad as it seemed, you know, we got to have all sorts of fun confusing people. We even had these shirts with an arrow pointing sideways that said, “No, stupid, she’s Monica!” We didn’t have them on today, but that’s because we really only wore them on special occasions. Today there was a game this afternoon, so she had her cheerleader uniform on. And really, Monica’s arrow should point up. She’s both Monica and stupid. My arrow should point down then, because I’m such a slut!
We aren’t sisters or anything like that, so we don’t really look much alike. That was probably a good thing because for about the past hour, while we’d been sitting in Miss Jacobs’ class, I’d been kind of staring at Monica a bit too much. She just wore her uniform too well. She’d always been hot, and maybe I’ve always been a little bi, but this afternoon, suddenly it was excruciating to look at her. If we looked the same, I’d never get out of the house because I’d always be masturbating.
Weird, huh? It’s like something went pop in my brain one day and made me a complete slut. It was cool though. Always being horny felt really nice. Not as nice as actually doing something about it, but still nice. Even thinking about my best friend makes me all tingly.
As for Monica, she was pretty weird herself. She’d been giggling like an idiot and playing with her hair for the last hour and a bit. Asking really stupid questions in class too. She’s always been a bit ditzy, but today she’d gone beyond the Bimbo’s call of duty. But not as far past as I’d have gone on Slut, given the chance.
I’d been eyeballing Miss Jacobs, too—probably because I was soooo horny today—and Monica caught me, so now we were on this weird topic of what Miss Jacobs did when she wasn’t teaching. All we really knew about her was her first name: Kelly. Kelly’s a really sexy name and Miss Jacobs is really sexy, especially in the black PVC mini and tiny top she wore today, so I’d spent the whole class fantasizing about doing her.
“I don’t think Miss Jacobs gets out much. I’ve never seen a boyfriend or a husband or anything. She must be seriously sexually frustrated.” I said, dreaming about Miss Jacobs holding a special class where I taught her a few things. “But she hides it well. She doesn’t even know how horny she is, I think.”
“She’s probly a domi … domi … What was that movie with that hottie, Keanu?”
“Huh?”
“The one with the computers, an’ kung-fu, an’ everybody wore shiny black stuff.”
“The Matrix?”
“Ya! She’s a Domi Matrix? Izzat right?”
“Dominatrix?”
“Ya! Miss Kelly’s a closet do-min-a-trix.” Giggle! “I got a big word!” Giggle giggle, clap clap, bounce bounce. “Wazzat one? Five silly bulls?”
“Only four,” I said, drinking in the bobbing of Monica’s breasts and getting much, much hornier. Unlike Miss Jacobs, I had a good idea just how horny. I know Monica swings my way sometimes, but somehow I’d never gotten her into bed. She didn’t want to ruin the friendship or something stupid like that.
“You’re making me sound silly, but it’s not, really. Not as silly as a witch. I saw this cartoon on, like, the web? Ya, the web, an’ she said a spell and her boobs got really big. It was cool. Anyway, it was silly, but witches need big boobs!” Giggle. Giggle, giggle, giggle.
I giggled back, because it was silly, but mostly because her giggling was infectious. “Sure Monica. Whatever you say. The Monica-natrix! Crack! Crack!” I mimed snapping a whip at her. “Nah. I wouldn’t like wearing all that latex, and all the slave training’s too much like work. Being a witch would be better, but I wouldn’t want to have to lug around the boobs. They look great on you, though.”
“Monica likes Monica’s boo-bies!” she sang. “Monica have great big boo-bies!”
“I know,” I said, grimacing. “Don’t remind me.” Guys—and Monica—stared at my tits all the time, and they attracted lots of attention, but didn’t get me enough actual sex to make up for the disadvantages. Like what they did to my posture. I was going to have serious back trouble by the time I was thirty. That made me a totally hypocrite. I loved big boobs on other girls, but not me, and I was the one stuck with them. When I rule the world, it’s the first thing I change. Everyone has huge boobs except for me. I get something modest, like maybe a C-cup.
I’m just too horny today. I actually did want to see if I could get Monica into bed, somehow. She’d been distracted all afternoon and acting even ditzier than normal, so maybe today’s the day! I had to fight not to giggle evilly. Here I was, actively planning to seduce my best friend. Not that it would be hard with her drooling all over my boobs all the time. I’m such a slut! I’ll fuck anything! Even a girl! That time I giggled.
“Crack! Crack!” I said, miming the whip again. “You are my sex slave, Monica.”
Monica stopped trying to read the locker combo she’d written on her hand and looked at me stupidly. Then she blinked and smiled happily.
“I’ve got all the stuff we need for tonight. C’mon. Let’s go.”
“Yes Mistress.”
“Bwah hah hah hah. Stop playing around, Monica,” I said. I was too horny to resist adding, “Either that or be a good slave and eat me.”
And that’s when my best friend dropped to her knees. I figured she was just carrying the joke a bit too far, but then she flipped up my skirt and kissed my panties.
“Monica?” I asked, stunned as she moved my panties out of the way to get at what was underneath. “What are you doing? Monica?
“Ooooohmigaaawd!”
You know, I could get used to this, I thought as I slumped back into a locker. Being a slut’s really cool and being a bisexual slut’s better: You get more to choose from! I couldn’t wait for the post game orgy tonight. Nobody’d mind an extra slut.
I shook my head, but fought off the full body shudder that had been threatening to break loose. It was that weird sort of feeling you get when someone’s talking about you behind your back, and that someone says things that are not necessarily complimentary, not that that was a new feeling today. I’ve had plenty of new feelings today. Mmmm. Most of them were quite nice.
Whatever Mr. Grant had to say about it, dressing like a student was working. I just had to dress a little more extreme to stand out and really grab their hearts and minds. The students definitely did look at me differently and they weren’t as reserved, so the little problem I had with Miss Astin was just that: little.
Some people are a little too inhibited and need to break out. I knew all about that; in order to really have fun with the students, I had to let go a little. It was all a matter of give and take; something people like Mr. Grant and Mary Astin just didn’t understand. Some students wanted someone to look up to, some wanted a teacher that was one of them, and some—like Terry and Darren—wanted a little more. But I wanted things, too. I wanted the students to learn. I wanted to learn from the students.
Tommy’s friends thought I looked like a porn star playing a student, but maybe that’s what the modern student needed. Some huffy, dowdy old maid just didn’t fire their imaginations. Didn’t inspire them to do better. School could be so much more than just school work; it could be a place where you really learned about life.
I’ve been living too much in my head, anyway. Maybe it really is time to use my body for something.
“Thomas,” I said, removing the hair clips that held my hair in its dull style and let the reddish-brown locks fall down around my shoulders, framing my face with a more mature, commanding look. I’d listened to their talk carefully this morning. Thomas didn’t need a little girl; he needed a woman to straighten him out. Time for me to grow up a little.
Thomas watched intently as I sat up straight, no longer slouching the way one of his fellow students would. Looking at his flushed face and wide eyes, you certainly could call him a pupil. His eyes didn’t seem to consist of anything else.
“Sit down, Thomas,” I asked, motioning to the large, wooden chair I had placed in front of my desk. Without the kickboard, he would have been able to see right up my skirt, and he probably sat there fantasizing wildly about it. All because of the … the nonsense about sex and porn stars his friends filled his head with. Once I managed to calm those raging hormones down, we’d both feel a lot better.
So I gave a little. I stood up, pulled my skirt back down before he could see anything, walked around to the front of my desk and hopped up on top of it, right in front of him with my legs slightly spread so he could see right up my skirt.
Now he could get it out of his system and move on.
“Mr. Grant thinks I should take more control of my students, but I want to be a friend. Someone you can count on to understand you. Someone you can trust. And now, I think I have a way to reconcile both sides.”
“But I need to trust you. You weren’t sick this morning, were you?”
My idea didn’t seem to be working, so I crossed my legs and prompted again. “Thomas?”
“Huh?”
“You weren’t pretending to be sick this morning, were you?”
“No,” he replied, blushing even more furiously.
“You have it bad for a girl, don’t you?”
“Uhm …” He looked so … so … He looked cute all flustered like that. “Uh, yeah.”
I knew it! He is crushing on someone! I almost giggled, but that would ruin the image I was projecting. Well! It’ll be good to get his mind off me.
Still, he was obsessing about some girl, and that wasn’t good. He needed to relax and spend some time with his ladylove. To do that, however, he needed to learn how to deal with the opposite sex. Perhaps if I dressed up as a student again, and with the right makeup, maybe I could pass myself off as a teenager. That way I could take him somewhere and get him acclimatized to being around girls, without being recognized and getting in trouble. Start small, I suppose, just go get some burgers, and then take him somewhere to expose him to other girls in a social setting. After some practice, maybe then he’ll be able to talk with this girl he likes so much. I wracked my brain for dance clubs that were open to teens. There was one when I was a student here, I think, but I never went to any of the dances.
“Well,” I said, leaning in closer, “I suppose you need to know more about girls and how to give them what they want. That’s why I wanted you here after class. See? You can relax now. You aren’t in trouble; I just want to show you a few things.”
He didn’t relax at all. He squirmed in his seat, so it fell to me to relax him enough for the lesson to stick. I leaned further forward, put my hands on his shoulders, and got ready to teach him to kiss when—
Click.
“God Damn it!” I almost screamed, straightening up and hopping off the desk. Those imbeciles on the school board would never understand what I was trying to do, so if I was caught, it’d be all over. Philistines! They had no idea of the challenges teachers faced these days.
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples in dismay. I wanted to scream! I just felt so tense, and I didn’t know why. You are always disturbed when you are finally getting somewhere.
“Kelly, do you need a lift ho—
Mr. Grant did a double take. “What the hell are you doing?”
“It’s not what it looks like!” I blurted, secretly pleased at finally prying some emotion from the man. “I’m just trying to teach!”
“Oh. Very good,” he said, the red fading from his face. “Carry on, then. I have some paperwork I could do. Just swing by my office when you are done, if you need a ride.”
“Thank you, Mr. Grant. I’ll do that.” Mr. Grant was staring at something on me, so I looked down. My skirt had ridden up enough for Thomas to get a really good look, and he sat there, silent. If he just leaned forward a few inches, he’d get a real education, but school was not the proper sort of place for that. School was, as I started to realize as I tugged my skirt back down again, not the proper place for a lot of things the modern student needed to learn.
“Say something, Thomas,” I demanded.
“Hi, Mr. Grant,” he squeaked.
Mr. Grant kept staring at me. Maybe he could use some educating as well. “I think that we are just about done for today, I’ll be by your office in a few minutes.”
I just had to ask two girls, one a cheerleader, having sex in front of my locker to move. That had to be another of Mike’s bits of fun.
Chris and Calvin were caught making out under the bleachers during gym. Mike didn’t like Calvin much, so there was no way he set that up.
The entire dance squad all tuned into bisexual bimbos after lunch. Top heavy, blonde, and brain-dead was right up Mike’s alley, but he was in the hospital when the change occurred. Did he somehow put the transformation on a time delay or did two people get super powers?
Maybe … just maybe … Darren!
Lacey attended class nude and went into a sexual frenzy up on the third floor, just like Darren’d wished, but if he had super powers, Lacey would have been drooling all over his cock in first period and she wouldn’t have tried to screw Ruben.
Darren forgot about Lacey going to class nude right after I … “Told him to forget about it.”
Holy shit. I told Darren to forget about seeing Lacey naked and he did. I stood right about here, and told Darren to do something impossible, forget a naked hottie, and he did it. Whatever the source of his power was, Mike had left it in his locker.
It had to be. Anything anyone asked for within about ten feet came true, no matter how ridiculous. Still, I needed to prove the theory, so I tested it out the easy way with Molly O’Reily as she walked past.
“Hey Molly, You’ve got the most succulent, firm, and sensitive H-cup boobs in the world, and you love to show them off!”
I caught a glimpse of her shirt stretching outwards as she passed, and Molly’s habitual slouch became a chest forward strut. I felt my cock stiffen as her orbs expanded so much that you could clearly see them from behind around her arms. She took a few more steps before what I’d said sunk in. “What?” She turned around to face me and her supersized knockers spun her completely around and sent her tumbling and jiggling to the floor. She might not have bounced so hard if her hands hadn’t been busy adjusting the neck on her shirt, pulling it wider to give me a better look at her cleavage.
“Omigawd! Terry! Help! What happened? Holy cow!” She rolled onto her back and the barely sagging masses rose like domes out of her chest. She helped them out by tearing her shirt completely open and the stupendous boobs spilled over the sides of her ribs. “Whoops! Kinda turned too fast, huh?”
She lay there stunned for a moment and spilling out of her torn shirt, before she cupped her tits and pushed them together into a major display of cleavage. She winked at me and licked her lips. “Wuh-wow! They, uh, look pretty nice, huh?”
“Molly, you love them. You can cum just from playing with the inch-long nipples. Try it out. You even ejaculate milk when you orgasm.” So sue me. I like my hentai, and Molly’d always veto everything that Mike or I brought to Anime club. Too risqué, she always said. She’d even rejected the ‘Castle of Cagliostro’ without even looking at it, and that was a classic!
It kind of made what I had in mind fitting.
My internal soundtrack filled in the “Poink poink!” as her nipples shot out, long and thick, on the end of exaggerated areolas. Her whole body lurched as she ran a finger across one, and she started squirming with a heated intensity as her hands went to work, squeezing and pulling.
“I … I … ooh. Ohhhh gawd!”
Molly’s eyes rolled up as her fingers pinched her nipples and she writhed on the floor. Pretty close to H-bomb class, but missing something, other than the tentacle monster.
“Your body looks as close to being like a hottie from an anime as it can, and still look real.”
Oh cool. Her hair turned blue. She looked up at me with doll like eyes while gasps burst out of her super sexy mouth. An impossibly slender waist, helped by deceptively long, well-toned legs, propelled a wide and erotic set of hips up and around in circles.
“You’ve been developing a body like this since you hit puberty, Molly. You’re Annie Mae: a living, breathing hentai school girl.”
“Nnngh. Terry, pleeeeaaasseeeee! Soooo horny. Let’s fuck.” She raised the skirt of her sailor suit to expose a soft, smooth, and very hungry-looking pussy. As I watched, her clit began to peek out at the world, but it slowed its growth down and tapered off before it became too disturbingly cock-like. I didn’t think about that for long though because she was leaking. Hell, she was gushing. The stuff flooded out of her like she had a a waterfall between her legs, over her ass and dripped onto the floor. Now this was getting seriously ecchi.
But it looked a lot cooler in the cartoons. In real life, it just looked messy, and when you looked at everything all together, I’d pulled a Mike. I got, or at least figured out, part of his power and the first thing I’d done was turn some poor girl into my personal cartoon fantasy slut.
Anybody care to tell me the difference between screwing a girl who’s too drunk to say no and a girl who’s been magically transformed into too much of a slut to even know the word no? Not much in my book. I spent the day dissing Mike’s lack of self-control, and with the first chance I’d gotten, I’d done the same thing.
I’d had infinite power for what, five minutes? Five minutes and I almost became a rapist. I felt sick.
“Annie, transform back to Molly and go home. Forget I changed you.”
“Hai!” she said before vanishing into a shimmering cloud of stars. Molly sat up after the pyrotechnics vanished, shook her head, and looked at me funny.
“Uh, Terry?”
“You slipped. You Ok, Molly?”
“Think so,” she said, getting up. “Kinda dizzy.”
I grabbed her hand to keep her from falling over again when she slipped in the puddle of her vaginal juices. “Maybe you should swing by the office. See the nurse,” I suggested, but she just shook her head.
“Nah. Everyone’ll be gone by the time I get there. I’m just going to go home and lie down for a while. What did you say before I slipped, anyway? Something about my boobs?”
“Uh, no. Just said, ‘Hello.’ You sure you’ll be OK? I need to grab some stuff out of Mike’s locker and then I’m out of here. I’ll walk you.”
“I’ll be OK. Besides, won’t Sooozy get jealous?”
“Nah,” I said, dismissing the idea. “She’s not really interested. Besides, Suzy’s not the jealous type—”
“Thaaaat’s what you think. You guys are so dense.”
“Thanks,” I deadpanned. “So what, you think I should make a move? I’m not sure …” I almost said I wasn’t sure that trying to pick up Suzy while she was under Mike’s influence wouldn’t be any better than doing Molly under my influence, but self preservation kicked in. “Don’t know if she’s ready to go steady.”
“Duh!” she giggled. “You bet she is. She may look like a dizzy bimbo, but she’s pretty sharp. You better snap her up, fast, or she’ll realize she can do better.”
Thanks again, Molly. Wait a sec …! Hallelujah. Some one else who noticed her hot body …
Aw shit. Mike had a thing for lesbians, didn’t he?
I had to sort this all out, pronto. Since he was gone, it had to be something in his locker. I unlocked it and began to search.
“Say, Terry,” said Molly, tentatively.
I turned around to see her posing to show off her breasts. Not too bad, but nothing like before. “Are my boobs too small?”
Huh, still breast-obsessed. Must have missed something when I changed her back. I probably just got her body. That’d be easy to fix, but really … she probably wouldn’t mind. “You kidding me, Molly? Those D-cups you’ve packed around since grade eight are amazing!”
Pop! A-cups one second and perky, round D’s the next. Actually they looked bigger than I’d expected. D-cups must be some serious hardware. It might be cooler if I made them expand slowly, but that was Mike-style thinking. If I firmed and expanded something slowly so I could watch and enjoy it, Molly’d have a Suzy-class ass right about now. I grinned for a moment, prepared to speak, and then changed my mind. Suzy-class asses were only special in small quantities.
“Yeah,” she said looking down into the cleavage of her shirt-bursting and bouncy chest. “I’m just greedy, I guess.”
Now I had a good grip on what Mike had been doing. That only left the how. The extra weight in his backpack had to be some ancient, magical Indian totem pole or something.
But no, Mike was too new-millennium for that. Stuffed inside Mike’s backpack, at the bottom of locker 2-21-B, a laptop computer whirred and clicked. Slowly opening it, I got a good look at the screen. Molly, in hi-res 3D, spun slowly. What a fricking stupid way to blow the mystery. You expect some sort of magic item or alien doo-dad, not a fricking laptop. It didn’t even look all that cool. It was just his old Dell, for Christ’s sake.
Still, my jaw dropped, as I looked the display over. The GUI had widgets for everything. A quick glance read cup size, orgasmic intensity, muscular density, and rows of checkboxes for unlawful carnal knowledge. Then I saw the text-box for custom commands. It read Molly has been packing around D-cup breasts since grade eight.
Holy shit. Son of a bitch. Fuck me!
I shut the computer off before Molly could see anything, regretting not having the time to play with the variety of Anal Enhancements available, and followed her to the stairs.
Not that her butt wasn’t that bad as it was. I’d do her, but not with her mind all messed up.
I made a good choice in not messing with Molly, much, it seemed; the walk with her pointed something out: we had nothing in common. At least with Suzy I could talk about stuff or play chess, even if what I really wanted to do was strip her naked and screw like rabbits. With Molly, all there was to talk about was Anime, and our tastes were just too different. If I was going to Harem-ize her, I’d have to practically rebuild her brain from the ground up—and where’s the fun in that?
OK, so the notion had some appeal, but not enough for me to try it out anytime soon.
About half a block after Molly and I parted ways, a car shot by chased by a trio of police cruisers. Man, once I figured out how to use the computer, assuming that it could do more than just give massive endowments and cure sexual hang-ups, the first thing I was going to do was take a bite out of crime. Visions of myself posing in a variety of costumes danced before my eyes the rest of the way home. All the hot chicks surrounding me in those visions didn’t distract me from the goal of fighting crime and making the world a better place. Nope. Not a bit.
But Callie sure did.
Holy shit. Callie looked like a porn star. She’d even dressed like one. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Mike’d really done a number on her, especially up front. My experiment with Molly was nothing compared to Mike’s sister. I hoped he wasn’t into incest; otherwise, I’d be really feeling sick right now.
“Callie?” I asked, staring unabashedly. I’d been staring at her since I was twelve or thirteen, but now she had so much more to stare at. A bit too much, really.
“Terry, what the hell happened to Mike?” asked my best friend’s micro-skirted, tiny-tank-top-wearing, exceptionally long-haired, emphatically stacked, and upset sister. “He’s at the hospital, but we couldn’t see him because he’s in surgery, and the police—”
“Surgery? Holy shit! MacKay really must have gone nuts. I knew Mike went to the hospital, but—”
“MacKay? Doug MacKay? Like, football Doug MacKay?”
“Yeah. Marian sicced him on Mike.”
“No way! So Mike did try to rape Marian?”
“Yeah, sort of.” That was true, but no one would ever believe it. “If you count her dropping to her knees, ripping his pants off, and swallowing his dick as rape.”
“No way.” At the mention of swallowing cock, Callie began to breathe harder and suck absentmindedly on her index finger. “She tried to rape him?”
“Physically, I’d call it mutual rape. Mike wasn’t complaining much.”
“No doubt,” she said with a smirk. She pressed in close, her huge breasts mashing against my chest, and cupped my balls. “He loved it when we, that’s Mom and I, went down on him last night.”
I’d started to step back, but wound up falling over because she’d hooked a leg. “Jesus Christ!” I yelled, trying to get back up or at least scramble away. I don’t know why I bothered. You could see everything from down here, and I’d been trying to get a peek since I was twelve or thirteen. “He did you and your mom?”
“Sure! Incest is best, right? You know … I always sort of thought of you like a … little brother.” She pushed me back down and sat on my legs. The oversized belt that barely covered her didn’t cover anything after her legs spread around mine. “Don’t look shocked, Terry, I noticed the way you always looked at Cah … me, and I kind of liked it. Dunno why I’ve never tried this before; guess I never found a good time for it, but I’m making time now.”
“Uh, nice tattoo,” I said, pointing to the dragon where her pubic hair should have been. “D’you think we could at least do this inside?”
“Oh sure, with Mike gone, Mom’ll probably need it too.”
“I’m sure she will, Mom,” called Callie’s twin from the front porch of their house next door. “I thought we agreed we’d only fuck people inside the house. Mrs. Patterson freaked when she saw you and the mailman earlier. And stop pretending to be me!”
“Hah!” burst Mike’s Mom, rubbing her pussy against the suddenly receding rod in my pants. “I never agreed; I just stopped arguing.”
“Mooooom! Please!”
“Don’t you ‘Moooooom’ me. We’re exactly the same age now. Mike made sure of that, right after he gave himself that yummy cock. Mmmmm. I can’t wait until they let him out of the hospital. I’m going to go nuts without him around to suck on.
“I bet Terry’s tasty! If he’s not, maybe he can use Mike’s computer to make himself tasty!”
“Mooooom!” Callie yelled again as she strode over. I think it was Callie, anyway. Mike could be really freaked out and have transformed his dog or something. “Just get off of Terry and invite him inside. Then we can cook dinner for him and fuck him all we want.”
Fuck me all they want? Fuck that! I knew Mike’s taste in movies, and there was no way I was going to be the poor bastard who gets tied up and sexually tortured.
Then I had a really chilling thought: Mike thought my Mom was hot, too. If he touched her or changed anything about her, I’d fucking kill him the second he got out of the hospital. If not sooner.
“Missus Wagner? Can you please—”
“Call me Danni, Terry.”
“Missus Wagner? Can you please get off me?”
“Mooooom! Look, he’s not interested. I’ll be fucked if I know why, but he isn’t.” She tore her shirt off and bent over to dangle her immense breasts in my face. “What’s the matter? These not big enough for you?”
She grinned as I shook my head. “Don’t believe you,” she said and her breasts started growing from hanging softballs to—Holy shit—watermelons. Huge and heavy, Callie’s breasts brushed against my face until the ginormous set that dropped onto my chest pushed them away.
Oh man, I thought, while trying to find an air pocket I could use to keep from suffocating. This is totally Mike. No girl is ever big enough for Mike. He stuck to breast growth story canon, though, and the two girls started to lose it, completely overwhelmed by mind wracking orgasms. I took advantage of the frenzied expansion and gushing vaginal lubricant to worm my way out from underneath Mrs. Wagner and bolt.
“Mooooom! He’s getting away!” howled Callie. She tried to give chase, but with beanbag chairs for tits, she could probably only manage about an eighth of a mile an hour, and that would be with two wheelbarrows.
I made it to the front door and had my key in the lock before Callie managed to get her breasts down to a point where she’d once again be able to move on her own. Mrs. Wagner writhed on the ground, almost buried by the Volkswagens jutting from her chest and lost in her own world of pleasure.
“You can’t leave us like this!” shrieked Callie as I slammed the door shut.
I had no intention of it. Mike’s program had to have an undo feature somewhere. If it didn’t, at least I could guess them to something almost normal. But first, I had to get somewhere private and change my pants and shirt. One thing Mike and I had in common was a thing for very leaky girls. I blame it on too many cartoons. All that H-anime must have warped our minds, because once you got exposed to the stuff in real life, it was actually pretty gross.
After changing practically all of my clothes, I sat down to fix things back up and maybe take care of a few things for myself. I plugged it into the wall, plugged it into my monitor and keyboard, and booted Mike’s laptop. It went through the usual rigmarole and loaded about twenty too many icons to the systray. Mike’s computer was bogged down by a real mess of extra crap.
I dug around, looking for the magic program, but the mystery was back. After ogling all of the on-screen options, I’d shut down the program without finding out what it was called and nothing jumped out at me. I’d found nothing in program files, and using the brute force approach—searching the entire disk for .exe files—got interrupted by dinner.
Mom looked fine, thank God, and, after we got through with the usual parental concern over the goings-on at school, we had a pretty quite dinner, with one exception.
“Strange day all around, Terry. I caught something on the news on the way home,” said dad as we ate. “Some blue-haired girl—get this: Dressed like a cartoon character—ended a police chase by demolishing the fleeing car and held the occupants for the police. Obviously someone’s been drinking on the job, because it’s not April yet.”
I choked on the spinach while my brother laughed at my expression. In hindsight, I should have noticed that only Molly’s transformation back had special effects accompaniment. When she went cartoon hottie, she got a full dose of cartoon.
What the hell, I figured. The world needs heroes. So what if she wears a 36-H bra-or would if she bothered with one-that just makes her all the more super.
Yearbook ate up all of my free time, but it was going to be worth it. I had most of the section laid out, so as soon as Bobby delivered those pictures, I could put the teams to rest. For this revision anyway. This was going to be the best yearbook, ever.
If only I could do this at home, but no way could I afford the software. So instead I toiled away in the computer lab with nothing but a bunch of aging Macs keeping me company.
“Hey, Mandy?” Speak of the devil. I spun my seat around to face him.
“I edited all those pictures down like you wanted,” said Bobby, holding out a CD. “Cheerleaders didn’t turn out so good; I had to clip it a bit too much to get the shot PG. Stupid bimbos.”
“Bobby …” I cautioned.
“Sorry. Stupid intellectually challenged nymphomaniacs.”
“Bobby!”
“Well, they are!”
“They’re cheerleaders,” I sighed. “They’re supposed to be sexy.”
“Come on, Mandy! I couldn’t get Tanja and Carly to stop trying to make out until I put them at opposite ends of the group, Melissa wouldn’t stop flashing her breasts at me, and when I told them to line up with the taller girls in the back, they couldn’t figure out who was taller than who. I think they sorted themselves according to cup size. Anyway, here’re the pictures, before I dig myself a deeper hole.”
“Thank you,” I said. He looked like a kicked dog, so I tried to soften things up a little. “You’ve been a really great help, Bobby, and I—Excuse me.”
I turned around, pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, opened it, and answered. “Mandy Bennet.”
“Amanda,” started mom. This wasn’t going to be good. It was never good when she called me on my cell. “I’m having trouble with the car so—”
Car trouble, my ass. One of these days dad was going to find out why she always had to take the car in for tune ups. “So I need to catch the bus. Thanks mom.”
“Good. Oh, could you take something quick out of the freezer and throw it in the oven? I might be very late and you know how your dad gets.”
“Yes mom.” How he got was completely justified, even though he didn’t know it; mom was a tramp.
“OK, thanks sweetie.”
Swallowing an expletive, I folded my phone back up and turned back to Bobby.
“I can wait around ’till you’re done and give you, you know, a ride home, if you want. Maybe pick up something to eat?”
No, I didn’t want. I could get things done much faster without him distracting me. “Bobby, I … Oooh.” I blinked and shivered a bit, sort of like a sneeze, but a really good sneeze. Suddenly my mouth was dry. The rest of me broke out in a sweat.
“Mandy?”
Confusion reigned. I was … it’s like when you … like … I had no idea what it was like. I never felt anything like it before. “Ride?” I choked out. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t breathe. I licked my lips to wet them, and then I did it again. I …
“Oooohhh, Bobby, I … Unnnh! Ride!” Omigod. My body’s on fire! I know exactly what this is. I-I gotta get him out of here. Lock up the lab and run to the washroom. “Oooh! Buh-Bobby. Huhoooo. Rrrride.” My legs went weak and I stumbled into him. His arms wrapped around me. No. He just grabbed me. The craving grew. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me. I wanted a hell of a lot more that that. I wanted to ride Bobby. I wanted to eat Bobby.
He shook me and asked me something, but I didn’t listen. I couldn’t stop myself. My hands, working on their own, opened up his pants. Ride Bobby, ride Bobby, repeated over and over in my mind with visions of me down on my knees, devouring his penis and doing other sick, lovely, things. It was like a damn broke in my sexuality and all of the water was gushing out, mostly between my legs.
“M-m-m-mandy?” he stammered as I hooked his leg, just like the taught in rape prevention, but rather than running away like I was supposed to, I grabbed his underwear buy the waistband with both hands and tore apart and down. My dripping panties I simply pulled out of the way.
“Shut up and fuck me.” I commanded, and Bobby obeyed. He didn’t have any choice, not really, when I grabbed his cock and slammed myself down on him. It hurt for a moment, but within seconds, I was screaming in raw joy and cumming like never before.
Of course not. I’d never cum before, but God, if this is what mom feels, I don’t blame her for getting it wherever and whenever she could.
After dinner, I finished looking through the list of programs and ran the ones I didn’t recognize, just to be sure. Mike had a lot of complete junk on his drive. No wonder he was always getting viruses; he downloaded everything. Even the fucking Bonzi Buddy. Vurtua Stripper I expected, but the Bonzi Buddy?
When I finished sifting through all of the crap he’d accumulated, I looked through the recent documents list, but of course Mike had all of the paranoia settings turned on, so the list had been emptied when I’d turned the computer back on. Why he bothered, given the amount of spyware on his laptop, I don’t know, but it meant I had to dig deeper. Off went the computer, in went the Linux live CD, and after a bit of fiddling with the settings, I had the computer compiling a list of all files accessed in the last twenty-four hours.
After a few scripts chopped up the list, there it was: kelly_adams_nights_angels.divx.avi. The movie Mike’d been downloading for the past week and a half. The one that wouldn’t run because he didn’t have the right codec. The one that he said I wouldn’t believe.
That was no video I saw running earlier, so I’m pretty sure I believed. Some jackass had renamed the file, put it up on fileshare, and Mike had snagged it thinking it was a porno. It could have been anyone who found it, even me, but my folks wouldn’t spring for a broadband connection.
Totally out of habit, I typed ./kelly_adams_nights_angels.divx.avi and then waited for the error message. Mike ran the program under Windows, so there was no way it should be able to run under Linux. But it did. The media player went silent for a moment and I half expected the Monolith music from the start of 2001, but I got Harvey the Wonder Hamster instead. Mike’s got really stupid taste in music sometimes.
Welcome to Master PC
The hard discs screamed as though under torture and the CPU usage pinned at 100% for nearly five minutes. Patiently—yeah right, I plugged everything back into my box, booted it, and did a bit of web surfing—I waited. I’d seen what this Master PC could do, so you’d think I wouldn’t be hit so hard when the program finally loaded, but no dice. For a moment, while I plugged the keyboard back in, Annie Mai spun in the display, and then an animated genie popped up out of a cloud of really well done particle smoke and said,
Welcome to the Master Command Center … where the Master allows you to become a virtual god to the people around you … Now, you possess the power to bend their reality to your specifications. You are the Master’s representative.
And there is where you hit the really big difference between me and Mike. Where he probably immediately jacked his dick up to epic proportions, I wondered who the master was.
Still, we have a lot in common, Mike and I, so—risking my soul—I typed my name into the user prompt.
Nothing bad happened, so I continued by typing my name in as the subject. Then I unplugged the microphone. The last thing I needed was for Mom or Dad to say something stupid as they walked past my room. Tabbing my way to the Command Center box—no way was I going to mess around with any of the short cuts, buttons or sliders until I’d gotten a better grasp on how this thing worked—I began to type.
Who is the master?
I got no response.
Terry knows who the Master is.
Lovely. I now had a complete knowledge of some old Dr Who villain.
Who is the Master with respect to Master PC?
The Master. How incredibly informative.
Terry knows why The Master created the program.
Because. Equally informative.
What can Master PC do?
No response.
Terry knows what Master PC can do.
Anything. V-Ger seeks the creator. This was getting me nowhere. Time for a new subject: Callie Wagner.
Callie, in glorious 3D, lay on her back masturbating. Holy shit. Even if you didn’t use it to change stuff, this thing had its uses.
Callie will have a mind-blowing orgasm and pass out.
On screen, Callie’s whole body tensed, jerked, and her mouth shot wide open. I heard her scream of joy rip through my open window and just about came myself as her eyes rolled up and her body continued to quiver and thrash even though no one was home.
While trying to still my heart, I looked around for an undo option. No undo, but there was a save option. Mike’d saved his profile, but it didn’t look like he’d saved anyone else. He’d password protected himself too; a good idea, generally, but the dumb fuck’d have to heal on his own now. I tried some common Mike passwords—character names, his name as an ASCII string in hex, and a couple porn star names—but no dice.
Callie will revert to her mind and body as of yesterday afternoon. She got drunk at a party on Thursday and doesn’t remember most of today.
That looked like it worked. She was back to looking like a fox, but not a completely over-rendered one. For good measure, and because I can’t be a good boy all the time, I rounded and padded her ass a little and tweaked what she had up top. I didn’t make her boobs any bigger, at least not at Mike’s interest level, but she looked really nice lying on her back with her rack not quite so compressed by gravity. I also clicked the exhibitionistic tendencies and sexually adventurous checkboxes because I liked the look of her, and her boyfriend was a cool guy and booted a six-pack for me and Mike once. It had to be hell to date a girl like that and never get any.
I also rolled Mrs. Wagner back to yesterday, but didn’t add any of the extras. Marian, she could go fuck herself for all I cared. Lacey and Darren … jury was out on what to do about them, but Christine and Collin were too cute a couple to break up. A bit too cute, actually. I used Master PC to look up their current location—Chris’s bedroom—and tapped in a few instructions, clicked a few options on, and I sat back and watched for a while.
Kind of funny, I thought while tuning up Christine. For the head cheerleader, she’s actually kind of inexperienced. I always thought she’d slutted her way to the top. I mean she only scored 2 pixels on the blowjob skill slider and a big fat zero on practical sexual expertise. You’d think she was a virgin or she just got by on her looks or something. Tap-a-tap-a-tap. Click.
You know, I’d always promised that when I met the right guy, I’d hold off for a while to make sure he really was Mr. Right. According to some of the books mom made me read when I started filling out, nothing killed a relationship faster than premature sex. But after sitting in Grant’s office with Collin this afternoon, I found myself questioning that commitment. Like, I’d found the perfect guy, so why wait?
I was all ready to blow his mind after the game, but my stupid fucking cheerleaders all forgot to come to the orgy. There was me, Monica, Monica’s shadow Monica, the entire football team, and Collin. No matter what you may have heard or seen in movies, two girls cannot really take care of that many guys, even with Shadow-Monica offering to help, so I left.
I broke our kiss and looked at him, wondering if I should just suck him off again. He came way too fast when I blew him in Grant’s office. Then I felt a little shudder, and I just knew I could do a much better job of blowing his mind this time. And I was going to have to, if I expected to keep him after the show I put on in Mrs. Loser-all’s class. What if he likes demure girls though? Maybe I shouldn’t … Relax, Chris, he knows you’re no shrinking violet and you still got him in your bedroom. Fuck, if he does like shy virgins, I’ll have it trained out of him after he spends a couple minutes between these legs!
“Collin?” I asked, licking my lips. “You want me to … you know?” That ought to do it. Sexy, but demure. I went back to nibbling on his ear and playing with his pants’ zipper.
“I-I thought … You … Virgin? Do that?”
“No,” I laughed and tugged his pants down to his knees. “Not that. God, is sex all you nerds think of?”
“Not really,” he replied finding his voice again. “But it’s probably the only thing we both agree on.”
“No we don’t. I am going to fuck you completely out of your mind tonight. None of that romantic save-it-for-the-wedding shit. I like to know what I’m buying.”
I had to remember for later: He gets tongue-tied when fondled, but I had his pants open now, and he was hard. Bigger than I remembered from this afternoon too, not that I was complaining. In another few seconds, he was really going to lose it.
“And we’ll find other stuff we have in common. Trust me,” I said, unbuttoning my top for some reason. “We’re meant to be.”
“But why?” he asked.
“Don’t ask. Just enjoy it.” Stupid genius. Always questioning things. I slicked my thumb with his pre-cum and slid it back and forth across the head of his cock. “Try and think now, smart guy. Not so easy, is it? Now you know how you’re making me feel.”
“You?” Collin gasped, already squirming. “I’m hardly getting a chance to touch you!”
“Don’t worry,” I said, pushing him over. “You’ll get your chance. I’ll make sure you get plenty of them.” Then I got a really neat idea. I let him go. I stood up. I lifted my skirt. I looked at Collin. He looked at my drenched panties.
“So? What are you waiting for?” I asked, slipping a hand beneath the band and working it in slow circles.
He stared. He kept staring. I got bored. “Hello. My panties are in your way. Doncha think you, like, oughta do something about—
“Whoop!” Like a shot, he grabbed me and spun me around. He laid me on my back on my bed with my panties still on, trying to eat me out through them. It was neat, for a moment, being licked through the soft material, but I needed more—his cock would be nice, but his lips and tongue and, “Mmmmm Gawd!” His fingers! Oh, let’s hear it for the secondary benefits of playing the guitar!
I lifted my legs up and around his head and he took the hint—finally! A few moments later, my panties held my ankles together and my heels rubbed up and down his back. Without the panties, I swear I would have spread my legs wide enough to touch my ears! Whether it was fingers, tongue, or cock he used, I didn’t care. If my mother and sisters could hear me, I didn’t care. Either I came a hundred times, or I didn’t stop cumming. I couldn’t really tell which. I didn’t, and still don’t, care which.
I was hooked; addicted to Collin. It didn’t surprise me much when I found myself straddling his head and sucking him off while he ate me out. I can’t believe that I managed to accomplish anything with my mouth other than screaming, but my head bobbed on autopilot, and my tongue and lips knew exactly what they were doing. I always knew that I was good at this, and I could tell from the moans bubbling out of my still-quivering cunt that now Collin knew, too.
But while Collin played guitar, I played brass—my life isn’t all clothes and cheerleading, just mostly—so I knew all about horn-y instruments and fingering. I puckered my lips and he blew. He fountained and it was way more than earlier. See? I am getting better at this!
Oh my God. It’s white chocolate. I’m in love all over again. Spit or swallow? Definitely swallow, but not yet. I sat back, washed the gooey love-cream around in my mouth, and savoured it. Oh God, it tastes so good!
Something moved beneath me and reminded me of where I was and what I was doing.
“Chris? Are you OK?” asked my lover. My lover. Mine.
“Gaaawd! You taste sooo good,” I babbled around a mouth full of cum. I jumped up off him and then dropped back down and wrapped around him. He had to taste this; it was amazing. Our lips sealed and he struggled a bit when he realized what I had in mind, but not for long. I think he liked it too. After that I had to swallow because it was either that or choke on each other’s tongues. What a cool way to die, but no fucking way was I dying and leaving him a virgin.
So I was back to my original question: save his big V for a my wedding gift like he wanted, or do I blow his mind right now and every chance I get before and after the wedding? Intellectually, I knew I should wait, at least to make sure this worked out—Collin was the exact opposite of what I usually liked in a guy—but my soaked pussy had a few convincing arguments of its own. I tried to sit up, sink his re-hardened cock into me, but our thrashing had tangled us up in his suspenders.
“Collin,” I said, pulling free of the stretchy abomination and making ready to hurl it across the room. “You are never wearing these stupid fucking things ever again!”
The mood was ruined. I’d have to start all over again, and he’d be protesting actually going all the way, the stupid fuck. Then I got a really cool idea! Being tied to the bedposts with the suspenders left a couple of marks on him, but that is how to fuck a reluctant nerd! He didn’t protest as much the second time, and by the fifth, we were both too tired to argue. Not too tired for number six, though.