Bikini Beach: Nerds - Fund Raiser free porn video

This story is copyright by the author, all rights reserved. It may be freely posted at Fictionmania. Any other site, free or otherwise, must ask permission. *** This tale is part of the continuing tale of the Nerds and their adventures with Bikini Beach. Earlier installments define the characters, which are very loosely based on Revenge of the Nerds. The cast is repeated here for convenience. Cast of Characters Brandon - a nerdish type who fits the stereotype to a tee, and Robert's best friend and roommate. Robert and Brandon grew up together. Brandon is a computer genius, but is very awkward around girls. Robert - Not quite as nerdish as Brandon, but still awkward around others, especially girls. His talents lean more toward the sciences such as Chemistry and Physics. Bertram Smythe - Robert and Brandon's other roommate. From Britain, Bert is an ardent chess player. He is often rather contemplative, and has a sharp wit. Fred - A sixteen year old early graduate from high school. Very gifted, but socially awkward. Arnold - He was late to be recognized as gifted, and as a result, got into trouble in high school because he was bored. Now he uses his talents and sense of mischief to help the gang. Chuck - A Navy veteran and electronics genius. Chuck spent time as a soundman in submarines, where he honed his electronics skills. He is looked up to as kind of a mentor. Like Arnold, he is prone to pull pranks just for fun, although his pranks tend to be more sophisticated. Bikini Beach: The Nerds - Fund Raiser By Elrod W Brandon slumped in his chair as the paper slipped from his hands. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. Rob glanced up sharply from his computer. "Another rejection?" Brandon sighed, and then nodded. "Yup." He flopped his forehead onto his upturned palm, shaking his head slowly. "What are we going to do?" Bert, the third roommate, looked up from his studies. "How much longer do we have before we lose the deal?" Brandon sighed, his head still shaking slowly. "Thirty days," "I think the dean is pulling strings around town," Rob observed bitterly. "Trying to keep us from getting the loan." "And no loan, no improvements. No improvements, no lease. No lease, no frat house. No house, no fraternity." He sighed again. "If we don't get a loan, we're going to lose our charter." Chuck cursed from the doorway. "That son of a bitch got us, didn't he?" Brandon snapped his head up. "No, he didn't. Not yet, anyway." His tone was suddenly defiant, as if he'd found a new reserve of energy. "We're going to get a loan, and to hell with the dean." Bert sighed his hopelessness. "How, Brandon? Even with national guaranteeing the loan, we still need twenty percent down. That's over forty-thousand dollars, in case you'd forgotten." Chuck nodded glumly. "We've got just over fifteen. So how do we raise another twenty-five thousand in thirty days?" Rob snorted his disgust. "Not possible," he proclaimed. He turned to Brandon, and instantly recognized the look. It was something he'd grown up with - a far-off look of concentration as Brandon considered all the possible permutations of a new idea. When he had the look, nothing could interrupt Brandon. He just waited. "Okay, let's look at fundraising options. How do people raise money?" he asked simply. Before anyone could answer, he did himself. "Car washes. Bake sales. Charity auctions." He glanced around the room. "Okay, so we could have a car wash, but it wouldn't draw many people, would it?" Chuck glanced at Rob, then at Bert, and then shook his head. "No, I don't think so." Rob chimed in. "The charity fundraising records show that, once, a few years ago, the Delta house made almost two thousand dollars at a car wash." Brandon smiled. "Right. And you know why?" He watched the puzzled faces, and then he held his hands up in front of his chest, miming tits. "That's why." "But we're..." Bert's train of thought ended abruptly. "Oh," he mouthed as he realized where Brandon was leading. "Hmm. It might work." Brandon grinned. "Of course it'll work. Rob, can you run down to talk to that girl you know? See if she can help us out?" *** "Hi, Anya," Rob said softly as he walked into the office of Bikini Beach. He felt a little out of place; most of the time, he'd talked to Anya either at the ticket booth or inside the park. This was the first time he'd been in the office. "Hi, Rob," Anya said from behind a large desk. "Grandmother is out playing today, so I'm stuck running things." She gestured at an empty chair. "Have a seat. How can we help you today?" Rob slid into the chair. "No mind tricks today?" he asked cautiously. Anya laughed, a pleasant and melodious sound. "Not today, Rob. So what's on your mind?" "We need to raise some money to get our house. We think the dean is using his influence to block a loan, and if we can't raise the down payment soon, we'll lose everything." His words gushed forth, spilling out from his frustration and anger. Anya listened impassively. "Okay, so how can we help?" Rob felt hopeful. "We want to do a car wash to start with the fund raising. But like this..." he glanced down at himself, "we wouldn't make very much." Anya understood quickly. "Ah, so you want to change into some bodies that will help you attract customers, right?" Rob let out his breath audibly. "That's the idea. I guess it'd be about a dozen of us." Anya looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she scribbled a number on a piece of paper and passed it to Rob. "How's that sound for fees?" She smiled. "It's less than normal tickets, but we can write off some of the expenses as charity since you are affiliated with the university." Rob nodded. "That's fair. And we'll need something really curvy, with teeny little bikinis." He thought of another detail. "Oh yeah, and we want the sex drive turned way down." Anya laughed. "Yeah, you guys have had some problems with that one, haven't you." She laughed, as Rob blushed crimson. *** "Okay, guys," Brandon said reassuringly, "this is just a simple change. We've been through it, and it's no big deal. You'll be a girl until around midnight or one is all." He made it sound like an everyday occurrence, but he didn't convince anyone. If they hadn't seen Rob and Tim changed, they would have panicked. As it was, they'd _also_ seen Larry change, and with a vastly enhanced libido. Larry had been a slut for the rest of the day, a whore only too happy to fuck any man she saw. Some of the nerds thought fondly of their memories of Larry, their first encounter with a woman. Rob nodded. "I had Anya turn down the libidos. You should be less horny than you are now, in fact. So you won't have any problems." He glanced around. "Look guys, I've done this a few times. It's no big deal, okay?" Chuck piped in. "And we need to do this to raise the money, right?" Grudgingly, the rest of the lads nodded their assent. Rob smiled, and then began to hand out the passes. "Okay, we'll go in about four at a time. I'll take the first group. Brandon, you take the second, and Chuck, you've got the third." "Why four at a time?" a squeaky voice asked. Rob sighed. "Because this place is for women. It doesn't have a lot of men coming. So the men's locker room is kind of small, okay?" He waited only a second. "Okay, let's go." He led his group of young men toward the gate. Around them, attractive girls sauntered in, swiping passes as they went, and giving the boys strange looks. They knew what the boys were in for, and from their stares, they found the prospect amusing. That alone was disconcerting to Rob's group. Still, he managed to keep them together into the locker. They changed - and then the newcomers froze. "What now?" Rob sighed again. How many times did he have to explain it? Perhaps, his mind quickly reasoned, the concept of magic was so foreign to the guys' logical minds that they kept stumbling over it. "In the showers," he ordered, waiting until the others were in before he stepped into his own shower. Even as Rob felt the wonderful changes, he heard a high-pitched scream. He stepped out, still changing, and tugged open a curtain. Behind it, he saw one of his group, mid change, staring in horror at the growing mounds on his chest, screaming with a female voice. Rob grasped her wrists and pulled her from the water. "Snap out of it. Uh...Don?" He glanced around and saw two other very feminine faces staring from behind shower curtains. "Okay, guys. Let's get out and see what we've got." Only the fact that Rob was so calm amid these drastic changes gave the guys any hope of functioning. He sized them up quickly, even as he felt his own changes finishing. All four were not just attractive, but were knockouts. Boobs started at D-cup and went up from there. Waists - uniformly narrow, but not ridiculously so. Nice flat stomachs. Round shapely asses. Long sexy smooth legs. Rob nodded his approval. "Good," he said in a sexy voice. "This is going to work well." "Now...what?" one of the new girls asked fearfully. She'd been shy as a guy, and now was terrified. "We go outside and get our bikini tops. Then we go to the carwash site." "Out... outside?" The face was panic-stricken. "Where there are other people?" Rob sighed. He should have thought of this. "Wait just a minute, guys." He ducked quickly out the door into the park. Anya was waiting for him holding four bikini tops. She looked puzzled when he appeared alone. "Problems?" she asked. Rob nodded. "A bit shell-shocked, I think." Anya smiled. "It happens a lot." She waved a hand as she chanted something, then she grasped the door handle and led Rob back into the locker room. The change was dramatic. Now, instead of three frightened girls, there were three shapely young ladies calmly waiting for Rob. They knew who they were, and who Rob was, and what they were doing. The only difference, and it was a striking one, was that they were magically comfortable with their changes. Rob nodded his thanks to Anya. "I should have thought of this earlier," she said, chiding herself for the oversight. She handed out the bras, and the girls put them on like pros. That task done, Rob glanced at his group again. As he led the girls out toward the cars, Rob smiled to himself. This was going to be great. The girls were knockouts. As he passed Brandon, he waved, and watched with amusement as the novices in Brandon's group gulped and trembled, having just seen a glimpse of what they could expect. *** Rob glanced across the car at Brandon and grinned. The car wash was going well. Better than well. Anya's minor 'adjustment' had made a tremendous difference. The 'girls' were proudly flaunting their shapely bodies as cars drove by, waving their signs and bouncing and swaying seductively. Business was good. And the 'girls' were very pleased to be getting the attention they were getting. They'd made arrangements with an off-campus fast-food joint to hold the car wash there. Besides separating themselves from the campus restrictions and rules, they were in a much more visible spot. "How much you think we've got so far?" Brandon asked as he rinsed off the windshield. As usual, part of the cold water sprayed on Rob; his nipples were cold and firmly erect, putting on a display inside the miniscule bikini tops. Rob tossed a rag at Brandon to stop the spray. "I don't know. Tim's got the money." Brandon finished rinsing, then dropped the hose and strode to Tim. A brief chat ensued, and he returned to the car, a satisfied smile on his pretty face. "Almost fifteen hundred," he reported happily. *** The girls sprawled in the lounge furniture; the lounge was really a misnomer. Only part of the gym was filled with temporary rooms; the remainder had received a load of outdated and old furniture. Sofas, end tables, chairs - it was all strewn about haphazardly. The university had even recovered an old television for entertainment - not that it worked very well. Now, however, the furniture was occupied with exhausted girls. Still in their bikinis, they were laid out like battlefield wounded. "Hey, Brandon," one of the girls called, barely moving from her prone position. "What?" Brandon answered, likewise immobile. "How much did we make?" "Just over two thousand." "Yay!" "Hooray!" "Way to go!" "Great!" The voices were happy, but uniformly lacking in enthusiasm, probably because the speakers were all exhausted. "We broke the Delta's record," one girl said proudly. "And without having to 'bribe' anyone!" Feeble laughter rippled through the hall. Everyone knew that the Delta girls had a reputation as being very easy. "Rob," Brandon called out weakly. "Yeah, Brandon?" "You going to take a shower?" "Uh huh." Rob didn't move. "Me too." Brandon likewise sat still. "My body hurts," Brandon finally added. "Me too," came a chorus of replies. A couple of guys came in, glanced at the sprawled sexy girls, and made a suggestive comment. He was booed out of the room. *** The executive committee of the fraternity sat around the chess table in Rob's room. It was Chuck, Rob, Brandon, Bert, and Arnold - the same group who had instigated the fraternity quest. "Okay, Bert, how much have we got?" Bert checked his PDA. "Counting the fifteen we started with, we've got almost twenty-five thousand now." Chuck visibly winced. "That leaves us with fifteen to go." He shook his head. "I don't think we're going to make it, guys." Rob nodded morosely. He'd come to the same conclusion. For long moments, silence filled the room. Finally, Arnold interrupted. "Guys, we've got something going here. I'm not going to give up, and you shouldn't either." Rob looked up at him, almost angry. "Look, we knocked ourselves out with the carwash. We did the bake sale. We've tried a lot of things, and we're about tapped out." He shook his head. "The overhead of changing for the bake sale left us almost even." He lowered his head. "And I don't think _any_ of us want to try the personal maid thing again!" "You've got that right!" Bert agreed passionately. "I've never been so humiliated in my entire life!" They had gone so far as to change so they could serve as 'personal maids', at a very hefty fee, of course. While they had raised several thousand dollars, most of the guys had decided to put 'personal' into personal service; the maids had done little cleaning, but much servicing. Arnold shook his head. "There's got to be a way!" Rob snorted. "We tried. We came up short." Brandon got the far-off look again. Silently, he rose and padded to his computer. A few deft keystrokes later and he was searching the Internet. After a minute or two, he sat back. "Yup." "What?" Rob's plea echoed the sentiments of all in the room - curiosity to see what Brandon had found. Brandon turned from the computer. "There was a volunteer fire department that did a pinup calendar to raise money. They made almost sixty thousand in three months." Arnold glanced around, and then looked at Brandon, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't know if you've thought of it, but none of us are exactly built for that kind of calendar." Rob nodded his agreement. "And we don't have three months. We've got more like two weeks." Brandon grinned. "I wasn't thinking of that kind of calendar. But what if we looked like we did during the car wash?" *** The old woman stared impassively across her desk at Rob and Bert. "Let me get this straight. You want to change into girls, and then use my park as a background for cheesecake pictures? So you can sell a calendar to raise money?" Bert nodded gingerly. He felt genuine fear toward this woman, and for a reason that he couldn't quite explain. "That's the idea," he said meekly. The old woman shook her head. "This park is a sanctuary for women. I can't let anyone in to take pictures. I won't. It violates every tenet of privacy I've so carefully built." Rob shrugged off his fear. "I know that. But I think we can work something out." The old woman looked defiantly at him, then scowled. "It's a rule I won't bend. No cameras in the park." Rob glanced at Anya, who nodded to encourage him. Rob had already outlined his idea to Anya, and she'd thought it was good enough to present to her grandmother. "I know you don't like cameras. And I don't want to violate anyone's privacy. Believe me, we know all about having our privacy abused." He watched for a reaction from the old woman. When he didn't see any, he decided to plow ahead. "One member of our fraternity is a photography buff. He could take the pictures. That cuts down on outside people. And we could take them early in the day - before any customers arrive." The old woman's eyes narrowed, and then she nodded imperceptibly. "Go on." Rob swallowed, then glanced at Anya. "Look, one thing you need is advertising copy. Your privacy rule smacks right into that. If you let us use the park, we'll sign releases so you can use any or all of the pictures for your ad copy." He waited a second. "This can be a win-win." The old woman stared at Rob for a while; her mind was obviously racing as she considered the possibilities. "What about residuals from the calendar sales?" "Residuals?" Rob asked, his mouth dropping open. The old woman smiled. "Sure. If you're going to use my park, then it's only fair that you pay residuals or royalties." Rob gulped. He hadn't considered that angle. He did a few quick mental calculations. "I guess we could give you ten percent," he said hesitantly. The old woman threw back her head and laughed. "My boy, you have a lot to learn about business." She glanced at Anya, then back at Rob. "I can't take advantage of you like that. The standard for royalties is four or five percent tops. Not ten." Rob's eyes widened and he stared at the old woman for a few seconds. He turned to Anya, uncertain. He thought he was hearing something positive, but he wasn't sure. Anya smiled pleasantly. "Rob, I think grandmother is saying that you've got a deal." Rob swallowed, then turned to grandmother, who was smiling. She extended a hand across the table, which Rob took and shook. "It's a deal, just like Anya says." She sat back. "So when do you want to get started?" Rob felt the world spin. This was going well. Too well. He was starting to expect something to go wrong. "Um," he muttered, "we've got a real short deadline, so the sooner, the better. Can we start shooting tomorrow morning?" The old woman glanced at Anya, then back at Rob. "Tomorrow is Sunday. We open to our members at ten. You'd have to be out by then." Rob thought for a moment. "Sunup is around seven. Three hours. That should get us some good pictures." Anya touched his arm lightly. "You'll probably need another day or two. Weekdays, we open at eleven. That'd give you an extra hour." Rob sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right." He suddenly felt the size of the task and suppressed a shudder. "I don't know, Anya," he said after a second. "This is going to be a lot of work. I hope we can pull it off." The old woman sized up his concerns almost instantly. "One cameraman is going to be very busy. The models are going to have it easy." She turned to her granddaughter. "Anya, isn't Greg a camera hobbyist?" Anya's eyes widened slightly, then she pressed her lips together and started muttering oaths to herself. "Damn. I should have thought of that." She turned to Rob, excitement on her face. "Rob, my boyfriend is pretty handy with a camera. With two photographers, you should have no problem getting enough pictures in two mornings." Rob's eyes lit up. A little bit of help could make the entire project work. "That sounds good. So we'll start shooting at seven tomorrow?" *** "It's too damned early," Bert muttered for the tenth time. Bleary-eyed, he and a gaggle of nerds staggered across the asphalt toward the gate of Bikini Beach. "Why are we here so early?" Rob turned and sighed. "Some of you are going to help Randy set up the cameras and gear. The rest of you have to change and then get made up." "Makeup?" Tim spat the word as if it were distasteful, which to him, it was. "We have to wear makeup?" Randy glanced over his shoulder, a shoulder laden with the straps to numerous camera and equipment bags. "This is a professional calendar. So you have to look like professional models. Yes, you have to wear makeup." "But why so early?" Bert complained again. Randy started to answer, but Anya stepped around the corner of the ticket booth. "Because it takes _girls_ a long time to properly put on makeup," she answered. There was a guy beside Anya. She took his arm and smiled at Rob. "Rob, Brandon, this is Greg, my boyfriend. Greg, Rob and Brandon." Greg extended his hand, warmly. "Glad to meet you. Anya has told me a lot about you guys." He grinned. "Nice work with the Alphas." Brandon glanced at Anya. "How many people have you told about that little caper?" Anya laughed. "Just Greg and grandmother. And I really didn't have to tell her, you know." She glanced at the horizon, where faint streaks of light were beginning to show. "We'd better get you guys showered and changed so we don't waste any time." She led the group to the ticket gate, and then gave them each a card. "Okay, here's how this works. You're going to change into essentially a female version of yourself, but with a few minor enhancements." She elbowed Greg, who was making cupping motions at his chest. Greg leaned close to Brandon. "You ever see a model named Pandora Peaks?" Brandon glanced at him, and then his face split into a big grin. Greg smiled. "I thought so. Keep thinking about her when you go through the turnstile." Brandon got a puzzled look. "Why?" Greg grinned. "It helps make your figure a little better," he said mischievously. "You guys want super models, don't you?" Anya gave him a quick glare, which silenced Greg. She turned back to the group. "Who are the models?" Brandon, Tim, Arnold, and a few others raised their hands. "Okay, you go first." She handed them cards as they stepped forward. Each one swiped his card, as he went through the turnstile. "Get showered. Rob, you go with them, then come to the ladies locker." She stopped suddenly. "Wait. You did remember the makeup supplies I told you to get, didn't you?" Rob smiled and held up a large gym bag. "Just what you said." "Okay, go shower and hustle to the ladies locker." She turned to the rest of the guys as the 'models' went into the men's locker. "Okay, I presume the rest of you are help?" She watched them nod. "After you go through the turnstile, set down your gear by the locker room and go shower." Chuck frowned. "Wait a minute. Why do we have to shower if we're just assistants and gofers?" Anya sighed. "Because this is a ladies park, and grandmother doesn't let men inside," she answered sternly. "Besides, there's nothing like guys around to distract girls trying to model. Does that answer your question?" She waited for further objections. "No? Good. Now let's get going here." She handed out the cards and watched as the guys filed through the turnstile. As Greg was about to enter, she grasped his arm. "Keep it simple, okay?" Chuck heard her admonishment and wondered what _that_ was about. Maybe he'd have to talk to Greg about it. One by one, the guys changed in the showers. Blonde, brunette, and even one auburn. Curvy, but not stripper proportions. Nice shapely girls, with a girl-next-door look. A few of the guys had minor panic attacks as they changed; Anya was on hand to calm them down with a little magic. Brandon came out of the locker, and spied Greg. The look on Brandon's face was not pleasant, and he marched toward Greg, his hands holding the large boobs on his chest. "Very funny," he said, surprised at the sex appeal dripping from his voice. Greg tried to look innocent, but failed. Instead, he broke out laughing. With the mental image Greg had given Brandon, he'd become a hybrid between the girl he would have been and Pandora Peaks. Brandon's tits were huge, to say the least, and with a tiny waist, they looked even bigger. Greg's laughter was infectious; most of the guys lined up to change were snickering. "Sorry, Brandon," Greg apologized through guffaws. "I couldn't help myself." Brandon scowled. "You did that on purpose!" he accused, his voice still sounding sexy. He spun, and had to catch his big tits, which swayed dangerously from the sudden motion. The tiny bikini he was wearing did precious little to contain the motion, and the guys waiting had another laugh at Brandon's expense. *** "Uh, Brandon?" a female version of Rob asked uncertainly as Brandon came into the women's locker. Brandon scowled. "Yeah. Greg tricked me." He slumped into a chair to get makeup. Rob nudged Anya. "We've got a problem," he said softly. Anya turned, and her eyes bulged. "Brandon? What the hell happened?" "Your boyfriend tricked me. He got me thinking about a big- chested stripper before I went through the gate." Brandon was pouting at his predicament, but he couldn't see how sexy it made him look. Anya bit her lip. "Sorry about that, but I can't undo it." She glanced at Rob. "Brandon doesn't fit the image you were looking for." Rob glanced, and then nodded. "Sorry, Brandon, but you look like a stripper, and we wanted more of a girl-next-door look. I don't think you should model." Brandon sighed, and then perked up a bit. "Well, at least I won't have to put on makeup." Rob sighed. "So we're short one model." Brandon glanced at Anya, and then smiled. "No, we're not." Anya nodded. "You and Brandon switch places. Brandon, you'll help with the makeup, and Rob will model." She glanced at Brandon again. "And I'll get Greg for his little trick." *** Randy was a taskmaster when it came to modeling. He divided up the chores for the morning. He took responsibility for the still shots, and he gave Greg the task of the action photos. Randy had scouted the day before, and knew precisely where he wanted to take stills. The sun rising over the water and palm trees of the tropical lagoon made a spectacular backdrop, and Randy shot over ten rolls there alone. The tropical hut and white sand of the Tikki Hut gave some good photos. Beside the Pele Race slides was a decorative waterfall; with the tropical foliage it was a scene from a south pacific fantasy. More pictures came at the Gold Rush run, with its mining theme making a nice change. But Randy ran out of time; there were four more areas he wanted to take pictures at, but he had to start tearing down so the park could open. And all the while, between shots, the girls were running back and forth to the locker rooms, touching up their makeup, changing swimsuits, and combing their hair. The girls assisting Randy got a rest while he took pictures, but had to scramble when it was time to move to another setting. Greg kept his crew busy, too. He started with some action shots at the Wild Luau Raft, a group raft ride. The tricky part for him was that it took a long time to set up for each shot, with the girls having to go back to the top and get in their raft. After the first set of shots, he turned the camera's motor drive to full automatic, to maximize the chances of good pictures. Each run after the first gave him four or five shots. A group shot racing down Pele's Race came next, and then some shots of girls body surfing at the Tropical Waves wave pool. He got a couple of girls to volunteer for the Pipeline, and caught them mid-scream as they plummeted down the slippery channel. As he expected, their bikini tops came off at the bottom, but he'd stopped snapping pictures by then. The Old Swimming Hole gave some good shots of the girls swinging out over the pond, and some rafting shots along Old Man River were a peaceful change from the heart-stopping thrill rides. He took a few more photos at the Dambuster Raft Ride, and then had to stop for the morning. *** Greg and Anya joined the nerds at the gym. Greg went into Randy's darkroom to develop the pictures, while Anya sat with the guys in the lounge. Some of the unchanged guys were present, being curious as to what lay in store for them tomorrow. Greg had wanted to talk with Chuck about the remodeling of the gym, but Anya forced him to work on the immediate task - the pictures. "I never knew that putting makeup on could be so tiring," Brandon complained. He'd put on a high-collared coat to hide his huge tits; even the coat didn't disguise his vastly enhanced bust. Another guy-turned-to-girl sighed. "Try working with Randy. He's a cruel boss. My back is killing me from lugging around those lights and reflectors." "Oh, yeah? Well try spending hours changing into and out of swimsuits, posing in unnatural positions, and having to smile and look sexy." The model sighed as he leaned back on a sofa. "If I never change into a bikini again, it'll be too soon." One of the guys grinned. "Sounds good to me." Most of the guys who'd been changed hurled pillows, cushions, and other soft objects at the poor guy. Rob smiled. "Careful, Sam. Anya can make sure you get a real sore back tomorrow carrying around big tits all day." Anya turned, and then smiled. Brandon sighed. "We did pretty good, but I think we could have used more models." Anya nodded her agreement. "Greg and Randy were fighting over models most of the morning. We could have used twice as many girls." Brandon nodded. "Well, we'll get more for tomorrow morning." He yawned. It was late afternoon. Except for Randy and Greg, the others had stayed to play for a few hours, enjoying the park as guests of the old woman. After all, as she explained, they were helping her with advertising photos. Consequently, they were all pretty tired. "I think I'm going to get some sleep." He stood and, purely from reflex, stretched. His large bustline was well displayed, even through the coat. "Want some company?" one of the guys asked with a wicked grin. Brandon started to frown, and then he stopped. "No, I don't think so. I'm just going to go to bed. By myself. And lay naked on the sheets, licking and playing with my huge titties while I touch my hot wet clit. And thinking about how a real man would make me feel." He turned, and then smiled over his shoulder. "Sweet dreams," he purred as he sauntered out of the room, his butt swinging sexily. Anya and Rob were ready to choke on their laughter; the poor guy sat stunned, his mind running wild with the images Brandon had verbalized. He gulped; feeling himself getting turned on at the pornographic imagery, while he blushed at the laughter directed his way. It was going to be a long, lonely night for the poor guy. Rob turned back to Anya. "How many models do you want? We had, what, eight today? You think we should have twelve or fourteen?" Anya thought for a moment. "Greg said he thought that twice as many would be good. Can you get that many?" Rob thought for a minute. "We had two working on makeup, two cameras, and four assistants for each camera? With twice as many, we'd need at least one more on makeup. That's about thirty?" He stared at the ceiling for a moment. "Yeah, I think we can do that." Then a thought occurred to him. "What about Greg? Will he be able to help with the photography tomorrow?" Anya nodded. "He's got a pretty wide open schedule, so he should be free." Rob nodded. "We're going to have to do something for him," he said. "He's putting in a lot of effort for us on this project." Anya looked genuinely and pleasantly surprised. "Well, what about inviting him to join your fraternity?" she asked. It was Rob's turn to be surprised. "I wouldn't have thought of that. You know, we're just a bunch of..." Anya cut him off. "Guys trying to start a fraternity? Yeah, well, you might think about asking him. Even if he turns you down, it would be a nice gesture." Rob started to answer, but was interrupted by Greg and Randy. "Got the proofs ready," Greg announced as he offered his hand to Anya. She pulled herself to her feet. "You should see the darkroom he's got! Man, he's got the best gear I've ever seen!" Anya smiled, then glanced at Ron with an 'I told you so' look. *** "I've got five extra guys, just like you asked," Brandon said to Anya, puzzled by her last-minute request. "What's up?" Anya winced. Grandmother's request was strange, but not entirely unexpected. After all, if these photos were advertising copy, she needed ads for all sections of the park. "Well, it's like this." She explained what her grandmother had asked. Brandon's grimace was plain. "That's a pretty tall order, isn't it?" He was clearly uneasy about the whole thing. "I mean, that's a lot bigger change than what we've done so far." Anya's expression betrayed her discomfort. "Yeah, I know. But we need pictures of those areas, too." She watched as Brandon mulled over the request, and she knew that he was about to turn her down. "Grandmother said I can offer a hundred dollars each for the first group, and we can work out something with passes for both groups." Brandon thought. Some of the guys were enjoying visits to Bikini Beach; passes would be valuable commodities. "I'll ask, but don't hold your breath." He returned to the assembled group. "Okay, Anya has a kind of unusual request. Here's the deal. She'd like two or three volunteers to change into little girls for some pictures at the kiddie play area, and another two or three for the junior swimmer area." The reaction was exactly what Brandon expected. "You mean we'd be turned into little girls? For the day?" Brandon nodded, at which point the grumbling started to get loud. Brandon tried to silence the group. "Anya offered a hundred for each guy who changes into a little girl, and she said she'd work out something with passes for both the kiddies and the juniors." Brandon's words didn't stop the protests. All of the guys were upset at this last request. Being a girl, well that was one thing. But changing into a little girl, or even a toddler? That was too much. They started to condemn the offer. "Hold it, guys," Chuck's voice boomed out. "Look, we're trying to raise some money here, and the old woman and Anya have been pretty generous to us. The least we could do is a small favor to show her that we're grateful." He turned to Brandon. "Put me down for the kiddie group. No charge." Then he grinned. "Except maybe a day pass or two later on." Chuck's remonstration silenced the protests. Reluctantly, some of the guys followed his lead, even to turning down the money. As they reported to Anya, she smiled. She hadn't underestimated these guys after all. *** Rob instinctively patted the little pigtailed-girl on the head, looking down with a smile. The girl frowned. "Watch it, Rob. It's still me in here." The girl, a tiny little four-year-old, had been Chuck until moments ago. Now, Chuck was a short, slender little girl with long brown hair in pigtails, wearing a pink one-piece swimsuit. He looked too cute, Rob thought again. He glanced around and saw the other kids; two more cute little tykes, and three gangly girls about ten to twelve years old. Of the older girls, one had braces, which had upset the guy quite a bit, while another was just starting to show chest development. Rob suppressed a chuckle when he thought that these cute little girls were really college- age guys. Anya, however, wasn't about to hold her tongue. "You guys look great!" she gushed. "You're just perfect!" Chuck looked down at the sidewalk. "Yeah, well, this isn't a lot of fun," he grumbled in a high-pitched little girl voice. Anya smiled. "You'll have a ball. Now I think Greg's got the cameras set up over at the Kiddie Play Land. You and the other little ones run over, and you should be done quickly. Then you can hang out and play for the rest of the day. Oh, and I got one of our lifeguards, Liz, to agree to escort you for the rest of the day. If you want it, she'll get it." The girls nodded, and then scooted off at a quick little run. Anya watched them go with a curious, wistful look. Then she shook off the feeling and turned back. "You guys can hang out, or go ride some of the rides. It'll probably be forty or forty-five minutes before they're ready for you. Just make sure you're at the Junior Lifeguard Academy not later than seven forty-five. Okay?" The gangly young ladies nodded, then walked slowly into the park. Brandon walked briskly toward Anya, a curious smile on his face. "Hi, Anya. I'm all set for modeling today." Once again, he was transformed, but this time, he didn't have the exaggerated figure of Pandora Peaks. He was transformed into a modestly attractive young lady, with an above-average figure - just exactly what they needed for the calendar. "By the way, have you seen Greg yet?" Anya frowned. "No, why?" Then her eyes widened. "You're wicked!" she said as she slapped his arm. She turned and walked toward the Kiddie Play Land, to find Greg. Rob was puzzled. "What was she talking about?" he asked. Like Brandon, and indeed all the future Nu Rho Delta guys, he was changed by the magic of Bikini Beach into a young lady. Today, he was slated to be a model, and his figure today was curvier than the one he had Sunday. Brandon smiled. "Remember what Greg did to me yesterday?" No one in the dorm would ever forget that, not after Brandon came home with incredibly huge knockers. Rob nodded slowly, not sure he wanted to know where this was going. "Well, just as Greg was sliding his card, I flashed him a picture of Casey James." Rob's mouth dropped open. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed softly. "She's huge!" He glanced at his own ample and attractive breasts, and thought of what his profile would look like if he had those tits. A shudder coursed up his spine. Brandon grinned. "You should see him now. He's got the biggest knockers I've ever seen!" He laughed in his soft, feminine voice at the image of Greg. Revenge was sweet. *** It was another grueling day. Greg was busy with the Kiddie Play Land, then the Junior Lifeguard Academy. In the meantime, Randy used the verandas for some stills, with Old Man River meandering in the background. He returned to the lagoon, and then he used the volcano as a backdrop. By nine, Randy had taken all the stills he could - over twenty rolls. He moved his gear to some of the rides to work on action shots. As he set up to take a picture of girls emerging from the Tahiti Twister, an older and quite attractive woman sauntered up beside him. "I thought cameras weren't allowed," she said with the air of someone who expects to be listened to. Randy turned to see who was bothering him, and as a result, missed the shot. At the sound of the splash, he turned back, and then turned again to the woman. "You made me miss the shot!" he complained bitterly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" The woman started, then she started to show her anger. "Look here, young lady, I'm a member of this park, and I was assured there are certain rules. Like no cameras." Randy felt his temper rising. He started to reply, then turned to one of the assistants. "Go get Anya and find out who let this... this pest in!" Before anyone could move, Anya arrived, having sensed some potential trouble. "Oh, hi, Ronnie," she said, perplexed. "What are you doing here? We don't open until eleven." Ronnie gave Anya a quick hug. "I know, but when I saw the action down here, I just had to come have a look." She glared at the cameras. "And I found this!" Anya's mouth opened, as she understood. "Ah, yes. Your penthouse has a view..." Ronnie smiled. "And I saw a lot of action yesterday morning and again today. So I thought I'd find out what was happening in my favorite park." She glanced at Randy and the cameras again, and her features hardened. "I thought cameras weren't permitted." Anya nodded her understanding. "Normally, they aren't. But we found ourselves in a kind of bind. We need ad copy, and we..." Ronnie's features softened. "Ah, I see." She smiled. "So you take the pictures before your regular guests arrive. Smart." She studied Anya for a moment. "And what else?" Anya started, and Randy's mouth dropped open in surprise. Ronnie watched their reactions, especially Anya's, and laughed. "Come on, dear girl," she chuckled, "surely you don't think I can't tell when you're up to something?" Anya studied Ronnie for a moment, and then nodded. "I guess that comes with years of experience swimming with the sharks. Okay, the pictures are also going to be used in a calendar, to raise money for a fraternity. They need to raise money to renovate a house, or they'll lose their charter. So we agreed to help each other out." Ronnie studied Anya, then Randy. "So these are the nerds who are trying to renovate the gym." Anya frowned at her choice of words. She turned to one of the assistants. "Go get Brandon. Now." It took a second for the command to sink in, then the girl turned and scampered. Anya gazed at Ronnie again, and then she turned back to Randy. "You might as well get back to shooting," she said calmly. "We're wasting time." *** Randy and Greg, once again, were sequestered in the darkroom, while most of the remainder of the guys sprawled around the lounge. Notably, Ronnie Harris was sitting with them. Unlike the others, however, she sat properly, upright and ladylike. "I think we've got enough pictures for both of us," Brandon said calmly. "If the shots today come out as good as yesterday's." Ronnie nodded. "Who is going to do the printing?" she asked casually. Ron's eyebrows raised. This lady didn't miss a trick. No wonder she was such a successful businesswoman. "We got a good bid from PrintQuick," he answered. "And a three day turnaround, too. In fact, that was the deciding factor." Ronnie looked at him for several seconds, then she began to shake her head. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Brandon frowned. "Why not?" Ronnie laughed. "I've used them before. They may be quick, but their quality is lousy." She took a sip of soda; even that action was dainty and refined. "If it were me, I'd use RapidRepro. They're a bit more expensive, but they could turn around that job in two days, and their quality can't be beat." She took another sip. "Especially if I had a word with Sid." Ron sat silently, pondering. This woman was a powerful businesswoman, and she was suddenly interested in helping the guys. Something was up. His mind raced as he tried to figure out her angle. Anya, however, wasn't so hesitant. "Ronnie, what are you up to?" Ronnie tried to look innocent, the old 'who, me?' routine. It didn't convince Anya. She changed the subject instantly and turned back to Brandon. "How are you going to distribute the calendars?" Brandon was puzzled. "We're going to set up a booth on campus and sell them. And post notices. Oh, and an ad in the paper." Ronnie laughed, shaking her head all the while. "Oh, dear me!" she said, still shaking her head. "Anya," she said, sounding a bit disappointed, "haven't you given them any advice about distribution?" Anya scowled, and then lowered her head. "I hadn't thought about it. And you're right." Ronnie turned back to Brandon and Rob. "How many calendars were you thinking you'd sell? One thousand? Two? Or are you guessing?" She watched the sheepish expressions, and knew the answer. "That's what I thought." She smiled. "Okay, I've got a proposition for you. First of all, are you planning a monthly calendar, or a weekly?" "Monthly. Why?" Ronnie smiled. "Why not do both? You'd make a lot more money, and if the pictures from yesterday are any guide, you've got more than enough material to do both. Okay, here's the proposition. I'll help you with the business end, for a cut of, oh, say eight percent of gross." Brandon started to bristle. Here was a lady, who they had just met, trying to cut in on their deal. He was about to tell her what to do with herself when he felt Anya's hand on his arm. He turned, and she shook her head almost imperceptibly. He turned back, and then let out a deep breath. "All right. How about if you tell us why we should agree to your terms?" Ronnie didn't react as Brandon had expected. Instead, she just laughed. "You're pretty sharp, kid," she chuckled. "Okay, here's why. I had to work very hard to get where I am in life. It's my turn to help out the next generation of entrepreneurs. You kids are all pretty sharp. I talked to Anya's grandmother, and I know she could have taken advantage of you. I also know that you _didn't_ try to take advantage of her. That says a lot about your character." She smiled pleasantly. "And I know that that little prick Livingstone is trying to squash you guys. I always hated arrogant men." For the briefest of moments, her eyes flashed a deep hatred, and then they cleared. "So here's what's in it for me. I see a product that has a lot of potential. I can help you guys." She said the word as though she knew their secret. Rob, Brandon, Chuck, and a few of the others started. "Oh, yes. I know all about Bikini Beach and its magic." She smiled again. "You were thinking of one or two thousand calendars? How about fifty thousand? At twelve dollars each, with a twenty percent margin. My cut would be nominal - say ten percent of gross, and I'll take care of the distribution." Brandon did some quick calculations. "That's pretty optimistic, isn't it?" Ronnie laughed. "That's the _pessimistic_ numbers. And as I understand it, you guys are on a deadline. If you do this yourselves, you'll be lucky to make it. I can guarantee you'll make it by fronting the money against the profits." Brandon glanced at Rob, then at Anya. Anya nodded slightly; she knew Ronnie Harris very well, and knew that the lady was playing this straight. "This kind of decision I'll have to clear with the guys." Ronnie smiled. "I'd be shocked if you accepted _without_ checking." Greg peeked his head out from the corridor. "Pictures are ready," he chimed. "And they're even better than yesterday's batch." He saw the males in the room staring at him, and he blushed as he ducked back around the corner, holding his huge melons to keep them from jiggling too much. He muttered a silent oath, cursing Brandon for his trickery. His shoulders hurt, his back hurt, and these damned things bounced around at the slightest provocation. When he'd taken a momentary break, he'd discovered that the cup size was NNN; he was amazed that cups that big existed. Ronnie leaned closer to Anya. "Your boyfriend looks a little different," she said nonchalantly. "I can't quite place my finger on it, though." Brandon laughed, as did Anya. "Yesterday, he tricked me into having big knockers when I changed," Brandon explained. "So I decided it was payback time." Brandon was relishing the telling of the tale. "I flashed him this picture," he showed the image of the nude stripper to the ladies, "just before he swiped his card this morning." Ronnie tilted back her head and laughed, a hearty, rib tickling laugh. She enjoyed a good prank. After the laughter died down, she looked at Brandon. "One more thing." She watched his face cloud. "Oh, no. Nothing to do with the business deal. I wondered if I could ask a personal favor. I'd like to borrow your photographer - for a private sitting. The pictures he took are very good, and I'd like to get some of me. At Bikini Beach, of course." *** Brandon, Rob, and the group smiled as they handed the paperwork to Dean Livingstone. Behind them, Ronnie Harris stood, a smug smile as she watched the dean be forced to accept them as a fraternity. With no ceremony on his part, he handed the group a charter, then abruptly turned and stormed from the room. The remainder of the council, however, erupted in cheers. The boys had done it. They'd beaten the odds, and had formal charters from both the Nu Rho Delta fraternity, and from the university. And they'd gotten the loan, which enabled them to formalize the purchase of the old gym. Anya, Greg, and Ronnie walked with them back to the gym. Inside, they had set up a table with punch and snacks. A few girls were present, which surprised Ronnie; the guys had laid on a party to celebrate their status as the newest fraternity. Brandon handed Ronnie a glass of punch. "I'd like to say thanks, on behalf of all of us, for all your help." Ronnie accepted the punch, and then smiled. "I like being able to help. And making a few dollars from the whole deal isn't bad either." Anya had slipped up beside them. "So how are the calendars doing?" Ronnie started to say something, but Brandon interrupted her. "We're being sold coast-to-coast in BookMart, thanks to Ms. Harris. So far, we've made almost sixty thousand." Ronnie smiled. "And they're almost done with the layout for the weekly calendar, too. That should sell just as well. Maybe better." Brandon smiled broadly. "We owe you a lot," he offered. "Thanks." Ronnie smiled mischievously. "You can start thanking me by dancing." She took the surprised Brandon's hand and dragged him to an open area. With surprise grace, she began to dance with the startled boy. She glanced to Anya, and gave her a wink. Brandon might have bitten off more than he could chew, Anya thought as she watched him dancing with the older woman. As Anya watched, Greg and Rob sidled up beside her, Greg carrying a fresh glass of punch. She took it, and then smiled. "Greg, dear, could you get me a sandwich, please?" She watched as he walked off, and then turned to Rob. "Thanks for asking Greg to join. He's thrilled about the idea." Rob smiled. "Thanks for suggesting it. Greg's a great guy, and he's got a very good sense of humor. The guys really like him." Anya smiled. "Well, anyway, thanks. After what he's been through, belonging to a group is really good for him." Grandmother had been right; these guys were going to have a long and prosperous relationship with Bikini Beach. *** Epilogue: Brandon reread the letter, just to make sure he wasn't imagining things. When he was sure he was reading it correctly, he ran out to the lounge. "Guys, you won't believe what I just got in the mail!" he shouted, struggling to contain his excitement. The guys looked up, curious. "What's up?" Rob asked. Brandon was fighting to contain himself; Rob hadn't seen him this excited since, well, since his first sexual experience. "The editors of a major sports magazine saw our calendar." "So?" Chuck asked, wishing that Brandon would get on with the news. "What else?" Brandon grinned. "They're doing their annual swimsuit issue, and, well, to get to the point," he saw how anxious the guys were to hear what the gist of the news was, "they want to use Brandi, Samantha, and Tina in their photo shoot!" Sam stared at Brandon, his mouth agape. Tim was staring as well, equally surprised. "You're kidding, right?" he said uncertainly. Surely this was one of Brandon's gags. "No joke," Brandon grinned. "They're offering one week in Cancun, all expenses paid, plus ten thousand cash each, and royalties if they use our pictures in any calendar!" Sam looked thoughtful for a few moments. Then he turned to Tim. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to have to get a whole new wardrobe. I don't have anything to wear for Cancun!" He laughed, and the rest of the guys laughed with him. Brandon looked hopefully at the two guys. "I guess this means I should call Anya about getting passes for us, right?"