Planetary Agents 3g: Tentacles Of Doom free porn video

PLANETARY AGENTS 3: Tentacles of Doom - CHAPTER 7 ? by: Babs Yerunkle A teenaged girl, barely topping 5 foot tall, bounces into the room. She has close-cropped shaggy black hair, very large green eyes and projects WAY too much energy. The best description of her would be pixy, if not for her impressive figure. The girl looks at a second girl curled up like a cat in a pile of blankets. The second girl could be her twin, except for the open-mouthed snore, and the utter *lack* of energy. CRYS (looking at watch): Whoa, I've heard of long naps, but this is ridiculous. (Confidentially to audience.) She's just getting over her very first period, and you know how those wipe you out. Still, sleeping for sixteen months seems a bit much, don't you think? The girl in the blankets moans, something about, "Doug, you beast!" and begins snoring again. CRYS (artificially loud): I was just telling the audience about embarrassing DETAILS of your PERSONAL HYGIENE. GOOD THING YOU DIDN'T WAKE UP AND STOP ME. (Taps her foot for a moment. There is no reaction.) CRYS: She did rouse briefly in December, enough to promise an update, but I think she hit the 'snooze' button on her alarm clock again. (Loudly, to the lump in the blankets.) I hope I don't spill this bucket of COLD WATER. LUMP ON BED: *Snork* Sir Robert? That's not supposed to go in there! Ungle barkle firk. (begins snoring again) CRYS: (looking quite peeved) I guess it's time for the old 'ice cube' trick. Confidentially, I hate that almost as much as she does. Give me a second. (She stalks out of the room.) A moment passes in silence (except for the snores), then the lump on the bed suddenly springs vertically into the air, giving a screech that extends well into the ultrasonic. Bats and dogs in a one mile radius whimper and attempt to cover their ears. FORMER LUMP: CrysTAL! (She is rubbing all over her naked body, as if trying to restore circulation. She devotes particular attention to the groin region.) CRYS (re-entering room, drying herself off with an overly fluffy white towel): Well, ONE of us needed a cold shower. I just hadn't been expecting it to be quite *that* cold. 'Bout time you got up. CAITLIN (looking at watch): So I slept in a little. Thirteen hours isn't so bad. CRYS: Look at the date. CAITLIN (frowns, taps watch): That can't be right! CRYS (rolling eyes): On account of the fact that our previous audience has probably *died* by now, I think you owe it to their grandchildren to give a slight recap on what was happening before you had your little beauty nap. CAITLIN (in background): I've told you a *million* times not to exaggerate. CRYS: See, it all started with me. (Smiles winningly.) I'm the super-sexy girl-spy, tougher, smarter, and stronger than any man out there. (She brings an arm up, making a muscle, apparently unaware of how it makes her unclad form jiggle.) Thanks to the miracle of nanotechnology and spy gear, I designed myself the most sexy, desirable bod in the whole damn galaxy! Admittedly, I did get shot kinda dead a few months back... but I got better! CAITLIN (still in background): I don't believe this! CRYS: Anyway, with all my precious blood splashed around everywhere, due to an extremely unlikely set of circumstances, this fat, old, middle-aged GUY (hooks thumb toward her twin) got infected with my little nano- thingies, and ended up turning into my exact duplicate. CAITLIN (muttering in background): 'Unlikely set of circumstance?' I've seen more realistic cartoons! Come to think of it, this is really pretty much a rip-off of one of those cartoons -- CRYS (hurriedly): So now, not only does she have my great looks and mega- cute face, but she gets to be sixteen forever. She even got all of my moves, cause the nano-thingies overwrote the motor centers of her brain. The only problem is... through some means that we haven't quite figured out yet, we kinda have this 'telepathic twin' thing going. Not like we can talk or anything -- all agents get *that* telepathy -- but we sort of feel whatever the other one is feeling. It's like we're the 'Whore's Can Sisters.' CAITLIN (pulling hair): That's 'CORSICAN BROTHERS'! And you neglected to mention that since you're such an out-of-control nymphomaniac, that you deliberately designed your body with an 'elevated hormone level' which is driving me INSANE! CRYS (waves hand negligently): Don't blow a gasket. Now, where was I? She stretches her fingers out, and a circular black void appears beyond her fingertips. Reaching inside, she withdraws a cigarette and lighter, allowing the circle to shrink and vanish. CRYS (lighting up): Oh, right! The current mission. CAITLIN (snatching the cigarette away and stomping it underfoot): You don't smoke! Could you at least TRY to stay in character? CRYS: What a grouch. Someone sure got up on the wrong side of the bed. I was just giving a subtle demonstration of the old 'subspace purse.' It's an important plot device, you know. CAITLIN: Can we move ahead, to the good part? CRYS: Yeah, yeah. Anyhow, it seems that there's a bunch of super-famous scientists and stuff, from all the races in the Alliance. They helped create most of our secret spy-tech. They came up with the cool spaceships, the telepathy, the nanotech stuff, and more recently, the subspace purse. But one of 'em, we'll call him 'Dr. Tentacle Monster', he went bad. He attacked (and probably squished) the wise 'Dr. Teeny-Bug- Alien'. And now we think he's after the venerable and saintly 'Professor Einstein.' CAITLIN: His name is Dr. Benjamin Burchess. And he *is* a saint! What else do you call a man who donates all his patent money to treat addiction disorders. (under her breath) I wonder if he can treat nymphomania? CRYSTAL: I heard that! So anyhoo, Dr. Birch-ass is retired, puttering away working for some remote pharmaceutical company, and teaching the occasional class in ... high school? (frowns) Who writes this junk? CAITLIN: He said he liked fresh young minds. CRYS: Fresh, young -- yeah. Minds -- AS IF. Anyway, Dr. Prunebody needs a bodyguard, so who better than a pair of perky young high-school girls? And Amber came along to act as one of his research assistants. CAITLIN: Don't forget the modified tentacles, from that footage on Circe III. CRYS: Right. (smacks head) Wouldn't want to forget that. We got a little footage of 'Dr. Tentacle Monster'. Not only was he attacking a *human* girl, but his tentacle seemed to be modified in ways that no one has ever seen before (mumbles) unless they watch those nasty hentai anime. (Normal voice) But we haven't seen even a tip of Mr. Monster yet, although the author hinted that we might see him this episode. CAITLIN: Yeah, but we know he's here, because we can 'sense' him telepathically. CRYS: The author? She's a girl. Looks a lot like us, in fact (as least, in her dreams). CAITLIN: No, you idiot! The tentacle-monster! (under her breath) And there's a *reason* I write in first person, you know. CRYS (ignoring the loony): Right... Tentacle-san. Well, we sensed a 'new kind of telepath' somewhere on the planet, we just couldn't tell where. So we're keeping quiet on the old telepathic wavelengths. 'Radio silence' you know. Hmmm, what else? CAITLIN: You're forgetting the whole school setup? CRYS: Just getting there. Well, as the cutest and most popular new girl in school, I naturally joined the cheerleading squad, where I proceeded - CAITLIN: Forget that! The story's about me, the painfully earnest, cute young geek-girl. (muttering) Not about how many jocks you've done 'the nasty' with. CRYS (look of disbelief): 'Miss Shy' over there is trying to pretend she's oh-so-innocent, but don't believe it! Amber and I have been *all over* her hot little body. Why, one time, while Amber was kissing her -- this was in zero-G, of course -- I had my mouth on her -- CAITLIN (desperately): They don't want to hear about that! Uh, anyway, even if they do, it's not like I've done it with a GUY before... CRYS: Aren't you forgetting that Navy Lieutenant? Barrett Varden? CAITLIN: Uh, that was just once! Well, more than once, but just one night. We had to leave. New mission, remember? Which is what we're talking about. CRYS: Okay, if you're so hot on it, YOU tell them. CAITLIN: Good, I will. Let's see, did we mention the telepathic presence? Okay. So here we are on this swamp planet. Amber got a job as one of Dr. Burchess' research assistants working for Phelan Pharmaceuticals. Crys and I signed up with PHS (Phelan High School), or 'Fish' as most of us call it. I got in with the geeks -- CRYS: And I'm working my way through the sports teams! I joined the cheerleaders, so I could get the scoop on who was best. CAITLIN: Really? I'd wondered about that. CRYS: Well, research pays off. CAITLIN: Hmm? Oh, yeah! MY research. Well, while my sister was working her way into the sports teams -- CRYS: (sotto voce) or working THEM into ME. CAITLIN: -- I was meeting the best geeks. Let's see, there's Larry, Stano, Esker, and (sigh) Doug. Esker runs a Persona Stage. He's the Director, and does all the programming and stuff. Stano's the real computer whiz. And Doug... (happy sigh) ...Doug is just the cutest, kindest, sweetest guy, with the absolutely BEST hands -- and he knows exactly how to use them to please a girl, too! CRYS: Thank GOD she's on her period! If she wasn't, she'd probably be draining the poor boy dry. Not that that's a bad thing, but I really hate being stuck in the audience, you know? Besides, my contract guarantees that I get a *minimum* of thirty times more guys than her. CAITLIN: What? Right in your contract? Lemme see! AMBER (entering from opposite door): While they're engaged in a typical and completely in-character argument, let me cover a few other vital points -- CRYS: My points are a lot more vital than hers! AMBER: Caitlin let Doug 'scarf her' -- a sort of poor man's betrothal ceremony, and now she has to wear his plaid colors somewhere on her body. It's like showing an engagement ring. Caitlin has also met Katherine Forwanate, a homo-felis hybrid, or 'cat-girl' as she's commonly called. Caitlin, Kate, and Doug share a table in Dr. Burchess' class, and the three of them have become close friends. More importantly, Kate has discovered that Caitlin (and by extension, Crys and I) are all Special Agents. At least she believes the fall-back cover, that we're the mysterious race known as 'Logarans' and not just nano-reconstructed humans. Kate and Caitlin have been jogging together through the dangerous swamp trails, trying to spot Tentacle-san. When I think of those poor girls alone, on that abandoned trail, potential victims of that nasty tentacle-thing... CAITLIN (puzzled): Amber? AMBER: Well, it's not like I get that much screen time any more. I was a *star* in episode one. Now I'm lucky if I get a passing mention.... CAITLIN: I'm sorry! (Hugs her) CRYS: That's all the important stuff, aside from Caitlin's private life. As if we cared. CAITLIN: Hey! Those are all vital clues! CRYS: Shhh! They aren't supposed to know that yet! Drop it on them subtle. CAITLIN (suddenly crying): I got my PERIOD! They told me that agents weren't supposed to get periods! And now I'm all puffy and bloated and my bras don't fit, and it really, really hurts, and I'm bleeding and it's just disgusting, and I smell and... CRYS (smacks face with hand): Oh, real subtle. Her first little period and she goes all to pieces. CAITLIN: ...and it feels just GROSS, and I feel like everyone is staring at me -- which they sometimes are, and I think maybe Doug's going to hate me, and I'm kind of afraid to even let him touch me down there while I'm bleeding -- what if I disgust him? And it's not like I can take anything for the cramps, and... CRYS: While she's busy ranting, maybe I can give a quick wrap up to the rest of the unimportant stuff, like her life. Let's see. She's being bugged in school by the Danielle Niebel, the top of the social heap. If Li'l Caitlin was even half as awesome as I am she'd have no problem. But since she's a pathetic little geek-girl, they're trying to pick her to pieces. I heard she's got some nasty geek-payback coming though. They're probably going to take Danielle and mess up her pens or something. CRYS: Oh, yeah. She's now a gymnast, as well as being the 'mascot' of the gymnastics team. Too bad the cool girls -- by which I mean the cheerleaders -- have a bit of a conflict with the gymnasts. We're planning to use li'l Caitlin for our own purposes, starting this very morning. CRYS: And since we're posing as low-income students, I got her a job. She's -- get this -- a 'fashion consultant' at the local Milli-Cred outlet. Shyeah. Her? Like that makes sense. Anyway, the last point is that she seems to have fallen head-over-heels in love with some geek-guy. She *knows* that agents can't have more than a brief encounter with normal humans. As soon as this mission is over ? pfft -- we're gone. But no, she has to go bonkers over some dweeb named Doug Winrow, who -- CAITLIN: Doug? Don't you DARE say anything bad about Doug, you nasty harpy! CRYS: So without further ado, we present Chapter Seven of (ominous music fades in)... TENTACLES OF DOOM! ************************************************* LAST EPISODE: Our heroine didn't do her job AT ALL, she just did a lot of (very) heavy petting. Now she must pay the price: The Cheerleaders' Revenge! WARNINGS: Contains transgender themes, explicit sex, violence, bad words, and sloppy writing. No real people or deep characterization here, just bubble-headed sex 'n' violence in a thin candy coating. Don't read this if you are under 18 or over IQ 110. Not as funny as this intro might indicate. This episode 90% smut by weight. IMAGES: Naw, gave up on 'em. Couldn't get them posted anyway. EPISODES: This is in episodic format (one episode per download file). And it's sometimes a long dry wait between episodes. Be warned. See bottom for copyright and distribution. ************************************************* "Yes, Doug! Take me." I'd forgotten that he was so large and muscular. His washboard abs barely flexed as he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me in the air. He was fully erect. With two hands around my waist, he lowered me slowly down toward his waiting organ, while two more hands roamed over my stomach and back. Another pair of his hands caressed my breasts, and he leaned forward to give me a deep-tongued kiss. I was a-quiver with anticipation as his rod approached my trembling maidenhead and then -- the ice water hit. "CRYSTAL!" I sat up in bed, cold, wet, and NOT happy. "Do you have any idea what you interrupted? I was in the middle of the best dream yet!" "What is wrong with you?" she screeched at me. "I've been up for almost an hour and I've had to suffer through those damn second-hand climaxes FIVE TIMES now! You must have been a real horn dog, back when you were a man! I can't believe it! And you called ME a nympho? Maybe I should have done you back when you were a male." "As I recall," I said dryly (or as dryly as I could, climbing out of the sopping wet sheets), "you were suffering from a mild case of death at the time. And I'll bet that even *you* don't go for necrophilia." She blanched. "Not when I'm the corpse. Yuck! Where's the fun in that? On the other hand, if they're serious when they call them 'stiffs' then maybe..." I made a gagging sound as I made it out of the bed. A pile of clothes hit me in the face. "What are these?" "My clothes for today. We're swapping places." I had a momentary vision of Crystal going after Doug and my vision turned red, almost literally! "Whoa! Back off! Major jealousy flash. Look, I'm not even going to touch your boyfriend --" "You better not!" "--so back off. Besides, if yesterday was any clue, he'll spot me right off, though I still don't believe him on that 'slight resemblance' garbage." I help up the shreds of leather for her halter top. "Why exactly would I want to strut around in this thing, and why should I bother to swap with you?" "I promised the cheerleaders you would. We swap, you put on the cheerleader's uniform and train this morning, and then do a 'thing' this afternoon." "Uh huh. Keep going." "It's for the mission." I finished stripping off my soaking nightgown and glared at her. After a moment, Crystal handed me a towel and continued her explanation. "One of the cheerleaders, Tammy, her father runs the largest security service here. She promised that if we went along with this, she'd give me the codes to access the security feeds." I toweled off my hair and stared at her. "And the supposedly 'best' security firm on the planet just entrusts those codes to a teenaged girl." "Hey, it's not that bad. This are view-only codes. Can't alter or execute anything. They could almost be public, except there's a concern over..." "Over what?" "Well, voyeurism." I frowned, liking this less and less. "Let me guess, 'Tammy' never told her father that she swiped his codes, did she?" "Well, no. We have to keep it secret. She thinks I want the codes for, uh, ..." "For peeping on people, just like she does." Crystal gave a guilty smile. "Yeah." Amber placed both hands on my bare shoulders, turning me to face her. "It's only one day, and this *is* important to the mission." I huffed, but finally said, "Okay. But I'm sending Doug a mail, so Crystal can't pull any funny stuff." After a quick shower, I dashed off a few lines to Doug on my dataplaque: Lover, Crystal wants to swap places today, so don't let her get her grubby hands on you -- that's my job. I'll be dressing as a cheerleader most of the day. To make it up to you, once I'm 'ready' I'll wear whatever you like, and then let you undress me. OoooOOoo, I can't wait! XXX Your Caitlin I then unwrapped my towel and started dressing. "Hey, where's my panties?" Crystal stepped in, dangling the white garment from her fingertip. "These huge old things? Sorry. Won't work in the cheerleader's uniform. It'll show." I stopped to rub my forehead. What had I gotten myself into? "Okay, look," I said patiently, "I'm still having my period. I *need* the SaniPanties. And when am I supposed to get this cheerleader outfit, anyway? And if it's so skimpy, where am I going to wear my plaid? As a choker?" Crystal gave a predatory grin. "Two problems with a single solution. I am SO brilliant!" I stared at her like she was crazy, which she was. With a flourish, she held out her hand. There was the thinnest ribbon of plaid cloth. Dangling at the bottom was a tiny cylinder of white cotton. "A TAMPON!" My outrage was completely justified. Amber winced and used her index fingers to plug her ears. "Volume, dear. Anyway, Crystal's right. It does solve both of your difficulties." I tried to glare daggers at Crystal, seeing if I could actually materialize blades through the power of sheer malice. "The plaid is a symbol of honor and beauty," I told Crystal coldly. "I am not going to profane it by stuffing it up inside my bleeding hole." Crystal rolled her eyes. "Come on. You must be on the last day of your cycle. You aren't having super-heavy flow any more. This is just for safety." "What if Doug finds out?" That was what had me really worried. "What if he feels insulted?" Crystal had a wicked grin. "Offer to let him pull it out and inspect it. If you're ready, he gets to fuck you right there. I guarantee, the boy will be *delighted* to pull that little party favor out of your sexy hip lips. Just tugging your cute little plaid string out to be enough to stiffen him on the spot." "Uh, I don't know..." Damn her. She always did this to me. I was already starting to get that warm gooey feeling inside, just thing about him tugging away at me. Then when I was clean, he'd pull me down and impale me on his warmth, as he penetrated up into my belly... "Stop that! Damn, you need to get laid, girl." I grumbled all the way in to the shower. Inside, I skipped the normal eroticism of a hot, stinging hard shower on my nubile skin, and concentrated instead on reaming out my nether regions. If Crystal was right and this was my last day... "Hey!" My sicko psychic twin yelled in, "No time for the old hey diddle diddle. Finish up so I can dress you. You're going to be me, so you have to look extra sharp today." I pulled my finger out (hmm, looked clean, felt clean, even... smelled clean). Maybe today would have an up side after all. We'd just see if I had any more of the dripping ickies by this afternoon. After toweling off, I resolved to following Crystal's suggestion. I'd used tampons a few times before. I can't say I'm that fond of them, but I suppose I can put up with them. The trick is to put one leg up on the toilet seat, and then to sort of tense the muscles of your inner thighs. That spreads the lips and pulls you open a bit. You then use your left hand to part the inner folds, so the right hand can push the damned thing up inside you. You'd think the dangling string (or ribbon, in my case) would get damned irritating, rubbing against your inner folds, but it doesn't. You can't even feel it, really. You *can* feel the tampon itself, despite the claims. It doesn't make you feel full or anything. It's not a pressure, it's just...different, somehow. Subtly different. But the absolute worst part is the string dangling between your thighs, brushing your leg each time you take a step. I strode out to the main room, mortified beyond belief. "There. I'm wearing your damn plug. Happy now?" "Ecstatic. Now, let's see..." She brushed a fingertip over my lips. On my mouth, that is. "Brighter red. Vivid red." I adjusted my makeup implant until it was correct. "And your eyes..." She brushed her fingertips over my eyelids, deliberately sensual. "Typical liner. For God's sake, don't emphasize the eyes too much. But perhaps a bit of green shadow... here." She worked her way down my cheeks, adjusting colors under my chin, on my throat. I followed with my makeup implant. "Now, these nipples. They need to stand out, even covered by your shirt." "With the way you're touching them," I grumbled, "they can't HELP but stand out." "Hmmm, yes. Maybe later. Make them bright red, to match your lips." Her fingers worked their way down, adjusting more than most people's implants covered. Fingernails and toenails, check, bright red. Hand shading was a surprise. Navel liner? Ab blush? Who comes up with this stuff? Finally, her fingers drifted down to my hairless cleft. "And the last touch is just a touch of cunnie liner." "No way!" I attempted to ignore the sensation, as her finger circled my opening. "I am NOT going to put anything red down there!" "Of course not. Just a touch of dark, to emphasize the gap. Right...here." She drew her finger lightly across me, back to front, just inside the puffy lips of my labia. I shivered and complied. Arguing would only lead to more touching, and I wasn't sure I could keep control. "Good," Crystal finished. "Now you're made up properly, I get my revenge for this morning, and you're nicely horny. That's the secret to the whole cheerleader attitude: massive horniness." "Yeah, yeah," I muttered. "Can we get a move on?" "Okay. Panties." She handed them over and I slipped them on. One nice thing about having no pubic hair is that panties fit perfectly snug -- exactly skin-tight. I brushed my hand down the front, which followed my contours a bit too revealingly. Of course, I was still worried about that damned tampon. "Um, I sort of had an accident," I admitted, "the other day in gym class. How do I make sure the string doesn't slip out?" Another thought struck me. "Come to think of it, this isn't going to work at all. Part of the tradition is that the plaid is supposed to be visible, even if it's only a corner or something." Amber stepped back in the room. "I have just the thing." She reached into the bathroom and came back with a tiny piece of tape. "This wouldn't work if you had hair, but you can tape it up, in front." She pulled down my panties, reached down to grab the ribbon, and pulled it up to my mons, where she taped it in place. It was one of the most strangely erotic sensations I've felt. She didn't put much of a tug on the ribbon, but I couldn't help clenching tight as she lightly pulled on the wad inside me. Then the ribbon was threaded up through my cleft, laying directly over my clitoral hood, before she taped it in place on my hairless mons. I looked like an old-fashioned "pull string to open" package. "Of course, you'll have to undo it to pee," Amber said, daintily, "but you'll want to change tampons when you do that anyway." "Uh huh," I managed, trying to control the shivers. "And fortunately for you, Crystal used an extra-long ribbon. So once you have your pants on, you just snip it off so that only a little bit is showing." I tried not to think about that. I sure didn't want the string showing. But underneath my navel? Would anyone figure it out? "Okay," Crystal took control again. "Long black pants. Leather." "With a halter top?" She nodded. "You've got to keep shifting your focus point if you want to keep their eyes on you. Today, they can peek at the tits. Tomorrow, maybe I'll wear a miniskirt." "Add a Phelan logo necklace sized so that it just falls into your cleavage, and we're set." "Great." I tried to make the word as droll as possible. "Hey, you're the lucky one. You get to dress nice. I have to find something deliberately rumpled and dumpy looking." "Dumpy looking?" This time I managed to keep the high tones out of my voice. "There is an ART to looking sexy without having to be blatant or dressing up like a hooker." So we spent another half hour while I got to run my hands over Crystal's body, getting the proper soft sweater, pants that subtly illustrated the lines of waist, hip, and thigh, something to draw interest to my neck, all the touches that Crystal usually could care less about. "There." I stepped back to look at 'myself.' Nerd girl in glasses, but pretty cute despite all that. Then I looked in the mirror, to study how Crystal had decked me out. Oh dear. "Not exactly subtle, is it?" "Subtle is not the goal here." I placed my hands over the zipper of my shorts. "Maybe I should just slap on a sticker here, saying 'Please fuck me.'" "Naw," Crystal waved her hand dismissively. "Just ask in person. It gets better results." "Hmph." ***** So we were later to school than usual, but still (barely) in time for classes. Strutting along as Crystal was an experience. Between the skintight pants and the heels, my natural stride turned into a hip-rolling gait. I could actually feel my hips swaying and tipping side-to-side as I walked. And up top, I was acutely conscious of my breasts preceding the way ahead of me. If I turned to look at anyone, I felt like I was swinging around the boom on an old sailing ship. Avast there! And when I stopped turning, I continued to jiggle. I was afraid that everything was showing past her skimpy halter, and half worried that I'd fall out at some point. "Hey," she whispered, "if you think you're naked now, wait until they give you the cheerleader outfit." "I've seen 'em. They give more coverage than this outfit." "You'll see, sis, you'll see." At the steps by the main entrance, Doug greeted 'Caitlin,' but his eyes fenced with mine. He'd obviously gotten my mail, but seeing him take the arm of my sister almost made me want to flatten her. I tried to give him a look that promised we'd be together soon, then sauntered my way into the school. One of the things Caitlin had warned me about was that cheerleaders got touched a lot. As I slinked toward Crystal's locker, probably two dozen different guys passed by me, each taking the opportunity to pass a friendly hand over my shoulder, or the bare skin of my back, or my bare belly, or just a passing stroke up one arm. "Hey, Crystal!" "Wow, looking good, babe!" "Hellooooo, foxy girl!" And I'd answer back with one of Crystal's classic innuendo lines: "Hi. How's it hanging?" "Thanks, stud!" or the blatant, "Hey! Did you just cop a feel?" "Uh... no." "Well why not?" Heh heh. That one was going to get Crystal in trouble. Now if I could just survive the rest of the day. And while I knew these guys were all on one or the other of the teams, I was reminded again of just how big they were (and, relatively speaking, how small I was). Their hands were huge. One of them gave me a pat on the butt, and I swear, he had both cheeks in his massive palm. As always, I gave Crystal's little wiggle-squeal (she's such a blatant tart), but I could see why she did it. It was comforting in a way to be enfolded in everyone's caress, to be the teasing little pixy to all these massive gorillas. And while they were busy (from their lofty vantage) looking down the front of my shirt, I couldn't help checking out the swellings in their trousers. Did the larger boys have proportionally larger sizes? Things might have been different if not for my "agent" advantages. As it was, I was playing a part, but I wasn't in real danger. Not from unenhanced normals. Not from schoolboys. And without that element of fear, I was free to blatantly play the role that Crystal had forced me into. So I let it all swing free. I didn't try to hold back on my strut. I'd forgotten how my hips tended to swing when I wasn't consciously toning down my natural walk. Just one of the things I'd inherited from Crystal. When I'd accidentally infected myself with her nano- program, I'd picked up the whole program. And Crystal had hard-coded her reflexes and movement patterns. So now, unless I spent close attention, my natural movements were a computer-calculated amalgam of the "sexiest" women on record. At least, according to Crystal's definition of sexy. Which tended toward "blatantly slutty." I couldn't even turn to look behind me without slinging my boobs around. So I walked down the hallway, turning to look at people I passed, and all the while my hips were rolling and my boobs were jiggling, and all I could think about was how much I was missing my boyfriend, and the way he'd touched me last night, and how much I hated Crystal for sticking me with this enhanced libido. And most of all, how much I hoped my period was finally over, because I wasn't sure I could hold out much longer. "Hey, girlfriend. Ready to dress up?" I looked at the tanned girl in the glitter pants (how was she getting a tan on *this* planet?). "Uh, Rana, right?" She smirked and gave me a hidden wink. "That's right... Crystal. Now, just follow me into the locker room and we'll get ready for our practice." If the girl's locker room was a bit disturbing, the cheerleader's changing area was doubly so. There was still enough guy left in me to appreciate (!) the sight of four other girls stripping down and making themselves up, just to put on even sexier outfits. Face it, what red- blooded guy hasn't had a cheerleader fantasy? And now, I was a central part of that, even if I was on the other side of it now. A raven-haired girl with a rather over-sized superstructure came toward me. I tried not to stare, but it was hard. First, she was completely naked. Second, like me and all of the cheerleaders, she was shaved clean. But mostly, it was the fact that her D-sized tits were totally defying gravity. I mean, this girl didn't have a millimeter of sag, and she jiggled like it was the real thing. I didn't mean to stare, but D-sized boobs just don't act like that. I wondered if she had internal ligaments, like I had. "Hi. I'm Tammy." "Oh, yeah. You got Crystal the aerobics job, didn't you?" "Uh huh." She noticed my stare and gave that chest-out pose (like she needed it), turning to the side. "Pretty impressive, aren't they?" "Well, uh, yeah. How do you -- wait a minute." Before I could think better about it, my hand was reaching out to touch the skin of her shoulder. "Hey, that's a bra strap!" She placed her own hand over mine. "If I'd know you were into girls, I might have arranged more time for play." "Uh," I could feel myself starting to blush. At least they wouldn't see my 'interest' behind the leather of my halter. "I'm not ... well, that is, I am, but no I mean what I really want is a certain boy to be into me." I smacked myself in the face. "I did NOT mean to say that." "What you're touching, hon, aside from li'l ole me, is a prototype product of Phelan Pharmaceuticals: the 'life bra.'" Trying to subtly pull my hand back, I looked her over. Even looking closely, I could barely spot the lines on her skin. You know when you take a bra off and you have those little creases in your skin? This was kind of like that, only in reverse. Except there was only the barest hint of line, and only as it crossed the bone of her shoulder. Tammy continued her explanation. "That's your locker over there. Strip down and I'll explain to you. We've already got you sized -- you'll use your sister's. She has one of the earlier, non-permanent prototypes. Mine, though, is permanent. It's still bonding, but this is based on skin-graft technology. It just adds the proper carbon- fiber support. Once the bonding is done, it will be part of my real skin, with nerve endings pulled to the surface and everything." "Okay," I said. "I guess that explains why a pharmaceutical company is putting out a bra." I slipped out of my halter and pants, trying not to be obvious about my interest in the girls around me. "So how does it work?" I spotted a pack of flesh-toned bras in Crystal's locker and pulled one out. "It's really a two-man job," Tammy said. "Or rather, a two-girl job. After all, the final models are supposed to be permanent, so it's worth spending some time getting it right. Your sister's one of the unlucky few that can't match with the standard skin graft, so you two have to use temporaries." "Uh huh." I'm sure our nano-units ate the skin graft for lunch. Literally. I shrugged into the bra. It was stretchy, and felt very much like skin, except for the stretchyness. But the front of the bra didn't have cups, it had two little half-circles that my breasts rested on. Kind of like a shelf bra, only more so, if that makes sense. So I was wearing an over-the-shoulder, round-the-chest fake- skin harness, and it was all to support these two small half-cups that supported the underside of my breasts. And they weren't really 'cups', just properly shaped shelves. "Okay, sorry about this, but Mandi's going to have to help you fit it on. Her mother was on the design team." A buxom blonde jiggled toward me, doing the gravity-defying act like everyone else in the room. I had to admit, it was *damned* sexy. I predicted that Phelan would sell a zillion of these things. "Hi. Excuse my fingers, but I have to get the fit just right." "Ooooh, that's oookay," I said, trying not to bite my tongue as she stroked my breast, settling me 'just right' into each not-a-cup. It wasn't like I could really get any harder right now anyway. "There, that's got it. Not that you really need it, girl. You're remarkably firm, aren't you?" She took out a small vial of cream. "Okay, now I have to rub this on the inside..." She started with the back strap, pulling it out as if she were going to snap me. She rubbed the chill cream on the inside of the bra material, let it fall back into contact with my skin, then rubbed both to 'set' it. She followed with the sides, and straps, the band in front. By now, the back piece felt like it was glued in place. It wasn't really uncomfortable, just like having an extra thick bit of skin. Perhaps like a bra-shaped callous. "Okay, now we do the cups." She lifted me out of each not-a-cup, greased 'em up, and settled me back in the exact right position. I was riding a little high, even for me. "Oh my," I breathed. "You really are *just* like your sister, aren't you?" She gave both my nipples a light flick with her long fingernails and I gasped. "Mandi... please don't." "You sure seemed to like it." "Look," I growled, "either fuck me or leave me alone! Don't tease." Tammy, the leader, stepped forward again. "Ah, but that's exactly the point. Here, I think it's been long enough for the bonding to set. Try a little jiggling." She did a shoulder shimmy to show what she meant. Her incredible gravity-defying breasts jiggled side-to-side just fine, exactly as you'd expect. Up and down movement was about normal, for a girl that had absolutely no sag. I tried it too. This wasn't a completely novel sensation. With my internal ligaments, I was self-supporting, I just didn't get much chance to flaunt it in public. Actually the bra felt a little bit more supportive than my ligaments. It was as if Doug were behind me, holding me up with his hands. Nothing covered the top or sides of my breasts, and it wasn't a hard support, like with a real bra. I could still sag down, especially when I jumped or was active. The flesh-bra just gave enough support that my breasts didn't *pull*. The were supported. I danced around a little, testing, watching myself in the big mirror. I looked pretty good like this! I might not be a D-sized giant, like some, but these C-cups looked pretty good on my tiny little waif-body. Just call me Miss Perky from now on. "Now you're getting it," Tammy said. Looking over my shoulder, I could tell she was interested. I think sometimes those buxom girls get kind of intrigued by us perky-elf types. I bent over in a classic cleavage-teaser pose, giggling, while I swayed back and forth for her. "Yup, she's got it," agreed Kelly, the fourth cheerleader. "Tammy's the one who figured it out," Rana explained. "Teasing is what being a cheerleader is all about." "It's classic Freud, really," Tammy explained. "Libidinous energy in the id powers the entire psyche. The more we tease people, the more energy we build up in their id. Then we just have to give a few hints and suggestions for appropriate outputs for that energy and BINGO! Incredibly successful sports teams. We've traveled to three other systems for championship competitions." "And you get better at teasing than this?" I asked, in awe. All five of us were naked as the day we were born (not counting invisible under-breast skin-bras), and we'd just engaged in a mild jiggle- competition. Rana smirked. "Girl, you really are naive, aren't you? You can't tease even halfway decently when you're naked. For a really GOOD tease, you need clothes." That's how they explained it, as they helped me dress. The masterpiece was the shirt. I called it that for want of a better word. It was a slippery blue satin, with about a third of the material of a normal shirt. It was cut high in back (to prove that we were all 'braless'), then curved down to circle under the breasts. It had about a centimeter of sleeve, and very wide arm holes, giving generous peeks at the underarm, rib side, and side of the breast. The wide collar turned into a plunging neckline that displayed plenty of cleavage. The single button in front strained from the pressure as my assets moved within, sometimes straining the satiny material. Finally, the silky, shiny blue material was simply sensual. And since I was essentially bra-less, every time I moved I shifted loosely inside the blouse. The ... rubbing ... sensation was pretty difficult to ignore. The movement was the reason for the design. The special bra made it *seem* that we were braless, which made things extra intriguing to the male audience. Normally, we would have needed support. The half- blouse didn't supply any. It barely concealed at all, and looking in the mirror I realized that I could barely move without shifting around and jiggling inside the shirt. So what you had was a braless girl in a shirt that didn't support her (more a case of *us* supporting the shirt) and the eye said, "That can't be right." After all, no one is that firm. But we were. And you kept trying to look, to spot the trick. Studying myself briefly in the mirror, I realized that with the stimulation, it was easy to track the hard tips of my breasts as they migrated about. I was also afraid that I was going to fall out at any moment, but Tammi assured me that it was another part of the illusion, and we were perfectly safe. "Uh, how do you keep from moving so much?" I asked. "The satin is kind of rubbing me... you know?" "Bouncing around in a shirt that feels like that, you can't help but get turned on. And the more turned on you are, the better the show is. That's what we're here for. The display, the show, and the teasing." "'Couse the sex doesn't hurt either," Rana admitted. "After a few hours in this outfit, you'll be willing to fuck a broom. Fortunately, cheerleaders usually have their pick of the boys." I rolled my eyes. I swear, I really have to stop thinking of myself as a sex maniac. Compared to these bimbos, I was tame. Heck, even Stano was fairly normal. But Tammy and Rana weren't done dressing me. "Okay, next comes the half vest." Tammy handed me a white suede vest that came down no lower than my bra band (if I'd been wearing a normal bra). "Okay, what's the point of this?" "Why does everything have to have a 'point'?" Tammy asked. I glared at her until she gave in. "Okay, not only does it look fancy, but it tends to flap a lot, drawing attention back to the breasts. More teasing, right? And with the shirt alone you can practically get a whole side-shot of your boob --" "I'd noticed that." "Yeah. Well, this makes it trickier. All the boys will be watching, to try to get a glimpse. It's like panty shots, you know?" I scowled. "You mean you give people panty shots *deliberately*?" "Well, duh. Speaking of which..." The panties were about the skimpiest pair I'd ever seen, and pretty darned sheer. "Skin tight" described it well. I snorted. "Ordinary cotton? I'm surprised you don't have us wearing silk panties." "Naw, you'll need something absorbent. You'll want to change every hour or two, believe me." "Okay, let's see. Did Crystal get you to put on cunnie liner? She stared at my crotch. "Gee, that's almost too blatant." "You can TELL?" I realized that I was perhaps a bit shrill. "It's supposed to be just enough to give a hint when we flash them a panty shot. What did you do? Outline yourself with a magic marker?" "Wait a minute," Kelly said, "it looks like some sort of ribbon." "Oh, that." Embarrassed, I pulled down the front of my panties. "See? Tampon string. Only it's a long ribbon, done in my scarf colors. I let just a teeny corner peek over the top button of my pants." "Gawd!" Tammy "That's *obscene!* I am SO jealous. I am definitely stealing that idea, next time I have my cycle. 'Specially if I tell Jack. He'd just piss himself, looking at it all day long, wanting to grab it and pull on it." "Ummm, can we change the subject?" My knees were suddenly knocked together. On the other hand, I wondered again about Doug. What would it feel like, if he gently tugged it loose? I wasn't really bleeding any more, so it might not be gross. "Uh," I tried to control my breathing. "You mentioned changing panties? Could I do that now?" Fortunately, the toilet was right there. I hadn't realized that you could 'overflow' with a tampon in, but the little plug was soaked right through. And when I came out with a half-meter of ribbon dangling out of me, the girls watched intently as I taped myself up, trimmed the ribbon, and then pulled on the replacement panties. I was seeing the start of a new fashion trend. "Can we just move on with the dressing, now?" Once we all had proper, dry panties on, they handed me a matching blue miniskirt. It rode low enough on my hips that I had to re-trim the ribbon. Fortunately, the other girls all shaved, so no one was showing any hair. "Okay," Tammy said, "we all need hose." She took a film ring and stuck her leg through, wrapping each leg in the extruded fabric. "The trick is to bring the hose to exactly three centimeters from your panties. We need to leave that gap of naked skin. It really adds to the effect when we give a panty shot." She passed the ring to Rana, and it eventually passed round the circle to wind up with me. "And last of all," she said, "the earrings, ears, and boots." She brought out a pair of purple suede ankle boots, a pair of stud earrings with small lavender balls, and a pair of lavender cat ears that clipped into my hair, like a bow on the top of my head. "Let me guess," I said dryly. "I'm the porno cat. No, the famous planetary pussy." Kelly scowled, not amused in the least. "You're the Phelan Fox, obviously." "Uh huh. Great." Tammy was up and bouncing (and I do mean bouncing). "Okay everybody, let's do the routine. And let's see if Caitlin can handle our moves." ***** That entire morning, we had the gym to ourselves. They had a few basic acrobatic maneuvers, but most of what they wanted to practice were a set of synchronized dance moves. Kelly pulled out a dataplaque and tapped a few keys. Immediately, soft overhead spotlights came on. They weren't bright enough to provide glare, but they were definitely visible. At the same time, the floor lit up in soft gray panels. She looked at me expectantly. "Your sister said you knew how to do sequence dances?" "Oh, yeah! I thought this setup looked familiar!" "Sequence dances haven't really make it to Okefenokee yet, but one of the senior cheerleaders brought the idea in three years ago. Not only do we get to practice modern dancing, but we can use it for coordinated cheers. Let me try you on one of our simpler moves, and if that works, I'll put you on a longer one." The four girls moved into a line, with me on the far right end. "Don't bother with the cheer yet," Tammy told me. "Just get the moves down." Kelly tapped the 'plaque, then clipped a remote unit to her hip. She stepped in line, then said, "Go." The lights flashed, the colors flickered, and I let my body move in the rhythm. I had learned way back that Crystal had wired us with the patterns for sequence dancing. All I had to do was relax and "go with the flow." So as the lights pulsed, I felt one arm shoot up, the other down. One leg forward, one back. Of course, the lights only give you the basic moves. Everything else is style and interpretation, so I had to watch the other girls, too. We all pulled our back legs forward, raising the knee high, then snapped it into an overhead kick (and quick panty shot). Their trick was to throw their heads back at the same time. We're the girls of Phelan And you boys are the best, So if you think that you can score We'll let you hold our vests! We had a quick side-to-side, hands-forward, hands-up, then the whole hands-shimmy-down-the-sides thing. The tricky part was tracking what the other girls were doing with their heads. Overhead lights gave you cues for hands and arms, floor lights cued legs and feet. But the head and face was always personal interpretation. In this case, they were looking away, then looking back coyly, with pouty kissy faces. And if you made this next shot We won't have to bang the drum, Your skills are so impressive We promise to succumb! Now we were getting a little more athletic, with a spin, kick, spin, double-kick. After that, there were some side-steps, while they did this thing with their arms and shoulders that didn't follow the lights at all, but looked *great*. So come on guys, let's beat 'em Don't hold back -- confront! And if you win, then afterwards We'll show you cunning stunts! Now it was a hand-on-hips strut, followed by a kick-into-a-backflip, dropping down to front-back splits. These last bits also didn't follow the lights, but I was keeping my eyes on the girls and managed to follow, pretty well in sync. We were ignoring the lights completely now, as we rocked forward, taking weight onto our hand while swing the legs back, then pushing forward into a somersault, then springing up. I was a little rough here, but suddenly they were dancing to the lights again, and I was back in sync. You boys are the very best So dominate those courts! 'Cause if you make just one more move I'm going to scream "My sports!" And finally, at the end, they all threw their hands in the air and jumped about randomly, shouting "Sports!" "Sports!" "Hey, pretty good, newcomer!" Kelly tossed her long red hair back and shook it out. It was a wonder that she kept the tangles out, the way we moved. "Thanks," I said. "But I was off on a lot of the head moves. That shimmy thing was great! And I wasn't quite on for the backflip, but I might get it if we go again." "Sure, good idea." "Hey," it suddenly struck me, "I wasn't listening closely, so maybe it's my imagination, but wasn't that cheer kind of... I don't know... suggestive?" Rana laughed -- really more of a giggle. "Yeah, on purpose. Remember Tammy's whole 'Freudian' idea. I got it out of _Cheer_Weekly_. I think it's translated from some other language. The column's called 'Sang-Froid Slips,' although I'm pretty sure Freud's first name was actually Smegmund or something. But they've got some great cheers! I've got a subscription, if you want to take a look." "No thanks," I said. "I'm really a geek-at-heart. This is a one-time thing for me." "Too bad," Rana said. "You'd make a great addition to the team. Of course... we don't just tease. Usually, after the games and all, we *do* get pretty friendly with the team." "Oh, no!" I held up my hands. "That's Crystal, not me. I've got just one boyfriend, and that's it. Anyway, I let him scarf me, so he's got sole claim on me." "Oh, yeah!" Rana glanced down at the front of my skirt, where a spec of ribbon poked over the waistband. "Who's the lucky guy?" "Doug," I said, trying not to let my voice go all dreamy. "Doug Winrow." "Winrow?" Mandi scrunched up her face. "Eww. He had the gall to ask me out last year. We made it a point to teach him his place." "Well LAY OFF, okay? Besides, it's not like he's going to be bothering you any more!" "Why?" she leered at me. "Are you giving him any?" I gave her a look that reflected my internal misery. "I'm having my stupid god-dammed period, remember?" "Lord, don't I know how that goes!" Kelly agreed. "'Specially when your hormones go all whonkers on you." "Okay," Mandi decided, "we'll agree to lay off him, for good, if you agree that, first chance you get, you fuck him till his eyes cross." "Lunchtime," Tammy ordered. "Remember, we're on stage, girls. We've got a show this afternoon. Hit the cafeteria, and make sure that everyone knows, and that nothing male would even *dream* of missing our show." ***** We showered (not removing the invisible flesh-bras), and changed to clean copies of the same outfits. The girls showed me where they thought I ought to be putting perfume. (Okay, so I tried it -- who knows, maybe tonight? I kept my fingers crossed.) Then we headed to the cafeteria. ***** This was my first time in a mixed crowd as part of the cheerleader pack. By now, I was getting a little tired of having perpetually stiff nipples. I was also feeling more sympathetic with Crystal's typical attitude. I was starting to reach the point where I was ready to fuck anything that moved. Unfortunately, what I *really* wanted was Doug. His skin on mine, his mouth on me, his body IN mine. Instead, all I saw in the cafeteria was a bunch of randy young studs who were watching us like we were the buffet at a famine convention. Glancing at the other cheerleaders, I saw that they seemed to have a similar look of hunger and need. Damn. So the pack of us slinked past the lunch tables, exuding enough raw sex and need to power a small city, while the entire male population tracked us with an almost matching hunger. Not to mention the female populace that tracked us with more than a little resentment. I felt like half of a magnet, suffering from a simultaneous push and pull. I wondered if there'd ever been a spontaneous orgy in the cafeteria. I really needed a distraction. Almost anything would do. "Well, they're obviously from the 'less is more' school." "It's so much cheaper that way, don't you know." "The only thing that isn't cheap about *those* girls is their implants." Danielle and company had been chatting away, in their usual mood of flaying any convenient victim. I honestly don't think they realized how loud they were (and how quiet the rest of the cafeteria had become) until everyone was staring at them. Danielle (who hadn't spoken until then), seemed to take up the attention eagerly. "Well," she said, with an eye toward her surrounding audience, "I'm sure that's a little unfair. We can't all be born with impeccable fashion sense." Tammy got a look in her eye. With a smoldering smirk, she began to saunter toward Danielle's table. She wasn't exaggerating her movements. If anything, she was toning it down. But every eye was on her. I felt my own high school life flashing before me again. Wait, what was I saying? I was in high school, and this time, I was one of the cheerleaders! "Say something?" That's all she said, standing before their table all alone, just the two of her. (I slapped myself, mentally. That 'life bra' really did amazing things, especially to Tammy's D-cup.) "Uh, just talking about the fashion show. We can barely wait until this afternoon." "Good. I'll see you there." Tammy paused, to give a completely sinful stretch. "And I'm sure that everyone will be able to see *me* there." And she spun on one heel, and sauntered away. ***** Tammy sucked at her straw. "THAT is how you advertise a show." "I can't believe it," I muttered. "Danielle... she just backed down." "She didn't want another duel," Rana said, popping a tater-tot into her mouth. "Last time it was almost sad. The guy didn't even bother kissing Danielle." I just raised my eyebrows in question. "Cheerleader's duel," Kelly explained. "The challenge-ee picks a guy. It's dueling for attention. Whoever he leaves with, wins." "Yeah, but it helps that when I make promises with my eyes, I never bluff," Tammy said. "Wait --" I was confused. "--Are you saying? You don't--?" "Uh huh." I was *definitely* not cut out to be a cheerleader. Of course, I wasn't really suited for the sex-trade, either. And the way Crystal and these girls operated, I wasn't sure that I could see much difference. It hadn't been like that back when I'd gone to high school. At least, I don't *think* it had been like that. I'd never really operated in those circles (back then, I mean). Speaking of circles, I hadn't realized before that the cafeteria was actually a large circular room. Due to the plants and barriers set around, it wasn't obvious from where I usually sat. On the other hand, it was obvious from my current table, in the exact center. We were on a raised platform and everything. And it wasn't long before the jocks homed in on us. "Hey, Squeaky!" Before I could react, a somewhat oversized fellow dropped into the seat beside me. When the cheerleaders sat down at their table, they (we?) left empty seats between us. I'd thought that was just to provide psychological distance and personal space. To my chagrin, I suddenly realized that it was to provide room for ...others... to join us. This latest fellow had to be a test platform for steroid drugs. Easily 190 centimeters tall, he probably had a chest that was nearly 140 centimeters. His arms were thicker than my thighs -- and I'm not talking about his upper arms, his *forearms* were thicker than my thighs. Before I'd had a chance to do anything more than pop my eyes wide, he snaked a gorilla-like arm around my chair (and waist) and pulled me over next to him. "Remember that question you had the other night?" As he spoke, he inadvertently revealed that dental hygiene had not been one of his top priorities. "Well, I mentioned the possibility to Thud, here --" At this point, another fellow dropped into the chair on my other side. He obviously hadn't shaved in nearly a week, and I think he'd been wearing the same shirt for about that long. "Yeah," Thud said. "I wasn't sure at first, but I talked to some of the guys, and they said to go for it." I tried to halt my convulsive swallowing. What the HELL had Crystal gotten me into? Obviously, I wasn't going to be going through with whatever perversion she'd promised, but even sitting here in her place, letting her friends Cro and Magnon paw over me was growing ever more repulsive. How would she react? What should I say? And how was I going to get out of here? "Uh... really?" I managed, weakly. "What exactly did they have to say about...uh...my suggestion?" Gorilla1 picked up the thread. "Well, they were surprised, but eventually that turned to jealousy." Gorilla2 jumped in, "Yeah, but they got plenty eager when we told them you said we could record it." Gorilla1's hand slid across my belly, and I'm afraid I let out just a bit of an "eep!" sound. It's not like he touched anything aside from my belly, but what hair I had was beginning to stand on end. Tammy leaned forward. "What's this about, *Crystal*? You didn't mention this to any of us." "I didn't?" I tried for a laugh. "It must have -- ha, ha ? slipped my mind. Uh, boys? Why don't you fill them in?" "Fill THEM in?" Gorilla2 seemed confused. "But you said you wanted us to fill YOU in. Oh, right! I get it." Gorilla1 took up the slack, never loosening his hold around my waist. "Well, it start up yesterday afternoon. You remember when we were at the play, and Crystal suddenly started to get so fidgety? Well, she starts wondering how many guys a single girl could do, all at the same time." "Yeah, so me and Thud --" "That's *your* name." "Oh, yeah. Anyway, we decided, just for scientistic reasons, to take her up on her offer." "But then she starts getting creative. It's like, she was really getting into it. She was squirming like she was gonna explode. Like she's getting off on the whole idea of it." "Yeah, and then these ideas start poppin' outta her head, stuff that I've never even THOUGHT of." "Right!" Gorilla1 let go of my waist long enough to gesture, making his point. "And I ask myself -- where am I gonna get both a goat and a snake?" That was the final straw. Before they could blink, I was standing ready to take off. "Uh, I gotta go!" I said. "I have to, have to, go to the bathroom!" Where *was* Crystal? I was ready to lay into her like -- That's when the laughter penetrated. Gorilla1 reached over for my hand and gently pulled me back to my seat. He could barely talk, since he was laughing so hard, but he managed a weak, "Don't worry, Caitlin." "I--" Hold on. 'Caitlin?' Gorilla2 was pulling a small sponge out of his shirt. "Man!" Gorilla1 was holding his nose and waving his hand to fan the air away. "What IS that? It was all I could do to keep a straight face when you sat down!" Gorilla2 dropped the sponge into a small plastic back, then dumped that into a disposal, next to us. "Like you're any better, Doctor Breath. Remember the class in thiols, from Organic Chem last month? That was a half milligram of mephitis mephitis." He flapped his shirt. "Wow. I think I'd better just chuck the shirt. No way this is coming out in the wash." Gorilla1 offered his hand. "Hi, I'm Tom Franklin. Sorry about the put up, and yes, I ate the onion sandwich on purpose. Your sister talked us into it. She said you pulled a joke on her, yesterday afternoon." Oh, yeah. I had been sort of involved in a heavy make-out session, while she'd been trapped in a public place. I remember turning off my communicator, right after she hollered at me. "Yeah." Gorilla2 shook hands, too. It was interesting watching my dainty hand vanish inside his huge paw. "Whatever you gave her, I wouldn't mind seeing the formula. That would go over great at parties!" Belatedly, he rubbed his forehead. "Oh, sorry. Chen Jiang." That's when a couple of guys got up from the surrounding tables. "Please," Chen begged them, "please tell me you got it all on tape!" "Oh yeah. Multiple angles, too." I put my head down on the table and wrapped my arms over the top. "Kill me now," I pleaded. Chen chuckled. "Oh, come on, you didn't really fall for that, did you? You can't really believe that 'jocks are hydrocephalic morons' bit, can you?" "Hey, what about Dow?" "Well, with notable exceptions." "Look who's talking, 'Thud.' The man can't even remember his own name!" The other guys were cozying up to Tammy, Rana, Mandi, and Kelly. Mandi, in particular, was chortling. "Now, boys, hand over the tapes. A little editing, and we'll be ready to gift-wrap this for the gymnastics team." "I am *so* dead," I mumbled, under my arms. ***** I caught up with Crystal and Doug exiting the cafeteria. I gave Crystal my most irritated glare. "Okay," I told her, "maybe I went a little too far yesterday afternoon. But we're EVEN now, got it?" She just smirked. "I'll have to see the tape." I wanted to rant against her, but since no one was in the hallway at the moment, I answered a higher need and grabbed Doug. I spared another glare for Crystal. "Anyone asks, tell 'em you're waiting for Doug to get out of the bathroom." She nodded blandly. The important thing to know was that the janitorial 'bot had a closet right around the corner from the bathroom. Most people never realized what the blank panel in the wall was for, since the bots never come out when there are people around. In my previous life, I had worked up a schedule and tracking algorithm for an industrial complex. I hadn't expected the knowledge to pay off like this. Giving the quick high-low- high taps on the access plate, the panel slid open. I shoved Doug into the dark space. He had just a moment to stare at the offline autonomous janitorial unit before the panel slid shut again and we were pressed together in the cramped darkness. I was stretching up on tiptoes, my mouth crushed against his before he could react, and my tongue was probing the inside of his mouth in desperation. Maybe it's instinct with boys, but his hands were almost immediately on my breasts -- cupping, gently squeezing, stroking my painful nipples through the fabric of my shirt. "No," I gasped, "not the tips. They hurt too much. I've been rubbing against this damn shirt all morning, and each time it just makes me hornier for YOU." He gave a start at that. He couldn't resist passing his hands over my rock-hard nubs one last time. I stepped up on top of the short bot, so that I wouldn't get a crick in my neck as I kissed him. Then I took his hand and guided it down toward my skirt. "Touch me here." God he was good. Both hands went enthusiastically to work, stroking my sides, following the contours of my hips, tracing over the swell of my butt. By now I was trembling. Then he slipped below the miniskirt and stroked his hands up and down my fabric-clad legs. A couple of times he bent down to stroke my calves, and our mouths came momentarily apart. "Is this okay?" "OKAY?" I forced myself not to go too high in pitch. "Lord, Doug, I am so desperate with my need for you that I don't think I'll be able to last to the end of the day! I NEED YOU inside of me! You don't know what it's like!" "Wow," he breathed, brushing his lips into my cleavage. "I never knew girls got it as bad as guys." "You better believe it -- AH!" His hands had traveled up my thigh and finally found that three-centimeter band of bare flesh between my hose and my panties. His fingert