Cavendish Enlightened
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An End To Bullying free porn video
Mark and Shayna watched the popular girls glide down the hall, chatting
and giggling. One girl in particular stood out even among that flock,
perfect and completely aware of it. Cecelia wore her pale blonde hair in
a long ponytail that gently slapped against her bare upper back, not a
single hair amiss. Her tight top plunged to show off deep cleavage that
bounced steadily despite a partially exposed bra's best efforts. The
torso beneath gently curved inwards before flaring out to support a pair
of low-rise jeans, with the hem of a black thong and a smidgen of midriff
visible above just shy of too much hips and butt. A skirt barely adhered
to the school's dress code for length, showing off long legs that topped
slim feet in short-heeled sandals, the exposed toenails painted pastel.
Her breathtaking face, only slightly marred by overused makeup,
acknowledged the pair of losers barely long enough to dismiss them, big
blue eyes just visibly darting to the side and pouty lips turning up at
the corners. If she registered Mark's wide-eyed stare or Shayna's
humorless smile, she didn't show it. Such lesser beings were beneath her,
whether they offered worship and contempt.
Mark watched the school's queen and her entourage disappear behind a
corner. No matter how many times he saw her, he couldn't believe she was
real.
"Impressed?" Shayna asked, startling Mark. Her expression had turned to
satisfaction. "I can't take all the credit. To be honest, I can hardly
believe he had her in him."
Mark tried to steady himself. Short and weedy, he'd been afraid of Shayna
even before Cecelia came to be. He'd thought of her as an ally on
principle, a fellow outcast, but not someone he'd ever befriend. Gaunt
and pale with long black hair and a permanent scowl, Shayna was rumored
to be a witch, a once beautiful girl who lost her mind, a murderer, or
all three. She'd transferred to his high school at the start of year, but
hadn't become any less mysterious as the quarters passed.
Mark heard somewhere that she sometimes helped her fellow outsiders. No
one could ever recall her doing anything notable, but the idea seemed
universally accepted. Off to college and still bullied like a child, Mark
had worked up his nerve on the grounds that it couldn't hurt to ask. He'd
told Shayna how Steve Martens, a tubby classmate with greasy blonde hair
and a singularly cruel mind, made his life miserable, and how he just
wanted some peace during his last month here. She cheerfully offered her
assistance, saying she'd make sure Steve would never so much as
acknowledge him again. That had been Friday.
Mark didn't see Steve before school started the following Monday, nor was
he at lunch, the usual preferred time for intimidation and humiliation.
He wasn't there when Mark took his seat during the next period, math, the
one actual class the pair shared. In fact, the whole classroom looked
wrong; Nate Johnson was in Steve's usual seat, and the rest of the
students were shuffled around until the only open desk was in the back,
where the popular girls sat. As the bell rang a stunning blonde he'd
never seen sauntered in through the door, absentmindedly wiping her lips.
She took the empty desk, and Mark stared until she gave him a look to
wither a tree. He saw other guys risking subdued glances the new girl's
chest, but none dwelled or gave any impression of surprise. When roll was
called she responded to the name Cecilia Martens.
The name burrowed in Mark's mind. After class he asked Nate if that was
Steve's cousin, and received only a confused look in response. He
repeated the name, Steve Martens, and Nate asked that was Cecelia's
brother or something. Mark told him to forget about it, and spent the
rest of the day looking for any signs of his former nemesis, finding
none. The next day he noticed Cecelia on the lawn before school, then in
his lunch period, and again in math, but at no point did she so much as
look at him. By now the rumors of witchcraft had started running wild
through his head. Steve - and now he was certain that girl was Steve,
whatever he looked or acted like, no matter how impossible that was - had
walked by just as Mark was finally about to confront Shayna. He wasn't
sure what to say in the wake of the witch's open acceptance of her work.
He'd expected a fight, or at least denial.
"Mark, you there? I asked if you were impressed," Shayna said. She looked
unnervingly relaxed, as though making a guy into a girl was just a bit of
everyday work. "C'mon man. Give me some feedback."
"I just wanted him to leave me alone," Mark said. His cowardice told him
to leave now, thank her and move on, but he couldn't budge. Fear and
shame had coagulated into something resembling courage, sturdy enough
that it wouldn't dissolve no matter how much he wished it would. This was
fucked up, bad enough that his conscience wouldn't let him abandon even
his worst enemy.
Shayna gave a small, mean-spirited laugh. "Oh, she'll leave you alone,
just like I promised. She's too busy fucking the football team to care
about some pointless nerd. I doubt she even knows your name anymore."
How could she be so casual? Mark could still barely believe what was
happening, and Shayna was acting like she'd helped him with some
homework. "I didn't ask you to make him a girl. If you could do that, you
could probably have done lots of other stuff. Less drastic stuff."
"You don't think it's an improvement? True, she's not any more pleasant
as a person, but at least you have something to look at now." A tinge of
annoyance slipped through Shayna's mask of calm, and she gestured for
Mark to leave. "Anyway, what's done is done. If you're not gonna thank
me, you don't have anything worth saying."
Her stare seemed to burn, and Mark averted his eyes, willing himself to
leave. He couldn't. Steve wasn't worth it, in any sense, but no one
deserved... whatever this was. "I thought you were helping me. I just
wanted him to go away." He spoke without conviction or looking back up,
and didn't see Shayna's expression curdling into exasperation.
"Look. I have plans for this place, and a solution for your problem fit
them." Her voice was too soft, and carried an edge that promised murder
on the horizon. "You don't like my help, fine, but it's not like it cost
you anything. You don't get to complain. Just walk away."
Properly terrified, Mark began babbling, unable to lift his eyes for fear
of what he might see. "This, this isn't a solution. It's like something
from a nightmare. You stole his life. Just change him back, okay? I won't
bother you again."
"You won't bother me now, if you're smart. Enjoy your bully-free
semester, don't ever talk to me again, and everything will be great. You
don't want to piss me off."
Mark, stuck in a loop of fear and regret, continued without thinking. "I
don't, but what about Steve?" His pants felt tight and his boxers fit
oddly, hanging at the waist but bunching up noticeably around his hips.
His stance felt uncomfortable, too. He nervously readjusted to steady
himself, finally looking up as he did so, forcing himself to meet the
witch's eyes.
"What about Steve? He doesn't exist anymore. Cecelia is who that is now,
who she's always been. Walk away now. I shouldn't even be giving you this
chance." Shayna's voice was almost as sharp as her stare.
Mark's internal organs were performing acrobatics, and his flesh was
crawling, bad enough to make him stutter. Then a sudden surge of self-
righteous anger blossomed, breaking the paralysis, filling him with rage.
"I don't care. Change him back," Mark said, stepping forward and pushing
Shayna against a locker. Taken by surprise, she stumbled back and hit the
cheap metal with a strangely satisfying thud, but the movement behind the
action felt wrong, like his center of gravity was off. Mark, equally
confused but strangely satisfied, pushed back loose strands of hair and
took a confident step forward. Fear was being replaced by growing fury,
which stemmed from disbelief that anyone would dare talk to him like
this.
The witch took several long moments to regain her poise, and when she did
her look was one of pure teenage spite. "You know what? I really, really
don't like you. Never have. Most people I help are put upon,
misunderstood, troubled. You? You're just a whiny brat. You and the
Martens bitch deserve each other."
Mark snorted. "Oh, go fuck yourself. Why should I care what some crazy
bitch thinks?" It felt good to speak his mind. Why had he always been so
cautious? Why had he wanted to be invisible? Mark felt angry and
justified, which made it easy to ignore the cramps and pressure he felt
all over his body. "Cecelia's a dick, yeah, but this is fucking busted."
The hate on Shayna's face became an unpleasant grin, and she reached for
Mark's chest. "Couldn't have put it better myself," she said as she
grabbed his left nipple and tweaked it hard, pulling it away, easily
stretching the sensitive skin far beyond what should have been its
limits.
Mark gritted his teeth and hissed as pain shot through him, almost as bad
as if he'd been kicked in the balls. He slapped away Shayna's hand, and
his breast bounced slightly it drooped back into a cone-like teardrop
under his shirt. Mark was now acutely aware of a slight but rapidly
expanding weight behind the sore nipple as he tried to soothe it, how the
nipple itself grew noticeably larger and harder under his thumb and
forefinger, and how rubbing it felt good beneath the pain. He
instinctively reached in his low neckline to stuffed his tit back in his
bra, and fear returned, slicing through newfound confidence.
"What are you doing to me?" Mark knew the answer. He could hear it in his
voice, higher and more pleasant than his old whine. He could taste it on
his pouty lips, the slight sweetness of the flavored gloss they now wore.
He could smell it on his hair, the scent of the shampoo and conditioner
on long brown locks. He could feel it in his pants, his legs and hips and
ass encased in form-fitting denim, but no discomfort up front. He'd seen
it a minute earlier, when Cecilia had walked past. Karen knew the answer,
but he wanted to hear it from Shayna. No one treated him like this.
"You shouldn't have bothered me. I was going to leave you alone."
Shayna's cool mask hadn't quite returned, but seeing Karen upset seemed
to ease to disguise her agitation. "All I did was decide I'm not leaving
annoying bitches on both ends of the social ladder."
Yes, he was at the top now, wasn't he? Deserved it, too. Karen was no
longer surprised by the two soft yet stiff cups holding up his sizable
breasts, helping them peer out of his shirt. He was angry, but he wanted
to look like this, to be absolutely beautiful, and for everyone to know
it. If he was still just a little scared, it was only because it had been
done without his permission. Mark realized he'd been thinking of himself
as Karen, and his acceptance was cut short just as he felt his crotch
split apart between the legs. With a soft mewl he reached both hands down
at his tight jeans, grasping at nothing, feeling his arms push his
breasts together and his fingers brush against the mound where his
masculinity had been.
"You always wanted to touch one of those, didn't you? Well now you can as
often as you like." Fear and anger and arrogance mixed as Mark shot a
narrowed gaze at Shayna, slowly removing his hands. "Don't worry, guys
are gonna be lining up to give you a hand now. Or, more accurately, for
you to give them one."
Mark sniffed through his upturned nose. He was known for his blowjobs,
not his hand jobs, thank you much. Not that a weirdo like Shayna had ever
so much as touched a guy's dick. Mark didn't catch himself again until he
was already remembering the taste of semen, salty and strangely
appealing. Even afterward she knew it was silly that her friends all
thought swallowing was gross. Protein was protein.
Karen felt sick. The idea of sex with guys shouldn't sound so appealing,
not matter how good they felt when they licked her tits or pussy, or how
much she loved returning the favor. As great as this was, she deserved
what she wanted, even if what she wanted was being... whoever she'd been
before.
"Change me back to, to who I was," Karen said. She wanted to invoke her
old name, but couldn't remember it. No matter. Someone as great as her
had no doubt been just as awesome as a guy.
"Sorry, babe. I overstuffed the football team a bit, so you need to give
Cecilia some assistance on that front. I'd hate to make our state
champions settle for second-rate pussy." Karen was torn. She knew she was
being insulted, but she liked being recognized for her talents. She
couldn't remember why having her hot, tight pussy mentioned was an
insult, but knew it was. "By the way, say hello to Brian Post for me. She
asked me to make her popular back when she was head of chess club, and
he's really been knocking it out of the park as captain."
Brian? Had that fucking stud really been a girl? There was nothing
feminine about those cliff-like abs, let alone that monster of a cock.
Karen felt a bit gooey as she remembered sliding up and down that pole,
gently at first, then ramming down into it, stretching herself out beyond
belief. Forget fellatio or cunnilingus, that was the real deal. God, what
she'd give for Brian to dump Becky. She'd swear off all the other boys
forever for just one more ride.
Mark caught herself, her name shocked back into memory. Not who she'd
been, no, but it was something. She knew she'd been someone else, even if
she couldn't remember just how or why she'd want to go back to being
them. Well, she could think of one reason: no one forced Karen Bennett to
do anything, not even a witch.
"You made me a slut," she said, thinking of all the guys she'd known in
various levels of intimacy. Great memories and no regrets, but that was
beside the point. Sounding angry helped get her way. "I don't care who I
was, change me back."
Shayna's face was unbearable smug. "Oh, stop being so dramatic. Unlike
Cecilia, you're manipulative enough to hide your libido. She resents that
of course, but that's the pretty ones for you. Always jockeying to be
queen bee."
The bitch had a point. She had all the pleasures of sleeping around
without any of the problems. Pity Cecelia wasn't quick-witted enough to
keep up, but her taking heat helped keep Karen's reputation sterling.
Still, she was compelled to speak. "I don't want to be a queen bee. I
want to be me," she said. She struggled to remember what "me" meant,
exactly, but the reason lie beyond her grasp.
"Don't sweat it, you're just a moment away from not caring ever again,"
Shayna said, looking around the corner. She leaned back and waved curtly.
"Unpleasant knowing you, Mark."
Karen was about to demand to know who Mark was when a familiar voice
asked, "What are you doing with this freak?"
Karen looked over at Cecelia, who had just rounded the corner. The rest
of their entourage stood a good distance away, whispering and looking
over. Karen frowned and shifted back to Shayna, hoping the weirdo would
have a good answer. "I, uh, don't really remember. Why was I talking to
you, anyway?"
Shayna shrugged, making no effort to explain. Bitch, Karen thought.
Cecelia sighed impatiently. "Fuck it, Kar, let's just go. The guys are
waiting outside. We'll sort out your brain problems later."
Karen nodded, still unsure of what she was doing there. Her left nipple
throbbed slightly, but she couldn't remember why. "Yeah, sure," she said,
before putting on a smile for Shayna she hoped looked real. A little
politeness went a long way, especially among the geeks, even when they
were being their usual bizarre selves. Unlike Cecelia, she strived to be
universally loved. "Later, Shayna."
Shayna waved disingenuously. "Mmhm. Try not to choke on any cocks."
Karen choked as her fake smile turned to honest rage. "Oh, fuck you.
C'mon Cece, let the ugly cunt talk to herself," she said through clenched
teeth. It was a good reminder that politeness only went so far.
The pair left left quickly, giving them a few seconds to speak before the
rest of the girls caught up. "Seriously, Kar, why were you talking with
that weirdo?" Cecelia asked. "Stuck up dirty bitch."
Karen shrugged. "I really don't know. Probably called me over for some
reason and I zoned out when she started talking crazy on me. You know
what Moon Goddess is like."
Cecelia sighed. "You're too nice, Kar. You gotta learn to leave the
losers alone. Especially don't let that freak push you around, she might
cast a spell or something."
"Seriously? You believe in that witch shit?" Karen stopped and stared at
her friend incredulously.
"If anyone knows magic it'd be that creep," Cecelia said as the rest of
their friends caught up. "Bet she ate Satan's asshole to learn it." She
laughed, and the others joined her, but Karen just felt a bit cold.
The odd mood didn't last long. Brian practically threw himself at Becky
as the group stepped outside, which made Karen jealous, but then Luke and
Christian pulled her aside. They wanted to step up their game before
college, and hoped she'd be interested in a threesome Friday night. Karen
laughed, and told those silly, inexperienced boys she'd be happy to help,
provided they treated her right. The only question was who would go
between her lips and who would go between her thighs...
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