The Walking Dead Clementine
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FOREWORD
This story is copyrighted. Please do not repost this without my express consent, or use it for your profit. The characters portrayed herein are not based on any real people - any likeness to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.
While this story is not intended to offend, it does contain material that you may consider offensive. If you find non-consensual sex, humiliation and blackmail (just a few of the themes in this story) unpalatable, then please, for your sake, do not read any further. For the rest of you fellow deviants, hi! I hope you enjoy it.
One last thing: further installments to this story will depend on feedback - and if it's rubbish, let me know! Also, your suggestions are more than appreciated, so if you have any ideas that you feel might enhance the story, feel free to email me: [email protected].
Now, without further ado!
Welcome to Clementine Academy.
========================================== Chapter One, Part One
In which Chloe Anne Valentine sets herself up for an unhappy future.
(Section codes: slow)
Chloe Valentine sat cross legged on an unusually plush leather couch outside the headmaster's office of Clementine Academy, playing Snake on her mobile. She'd given up trying to make sense of the muffled voices of her mother and the head teacher, who were no doubt negotiating terms for her enrolment. Chloe was a bad girl, or so the education board had decided. She was a rebel. Some said was a disposition born from her unfortunate tendency to fall into the wrong crowds, others believed that it was the direct cause of an unhappy home. Whenever Chloe's will had been contested by a so-called authority figure, she'd had "violent episodes", according to the complaints on her permanent record. This was, in fact, the cause of her first expulsion, after she'd had an argument with her physical education teacher and attacked him with a badminton racket.
Her real problem was that she considered school to be a waste of her time. "Well, if that's how you feel," the guidance teacher of her last school had asked. "Why don't you just leave?"
Chloe supposed she just hadn't decided what to do with her life yet. School, to her, was youth limbo. 'Time to plan ahead' was what her guidance counsellor suggested she make of it, although this invariably translated into endless procrastination:
'I wanna be an artist'. She could; her doodles were excellent, but "artist" was rather a grandiloquent term for her talent. "Tattoo artist", perhaps.?
'I wanna be an actress'. She could probably do that too; she was clever, and could convince people of nonsense with quite the serious (or otherwise appropriate) face - but didn't that just make her a good liar??
'Or maybe I'll be a model', she'd tell herself, striking poses in the mirror. It was another potential future for Chloe; she was a bit short of gorgeous, but that didn't mean she still couldn't turn heads with a little effort. Effort she rarely, if ever, made. She had beautiful, long, thick dark-brown hair and chestnut eyes, pale skin and a slender, lithe body; assets she undervalued. For whenever Chloe talked about a future in modelling, she was joking. When she struck a pose, she aimed for a caricature of herself. She had low self-esteem, but that was all terribly well hidden by a bad attitude.
Her snake took a wrong turn, missed the apple and went crashing into itself. It was Game Over. Chloe sighed and chucked her mobile onto the sofa beside her. It was a stupid game anyway, she thought. What use has a snake for apples? And why should coiling in on itself have such disastrous consequences??
Chloe was bored. They'd been in there for almost forty minutes now. What on earth could they be talking about that should take so long? Chloe stuck the tip of her thumb in her mouth and chewed the nail absently, looking around the empty waiting room. The walls were dotted with weird pictures, what Chloe could only imagine were weak attempts at modern (and therefore abstract) art, but they had a distracting effect. Her eyes were inexplicably drawn to the mundane drawings; pictures of plants with legs and painted toenails, animals with sultry, pouting lips, a motorbike standing at a podium, giving a speech to hundreds of other vehicles. Chloe thought they were all pretty stupid. Probably quite expensive, though. Well, if she decided she wanted to be expelled from this school, stealing them might be a good way to go about it.?
The door to the office opened and the headmaster poked his head around the doorframe. He was a short, podgy man with a bald patch and kind blue eyes. He smiled politely at Chloe.
"Would you like to come in and take a seat, Miss Valentine?" he asked. Chloe grunted, snatched up her phone and slid off the sofa. She stepped into the office and took a seat next to her mother, in front of the headmaster's mahogany desk. "Dr Hodges," read the name-plate facing their direction. 'A doctor of what?' Chloe wondered, but the good doctor explained it for her.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Chloe," he said, smiling again. "My name is Dr Hodges, but I am the headmaster for this school, I assure you. The degree is in psychology."
'Great,' Chloe thought. 'Psycho-analysis time. More fucking inkblots that look like badminton rackets'.
"Don't worry though," said Dr Hodges, as if reading her mind. "I won't be analysing your every move and mood: we have staff here that are paid to do that instead." He laughed, and Chloe's mother chuckled. Chloe cast her a sidelong glance, irritated.
"Now," said Dr Hodges. "Shall we get down to business? I have a few things for you to sign, Miss Valentine. For official purposes..."
Chloe hadn't anticipated that she could possibly pushed to further depths of boredom, but Dr Hodges exceeded himself in that capacity. Not only did he lavish her with careful praise - a naked tactic to try and warm her to the forthcoming lecture on school policy - by pinpointing the few, isolated lines in her permanent record that actually spoke well of her; mostly her achievements in art. Of course, the compliments didn't keep coming for long. There was only so much you could say about a girl like Chloe to make it sound as though she might have a promising future. At one point, the headmaster had even requested that he take Chloe's photograph. "For official purposes", of course. Chloe didn't smile.
"You understand, Chloe, that due to your prior... misadventures, this school will not tolerate any bad behaviour on your part?" Dr Hodges asked.
Chloe dug a finger into the pocket of her jeans and fished out a packet of Juicy Fruit chewing gum, unwrapped it with one hand and popped it in her mouth. She started chewing, and nodded.
?
"Good. I'm glad. Also, seeing that you're both here together," Dr Hodges glanced at Mrs Valentine, and then back at her daughter. "It might be an idea to discuss our "buddy system" policy for children with behavioural issues..."
And he did. What Hodges went onto outline in the next fifteen minutes left Chloe aghast, and on the ride home, she expressed her feelings calmly and succinctly to her Mother:
"This is fucking stupid, Mom!" she'd said, and her Mother had shrugged. Secretly, she was actually quite pleased by Dr Hodge's system; it would mean Chloe wouldn't have the chance to associate with whatever "bad elements" Clementine might have, at least to begin with. The buddy system, as far as Mrs Valentine was concerned, was ingenious. For the first three months of any pupil's enrolment to the school, they are assigned a voluntary "buddy": a capable, exemplary pupil of both academic and social proportions. This buddy is allocated a seat next to, or near the pupil in every available class and encouraged to associate with the pupil during lunch and break times. In exchange, the "mentor" is compensated with extra credit, which allowed them to drop a class or two in some cases. ?The idea of the system is that the positive qualities of the accomplished buddy rub off on the bad-apple pupil.?
Chloe was in a strop for the rest of the ride home. She glared out of the passenger window, her delicate features scrunched into a brattish frown. She spoke only once, and that was to snap at her Mother for turning the radio station to a "the golden oldies" channel.
Chloe's mood lessened in intensity as the evening progressed. The Valentines had just recently moved house; a necessity after Chloe's banishment from her previous school. As such, the house was full of boxes that dotted the hallway and swarmed what her Chloe's Mother had decreed would eventually be the guest room. Chloe's room was in particular disarray. Mrs Valentine had left her to deal with unpacking her own gear, and it was a decision she was sorely regretting. Two weeks and all Chloe had managed to do was turn each box on its head and empty her belongings out onto the floor. Clothes and CDs made up her carpet, along with the occasional bundle of notes from her last school. Chloe didn't really seem to own anything else.
However, the strain and stress of moving and unpacking meant that, for the last few weeks, Mrs Valentine had been too exhausted to cook, which meant Chloe got to feast on a variety of free take-aways and this always seemed to lighten her mood. By the time she'd consumed her body weight in sweet and sour chicken and noodles, she was her lightened self again.
About an hour after their meal, Chloe lay stretched out on the sofa, while her Mother sat contentedly in a dowdy armchair that she'd bought from a charity shop two days ago; a furnishing Chloe had refused to touch due to the fact that it, quote, "looked like a skin disease". They were both watching television, but there wasn't really anything on. The telephone rang.
"Phone," Chloe announced, without taking her eyes from the screen.
"You're closest," her Mother protested.
"It's never for me," Chloe replied.
"You never know. It might be Grant," her Mother teased, not yet aware that Chloe had finished with him shortly before the move. He was a good-looking guy, but he hadn't really interested Chloe for long. He was a bit wet, she thought, for a guy. She hadn't given him much thought since she'd left. And she certainly hadn't given him a forwarding telephone number.
When Chloe didn't move, her Mother sighed and dragged herself out of the skin disease. There was a short exchange, which Chloe didn't listen to, until her Mother announced:
"It's for you, love."
"Who is it?"
"Here," her Mother dodged the question. Chloe scowled, and hopped off the sofa, taking the telephone from her Mother.?
"Hallo?" she spoke into the receiver.
"Hi, Chloe?" asked the voice on the other end. It was male, but she didn't recognise it.
"Maybe. Who's this?"
"My name's Chris. I'm sorry to call you so late. You aren't busy, are you?"
"No," Chloe replied. "But I don't know anybody called Chris."
"No, not yet you don't," the voice smiled, charismatic. "I'm at Clementine's, too. Dr Hodges asked me to give you a call this evening. I've been assigned to you as your buddy."
Chloe hung up.
?
========================================== Chapter One, Part Two
In which Christopher Allan Walker expresses his disappointment.
(Section codes: slow)
Willing to give Chloe the benefit of the doubt, Chris first checked his mobile, making sure that the battery hadn't died or he hadn't run out of credit. Then he redialled her number, but the telephone had apparently been left off the hook. Chris tossed his mobile onto the bed and walked over to the mirror, scrutinising his own reflection. Pinching two fingers together, carefully, he plucked at a few strands of hair until the gel held it spiked in a more pleasing manner.?
Chris was a lot of things, but his vanity was what he considered to be his worst quality. Not because he believed self-obsession was something to be ashamed of, but because taking care of his looks ate into so much of his free time. And style wasn't exactly inexpensive, either. Chris had once taken the time to work out that in some weeks, he actually spent more money on hair gel, hair wax, hair putty, hair spray, shampoo, conditioner, moisturising cream, exfoliating gels, scented scrubs, pore-cleansing wipes and various other hygiene-enhancing products than he did on food. Which was, he fully realised, insane. But if that was the price of looking so good, he thought, then he was getting off light.
After a few long, careful moments of preening and self-maintenance, Chris tore himself away from the mirror and returned to his biology revision. Chris was Clementine's star pupil, its pride and joy: a student that excelled in almost every subject, with an aptitude for anything he seemed to put his mind to. He was validation for the school's grandiose claims that it educated and bred "some of the finest students the country has to offer".?
But Chris Walker wasn't exactly a boy to follow by example, for the large majority of his successes and achievements were wrought through crooked activity. Chris was an extremely bright, clever young man, but he was lazy, too. And from this blend of intelligence and sloth, his conniving, deceitful ways had been born. Chris was a liar, a thief and a man as manipulative as they came. He attained test scores through prior insight to the test's content, and his expansive list of achievements could invariably be credited to someone else's effort. Through bribery, blackmail or other intimidating method, Chris usually got what he wanted. If he didn't, someone else wound up in a bad way.
Chris flicked open his biology textbook to reveal a sheaf of paper tucked between its pages, the answers for his upcoming exam scrawled there by one of his many informants. As he suspected, he'd be committing to memory various obvious definitions as well as a few specific nuggets of information. Osmosis, diffusion, species indicators - bitch - genetic formulae, cell structures, Darwinian theory - fucking hang up on me - and its contestors, various differences between animal and plant base cells - nobody fucking hangs up on me - and so on and so forth.
Eventually, Chris got bored. He slapped the book shut and loaded up his pc, selecting a few tracks for easy listening to help him relax. He picked up Dr Hodge's letter, which had been delivered to him during English class earlier on in the day, and stared at the request with disgust. The buddy program. It was a ridiculous concept. Reform the convicts! Chris snorted, and read over the juicier lines of the headmaster's request. One such gem read:
"... in assisting Clementine Academy in making the new girl, Chloe Valentine, feel welcome. As you may have heard, Chloe was ejected from full-time education in her last school under extreme circumstances which, in the interests of confidentiality ..."
Chris wondered what exactly "extreme circumstances" amounted to, but didn't give it too much thought. Such official terminology was too vague to assess. Extreme circumstances could mean anything from threatening a teacher to burning the school down. Heck, he'd seen some student profiles that had seen them seriously reprimanded for refusing to conform to Clementine's strict religious attitude and attend church every Sunday morning. Expulsion usually meant extreme over-reaction, as far as Chris was concerned.
Besides, he thought, unclipping a photocopy of Chloe's polaroid from the letter and stroking her face with his thumb, this girl was too cute to be mean. Why, if you squinted, she almost looked like that chick off Neighbours. And that was no bad thing.?
Rubbing his crotch absently, Chris resolved to add Chloe to the list of achievements. Sure, she was being uncooperative at the moment, but she hadn't met him yet. Let her resolve weaken a little, have her conform to this stupid buddy program so Chris could have his extra credit and drop a class. This little project was easy points for the lucky Clementine student appointed to handle it. The only downsides, as far as Chris could foresee was that, one, he'd actually have to work on this one himself and two, he'd have to spend time with a potential social reject.
But hey, he reminded himself. She's cute. And if she did prove to be a stubborn little fox, well, Chris had ways of dealing with that, too.
Sighing, aroused now, Chris sunk down in his chair and fired up his internet browser. Destination, porn.
?
========================================== Chapter One, Part Three
In which a very naughty girl meets a very nasty boy.
(Story codes: slow)
Mrs Valentine had offered to give her daughter a lift to school, but Chloe had opted to take the school bus instead. It wasn't that she particularly wanted to associate with her future classmates as soon as possible, it was merely that she didn't want to be seen being dropped off by her Mother. She could be... unpredictable, sometimes. So, slumped over two seats and her legs kicked up over an arm rest, Chloe rode the bus.
Clementine had prescribed a school uniform to Chloe's Mother, which Chloe had opted not to wear despite such action contradicting the agreement Dr Hodges had had her sign in his office two days previously. Chloe had taken one look at the stuffy, maroon abomination and had turned her nose up to it. Defying every point of the school dress code, Chloe was wearing pumps instead of shoes, trousers under her pleated, grey school skirt and a comfortable black shirt that used to belong to her father, who had been a small man. The maroon overcoat bearing the Clementine insignia, shirt and tie that had been donated to her during administration had been deliberately left neatly folded at her bedside back home.
Chris was four seats behind Chloe and very curious indeed. He sat, ignoring his friends, staring at her dangling legs and thinking his perverted thoughts. Unlike the adorable little rebel a few seats ahead, Chris adhered strictly to Clementine's school policy, claustrophobic and abhorrent though it was. It was a means to serve an end, after all.?
The fact that Chloe shared the same bus as Chris was good news. It meant she lived nearby, which meant if she became a problem for him in school over the buddy program, he could become a problem for her outside school hours without having to walk too far.
The bus crawled to a halt outside Clementine's gates and discharged its student cargo, before trundling off again. Chris caught up with Chloe on her way to the school entrance. She was heading to the office to collect her timetable for the school year.
"Hi there," Chris said, appearing by her side and matching her pace. It was a little slower than he liked to walk; it felt like a stroll without purpose.
Chloe glanced at him. "Hallo," she replied.
"We've been introduced already," Chris said, flashing his best smile. He'd spent seven minutes brushing and four minutes flossing this morning.
Chloe stopped walking, and Chris turned to face her. He was pretty sure she thought he was cute. He registered a slight blush and inconsistent eye contact.?
"The stupid buddy system?" Chloe asked. "Hey, Craig, no offence-"
"Chris," Clementine's pride and joy interjected casually.
"Chris, then. I don't mean to offend you or anything, but you can hang out with me all you like. It's not going to inspire me to think happy thoughts and be a good girl for Hodges. So, if you don't mind-"
"Actually, I do mind," Chris said. His mobile phone started ringing in his pocket. Irritated, he clamped one hand over his leg, muffling it.
"That's a pity. It would've been easier if you didn't," Chloe said. "Your phone's ringing."
And with that, she turned on her heel and marched indoors.?
"Fuck," Chris said, pulling out his phone. "What?" he demanded.
"Hey, Walker. News from the hub, buddy."
It was Mitchell. Mitchell was the closest thing Chris had to a friend, but was still not an individual he was beyond manipulating, especially given his exceptional computer skills. Hacking was his middle name. Well, it was if you pronounced "George" really badly. The "hub" was what Mitchell referred to as Clementine's head office which, in this instance, meant he'd done Chris' homework on the new girl for him already.
"What've you got, amigo?"
"Valentine, Chloe. Seventeen years of age. Fuckable. There's a photo of her here," Mitchell said.
"I've got her mug shot. Hodges sent me a copy from his private collection when he drafted me in on this stupid program," Chris replied.
"Got her ear-marked yet?"
"I'll be making her scream my name before the week's out, dude."
The bell rang, indicating the beginning of the school day.
"Hah, 'course you will. Let's just hope this little rabbit's of the willing variety this time."
"Doesn't matter if she's not, really. I'm too clean-cut for a delinquent like her to damage my name, if there's cause for drastic measures. But yeah, I'm trying for consensual, but she's just so fucking... ah, never mind. Look, I gotta get to class. What's the news?"
"Oh, right. Well, seems like she's a real firecracker, that one. Her last head teacher practically wrote a thesis on her anti-social behaviour. Comes from a wrecked home, lonely background, typical tear-jerker stuff. Daddy's dead. Something to do with narcotics and hookers, but no juicy details. Mom's got herself a mental disorder. "Simple" schizophrenia, whatever that is. Chloe... well, she's a wannabe drug dealer, man. Got caught peddling her Mom's brain medicine to a bunch of fourteen year-olds on school premises."
Chris laughed. "Thanks, buddy. Hey, fill me in on the rest at lunch. Gotta go or I'll be late."
"See ya," Mitchell said, and Chris hung up and went to class.
?
========================================== Chapter One, Part Four
In which the rebellious Miss Valentine is reprimanded for her dreadful attire.
(Section codes: slow)
"This is a most displeasing attitude you're displaying, Chloe," said Hodges. "I had hoped you might show some interest in fitting in here."
Chloe had made it to fourth period before a teacher, well-known amongst the student population for being anal, had sent her to the headmaster as a result of her dress.
"Sorry," Chloe wasn't. She'd spent fifteen minutes staring at Dr Hodges' mind-boggling art investment outside his office, trying to comprehend what level of stupidity or madness would compel a man to buy such a selection of monstrosities. Sitting in his office now, Chloe wasn't feeling inspired to behave all dilligent and respectful in lieu of such poor taste. Even the decor of Hodges' office was rife with ill taste, from the gold-plated name plate on his mahogany desk to the psychiatrist-plush leather chairs and mauve wallpaper. Who did this guy think he was? The head teacher of a sub-standard school, or a rich and successful psychiatrist? Or, perhaps the more apt question was: what did this guy wish he was? Chloe couldn't respect a guy that refused to come to terms with his own reality.
Hodges tried another approach. "How's the buddy program going? You've been in... two classes with Chris, now? How are you two getting along?"
"Oh, famously. He's like my best friend already," Chloe said, twirling a lock of hair around one finger.
Dr Hodges wasn't stupid. He picked up the sarcastic undertones immediately, somewhat proud at his speed of detection and, indeed, his expectation of Chloe's tone. He clasped his chubby fingers together on his desk and leant forwards.
"Miss Valentine, the buddy system is there for your benefit. If you aren't going to take it seriously, then-"
"I'm not going to take it seriously," Chloe said, flatly.
"-THEN I will take steps to ensure that this school has at least done its best to involve you. This Sunday, instead of attending church, I'd like you to meet up with Christopher to study for your English aptitude test on Monday. He's an excellent tutor. That's the deal, Miss Valentine: I let you out of church for the day and you study. Is that fair?"
Church. Chloe had already expressed her opposition to its imposition on her life in their first meeting and Dr Hodges knew perfectly well that it was a useful bargaining tool already.
"Fine," Chloe said.
?
========================================== Chapter One, End Part
In which the two study buddies take their relationship to a new level.
(Section codes: M/f, nc, violent, humiliation, blackmail)
Checking her watch, Chloe knocked on the door at the address Chris had provided a second time and resolved to wait another minute before she gave up and left. Mentally, she started counting the seconds. Under her left arm was a wrinkled assortment of English notes from her previous school; she wasn't sure if she'd need them, but she'd brought them along just in case.?
Chloe glanced at her watch again, sighed, and smoothed a crease out of her top. She hadn't planned on doing anything today in spite of Dr Hodges' demands, except maybe laying about in bed in her pyjamas eating cereal and watching cartoons, and yet here she was, standing on what she presumed was Chris Walker's doorstep and obnoxiously ringing the doorbell. It was her Mother's influence - that bastard Hodges had phoned her at home and explained the deal he'd struck with her daughter and, while Mrs Valentine hadn't exactly pressured Chloe to comply, she'd emphasised her disappointment in all the subtle ways a parent can. Chloe had eventually consented to Chris' Sunday morning tutorial, and here she was.
Chris was inside making the last few adjustments to the stage when the doorbell rang. It had been awkward to arrange, and he'd had to pull in a lot of resources in order to occupy someone else's house for the day, but here he was. He even owed people favours now, for fuck's sake. Oh, Chloe had better appreciate the effort being made for her here, Chris thought, a wry grin on his face. He strode over to the television set and picked up its remote, tucking it into his back pocket. Caught momentarily by his reflection in the dark screen of the tv on standby, he paused to fiddle with his hair and smooth an eyebrow. The doorbell went off a second time, distracting him. He tore himself away from his reflection long enough to make it to the doorway, before he turned and gave the room one last perusal. It looked like a normal teenage boy's bedroom, which was good, because that's exactly how it was supposed to look. A carefully stacked books masked the "on" light of a sneakily placed camera on the bookshelf, while another sat atop Chris' pc in plain view (if asked, "it's a webcam"). Having to make do with only two camera angles was rather limiting, but so long as Chris paid attention to his positioning on the stage, that shouldn't be too much of an issue. Of course, if Chloe just cooperated, all of this would prove to be uneccessary. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. With that thought in mind, he checked his pocket for the penknife. Still there.
By the time Chris made it to the door, Chloe was practically leaning on the buzzer.
"Chloe, hi!" he greeted her with a warm smile and gestured for her to come in, widening the door. "Come on in." She looked good; better than before. His predatory eyes trained on her body as she stepped past him, and Chris decided that Chloe was making a definite effort. Her clothes were coordinated today; a short, close-fitting aquamarine top and hip-hugging jeans made a simple yet complimentary casual outfit and, indeed, it even seemed as though Chloe had straightened her hair. It had lost its slight curl. As she passed, Chris even caught a whiff of perfume which, to him, smelled of summer gardens and swimming pools. He liked it.
He guided her through to where he remembered the kitchen to be. Chris had spent a short while making damn sure he'd memorised the layout of the house before Chloe arrived. He certainly didn't want to open a door and walk into a closet by accident; mistakes like that on an operation as delicate as this could not be risked. Chris successfully navigated her to the kitchen and the two sat at the table briefly, exchanging polite conversation and mundane pleasantries. Chloe didn't seem to be so stand-offish either, which surprised Chris. In fact, the closest thing she came to being rude was declining a glass of orange juice when offered.
In the past, this might have frustrated Chris, who had been known to use the strong taste of orange juice as an effective disguise for whatever drug he wished to administer the girl of the moment. Chris had experimented with a variety of mind-altering and mood-bending drugs, from ecstacy to rohypnol, usually in order to try and enhance a girl's sexual drive and make her appear more willing when setting situations such as these up. They had been universal failures, and Chris had determined that there just wasn't a drug that could put a bitch in heat. If there were, he imagined that the open market wouldn't have need for its absurd variety of worthless "aphrodisiacs" and herbal supplements which claimed to boost the sex drive. They'd have the definite article and the masses would be buying.
Rohypnol, while useful for fucking a girl and leaving her with no memory of the event, left her about as responsive as a fish for the act itself. Chris had thought he might as well fuck a coma victim for all the fun it was. On camera, rohypnol girls did not look like they were enjoying themselves. Indeed, it looked as though they had passed out and he was merely having his sick way with an unconscious drunk. He couldn't possibly use any of those videos for leverage.
Ecstacy had also been a disaster. Having never experimented with the drug himself, Chris was assured by various texts found on the ever-reliable internet that the stimulant enhanced a person's pleasure centres. While not strictly inaccurate, Chris had nonetheless gotten the wrong idea. Upon spiking a girl with the stuff, he'd waited and he'd waited for the girl to get so horny she just pounced on him, but it never happened. Instead, she just started talking and talking and wouldn't shut the fuck up. No, Chris had decided to lay off the drug approach and rely on good old fashioned blackmail. It was 100% effective in his experimentation, and damned if it didn't make him feel fantastic. Blackmail was a drug Chris had faith in.
"Chloe," Chris started, tentative. They'd moved the proceedings into the bedroom. Chris was a fast worker. "If you don't mind my asking, what caused you to change your mind? About the buddy system, I mean."
"I haven't," Chloe said quietly. "I still think it's a dumb idea, but... I didn't want to upset my Mother. With all the stress of moving and all," she added, quickly.
Yeah, right, Chris thought. The stress of moving, THAT'S what would make her so easily upset. Not the fact that she was a head-case, oh no. But Chris mouthed friendly understandings instead. Why, it seemed as if the two were getting along quite well, given the shaky start to their relationship. Chris went through the motions of trying to sound informed on the subject of the Canterbury Tales, having spent a painful hour the previous evening researching the material. Himself, again. But Chloe seemed to appreciate the effort he'd put in there, so it hadn't been a waste of time. They worked for an hour before Chris suggested a break, which Chloe was glad to accept.?
In the adjacent guest room, sitting at his laptop, watching the scene through the two camera angles they'd set up, Mitchell was getting bored. He sent Chris an impatient text message:
"hurry the fuck up"
Mitchell was tech support here. He'd been through this routine with Chris a few times already. Primarily, his function was to make sure nothing went wrong, to ensure that everything recorded. But he had another role, too: routing the image through the television screen in the bedroom when Chris gave the signal. Timed humiliation for the hapless victim of Chris' twisted set-ups.?
Upon receiving the text, Chris gave the "webcam" camera a sly wink. Mitchell scowled and opened a beer. What the fuck was taking him so long??
Back in the bedroom, Chris was sitting on the bed next to Chloe, fixing her with one of his smokey looks, trying to look ravishing. Chloe was sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by notes, chewing the tip of her pen. She watched Chris close in, infringing on her personal space a little more with every cute remark until he was right in front of her. Chloe didn't give him any signs that she wasn't impressed; she was too amused by his behaviour. Oh, let him make a fool of himself, she thought with a smile. Tease him a little. Couldn't hurt bringing the self-obsessed idiot down a peg or two, right?
Eventually, Chris was so close he could smell her sweet breath. Close enough to kiss her, and so kiss her he did. Chloe hadn't been expecting such a rapid advance. It took her by surprise, but that didn't stop her shoving him off him instantly.
"Hey! HEY! Keep your tongue in your mouth, big shot" she said hotly, starting to gather up her notes.
"What?" Chris was surprised, too. He was certain that she'd been flirting with him, begging for him to kiss her with those big brown eyes. Fucking tease. "Hey, c'mon, don't be like that. We're buddies."
"Not that kind of buddies. I know we're supposed to be best friends under this program, but I don't think you're supposed to get THAT close."
It was then that Chris seemed to lose it. He freaked out, pulled a knife on her, held it to her throat. He had her pinned to the bed, crushing her with his weight. It was so sudden Chloe barely even had a chance to realise the severity of the situation, but she reacted violently the instant she felt under assault, old habits dying hard. Chloe thrashed, but he held her steady. His first impulse was to punch her in the face. Bitch! How dare she be so snide! To him! But no, he couldn't mess up her pretty face for the camera. This all had to come off smoothly and her appearance was important. This was the hard part.
And Chloe wouldn't calm down. Despite Chris' threats to slice open her throat if she didn't shut up and stop struggling, she was kicking and screaming. In the next room, Mitchell was peering out of the window to make sure the whole neighbourhood wasn't coming to investigate.
Chris pressed the blade into the flesh of her throat, the point of the tip yet to draw blood, but close. It was a fine line. Chloe was in pain now, and that seemed to quieten her.
"I'm going to stick this in your fucking throat if you don't stop behaving like a little baby, you bitch,"
"You're fucking crazy!" Chloe shrilled. Chris elbow was crushing her breast, and it was hard to breathe with his weight pressing down on her tummy, pressing the air out of her. And the knife was against her throat so hard that Chloe was sure if she flinched, she'd bleed.
"Don't try me, Chloe," Chris warned. And they lay like that for a while. Chloe, too scared to move in case her psycho study buddy got slash-happy and Chris trying to catch his breath. He repositioned himself on her body and Chloe felt something hard pushing into her side. Oh, God.
"All I want is a blowjob, Chloe," Chris said softly. "I'll let you go afterwards, I promise."
"Fuck you!"
"You bitch! I'll slash your throat!"
"Get off me!" Chloe's struggling started anew. Chris took the risk. Aiming carefully, he hit her in the face. Not hard enough to mess her up, just hard enough to get her attention. Chloe was crying now. Anger, whack, fear. The change was that quick. Like flicking a switch.
"Please," her struggles were weak now, too. Being so feisty all the time was obviously draining. "Don't hurt me. Let me go, I won't tell anyone." Her hair clung to her face in bangs where her tears had made her cheeks hot and sticky. Eye make-up was running. Shit, Chris thought, and tried to clean it up with a thumb. She couldn't look too upset. Poor image quality would mask her distress so long as she didn't look too bad.
"Shh," he comforted her. "It's okay. Just a blowjob..." and, while Chloe sobbed, Chris unzipped his pants and pulled out his rigid dick. He slid off her chest and, helping her sit up, navigated her off the bed. Chloe seemed like she was in shock: confused and frightened. Her bad-girl demeanour had been shattered so easily. Chris was rather proud of his handiwork.
He guided Chloe to her knees, concealing the knife from the view of the cameras, pressing his dick to her soft lips. He reminded her of his threat to cut her if she didn't cooperate, "keep those teeth out of the way" and "be a good girl". To Chris' immense satisfaction, Chloe's lips parted, and he slid his aching dick into her mouth, sighing.
"Suck it," he commanded, and she dutifully obliged. The little trooper actually started swirling her tongue around the head of his penis, suckling at his prick wetly. He placed one hand on her head, sliding his fingers through her soft hair and began to slide the thick shaft in and out of her wet, slurping mouth. Tears were steadily trickling down her cheeks as Chris slowly, almost lovingly fucked her face with his tool. His free hand remained in his pocket, clasping the knife, ready. Just in case.
"Oooh, yeah," Chris moaned as Chloe's oral ministrations did the trick. After a few minutes of forced sucking, Chris jerked his dick free of her cock-sucking lips and squirted hot cum in her eyes. Give her something to cry about, Chris thought, leering.?
"Lick me clean and we're done," he told her, sounding so sincere. Her eyes stinging and her throat convulsing, trying so hard not to break down and cry, reapplied her lips to his dick and sucked the rest of the goo off his penis, swallowing it. Chloe felt as if her brain had locked her body out, as if it was flat-out refusing to cooperate and let her resist. She was burning with hate and evil thoughts, and yet, she was still sucking his dick right until it went soft and he stashed it back in his pants.
Laughing, Chris nodded to the camera.
"Cue the movie," he said, for Chloe's benefit, since Mitchell couldn't actually hear him. Chris whipped out the remote control from his back pocket and, winking at Chloe (who was on her knees, bewildered and smearing his cum over her face in an attempt to wipe it off), pointed it at the big Tv set that dominated the room. The image filled the screen in all its glory, and Chloe watched in horror as a girl that looked a lot like her sucked some guy's dick in a very amateurish pornographic short. As a joke, Mitchell had overlaid the images with a song he'd brought along for this specific purpose, "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper.
"The phone rings in the middle of the night,
My father yells 'what you gonna do with your life?'
Oh daddy dear you know you're still number one,
But girls they want to have fun.
Oh girls just want to have--
That's all they really waaaant,
Some fun -- when the working day is done.
Girls -- they want to have fun,
Oh girls just want to have fun!"
Chloe sucked dick to the music. Like a girl who just wanted to have some fun.
When the video ended, Chris looked down at a horrified, degraded Chloe and sneered.
"Let's talk ground rules, shall we?" he said.
========================================== Coming, in Chapter Two
The enterprising Mr Walker unveils his evil plans for "Chloe Domination", well aware that a girl like Chloe wouldn't be bound to sexual contract by a video of her demonstrating her oral skills alone. But Chris is cunning, and hits precisely upon the one thing that Chloe will do anything to protect: her Mother's tenuous sanity.
FOREWORD
This
story is copyrighted. Please do not repost this without my express consent, or
use it for your profit. The characters portrayed herein are not based on any
real people - any likeness to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.
While
this story is not intended to offend, it does contain material that you may
consider offensive. If you find non-consensual sex, humiliation and blackmail
(just a few of the themes in this story) unpalatable, then please, for your
sake, do not read any further. For the rest of you fellow deviants, hi! I hope
you enjoy it.
One last
thing: further installments to this story will depend on feedback - and if it's
rubbish, let me know! Also, your suggestions are more than appreciated, so if
you have any ideas that you feel might enhance the story, feel free to email
me: [email protected].
Now,
without further ado!
Welcome
to Clementine Academy.
==========================================
Chapter One, Part One
In which
Chloe Anne Valentine sets herself up for an unhappy future.
(Section
codes: slow)
Chloe
Valentine sat cross legged on an unusually plush leather couch outside the
headmaster's office of Clementine Academy, playing Snake on her mobile. She'd
given up trying to make sense of the muffled voices of her mother and the head
teacher, who were no doubt negotiating terms for her enrolment. Chloe was a bad
girl, or so the education board had decided. She was a rebel. Some said was a
disposition born from her unfortunate tendency to fall into the wrong crowds,
others believed that it was the direct cause of an unhappy home. Whenever
Chloe's will had been contested by a so-called authority figure, she'd had
"violent episodes", according to the complaints on her permanent
record. This was, in fact, the cause of her first expulsion, after she'd had an
argument with her physical education teacher and attacked him with a badminton
racket.
Her real
problem was that she considered school to be a waste of her time. "Well,
if that's how you feel," the guidance teacher of her last school had
asked. "Why don't you just leave?"
Chloe
supposed she just hadn't decided what to do with her life yet. School, to her,
was youth limbo. 'Time to plan ahead' was what her guidance counsellor
suggested she make of it, although this invariably translated into endless
procrastination:
'I wanna
be an artist'. She could; her doodles were excellent, but "artist"
was rather a grandiloquent term for her talent. "Tattoo artist",
perhaps.?
'I wanna
be an actress'. She could probably do that too; she was clever, and could
convince people of nonsense with quite the serious (or otherwise appropriate)
face - but didn't that just make her a good liar??
'Or maybe
I'll be a model', she'd tell herself, striking poses in the mirror. It was
another potential future for Chloe; she was a bit short of gorgeous, but that
didn't mean she still couldn't turn heads with a little effort. Effort she
rarely, if ever, made. She had beautiful, long, thick dark-brown hair and
chestnut eyes, pale skin and a slender, lithe body; assets she undervalued. For
whenever Chloe talked about a future in modelling, she was joking. When she
struck a pose, she aimed for a caricature of herself. She had low self-esteem,
but that was all terribly well hidden by a bad attitude.
Her snake
took a wrong turn, missed the apple and went crashing into itself. It was Game
Over. Chloe sighed and chucked her mobile onto the sofa beside her. It was a
stupid game anyway, she thought. What use has a snake for apples? And why
should coiling in on itself have such disastrous consequences??
Chloe was
bored. They'd been in there for almost forty minutes now. What on earth could
they be talking about that should take so long? Chloe stuck the tip of her
thumb in her mouth and chewed the nail absently, looking around the empty
waiting room. The walls were dotted with weird pictures, what Chloe could only
imagine were weak attempts at modern (and therefore abstract) art, but they had
a distracting effect. Her eyes were inexplicably drawn to the mundane drawings;
pictures of plants with legs and painted toenails, animals with sultry, pouting
lips, a motorbike standing at a podium, giving a speech to hundreds of other
vehicles. Chloe thought they were all pretty stupid. Probably quite expensive,
though. Well, if she decided she wanted to be expelled from this school,
stealing them might be a good way to go about it.?
The door
to the office opened and the headmaster poked his head around the doorframe. He
was a short, podgy man with a bald patch and kind blue eyes. He smiled politely
at Chloe.
"Would
you like to come in and take a seat, Miss Valentine?" he asked. Chloe
grunted, snatched up her phone and slid off the sofa. She stepped into the
office and took a seat next to her mother, in front of the headmaster's
mahogany desk. "Dr Hodges," read the name-plate facing their
direction. 'A doctor of what?' Chloe wondered, but the good doctor explained it
for her.
"It's
a pleasure to meet you, Chloe," he said, smiling again. "My name is
Dr Hodges, but I am the headmaster for this school, I assure you. The degree is
in psychology."
'Great,'
Chloe thought. 'Psycho-analysis time. More fucking inkblots that look like
badminton rackets'.
"Don't
worry though," said Dr Hodges, as if reading her mind. "I won't be
analysing your every move and mood: we have staff here that are paid to do that
instead." He laughed, and Chloe's mother chuckled. Chloe cast her a
sidelong glance, irritated.
"Now,"
said Dr Hodges. "Shall we get down to business? I have a few things for
you to sign, Miss Valentine. For official purposes..."
Chloe
hadn't anticipated that she could possibly pushed to further depths of boredom,
but Dr Hodges exceeded himself in that capacity. Not only did he lavish her
with careful praise - a naked tactic to try and warm her to the forthcoming
lecture on school policy - by pinpointing the few, isolated lines in her
permanent record that actually spoke well of her; mostly her achievements in
art. Of course, the compliments didn't keep coming for long. There was only so
much you could say about a girl like Chloe to make it sound as though she might
have a promising future. At one point, the headmaster had even requested that
he take Chloe's photograph. "For official purposes", of course. Chloe
didn't smile.
"You
understand, Chloe, that due to your prior... misadventures, this school will
not tolerate any bad behaviour on your part?" Dr Hodges asked.
Chloe dug
a finger into the pocket of her jeans and fished out a packet of Juicy Fruit
chewing gum, unwrapped it with one hand and popped it in her mouth. She started
chewing, and nodded.
?
"Good.
I'm glad. Also, seeing that you're both here together," Dr Hodges glanced
at Mrs Valentine, and then back at her daughter. "It might be an idea to
discuss our "buddy system" policy for children with behavioural
issues..."
And he
did. What Hodges went onto outline in the next fifteen minutes left Chloe
aghast, and on the ride home, she expressed her feelings calmly and succinctly
to her Mother:
"This
is fucking stupid, Mom!" she'd said, and her Mother had shrugged.
Secretly, she was actually quite pleased by Dr Hodge's system; it would mean
Chloe wouldn't have the chance to associate with whatever "bad
elements" Clementine might have, at least to begin with. The buddy system,
as far as Mrs Valentine was concerned, was ingenious. For the first three
months of any pupil's enrolment to the school, they are assigned a voluntary
"buddy": a capable, exemplary pupil of both academic and social
proportions. This buddy is allocated a seat next to, or near the pupil in every
available class and encouraged to associate with the pupil during lunch and
break times. In exchange, the "mentor" is compensated with extra
credit, which allowed them to drop a class or two in some cases. ?The idea of the system is that the positive
qualities of the accomplished buddy rub off on the bad-apple pupil.?
Chloe was
in a strop for the rest of the ride home. She glared out of the passenger
window, her delicate features scrunched into a brattish frown. She spoke only
once, and that was to snap at her Mother for turning the radio station to a
"the golden oldies" channel.
Chloe's
mood lessened in intensity as the evening progressed. The Valentines had just
recently moved house; a necessity after Chloe's banishment from her previous
school. As such, the house was full of boxes that dotted the hallway and
swarmed what her Chloe's Mother had decreed would eventually be the guest room.
Chloe's room was in particular disarray. Mrs Valentine had left her to deal
with unpacking her own gear, and it was a decision she was sorely regretting.
Two weeks and all Chloe had managed to do was turn each box on its head and
empty her belongings out onto the floor. Clothes and CDs made up her carpet,
along with the occasional bundle of notes from her last school. Chloe didn't
really seem to own anything else.
However,
the strain and stress of moving and unpacking meant that, for the last few
weeks, Mrs Valentine had been too exhausted to cook, which meant Chloe got to
feast on a variety of free take-aways and this always seemed to lighten her
mood. By the time she'd consumed her body weight in sweet and sour chicken and
noodles, she was her lightened self again.
About an
hour after their meal, Chloe lay stretched out on the sofa, while her Mother
sat contentedly in a dowdy armchair that she'd bought from a charity shop two
days ago; a furnishing Chloe had refused to touch due to the fact that it,
quote, "looked like a skin disease". They were both watching
television, but there wasn't really anything on. The telephone rang.
"Phone,"
Chloe announced, without taking her eyes from the screen.
"You're
closest," her Mother protested.
"It's
never for me," Chloe replied.
"You
never know. It might be Grant," her Mother teased, not yet aware that
Chloe had finished with him shortly before the move. He was a good-looking guy,
but he hadn't really interested Chloe for long. He was a bit wet, she thought,
for a guy. She hadn't given him much thought since she'd left. And she
certainly hadn't given him a forwarding telephone number.
When
Chloe didn't move, her Mother sighed and dragged herself out of the skin
disease. There was a short exchange, which Chloe didn't listen to, until her
Mother announced:
"It's
for you, love."
"Who
is it?"
"Here,"
her Mother dodged the question. Chloe scowled, and hopped off the sofa, taking
the telephone from her Mother.?
"Hallo?"
she spoke into the receiver.
"Hi,
Chloe?" asked the voice on the other end. It was male, but she didn't
recognise it.
"Maybe.
Who's this?"
"My
name's Chris. I'm sorry to call you so late. You aren't busy, are you?"
"No,"
Chloe replied. "But I don't know anybody called Chris."
"No,
not yet you don't," the voice smiled, charismatic. "I'm at
Clementine's, too. Dr Hodges asked me to give you a call this evening. I've
been assigned to you as your buddy."
Chloe
hung up.
?
==========================================
Chapter One, Part Two
In which
Christopher Allan Walker expresses his disappointment.
(Section
codes: slow)
Willing
to give Chloe the benefit of the doubt, Chris first checked his mobile, making
sure that the battery hadn't died or he hadn't run out of credit. Then he
redialled her number, but the telephone had apparently been left off the hook.
Chris tossed his mobile onto the bed and walked over to the mirror,
scrutinising his own reflection. Pinching two fingers together, carefully, he
plucked at a few strands of hair until the gel held it spiked in a more
pleasing manner.?
Chris was
a lot of things, but his vanity was what he considered to be his worst quality.
Not because he believed self-obsession was something to be ashamed of, but
because taking care of his looks ate into so much of his free time. And style
wasn't exactly inexpensive, either. Chris had once taken the time to work out
that in some weeks, he actually spent more money on hair gel, hair wax, hair
putty, hair spray, shampoo, conditioner, moisturising cream, exfoliating gels,
scented scrubs, pore-cleansing wipes and various other hygiene-enhancing
products than he did on food. Which was, he fully realised, insane. But if that
was the price of looking so good, he thought, then he was getting off light.
After a
few long, careful moments of preening and self-maintenance, Chris tore himself
away from the mirror and returned to his biology revision. Chris was
Clementine's star pupil, its pride and joy: a student that excelled in almost
every subject, with an aptitude for anything he seemed to put his mind to. He
was validation for the school's grandiose claims that it educated and bred
"some of the finest students the country has to offer".?
But Chris
Walker wasn't exactly a boy to follow by example, for the large majority of his
successes and achievements were wrought through crooked activity. Chris was an
extremely bright, clever young man, but he was lazy, too. And from this blend
of intelligence and sloth, his conniving, deceitful ways had been born. Chris
was a liar, a thief and a man as manipulative as they came. He attained test
scores through prior insight to the test's content, and his expansive list of
achievements could invariably be credited to someone else's effort. Through
bribery, blackmail or other intimidating method, Chris usually got what he
wanted. If he didn't, someone else wound up in a bad way.
Chris
flicked open his biology textbook to reveal a sheaf of paper tucked between its
pages, the answers for his upcoming exam scrawled there by one of his many
informants. As he suspected, he'd be committing to memory various obvious
definitions as well as a few specific nuggets of information. Osmosis,
diffusion, species indicators - bitch - genetic formulae, cell structures,
Darwinian theory - fucking hang up on me - and its contestors, various
differences between animal and plant base cells - nobody fucking hangs up on me
- and so on and so forth.
Eventually,
Chris got bored. He slapped the book shut and loaded up his pc, selecting a few
tracks for easy listening to help him relax. He picked up Dr Hodge's letter,
which had been delivered to him during English class earlier on in the day, and
stared at the request with disgust. The buddy program. It was a ridiculous
concept. Reform the convicts! Chris snorted, and read over the juicier lines of
the headmaster's request. One such gem read:
"...
in assisting Clementine Academy in making the new girl, Chloe Valentine, feel
welcome. As you may have heard, Chloe was ejected from full-time education in
her last school under extreme circumstances which, in the interests of
confidentiality ..."
Chris
wondered what exactly "extreme circumstances" amounted to, but didn't
give it too much thought. Such official terminology was too vague to assess.
Extreme circumstances could mean anything from threatening a teacher to burning
the school down. Heck, he'd seen some student profiles that had seen them
seriously reprimanded for refusing to conform to Clementine's strict religious
attitude and attend church every Sunday morning. Expulsion usually meant
extreme over-reaction, as far as Chris was concerned.
Besides,
he thought, unclipping a photocopy of Chloe's polaroid from the letter and
stroking her face with his thumb, this girl was too cute to be mean. Why, if
you squinted, she almost looked like that chick off Neighbours. And that was no
bad thing.?
Rubbing
his crotch absently, Chris resolved to add Chloe to the list of achievements.
Sure, she was being uncooperative at the moment, but she hadn't met him yet.
Let her resolve weaken a little, have her conform to this stupid buddy program
so Chris could have his extra credit and drop a class. This little project was
easy points for the lucky Clementine student appointed to handle it. The only
downsides, as far as Chris could foresee was that, one, he'd actually have to
work on this one himself and two, he'd have to spend time with a potential
social reject.
But hey,
he reminded himself. She's cute. And if she did prove to be a stubborn little
fox, well, Chris had ways of dealing with that, too.
Sighing,
aroused now, Chris sunk down in his chair and fired up his internet browser.
Destination, porn.
?
==========================================
Chapter One, Part Three
In which
a very naughty girl meets a very nasty boy.
(Story
codes: slow)
Mrs
Valentine had offered to give her daughter a lift to school, but Chloe had
opted to take the school bus instead. It wasn't that she particularly wanted to
associate with her future classmates as soon as possible, it was merely that
she didn't want to be seen being dropped off by her Mother. She could be...
unpredictable, sometimes. So, slumped over two seats and her legs kicked up
over an arm rest, Chloe rode the bus.
Clementine
had prescribed a school uniform to Chloe's Mother, which Chloe had opted not to
wear despite such action contradicting the agreement Dr Hodges had had her sign
in his office two days previously. Chloe had taken one look at the stuffy,
maroon abomination and had turned her nose up to it. Defying every point of the
school dress code, Chloe was wearing pumps instead of shoes, trousers under her
pleated, grey school skirt and a comfortable black shirt that used to belong to
her father, who had been a small man. The maroon overcoat bearing the
Clementine insignia, shirt and tie that had been donated to her during
administration had been deliberately left neatly folded at her bedside back
home.
Chris was
four seats behind Chloe and very curious indeed. He sat, ignoring his friends,
staring at her dangling legs and thinking his perverted thoughts. Unlike the
adorable little rebel a few seats ahead, Chris adhered strictly to Clementine's
school policy, claustrophobic and abhorrent though it was. It was a means to
serve an end, after all.?
The fact
that Chloe shared the same bus as Chris was good news. It meant she lived
nearby, which meant if she became a problem for him in school over the buddy
program, he could become a problem for her outside school hours without having
to walk too far.
The bus
crawled to a halt outside Clementine's gates and discharged its student cargo,
before trundling off again. Chris caught up with Chloe on her way to the school
entrance. She was heading to the office to collect her timetable for the school
year.
"Hi
there," Chris said, appearing by her side and matching her pace. It was a
little slower than he liked to walk; it felt like a stroll without purpose.
Chloe
glanced at him. "Hallo," she replied.
"We've
been introduced already," Chris said, flashing his best smile. He'd spent
seven minutes brushing and four minutes flossing this morning.
Chloe
stopped walking, and Chris turned to face her. He was pretty sure she thought
he was cute. He registered a slight blush and inconsistent eye contact.?
"The
stupid buddy system?" Chloe asked. "Hey, Craig, no offence-"
"Chris,"
Clementine's pride and joy interjected casually.
"Chris,
then. I don't mean to offend you or anything, but you can hang out with me all
you like. It's not going to inspire me to think happy thoughts and be a good
girl for Hodges. So, if you don't mind-"
"Actually,
I do mind," Chris said. His mobile phone started ringing in his pocket.
Irritated, he clamped one hand over his leg, muffling it.
"That's
a pity. It would've been easier if you didn't," Chloe said. "Your
phone's ringing."
And with
that, she turned on her heel and marched indoors.?
"Fuck,"
Chris said, pulling out his phone. "What?" he demanded.
"Hey,
Walker. News from the hub, buddy."
It was
Mitchell. Mitchell was the closest thing Chris had to a friend, but was still
not an individual he was beyond manipulating, especially given his exceptional
computer skills. Hacking was his middle name. Well, it was if you pronounced
"George" really badly. The "hub" was what Mitchell referred
to as Clementine's head office which, in this instance, meant he'd done Chris'
homework on the new girl for him already.
"What've
you got, amigo?"
"Valentine,
Chloe. Seventeen years of age. Fuckable. There's a photo of her here,"
Mitchell said.
"I've
got her mug shot. Hodges sent me a copy from his private collection when he
drafted me in on this stupid program," Chris replied.
"Got
her ear-marked yet?"
"I'll
be making her scream my name before the week's out, dude."
The bell
rang, indicating the beginning of the school day.
"Hah,
'course you will. Let's just hope this little rabbit's of the willing variety
this time."
"Doesn't
matter if she's not, really. I'm too clean-cut for a delinquent like her to
damage my name, if there's cause for drastic measures. But yeah, I'm trying for
consensual, but she's just so fucking... ah, never mind. Look, I gotta get to
class. What's the news?"
"Oh,
right. Well, seems like she's a real firecracker, that one. Her last head
teacher practically wrote a thesis on her anti-social behaviour. Comes from a
wrecked home, lonely background, typical tear-jerker stuff. Daddy's dead.
Something to do with narcotics and hookers, but no juicy details. Mom's got
herself a mental disorder. "Simple" schizophrenia, whatever that is.
Chloe... well, she's a wannabe drug dealer, man. Got caught peddling her Mom's
brain medicine to a bunch of fourteen year-olds on school premises."
Chris
laughed. "Thanks, buddy. Hey, fill me in on the rest at lunch. Gotta go or
I'll be late."
"See
ya," Mitchell said, and Chris hung up and went to class.
?
==========================================
Chapter One, Part Four
In which
the rebellious Miss Valentine is reprimanded for her dreadful attire.
(Section
codes: slow)
"This
is a most displeasing attitude you're displaying, Chloe," said Hodges.
"I had hoped you might show some interest in fitting in here."
Chloe had
made it to fourth period before a teacher, well-known amongst the student
population for being anal, had sent her to the headmaster as a result of her
dress.
"Sorry,"
Chloe wasn't. She'd spent fifteen minutes staring at Dr Hodges' mind-boggling
art investment outside his office, trying to comprehend what level of stupidity
or madness would compel a man to buy such a selection of monstrosities. Sitting
in his office now, Chloe wasn't feeling inspired to behave all dilligent and
respectful in lieu of such poor taste. Even the decor of Hodges' office was
rife with ill taste, from the gold-plated name plate on his mahogany desk to
the psychiatrist-plush leather chairs and mauve wallpaper. Who did this guy
think he was? The head teacher of a sub-standard school, or a rich and
successful psychiatrist? Or, perhaps the more apt question was: what did this
guy wish he was? Chloe couldn't respect a guy that refused to come to terms
with his own reality.
Hodges
tried another approach. "How's the buddy program going? You've been in...
two classes with Chris, now? How are you two getting along?"
"Oh,
famously. He's like my best friend already," Chloe said, twirling a lock
of hair around one finger.
Dr Hodges
wasn't stupid. He picked up the sarcastic undertones immediately, somewhat
proud at his speed of detection and, indeed, his expectation of Chloe's tone.
He clasped his chubby fingers together on his desk and leant forwards.
"Miss
Valentine, the buddy system is there for your benefit. If you aren't going to
take it seriously, then-"
"I'm
not going to take it seriously," Chloe said, flatly.
"-THEN
I will take steps to ensure that this school has at least done its best to
involve you. This Sunday, instead of attending church, I'd like you to meet up
with Christopher to study for your English aptitude test on Monday. He's an
excellent tutor. That's the deal, Miss Valentine: I let you out of church for
the day and you study. Is that fair?"
Church.
Chloe had already expressed her opposition to its imposition on her life in
their first meeting and Dr Hodges knew perfectly well that it was a useful
bargaining tool already.
"Fine,"
Chloe said.
?
==========================================
Chapter One, End Part
In which
the two study buddies take their relationship to a new level.
(Section
codes: M/f, nc, violent, humiliation, blackmail)
Checking
her watch, Chloe knocked on the door at the address Chris had provided a second
time and resolved to wait another minute before she gave up and left. Mentally,
she started counting the seconds. Under her left arm was a wrinkled assortment
of English notes from her previous school; she wasn't sure if she'd need them,
but she'd brought them along just in case.?
Chloe glanced
at her watch again, sighed, and smoothed a crease out of her top. She hadn't
planned on doing anything today in spite of Dr Hodges' demands, except maybe
laying about in bed in her pyjamas eating cereal and watching cartoons, and yet
here she was, standing on what she presumed was Chris Walker's doorstep and
obnoxiously ringing the doorbell. It was her Mother's influence - that bastard
Hodges had phoned her at home and explained the deal he'd struck with her
daughter and, while Mrs Valentine hadn't exactly pressured Chloe to comply,
she'd emphasised her disappointment in all the subtle ways a parent can. Chloe
had eventually consented to Chris' Sunday morning tutorial, and here she was.
Chris was
inside making the last few adjustments to the stage when the doorbell rang. It
had been awkward to arrange, and he'd had to pull in a lot of resources in
order to occupy someone else's house for the day, but here he was. He even owed
people favours now, for fuck's sake. Oh, Chloe had better appreciate the effort
being made for her here, Chris thought, a wry grin on his face. He strode over
to the television set and picked up its remote, tucking it into his back
pocket. Caught momentarily by his reflection in the dark screen of the tv on
standby, he paused to fiddle with his hair and smooth an eyebrow. The doorbell
went off a second time, distracting him. He tore himself away from his
reflection long enough to make it to the doorway, before he turned and gave the
room one last perusal. It looked like a normal teenage boy's bedroom, which was
good, because that's exactly how it was supposed to look. A carefully stacked
books masked the "on" light of a sneakily placed camera on the
bookshelf, while another sat atop Chris' pc in plain view (if asked, "it's
a webcam"). Having to make do with only two camera angles was rather
limiting, but so long as Chris paid attention to his positioning on the stage,
that shouldn't be too much of an issue. Of course, if Chloe just cooperated,
all of this would prove to be uneccessary. Still, it was better to be safe than
sorry. With that thought in mind, he checked his pocket for the penknife. Still
there.
By the
time Chris made it to the door, Chloe was practically leaning on the buzzer.
"Chloe,
hi!" he greeted her with a warm smile and gestured for her to come in,
widening the door. "Come on in." She looked good; better than before.
His predatory eyes trained on her body as she stepped past him, and Chris
decided that Chloe was making a definite effort. Her clothes were coordinated
today; a short, close-fitting aquamarine top and hip-hugging jeans made a
simple yet complimentary casual outfit and, indeed, it even seemed as though
Chloe had straightened her hair. It had lost its slight curl. As she passed,
Chris even caught a whiff of perfume which, to him, smelled of summer gardens
and swimming pools. He liked it.
He guided
her through to where he remembered the kitchen to be. Chris had spent a short
while making damn sure he'd memorised the layout of the house before Chloe arrived.
He certainly didn't want to open a door and walk into a closet by accident;
mistakes like that on an operation as delicate as this could not be risked.
Chris successfully navigated her to the kitchen and the two sat at the table
briefly, exchanging polite conversation and mundane pleasantries. Chloe didn't
seem to be so stand-offish either, which surprised Chris. In fact, the closest
thing she came to being rude was declining a glass of orange juice when
offered.
In the
past, this might have frustrated Chris, who had been known to use the strong
taste of orange juice as an effective disguise for whatever drug he wished to
administer the girl of the moment. Chris had experimented with a variety of
mind-altering and mood-bending drugs, from ecstacy to rohypnol, usually in
order to try and enhance a girl's sexual drive and make her appear more willing
when setting situations such as these up. They had been universal failures, and
Chris had determined that there just wasn't a drug that could put a bitch in
heat. If there were, he imagined that the open market wouldn't have need for
its absurd variety of worthless "aphrodisiacs" and herbal supplements
which claimed to boost the sex drive. They'd have the definite article and the
masses would be buying.
Rohypnol,
while useful for fucking a girl and leaving her with no memory of the event,
left her about as responsive as a fish for the act itself. Chris had thought he
might as well fuck a coma victim for all the fun it was. On camera, rohypnol
girls did not look like they were enjoying themselves. Indeed, it looked as
though they had passed out and he was merely having his sick way with an
unconscious drunk. He couldn't possibly use any of those videos for leverage.
Ecstacy
had also been a disaster. Having never experimented with the drug himself,
Chris was assured by various texts found on the ever-reliable internet that the
stimulant enhanced a person's pleasure centres. While not strictly inaccurate,
Chris had nonetheless gotten the wrong idea. Upon spiking a girl with the
stuff, he'd waited and he'd waited for the girl to get so horny she just
pounced on him, but it never happened. Instead, she just started talking and
talking and wouldn't shut the fuck up. No, Chris had decided to lay off the
drug approach and rely on good old fashioned blackmail. It was 100% effective
in his experimentation, and damned if it didn't make him feel fantastic.
Blackmail was a drug Chris had faith in.
"Chloe,"
Chris started, tentative. They'd moved the proceedings into the bedroom. Chris
was a fast worker. "If you don't mind my asking, what caused you to change
your mind? About the buddy system, I mean."
"I
haven't," Chloe said quietly. "I still think it's a dumb idea, but...
I didn't want to upset my Mother. With all the stress of moving and all,"
she added, quickly.
Yeah,
right, Chris thought. The stress of moving, THAT'S what would make her so
easily upset. Not the fact that she was a head-case, oh no. But Chris mouthed
friendly understandings instead. Why, it seemed as if the two were getting
along quite well, given the shaky start to their relationship. Chris went
through the motions of trying to sound informed on the subject of the
Canterbury Tales, having spent a painful hour the previous evening researching
the material. Himself, again. But Chloe seemed to appreciate the effort he'd
put in there, so it hadn't been a waste of time. They worked for an hour before
Chris suggested a break, which Chloe was glad to accept.?
In the
adjacent guest room, sitting at his laptop, watching the scene through the two
camera angles they'd set up, Mitchell was getting bored. He sent Chris an
impatient text message:
"hurry
the fuck up"
Mitchell
was tech support here. He'd been through this routine with Chris a few times
already. Primarily, his function was to make sure nothing went wrong, to ensure
that everything recorded. But he had another role, too: routing the image
through the television screen in the bedroom when Chris gave the signal. Timed
humiliation for the hapless victim of Chris' twisted set-ups.?
Upon
receiving the text, Chris gave the "webcam" camera a sly wink.
Mitchell scowled and opened a beer. What the fuck was taking him so long??
Back in
the bedroom, Chris was sitting on the bed next to Chloe, fixing her with one of
his smokey looks, trying to look ravishing. Chloe was sitting cross-legged on
the bed, surrounded by notes, chewing the tip of her pen. She watched Chris
close in, infringing on her personal space a little more with every cute remark
until he was right in front of her. Chloe didn't give him any signs that she
wasn't impressed; she was too amused by his behaviour. Oh, let him make a fool
of himself, she thought with a smile. Tease him a little. Couldn't hurt
bringing the self-obsessed idiot down a peg or two, right?
Eventually,
Chris was so close he could smell her sweet breath. Close enough to kiss her,
and so kiss her he did. Chloe hadn't been expecting such a rapid advance. It
took her by surprise, but that didn't stop her shoving him off him instantly.
"Hey!
HEY! Keep your tongue in your mouth, big shot" she said hotly, starting to
gather up her notes.
"What?"
Chris was surprised, too. He was certain that she'd been flirting with him,
begging for him to kiss her with those big brown eyes. Fucking tease.
"Hey, c'mon, don't be like that. We're buddies."
"Not
that kind of buddies. I know we're supposed to be best friends under this
program, but I don't think you're supposed to get THAT close."
It was
then that Chris seemed to lose it. He freaked out, pulled a knife on her, held
it to her throat. He had her pinned to the bed, crushing her with his weight.
It was so sudden Chloe barely even had a chance to realise the severity of the
situation, but she reacted violently the instant she felt under assault, old
habits dying hard. Chloe thrashed, but he held her steady. His first impulse
was to punch her in the face. Bitch! How dare she be so snide! To him! But no,
he couldn't mess up her pretty face for the camera. This all had to come off
smoothly and her appearance was important. This was the hard part.
And Chloe
wouldn't calm down. Despite Chris' threats to slice open her throat if she
didn't shut up and stop struggling, she was kicking and screaming. In the next
room, Mitchell was peering out of the window to make sure the whole
neighbourhood wasn't coming to investigate.
Chris
pressed the blade into the flesh of her throat, the point of the tip yet to
draw blood, but close. It was a fine line. Chloe was in pain now, and that
seemed to quieten her.
"I'm
going to stick this in your fucking throat if you don't stop behaving like a
little baby, you bitch,"
"You're
fucking crazy!" Chloe shrilled. Chris elbow was crushing her breast, and
it was hard to breathe with his weight pressing down on her tummy, pressing the
air out of her. And the knife was against her throat so hard that Chloe was
sure if she flinched, she'd bleed.
"Don't
try me, Chloe," Chris warned. And they lay like that for a while. Chloe,
too scared to move in case her psycho study buddy got slash-happy and Chris
trying to catch his breath. He repositioned himself on her body and Chloe felt
something hard pushing into her side. Oh, God.
"All
I want is a blowjob, Chloe," Chris said softly. "I'll let you go
afterwards, I promise."
"Fuck
you!"
"You
bitch! I'll slash your throat!"
"Get
off me!" Chloe's struggling started anew. Chris took the risk. Aiming
carefully, he hit her in the face. Not hard enough to mess her up, just hard
enough to get her attention. Chloe was crying now. Anger, whack, fear. The
change was that quick. Like flicking a switch.
"Please,"
her struggles were weak now, too. Being so feisty all the time was obviously
draining. "Don't hurt me. Let me go, I won't tell anyone." Her hair
clung to her face in bangs where her tears had made her cheeks hot and sticky.
Eye make-up was running. Shit, Chris thought, and tried to clean it up with a
thumb. She couldn't look too upset. Poor image quality would mask her distress
so long as she didn't look too bad.
"Shh,"
he comforted her. "It's okay. Just a blowjob..." and, while Chloe
sobbed, Chris unzipped his pants and pulled out his rigid dick. He slid off her
chest and, helping her sit up, navigated her off the bed. Chloe seemed like she
was in shock: confused and frightened. Her bad-girl demeanour had been
shattered so easily. Chris was rather proud of his handiwork.
He guided
Chloe to her knees, concealing the knife from the view of the cameras, pressing
his dick to her soft lips. He reminded her of his threat to cut her if she
didn't cooperate, "keep those teeth out of the way" and "be a
good girl". To Chris' immense satisfaction, Chloe's lips parted, and he
slid his aching dick into her mouth, sighing.
"Suck
it," he commanded, and she dutifully obliged. The little trooper actually
started swirling her tongue around the head of his penis, suckling at his prick
wetly. He placed one hand on her head, sliding his fingers through her soft
hair and began to slide the thick shaft in and out of her wet, slurping mouth.
Tears were steadily trickling down her cheeks as Chris slowly, almost lovingly
fucked her face with his tool. His free hand remained in his pocket, clasping
the knife, ready. Just in case.
"Oooh,
yeah," Chris moaned as Chloe's oral ministrations did the trick. After a
few minutes of forced sucking, Chris jerked his dick free of her cock-sucking
lips and squirted hot cum in her eyes. Give her something to cry about, Chris
thought, leering.?
"Lick
me clean and we're done," he told her, sounding so sincere. Her eyes
stinging and her throat convulsing, trying so hard not to break down and cry,
reapplied her lips to his dick and sucked the rest of the goo off his penis,
swallowing it. Chloe felt as if her brain had locked her body out, as if it was
flat-out refusing to cooperate and let her resist. She was burning with hate
and evil thoughts, and yet, she was still sucking his dick right until it went
soft and he stashed it back in his pants.
Laughing,
Chris nodded to the camera.
"Cue
the movie," he said, for Chloe's benefit, since Mitchell couldn't actually
hear him. Chris whipped out the remote control from his back pocket and,
winking at Chloe (who was on her knees, bewildered and smearing his cum over
her face in an attempt to wipe it off), pointed it at the big Tv set that
dominated the room. The image filled the screen in all its glory, and Chloe
watched in horror as a girl that looked a lot like her sucked some guy's dick
in a very amateurish pornographic short. As a joke, Mitchell had overlaid the
images with a song he'd brought along for this specific purpose, "Girls
Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper.
"The
phone rings in the middle of the night,
My father
yells 'what you gonna do with your life?'
Oh daddy
dear you know you're still number one,
But girls
they want to have fun.
Oh girls
just want to have--
That's
all they really waaaant,
Some fun
-- when the working day is done.
Girls --
they want to have fun,
Oh girls
just want to have fun!"
Chloe
sucked dick to the music. Like a girl who just wanted to have some fun.
When the
video ended, Chris looked down at a horrified, degraded Chloe and sneered.
"Let's
talk ground rules, shall we?" he said.
==========================================
Coming, in Chapter Two
The enterprising
Mr Walker unveils his evil plans for "Chloe Domination", well aware
that a girl like Chloe wouldn't be bound to sexual contract by a video of her
demonstrating her oral skills alone. But Chris is cunning, and hits precisely
upon the one thing that Chloe will do anything to protect: her Mother's tenuous
sanity.
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xmoviesforyouHi guys Ramesh again here with my second part of story. For the first part, search with same name part 1. For those who don’t know I will introduce myself first. I am a 28 years old Software engineer residing in Bangalore, looking for open relationship with females. Mail me your comments and feedback here at and get free lifetime pleasure if interested. Coming to story my heroine is a married lady Kruthi from Bangalore. We became friends in online chat. Later exchanged phone numbers and...
I thought my sis and I shared a close bonding moment in her dorm room a few months back, but apparently she does not feel the same way. She feels that I took advantage of her being lonely, horny and drunk. Not only does she want to forget that we fucked each other, but she told me it could NEVER happen again! Problem is…. I don’t want to forget that we fucked! Matter of fact, I cant wait to feel her tight pussy wrapped around my cock again! Thankfully she is coming home for...
xmoviesforyouIn some European countries are different rules about how old children may be present in the opposite locker room. Mainly there are problem with too old boys, mothers sometimes bring their schoolage sons with her to women’s locker of swimming pools, because they don't want to let them be alone at men’s locker room. This will lead to little girls and their mothers protest. The foremost thing is that a 10-year-old girl would not want to be with a boy the same age such as after swimming in the...
Warren and Elise were in Elise's car, on the way to the hospital. "Why she does these things to herself..." Warren said. "I know." Elise sighed. "I should have seen this coming. She's been a mess all week." Elise told him about the previous drunken episode, and about Sophia seeing him at the rink. "She was there? She heard me? And she still didn't come in?" Warren took a deep breath. "She had the opening of all time. She knew how I was going to react. And she still didn't come...
My boyfriend and I had been together for nearly a year, meeting when I was 17 and sexually inexperienced, we had enjoyed discovering each others bodies. One thing we hadn't yet done was anal sex but it was something my boyfriend had mentioned doing a few times. He was very keen to try, I was more reluctant. The few times he had pressed his cock against my bum hole it had felt uncomfortable and strange. I had seen many examples of it in porn we had watched and decided it would be worth a try but...
AnalWow. The man could definitely kiss. I hadn't felt sparks like that since, well last night. Mentally I groaned. Last night. No matter how many times I went over it in my head, I was still in disbelief that Nat would go down on me that way. Nat? Good ol' Nat, honorary brother number 6 who had never looked at me as more than a sister in his life? I dropped my head against the wall in my tiny entry and closed my eyes. Mark had really thrown me asking if Nat was a spurned lover. Lately,...
By the time Mike Grines, Director of the TDF, enters the Oval Office, it is already a full house. Grines left two of his agents just outside the White House doors and two more just outside the Oval Office with the contingent of Secret Service agents already lining the hall. Waiting with President McKinsey is the Vice President, Ulfr Hawke, and FBI Director, Todd Nichols. He nods to both men as he enters, but neglects to acknowledge either of the other two men present. McKinsey stands and...
Heller went into her room, it was hot. He quietly walked over to her bed and sat down at her sleeping next to Tanya. She lay there topless, her nipples were pink and were excited. Heller slowly removed her panties and spread her legs, lay on it and tearing the hymen, abruptly walked into the vagina ...
“Those biscuits were great as ever, but it’s definitely time for more sex!” I commented as we returned to Aunt Molly’s place, this time including Lisa and Shawn. “Yum, yum! I think that we need to make it last all day! That way, when Bryan, Jamie, and Shannon are done, they can fuck us, too! Shouldn’t we invite Jenna, David, Amber, James, Jonathan, Jennifer, Mary, Pastor Mike, Robin, and anyone else who you wish to own? I’d especially enjoy watching you bugger Jonathan! Deep down, he’s...
Raven Hart goes all-in with five dudes, as they savagely fuck every one of her holes until she’s utterly wrecked. She throws herself into it from the very start, choking down all five cocks, jerking and working them as the guys strip her naked. Her pussy drips with squirt long before she even gets the first dick in her, as one dude after the other uses her throat as their own personal fuckhole. Raven’s tied up in a partial suspension with her legs spread, so her hungry, slutty cunt...
xmoviesforyouMegan Holly wants to either get her stepbrother, Codey Steele, into trouble or in her cooch, preferably the later. She puts her plan into action by making sure she’s in the kitchen washing the dishes when Codey comes in to make a sandwich. While Codey isn’t paying attention, Megan sprays herself with water to make her shirt see-through. She tells Codey that he’s a pervert and a creep before storming off. Later, Megan waits for Codey to be watching TV before she comes in...
xmoviesforyouWilly gets LaidTalk about the right place and the right time! I had waited so long to lose my virginity I had almost given up hope. I joined a dating site and went on a few dates but at 33 I guess my insecurity told and the dates went no further. I had always been so shy, too afraid to really talk to women or if I did I immediately adopted the ‘friend’ position. As such I have long been a shoulder to cry on and nothing more.I had met a woman online, she seemed really lovely and we had gone out...
Jason swallowed, excitement and nerves making it seem like there was an immovable lump in his throat. He was seated on the couch, in the dark, looking down into the upturned face of his mother as she knelt before him. Her lips were parted, and the flush in her cheeks made her seem younger than she was. Her hands were resting on his knees, lightly grasping, and she was meeting his gaze with an intensity that felt like it was burning him. Helen gently applied pressure to her son’s legs,...
It was summer before Jerry returned to the store. He used a cane to walk and moved with the kind of care associated with old men. His left arm and half his upper body was in a cast to allow his shoulder blade heal. His bullet wounds had healed, but on occasion the scar tissue pulled when he moved. Despite the fact that he had lost body mass, he remained a big powerful looking man. Entering through the back door, he was greeted by everyone and welcomed back to the shop with coffee and donuts....
Ana and I were getting along marvelously. If I wasn’t on duty at the base, I was at her house. We were very close to having guest arrive for the summer and we were about ready. Being about ready meant we had more time to play our little games. I would eat her out and she would pass out. Then when she would join me in this world, she would try to guess where my last load went. As I say, we enjoyed life. One evening, after my balls were drained and her lips had dried cum all over them, and we...
She had dinner on the table when Gary and David got home and when they were clearing the dishes from the table Gary asked: "We didn't have anything planned for tomorrow night, did we?" "Just an evening of mad, passionate love since David will be gone and we will have the house to ourselves." She saw him wince and he said, "Ouch!" "What means this "ouch?" I have to work late tomorrow night. It will probably be two in the morning before I get home." "Then I guess you will just...
As we got in my old car, I said, "Okay, where do we look? What are we looking for, anyway?" She said, "Something nice but not ostentatious. I'm thinking American. What about a Buick, a Caddy, a Lincoln, or Chrysler? You can get anything but I don't think a Mercedes or BMW would be your choice." "No, dear. I have had the driving courses according to my records but there is no indication that I really liked performance cars. They're nice. They're just not me." We made the rounds....
In chapter five Robert finely lost his cherry and much more. He is looking forward to time with Mary and the things he can experience and learn from her. He only sees a bright shinny time ahead with her. He has no way of knowing all the turning points that lay ahead of him. ********* When I arrived home his Dad was setting at the kitchen table drinking some home make wine. He looked mad as usual and ask me, where the fuck is my fish, I told him they were right here in the bucket,...
The reporter looked away from me, glancing at her notes in right hand. “Afternoon,” I called, seating myself and adjusting the chair in front of the television cameras.She nodded at me, turned to the first camera and delivered a short introduction about our interview. “So Mr Rawley, please can you take us back to the morning of the fifteenth?”“Sure.” I adjusted my check shirt in the baking heat of the bright lights of the studio. “I was the senior producer on World News’s flagship programme and...
Humor"I WILL NOT HAVE HIS BABY!" Sammi screamed as she picked up the butcher knife we had not seen on the floor next to her. "I will cut it out first!" She screamed in horror, as she plunged the knife towards her abdomen. My heart sank. Amy was not in the room. Megan was too far away, and besides, I was in front of her, blocking her way to Sammi. I realized with despair that no one was close enough to stop her, as I felt my body begin to move automatically. I had seen Megan move before, and...
The following week we kept in touch via text message. I was busy on the Friday night with work friends so we didn’t meet up. Amy explained that she was going shopping on Saturday morning, but we arranged to meet on Saturday evening.After a fairly heavy session on the beer on Friday night I woke up on Saturday feeling pretty rough! I managed to get myself out of bed and went down stairs to sit on the sofa and watch crap on TV. I got a call from Amy. She asked how my night went and how I was...
Selene bolted up as the feather on her coffee table began to spin wildly, with a glowing vapor wafting up from the silky strands. She crouched down beside the table and stared at the feather as it came to a sudden stop and the crystalline aurora became more focused and pressured, instantly being pushed away from the tip of the feather as if it were in a wind tunnel. It actually looked like passing comet, wrapped up in its tail. The feather began to twitch, with the tip changing direction by...