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Kim Lazenby's Resumé

By: PrimalRoots



(All characters sexually active in this story are at or above the age of eighteen. All characters are purely fictional. Check out my profile!)



I like to think of myself as a master of exploitation. Others will call me a bitch, a whore, or just plain evil. But my interference in the affairs of others is minimal; its victims further extend the problems I cause. Many solutions present themselves, but are neither explored nor realized. I feel no sympathy, and remain far from empathy. I only feel joy for every second of misery they experience. And the best part will always be the transition period; when they realize that the fun I gave them is becoming a great misfortune, and in some cases, a disaster. 

Ch. 01 - The High School Disaster

I am Kim Lazenby, currently twenty-six years old, located in California. Recently, to avoid issues with the Internal Revenue Service, I have been hired as a secretary. However, for what I consider to be my full time job, over the past eight years I have been self-employed as a social assassin.

The term is perhaps a tad extreme; I do not kill people, I kill their personalities and their social lives. If they are strong-willed, they will not become a victim. If they succumb, they must start their lives anew. What I do is not actually illegal, but the source of funds is always questionable. The IRS is not after me, I've just learned to be cautious.

Since my senior year at James K. Polk High School, I've been working to take down people who have been causing more problems than they should. Morally, there is always a better answer than what I do. Unfortunately for them, I don't care. I've never cared. Through my own experience, I have been desensitized beyond selflessness. I can feel joy, but only for myself. And I'm happy that way.

My first exploit was for the last of the "popular" kids, the stereotypes and emotional pariahs of teenage social circles. The only emotions they seem to be able to experience are anger, jealousy, and arousal. Their lack of care is far different from mine. They mindlessly hurt, lackadaisically and without consideration. I plan my moves, and deliberately do damage. 

It was spring, 2005. Most of the people in the senior class had already turned eighteen, save a few kids who skipped a year and the ones who were just born a few days before the cut off date for kindergarten applications. I was experiencing a humdrum, solitary life. 

I woke up between 6:00 and 6:30, depending on how late I had stayed up the night before. My alarm was always set for 6:00, but sometimes I just ignored it for a few more minutes of sleep. When I did decide to wake up, I would just walk to my closet and throw on the first things I saw, much like the average male. But like most girls, I had taken a shower the night before, so it wasn't necessary in the morning. After dressing, I lost track of what I did. Sometimes I would see a book lying around and start reading, other times I would pick up my guitar and start strumming. No matter what, I always lost track of time, and ended up leaving at least five minutes past 7:00. 

Arriving at the parking lot, I parked in my usual spot, only distinguishable from the others by the uneven separating lines. There I was sit in my car, listening to whatever CD I had in the radio. I was a rocker. 

At 7:20 the first bell would ring and I would go to class, straight from my car. Every day, I started out with Chemistry, then proceeded to my first English class, Sci Fi, and then went off to Government class (but the first semester was Economy). After "Nutrition Break" I would fall asleep in Differential Calculus, and then wake up again for AP English Literature, and enjoy a Caesar salad in my car for lunch. I ate all of it, but always wondered what they did the chicken that made so "not chicken" as I thought back then. When the bell rang yet again, I walked as slowly as I could to French 4, and after the painstakingly bland daily lecture on "eeeeuuuuuuuugggggghhhhh" and "aaauuunnnnnnggghhh" (no offense to the French, but I think the language is ludicrous), I would finish the day off with going to Mr. Kalman's World History class, in which I was his Teacher's Assistant.

When school ended, I would wait for about ten minutes for the major traffic jam of the parking lot to clear up, and make my exit from Polk High to return to my solitary cave and complete my homework. More often than not, I would spend hours on math homework because I didn't listen in class. My mother would bring dinner up to my room, as my family had grown less intimate as the years rolled on. Sometimes, if my music was off, I could hear her praising me over the phone as a studious young girl, but,"...not much of a looker."

No matter how much time I had to spend on homework, I would always finish it, and thoroughly too. Except for French homework, I would just gloss over that. But regardless, I was a hard worker. I kept to myself, enjoyed my music, and looked forward to the day when I could live comfortably, self-sustained, and not be bothered by anyone. I just didn't know how to accomplish it. There was no passion I had. I did love music, but there was no way in hell I was going to pursue it as a profession. Then came my first client, a vengeful teenager by the name of Lyle Drummond.

Lyle was the rich boy in town, the cock of the block, and the least liked senior in school. Perhaps it was his ego that made social issues such a major conflict for his mind, but whatever the cause, he could not stand the constant rejection of the people he deemed worthy of his time. I never noticed it; I had no connections of experiences with other students that school year. The extent of my conversational involvement with others was class projects. As fate would have it, that's how I ended up getting hired as Lyle's social assassin.

It was government class; the very beginning of March when I first heard about his troubles. Every month, we would all switch seats for whatever reason, and this time around, fate put Lyle and me very close. He was actually behind me, and sat next to some girl whose name I don't remember while I had the fortune of sitting next to no one. Although Lyle's neighbor for March was unpopular, she wasn't hated like him. But naturally, she was a good listener, willing to hear Lyle spout his teenage angst on a daily basis.

"All I do is give and give but they just don't care, you know? It pisses me off. I like them and they have no reason to dislike me. I could do a lot for them if they would just let me hang out with them."

I would listen to that every day. About a week and a half into March, the girl asked a question. "Who are they?" That was the first time any of it actually piqued my interest. I did want to know which ones he had formed his delusions over. Human psychology has always interested me, so a real application caused my ears to perk up. There were six. Garry Middleton, Pam Schoen, Fred Gris, Sarah Chula, Olive Pentar, and Ted Daley. The seed had been planted in my mind, albeit subconsciously, and without thinking about it I start to perk up my ears for word about them in all my other classes.

By the end of the month, when Spring had begun, I had collected a verified pool of information about each of them.

Garry Middleton, 18 as of that January, was a pitcher on Polk High's baseball team. Not the best pitcher, and not in the starting lineup, but the most popular player on the varsity team by far. He was notorious for meddling with the JV team as "initiation" for anyone planning on trying out for varsity the following year. As for the ones who didn't intend to, it was just hazing. He would do things like fill their mitts with superglue and cover their cleats in chewed gum, never taking into account that someone might want revenge on him. Any word about his personal life had to do with his close relationship with his car. 

Pamela Schoen, 18 as of that March, was probably the least aggressive of the group, but that's not to say she wasn't vicious and scathing. Where the others used actions, she only used words. Pam was an unconfirmed homophobe, often taunting people as "faggots" for simple actions such as carrying a roller backpack. She was incredibly concerned with her personal appearance, and anyone she considered to have a large circle of friends had the power to make her insecure only by saying, "Your hair is looking a little frizzy." Her response would be something along the lines of, "Fuck you, I don't need to be perfect." The next day she would come to school with straightened hair, and it would stay that way for some time. She was also single, but word was that she was holding out for someone, as she frequently had opportunities to enter into a relationship.

Fred Gris, 18 as of the previous December, was the theater king. I suppose since the 80's, theater has declined as a "gay" activity for men, so it never really bothered Pam. Often busy with rehearsal or a performance, Fred wasn't always around for the group's antics, but was always welcome when he had time. From the perspective of the athletes and the passivists (the inactive students with no extracurricular activities), he was a talented dramatic genius. From the perspective of the other theater kids, however, he was quite a diva. Fred had a need to prove everyone wrong, or at least be the most correct person in the room. Thus, he is also academically advanced. Unfortunately for my purposes (in causing social damage, not for my personal interest), the last thing on his mind was dating.

Sarah Chula, 19 because of being held back a year, was a shameless whore. Known as the least angry of the six, she would start up rumors about herself, and on occasion, prove them to be true. One such rumor was that she had gone streaking across the baseball field at another school. When students at that school denied it, she proceeded to actually commit the act, masked of course. When approached by the administration, she coolly responded, "I never know how these rumors start." The attention she got from the horny boys did not faze her like it would other girls, especially Pam. But if anyone made a move, Sarah would lay down swift vengeance. Sarah had recently broken up with Ricky Lutin in February, which caused the others to jettison him from their clique. 

Olive Pentar, 18 the day before spring break began, stereotypically enough, was a cheerleader. Against the current of the stereotype, however, she was in a long and serious relationship with Ted Daley, a mechanic whiz kid. Olive had a tendency to argue with everyone, especially her boyfriend. But at the end of the day, she would always forgive him. Everyone else never found themselves to be so lucky. She never spent any time defending her case, only attacking the other. So oftentimes, she would win arguments by yelling louder rather than being smarter or correct. Men learned long ago not to flirt with her at risk of genital defenestration. I couldn't find any information about her passions or her positive side.

Ted Daley, also 19 from being held back, and like many teenagers, had an inexplicable love for cars. But unlike most, he actually built a car piece by piece with the help of his father and uncle, and to my knowledge still drives it to this day. Later, you'll know why that surprises me. It seemed that there was nothing else he was interested in, save Olive. He had an ego much different from his friends. His generous thoughts of himself were based on delusion rather than insecurity. Whenever Olive had a bad day, he thought she could take solace in knowing she got to drive away in a handmade car with him. No matter how many arguments involved his obsession with automobiles, he would never understand that she truly did hate it. His view of the world was stagnant. Therefore, his attitude toward others reeked of violence.

The information I had gathered didn't actually have worth to me until one fateful conversation I had with Lyle when the girl he sat with wasn't at school one day. Even though I didn't like his whiny disposition, there was one thing he said that struck a nerve. After about ten minutes of the usual complaints, he said it. 

"They had a party last night, and of course I wasn't invited. I showed up anyway though because it's not like they have a right to tell me what I can and can't do. They were playing some shitty Eminem song, like Encore or whatever, so I changed it to Runnin' With the Devil because it's a good party song, you know? I thought that everyone loved Van Halen, but I guess I was wrong because they turned it off."

My personality had never reacted so strongly to something that could so easily be brushed off, but something just changed in me when he said this. It kept repeating in my head, "they turned it off." Physically, I didn't budge. But inside, I was boiling. It shouldn't have bothered me. They have the right to listen to whatever music they want, and comparatively to a lot of rap music, I didn't think Eminem was all bad. Even so, it clawed at my soul with relentless vigor, landing a few scratches until at last I burst.

"If you can't join 'em, beat the shit out of them," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"They won't accept you, they've made that clear. So before we graduate, I will ruin them for you."

He took a moment to register what I said. Being the rich money-buys-everything type, he asked, "How much?"

**********

Phase One

Spring Break had begun. Naturally, there would be plenty of parties to hold everyone over until the summer began. As a gimmick to add to their popularity, the PG-SOFT group (their name for themselves) planned one party every night at each of their respective homes, leaving the Monday and Thursday as a cool down period, and Sunday as a period of rest and detox before school started up again. As part of it, each party would go in order of the group name, Pam, then Garry, Sarah, Olive, Fred, and finally Ted. The parties would be quite large, so my presence wouldn't be noticeable until I made it that way, and after that I'm sure it wouldn't make a difference because my name isn't Lyle Drummond. The first party was Friday night, as Pam's house.

The thought had crossed my mind that their parents might oppose the alcohol flooded get-togethers, but then I figured that they knew what their were doing, so I didn't think about it. One way or another, no parents would be present.

When I arrived, the party was already raging on. The sun had set just an hour before, so there would be much liveliness for the next couple of hours. If anyone actually knew me, I'm sure their surprise at my presence would have been visible. I spent my time playing Super Smash Brothers Melee with a group of slightly more nerdy boys until I felt enough time had passed for Pam to be angry for some reason and pouting in her room, no boyfriend to console her and no friends not otherwise occupied. 

I found my way to her room and put on my concerned face. I entered, and seeing that she was lying on her bed quietly, I asked as sweetly and sympathetically as I could manage, "Hey, everything okay?" As I predicted, my tone led her to believe that we were friends at some point and she just forgot, knowing too wide a scope of people. So to avoid looking stupid, she played along.

"Guys are fucking pigs," she sniffed.

I sat down next to her on the bed. "You're telling me. You remember what Glen did to me last year," I lied, "but this isn't about me. What's wrong sweetie?"

"It doesn't matter. It's just going to keep happening and there's nothing I can do about it. I wish I could be more like Olive," Pam cried.

I tried using real logic, "You don't want to be like her, you should be glad you're independent."

"What do you mean?" she asked, now interested in what advice I had to give.

At this point I felt some pity, so I gave her some real advice before planting in my poison. "Just think about it. You can do whatever you want with your life right now. You don't have to be tied down by a boyfriend and all the drama that comes with one. I won't tell you to just suck it up, whatever's going on right now, but as a single girl, it doesn't have to affect you." My advice wasn't the best, but it was certainly better than anything her self-absorbed friends could manage, or that she could for that matter. I gave her the advantage of pretending she could remember my name. "My mother's told me a million times, 'Kim, you don't need anyone to make you happy except yourself.' So I took it to heart. You think you can try?"

She sniffed and rolled over to face me. "I guess... but how?" She looked truly desperate for an escape from a terrible world that tormented her. If I had been a subject of the Gatsbyesque world of high school, I would have believed her. But I knew better, and later I found out that all that bothered her that night was a guy complimenting her teal tank top. She had assumed it was a comment about her breasts. But I digress.

Now it was time to play on her inner desires. "Well, what's something you've always wanted to do?" 

Pam thought for a moment, but nothing came to mind. "I don't know."

"Come on, even if it's silly," I assuaged.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll think of something... but right now..." I suppose she thought that I knew what she was going to say, but I simply didn't.

"What?" I asked, slightly fearing a harsh quip.

"Ugh! Right now I just never want to see a man ever again!"

I hoped she would say that. "I know the feeling," I chuckled, "sometimes I just forget them completely."

"Oh, please teach me," she said with a little sarcasm, now calming down a bit.

"Just spend time with girls," I said with a bit of a kick.

"I spend enough time with them," she sighed.

"No, no, I mean spend time with them," I emphasized.

"Kim, what are you talking about?" she spat.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you've never thought about it."

Pam sat up and put on a bit of a scowl. "Don't tell me you're saying what I think you're fucking saying."

"Pam, don't be so closed-minded. Girls can be a lot of fun. They know what you like; they're more caring, gentle, soft. You can talk to them you can just be yourself. It's wonderful and I think you should try it."

She got off the bed and marched over to the window to get away from me. "I'm not a fucking faggot, that's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard! Get the fuck out, you fucking dykes sicken me."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but if you change your mind, there are plenty of girls out there," I said, reassuring her that I would always listen.

"Out!" she screamed, ready to throw something at me.

I left her room and found Trey, a semi-popular and hotheaded pretty boy. Also unable to recall my name, I knew he wouldn't be mentioning me. "Hey Trey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, why?" he said, immediately wanting to get back to partying.

"Pam's in her room saying some shit about you," I gossiped.

Without even asking what she had said (which wasn't anything anyway), he stormed upstairs to scream at her. I followed and stood in the hall until it was all over. Trey stormed out and I waited a minute before re-entering. Pam was in the fetal position, crying. I sat down next to her and held her, and she embraced me.

**********

Pam was the hardest part of the night. I'll admit, this being my first attempt, her part of phase one was based on little information and great assumptions. Lucky more me, though, it worked. So with her out of the way for phase one, I moved on to Fred. Unfortunately, I can't give you the details of how I accomplished it because I don't remember. Let me explain.

In spite of all the stories I had heard of punch bowls getting spiked, I didn't expect it to happen to me. Having been at the party for a few hours, I was getting thirsty. I grabbed a cup of juice and drank, only finding out that it was contaminated the next morning. My memory ends halfway through a conversation with Fred in which I did a very similar thing as with Pam. How did I know he would turn out gay? Psychology, that's why. Want to question it? Have fun.


Kim Lazenby's Resumé Ch. 02



I like to think of myself as a master of exploitation. Others will call me a bitch, a whore, or just plain evil. But my interference in the affairs of others is minimal; its victims further extend the problems I cause. Many solutions present themselves, but are neither explored nor realized. I feel no sympathy, and remain far from empathy. I only feel joy for every second of misery they experience. And the best part will always be the transition period; when they realize that the fun I gave them is becoming a great misfortune, and in some cases, a disaster. 

Chapter 02 - The Insatiable Sorority 

After graduation from high school, I continued my normal way of life sans the normal routine and plus a newfound and greatly exercised sexuality. My final summer was spent as my previous summers were: listening to new music and rarely leaving the house, especially now that part of my new routine included heavy masturbation. I spent the entire $500 that Lyle gave me for my work on my music collection: "Oh No" by OK Go, "Time to Pretend" by MGMT, and so on. Between albums I would think about one thing that led to something else which ultimately brought my mind to sex. Then came the orgasm.

Somehow, amidst every fingering, I never found my mind wandering to having sex myself. I always envisioned other people, never a man (or woman for that matter) pleasing me. I didn't find this strange until halfway through July when my business money had run dry. I found that I could multi-task: masturbate and listen to music at the same time, but only for albums I'd already heard. During that time, the realization had rammed into my mind that somehow I had formed a hypocrisy: I craved orgasm, yet I did not desire sex.

That's when I noticed the random pattern of my sessions and their inexplicable causes. Some women feel the need to masturbate when an attractive man teases at their sexuality and taunts their independence. Some women just masturbate when they feel the need to have sex. I, on the other hand, could feel the need anytime and anywhere without warning or cause. For example, after the revelation, I noticed that while I waited in line for the cash register at the grocery store, without any trigger, I felt the need to strip down and finger-fuck myself hard and fast. Then, when I was stuck in traffic, I actually did end up shoving a hand into my jeans and (admittedly) having one of the best orgasms of the summer.

It confused me to say the least. I felt no need for experimentation, no need for contact or reception. At last, I came to the conclusion that whether I wanted to or not, I would have to fuck someone to get it out of my system. I won't say that thought was my biggest mistake so far, but it most definitely makes the top ten list. This is the story of my second job; the only one so far that I've considered to be personal.

**********

It's true what they say, there's a time and a place for everything and it's called college. Just a few months before the end of school I received my acceptance letter to West Virginia University, a notorious party school where Delta Gamma was about to join the roster upon my arrival.

I, like many others, did not know what I wanted my major to be, and for the time being I didn't care. I'd get through my general ed classes and make my decision eventually, but my focus became my now incredibly undesirable virginity.

On move in day, I met several people I'd rarely speak to again, and one girl in particular that I'd come to know too well. As I stowed my boxes of CDs underneath my bed, in came Helena Bucciarelli, a petite and intelligent looking freckled, jet black brunette. She wore thick-framed black glasses and held her shoulder-length hair in a ponytail with a cute floral scrunchy. She wore cute and reasonable length - but still tight-fitting - jean shorts and a figure-revealing spaghetti strap tank top. She looked both comfortable with her body and intelligent. She wore little makeup, had no tattoos, and looked delicate enough to break with just a hug.

"Oh, you must be Kimberly," she said in earnest genial tone.

I almost corrected her by telling her to call me Kim, but something told me I'd benefit from a small change, so I let her have it. "Yeah, you're Helena, right?"

"That's right! Glad to finally meet you." Helena seemed too nice. I knew that she was either incredibly nervous to be in college or she was hyped up on coffee or espresso. When we finished moving in, she and I sat down and got to know each other.

She presented herself openly, "I'm going to get my teaching credential for math. I like it, but there's no way I'm going to apply it to the real world, haha! So I figured I'd just teach it. How about you?"

"I'm not totally sure, but I'll figure it out at some point," I said casually. 

"Are you going to pledge to any sororities?" she inquired. "I've been looking at a few but they're all pretty lame."

"I've never really been part of a group, but I guess I might check it out," I replied, shocked at my own open-minded attitude.

"Haha, maybe we could start our own sorority! Open a new chapter," she jokingly suggested.

"At least we'd know it would be a quality house," I added. She giggled a cute and memorable laugh, causing a contagious smile to spread across my face.

"Do you want to grab some lunch? I'm starving!" she proclaimed.

"Sure, let's go to Sbarro's," I suggested. She nodded and started to stand up. As she did, I noticed the lust color of her panties, just peaking over the edge of her shorts as she was partially bent over.

It was then, as we walked out of the room that I realized my ability to masturbate would be greatly limited by her presence in a shared bedroom. Of course, the thing that brought this to mind was my sudden desire to shove my fingers deep into my pussy.

**********

I'm going to skip a lot of the fluff between meeting Helena and the day everything changed. Instead, here's a quick summation of what it was like:

No sex.

Masturbate while she's out.

Wonder why I don't have the courage to fuck.

Masturbate while she's out.

Go to class. Learn nothing.

Masturbate.

Eat.

Masturbate.

Sleep.

Masturbate.

Masturbate.

Masturbate.

**********

The day everything changed was the first time a class was canceled for the day. As I understood, it was a time when Helena had no class and stayed in to study. I thought I could ask her to get some lunch with me or maybe go see a new movie. I'd heard that Walk the Line was pretty good.

Walking into the dorm room, I found it empty and silent. This perplexed me. Helena, although bubbly and energetic, seemed too concerned with her education for much socializing. I brushed it off as an errand she had to run or maybe she went to get food on her own. 

As usual, I found this to be a wonderful time to masturbate. I pulled out my CD of Octavarium by Dream Theater (admittedly an odd choice for masturbation, but as I said, I was a rocker girl) and pressed play, undressing myself to the electronic intro to the masterful progressive rock album. Looking back, it's almost funny that the song playing was "The Root of all Evil".

This was the only time I truly felt feminine. I could feel sensual as I caressed the curves of my own body and smelled the eroticism of my sex. I'd learned to be quieter at home so as not to alert my parents, but under cover of music I could allow myself a little leeway. Now, away from home, I could let my moans echo through the room. Fortunately, the sounds never passed through the walls.

I did my usual thing: rubbing my clit and fingering my hole as I pinched a nipple and massaged a supple, heaving breast. As narcissistic as it is, I could have sex with myself feeling that horny. 

Then came the quiet transition between songs. Almost nine minutes and I still hadn't orgasmed. Unusual. I looked around the room for some sort of inspiration, and what I found was a pair of Helena's panties lying on the floor. It was the first fantasizing I'd experienced, imagining her petite and tight body undressing slowly and lightly feeling her own pale and freckled skin. That did it for me.

I came down from the familiar yet unsatisfying euphoria, my sheets once again doused by a small pool of my fluids. As I dressed once again, I looked back at the pile of Helena's clothes. Then it hit me: she was far too organized to just leave her clothes on the floor. Yet in the past week, there had been a growing pile. Her hamper sat on her side of the room, unfilled and untouched.

There was a camera hidden within the pile, pointed directly at my bed. I felt two things: foremost a sense of rage that I was being spied on, but deeper within a sense of eroticism and flattery.

Helena arrived back in the dorm not too long after.

"Oh, hey Kim! Don't you have a class?" she asked.

I replied with a subtle and cold rage, "It was canceled."

"What a relief," she said, "I love when that happens. Do you want to go grab some-"

"You've been spying on me," I interrupted.

She hesitated, possibly trying to think of a lie before she gave in. "You found the camera I'm guessing."

"Yeah. What's the deal?"

"It was just an experiment for my sexual psychology class," she lied.

"You're here for a teaching credential," I fired back.

She knew I'd gotten the best of her before she even walked through the door.

"You masturbate a lot," she said.

"Yeah, I do."

She looked down shamefully for a few moments, before she looked up at me with an undeterminable expression and said, "You really need to get fucked."

I had no response. Her motives were extremely unclear to me, and I felt that asking would only produce a lie. I kept silent, and then she blurted out the next six months of my life.

"Kim, I've been thinking about starting up a sorority like we talked about on move in day. I found out there's no Delta Gamma chapter here, and I've been thinking... I want to start it up with you. I think we can find plenty of other girls just like us who want exactly what we want."

I gave a quizzical look, one eyebrow cocked, arms crossed, and spat, "And what, pray tell, is it that we want?"

"Kim, I want to start up the sluttiest sorority the world has ever seen."

**********

Let's skip ahead again. Basically, I agreed and she laid out the plan for me, and step by step we made our way through the process until it came time to recruit other girls. By word of mouth, it was spread around the women's dorms that we were going to start up a sorority. Naturally, very party-savvy freshmen girls signed up. For the house that we procured, there was enough room for ten more girls.

I had no idea exactly what I had gotten into until that day. When Helena said the sluttiest sorority the world had ever seen, I greatly underestimated just how much of a pure blood whore she truly was. Of course, one can't blame me, she does look like the average prudish church girl.

There were twenty pledges come December. Helena set up a day for the first round of initiation challenges, or more accurately hazing. It would be up to us who got cut and who stayed. In five challenges, we would narrow it down to ten. Helena told me for this first challenge that she would take care of it all and I just had to listen to her orders and not say a word. Something about the way she spoke to me made me subordinate. I still can't explain it.

Hannah, Yazmine, Whitney, Ivana, Gina, Francesca, Julia, Jillian, Nicki, Lauren, Caitlyn, Bailey, Elena, Alexis, Valerie, Nessa, Taylor, Emily, Haleigh, and Eva. Half of them would not make it to the end. And so it began.

All twenty girls were lined up in the backyard of the sorority house. They all professed themselves as outgoing and socially flexible, but Helena had a good rigorous course to weed out the posers. 

Helena began. "Welcome sisters, to Delta Gamma. As you've heard, we're going to be the sluttiest, skankiest, and proudest sorority ever. We will get to know each other, party hard, and most importantly fuck like there's no tomorrow. Do you understand, bitches?"

They all looked at each other quickly, unsure of how to react, until finally they muttered nervously, "Yes, sister."

"Today we're going to find out how well we can all get along. So we'll go down the line and ask each of you which one of us two you want to fuck, me or Kim. You go first," she said, pointing to Yazmine.

Yazmine looked startled, her hands uncomfortably holding each other behind her back at the far end of the line. "I don't know," she responded, a snarky tone now accompanying her anxiety.

Helena stepped a little closer to her. "You don't know?"

"I'm not into girls," Yazmine replied.

Helena stepped directly to Yazmine, looking up at the tall girl yet still retaining her authoritative and intimidating demeanor. She placed her hands on her hips and slightly leaned forward to look up at Yazmine, and her ass stuck out just a little. Then I realized what would soon be happening.

Helena spoke softly, but not so soft that I couldn't hear, "If you want to be in this sorority, you'll be into girls, and girls will be into you. I'll get back to you, bitch." Yazmine tightened up, realizing she had suffered an early failure. At that moment she and the other girls seemed convinced that they had to be the best. "You," Helena spat at Hannah, the next girl in line, "who would you fuck, me or Kim?"

"You," Hannah replied. Helena went down the line.

"You," said Gina.

"Kim, " invited Nicki, a wink shot toward me thereafter.

"You," Bailey projected.

"Kim," Whitney bubbled. Two for me, I thought, am I really attractive?

"Kim," Francesca answered. There's three. This must be a coincidence.

"Kim," murmured Julia. Helena shot a glance at me, a seemingly emotionless one, but one that also displayed contempt; warning. "Helena," Alexis said brightly, snapping Helena back into the scene.

"Helena," Jillian said flatly, emotionless.

"Helena," Taylor added.

This was the first time that I got the feeling that Helena was doing this to gain some sort of supremacy above everyone. I couldn't quite grasp the entirety of it, and I wouldn't for some time. For now, I was interested to see what would happen next.

"Kim," Emily stated.

"Helena," Haleigh challenged.

"Kim," Nessa said.

"Kim," Yazmine solemnly decided.

"Helena," Elena droned.

"Kim," Ivana tried.

"Helena," Lauren said with some uncertainty.

"Helena," Eva told us.

"Kim," Caitlyn mumbled.

"Both!" boomed Valerie. Everyone looked to her, a sultry look plastered on her face. Had she chosen me, the score would have been ten for each of us, but Valerie gave it a technicality that put Helena one ahead of me. She smiled at me, having defeated me in a contest never declared.

"This is the kind of girl you should all be. Lauren," she picked, "are you a slut?"

Lauren gave a familiar look of fright and anxiety. "No..." she said.

"Lauren, do you want to be a Delta Gamma sister?"

"Yes..."

"Then you're a slut. Alright bitches, line up. Girls who want to fuck me over here, girls who want to fuck Kim over there. Valerie, you come up here with us."

Helena then walked down each line asking questions about Delta Gamma history while Valerie and I stood and waited, neither of us knowing what would come next. I phased out while I subtly started checking out the girls. I must admit that after hearing the girls pick one of us to fuck, I felt myself extremely attracted to my line. 

Finally Helena came back to the front, never having asked Valerie a question. I believe she went to each girl two or three times, just chock full of questions. 

"This was the easy day, girls. Now Yazmine, Lauren, get the fuck out, this sorority is not for you." The two marched out, frustrated and letting go of their anxiety. "Tomorrow we start the first real challenge. If you want to stay in this sorority, you'd better be more like Valerie. Now go home, whores."

They all vacated the premises, feeling demeaned. Helena turned to me, sighing in relief. She shrugged her shoulders and went inside to the house where she and I were still in the process of moving in. The house was pleasantly large: seven rooms, four upstairs and three downstairs. The living room would fit three couches and a few chairs, and a television would fit nicely on the wall. The kitchen had all the things it needed, and the refrigerator that the school gave us was brand new. The dining room would certainly fit the long dinner table that Helena told me her parents would buy for us if we each chipped in some money. The laundry room, the closet, four bathrooms, and a sound system that went throughout the house. Helena told me the house once belonged to an alumni of the college who used it for vacations, although I find the story very suspicious.

I sat on the balcony facing the sunset as I listened to music on my mp3 player - Led Zeppelin IV to be precise. I felt at ease, and like I would soon find myself in utter relaxation. Closing my eyes, I realized Helena's manipulation. She recorded me masturbating, convinced me to become a super-slut for the sake of starting a sorority, and expected me to follow her lead throughout the whole thing. I only felt calmer.

I started touching myself right there, not caring who walked by on the street. Helena must have heard my moans, because she came out onto the balcony as well.

"Getting into character, I see," she joked.

I didn't stop working. "Yeah... might as well get used to it."

"Well that's good. Because there will be many orgasms in this house," she said matter-of-fact.

I began moaning, feeling the wetness between my legs intensify at the sound of her voice.

"Any time one of us wants, we can get a mind blowing orgasm from someone in the house. Whoever we'd like. Guys will be lining up around the block on the off chance we want one," she described, obviously trying to tease me.

"Every day will be a good one," she murmured, "because you'll get fucked every day."

That was all I needed to hear. I came into my jeans, my hand gripping my right breast through my shirt and bra tightly. As I came down from the orgasm, Helena leaned very close to me. "Tomorrow, I might need to use you for a demonstration. I hope you put your all into it," she told me before re-entering the house and going to her room.

I lost the part of me I needed the most that moment. This tiny, sexy girl had reduced me from an independent rocker to a sex slave without even touching me. I hate to admit it, but all I wanted to do was please her. I told myself I'd do anything she wanted for the demonstration.

**********

The remaining girls showed up to the house. Helena ordered them to line up in the empty dining room like they did yesterday; those who picked her on one side and those who picked me on the other. Valerie once again got to stay up front with the two of us for her good behavior the day before.

"Two more girls will be eliminated today. One of them will be gone in the next two minutes." They resumed their nervous looks from the day before. "Everyone strip," she commanded.

Valerie was on the job quickly, excitedly removing one article of clothing at a time with a smile of pleasant anticipation on her face. She wore no bra, once again impressing Helena. 

The other girls got out of their clothes just nicely, except for Gina. Without even a word from Helena, she escorted herself out. The message had been made very clear to her.

"This is going to be very simple," Helena said. "There is a girl directly across from you. If you live with us in this house, you'll need to be comfortable with everyone else. So walk to whoever is in front of you and start making out."

By now the girls started getting the idea that they would have to listen to orders, so not one of them showed any physical hesitation in approaching her partner. Hannah, a gorgeous, tall and wiry blonde pressed her lips against Nicki's, the olive Italian of the group. Bailey, a frail looking thing, matched herself up with Whitney, who had the same malnourished body typed. The smooth looking Alexis pulled the plump but healthy looking Francesca to her. Jillian, the pale and bitchy looking girl let Julia (who I personally think looks like Emma Stone, but only in retrospect) come to her before the kissing commenced. Taylor came to Nessa, the confident looking Indian girl born in California. Elena and Emily formed up evenly as their lips touched. Haleigh came under attack by the vicious Russian minx Ivana, and at last the formidable Eva took upon the challenge of Caitlyn.




Kim Lazenby's Resumé Ch. 02



Some of the pairs lightly kissed while others practiced light make out sessions. Valerie bit her lip, looking as though she wished to join one of the pairs. It seemed that she was especially impressed with Eva and Caitlyn, who held each other intimately as they kissed. Helena had her eyes on Jillian and Julia; although Jillian seemed apathetic, she zealously returned Julia's open-mouthed kisses, but no sign of tongue came through. I personally found myself unable to take my eyes off of Hannah and Nicki. Hannah was very tall, and her breasts were not very large, but something about her figure made me wet, and the fullness of Nicki's breasts accompanied by her luscious legs only added on to the flow.

"Come on bitches, show me what you've really got!" Helena yelled. The girls each put more force into their kissing, none truly getting into the moment like we'd wished. Valerie watched on, subtly caressing her labia and allowing her nipples to grow erect.

The weak-willed Truth-or-Dare type kissing came to an end five minutes later when Helena became fed up with the lack of effort and I had finally uttered the first words the girls heard from me: "Is that it?"

Helena liked my initiative and decided to take some of her own in a way that would (for lack of a better term) seal the deal of my subordination to her.

"Kim's right, you bitches don't know how to treat each other. Valerie, go stick your tongue down Caitlyn's throat," Helena ordered. Valerie nearly ran across the room to Caitlyn and grabbed the back of her neck, swiftly engaging in a heavy make out session that left all the other girls inspired, but unmotivated. Caitlyn did not return the favor in full recompense, and there began my personal initiation.

Helena stopped Valerie from her attack and addressed the pledges as well as me, giving a wink to suggest that her words from the night before would now come into play. "That's it, you all need to learn a lesson. Kim and I will show you what it means to be comfortable with your sorority sisters."

She took a step towards me, leaning up slightly and gently planting her lips on mine in extreme intimacy and seduction. I felt everything in that one kiss: lust, greed, love, passion, happiness, jealousy, anger, but most of all I desired more. The kiss lasted for only a few seconds, and then Helena's sweet, intoxicating, addictive lips left mine. It was my first kiss.

She pulled away from me to make sure I would comply with her plan. After a look into her smoldering eyes, taking in the passion and subtle romantic undertones of the moment, I nodded, and forcefully pulled her to me and kissed her furiously and frantically, attaching my right hand to her small but proportional ass, grabbing a handful of her pitch hair with my left hand, and feeling the desire and arousal of every masturbation session in the last six months. 

I hardly noticed when Helena started unbuttoning my baby blue shirt. I was too busy enjoying the feeling of her leg wrapped around mine as she nearly jumped onto me. She opened my shirt completely and reached around to start unhooking my bra as I zealously bit her lip. I heard a moan escape her throat as I pulled her against me in just the right way that my thigh rubbed against her crotch through the thin layer of her leggings. 

My shirt came off so that my bra could follow, and soon I was topless as seventeen naked girls watched me swap saliva with an Italian goddess. When our tongues met, we had begun to sink to the floor, Helena making sure that I laid on my back. She laid on top of me, pinching my nipples as our tongues flicked past each other. I put both of my hands to her playful ass, kneading it as I saw fit. 

At last, Helena broke the kissing streak to become more acquainted with the rest of my body. I finally felt perfectly feminine as she kissed down my neck, across my collarbone, and to my breasts, where she massaged and kissed generously. I opened my eyes to see all the girls frozen in stare with excitement and awe.

"Don't just stand there, bitches, follow our lead," I ordered, giving the illusion that Helena wasn't the only one calling the shots. I moaned freely, and noticed that Valerie had pinned Caitlyn to the wall. That was enough to put the prude into her place and get her to react the way we wanted. One way or another, each pair succeeded at engaging in legitimate lesbian love.

Eva simply stood up against the wall, no partner to her, and began masturbating at the sight of eighteen girls vigorously molesting each other. Helena became so occupied with my breasts that I had to remind her of the task at hand with a tap to her head. She smiled, giggled, and stood up with me to the sight of each pair of girls on the floor; some grinding on each other, some kissing, and some feeling every inch of each other.

Helena reluctantly brought the activity to an end. "That's good. Now it's time for the real challenge for today. That's right bitches, that was just the warm up. We wanted to give you a fair chance, that's all. We're nice that way. Get back into your lines. Valerie, for now just stand in Kim's line."

Helena began undressing herself completely. I took the hint and unzipped my jeans, removing my white cotton panties (now thoroughly soaked) with them in a swift motion. For the first time, I stood completely exposed to people. That fact did not strike me until later that day, for I was too occupied in watching Helena teasingly remove each article of clothing. Perhaps it was my imagination, but it looked like the world's most subtle striptease.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from her Greek-like figure: perky breasts topped off with small and erect pink nipples, a perfectly even skin tone unmarked by tan-lines, an alluring scent coming from her natural being, and not a single hair anywhere but her head. So small, yet so remarkably full, I thought. 

I didn't even snap out of my trance until after Helena gave her next command. "Kim and I are like your big sisters, and you have to treat us extra special, so she and I will decide who leaves based on who licks pussy the best. Kim?" 

At last, I stopped staring at her to face Whitney, the weak looking mini-girl. I didn't want to look like I had no control over the situation, so I gave her a sultry look and returned to the floor, leaning against the back wall, and spreading my legs wide for her. I became conscious of my pubic hair, and decided that I would shave it to be more like Helena.

"What are you waiting for?" I spat at Whitney. 

"You're all going to be licking both our pussies for a minute," Helena instructed. "So let's get started."

I didn't know how I'd keep track of a minute, so I just left it to Helena. I watched the equally frail Bailey kneel before Helena, preparing for cunnilingus simultaneously with Whitney. The second I felt the well-salivated pressure jolt my body through my sex, I entered heaven. Whitney became the first person to touch me, and I told myself to never forget it. Now I wish I'd forgotten completely, but amnesia had not blessed me as of yet.

I moaned liberally, but Helena seemed unimpressed with the oral sex she was receiving from Bailey. I thought perhaps that it was a mistake, but behind that thought was a hidden realization that she knew exactly what was good. I fell in love with Whitney's tongue, but I anticipated better work. 

I was right; everyone was better than Whitney. Nicki had a long tongue that could just barely penetrate my hole, Francesca left no centimeter of my labia untouched, Julia put the perfect amount of pressure into it, Emily lapped my juices with incredible speed, Nessa hummed on my vagina eliciting hard moans from me, Ivana successfully revealed my clitoris, and Caitlyn kept a finger inside of me while she played with my clit.

It was hard to tell what Helena was thinking, but occasionally I would catch her gasping or grabbing her girls' hair, curling her toes. It wasn't long before I found out what had impressed her.

Hannah had the insight to twist her finger inside of me while her tongue circled my clit, teasing it. Bailey did not impress, as I expected. No better than Whitney. Alexis, however, looked so natural on my pussy, and her sheer beauty made the experience extremely erotic. Jillian, who I believed to be too apathetic for any great effort, surprised me with a level of sluttiness I couldn't have imagined. Not only did she lick and finger me, she liked dirty talking. Something we did set her off, because she started spouting her true feelings: "You taste so good, sister. I love your pussy..."

The stout Taylor was a step down from Jillian, but I could tell she was no stranger to pussylicking. Haleigh did not impress either. I guessed it was her first time. The supermodel, Elena, made all her movements gracefully as if she were under close watch by judges. Eva made a similar impression - exaggerated, desperate.

The real stand out was Valerie, as expected. I don't know what it was - by the time she reached me I thought I'd seen it all. But when her glorious smile faded beneath my vulva, I felt more pleasure than I myself or any of the girls gave me. She held my thighs, buried her face into me, and struck me with a great surprise - my first real orgasm.

I thought I'd given myself a real orgasm from masturbating, but feeling this remarkable, astounding, literally breathtaking tremor consume my mind, I knew this was the first one. As much as I've changed since then, I will never forget that first orgasm, nor will I wish to, albeit reluctantly.

Her minute was up. All the girls had given their performances. Helena and I exchanged a few words, my mind hardly focused. Even so, it was just enough to make our decision. 

"Some of you are naturals at pussylicking. That's a good sign of true sluttiness. Some of you still need some practice. But one of you is beyond our help. Whitney, get the fuck out."

She nearly let a tear leak out of her eye. It was clear that she had tried her best, but the fact of the matter was that she was no slut. I felt less sorry for her than I did for the unfortunate three before her. She was so embarrassed that she left behind her panties.

"Three more challenges left," Helena announced. "Now that I know who's a real slut, I'll be addressing all of you as sluts instead of bitches. Call it a promotion. You have two more challenges today. That means four of you sluts will be out of here. So if you want to stay you'd better step it up. Understood, sluts?"

"Yes, sister," they mumbled.

"What was that?" I yelled at them.

"Yes, sisters!" They chirped, remembering their new roles.

Helena once again smiled at my initiative. "Good. Now each of you go find a good cock to bring back here. You have one hour."

They started getting dressed when I instructed, "Leave your underwear."

One by one they all left the house, only Helena and I remaining. She did not get dressed, so I followed her lead. We walked upstairs together and to her bedroom where we laid on the bed.

"That was something," Helena said, returning to her kind, bubbly personality. "You're not bad at this, Kim."

"I'm just following your lead," I humbly replied.

She moved on. "That Valerie is truly a slut. We'll have fun with her."

"What are you going to have the girls do when they get back?" I asked.

"Suck cock. What else?"

"I don't know."

"We might have to do it a bit ourselves."

"I'm ready for anything," I said with wanton exasperation.

We laid there in her bed, completely naked, never once consideration to combine our lust into a passionate lesbian display once again. Instead, she slid her hand across the sheets to grab mine. My heart fluttered.

**********

We eventually got dressed just in time for the first girl - Valerie, of course - to walk through the door with a muscleman. All the girls arrived within ten minutes after Valerie. There were still fifteen to spare.

"Well done, ladies. You all grabbed a guy well before time was up. Hopefully you didn't play too desperately," she added, trying not to give away any signs of compassion. "Do you know what you're here for, guys?"

None of them knew the answer. They replied with blank stares, shrugs, and not a single guess. A few of them smiled, likely thinking to themselves how they'd like to fuck any of the women in the room. I noticed one in particular, one that Valerie had procured. I would come to learn that his name was Mike. He spiked his black hair and wore a tight black shirt, accentuating his muscles. I guessed in the moment that he'd done some construction work to get the money for college. It turned out I was right, but I digress.

Helena walked down the line of boys and girls, avoiding eye contact with the sluts. "You're here to help me train these sluts. Here's how it's gonna go down. They get to stand perfectly still while you have your way with them. There's no point in putting them on their knees, they don't get to move. You just touch them however you'd like. Ready sluts? Begin."

I had a strong suspicion that she was officially making things up as she went along. She knew that she'd be sexually torturing these girls, of course, but how was a matter of mood. Improvisation. I thought it was incredibly inventive. It only made me more attracted to her.

The men were smiling all the while during her explanation. When she indicated that they could start their teasing, they all stood in amazement. They must have thought it was too good to be true. One man played the fool and went first. When it turned out that there was no catch, no prank in the workings, they all went forward.

Some of the girls were once again naked in a matter of seconds. Hannah stood - shaking slightly, her plump lips quivering - completely nude, her exposed bush of pubic hair breathing open air. The boy who had undressed her was frightening her by standing directly behind her. She didn't know what would come next, but when he started to massage her, the trepidation faded from her body language. He was going to ease her into it.

Some of the girls were just as lucky: Julia, Alexis, Taylor, Francesca, Nessa, Elena, Caitlyn, and Jillian. The rest had an array of treatment, all of which were rough.

Eva's man did not immediately undress her. He walked around her a few times, running his hand across her collarbone and her neck. He circled around her until she felt safe, and then struck like a panther in the night. His right arm hooked around her hips, keeping her back locked to his front. His left hand slapped onto her breast over her tight spaghetti strap shirt. His mouth dropped to her neck, and placed its lips onto her warm skin. She whimpered at the sudden stimulation, and looked afraid of her assailant. Helena did not look pleased.

Emily's man had an interesting way to get around Helena's instruction. He undressed her except for her panties, a neon blue design, and pulled out an average erection, nothing to write home about. She stayed perfectly still, her eyes forward and almost unblinking. The man hooked the side of her panties around his cock and rubbed it against her hips that way. Her hands were interlocked in front of her crotch, looking like they were almost twitching towards the hard on rubbing against her. 

Ivana's man only took off her shorts and panties, leaving a pathetic image of a girl missing bottoms. He stuck a middle finger in her mouth, forcing her to wet it, and slowly stuck it into her asshole as she winced with great pain, her legs trembling and tears streaming down her face.

Nicki was a different story than the rest. Her man took none of her clothes off, he just reached into her panties and fingered her as she leaned back onto him with eyes closed and euphoria escaping her throat in form of pleasurable moans. He had to hold both of her wrists in one hand to keep her from violating her limitations.

Haleigh had a nearly emotionless reaction. Her man practically tortured her breasts, pulling and tugging on her nipples, slapping her breasts, kneading them forcefully, and biting them until dark teeth marks marred her otherwise perfect and well-tanned skin. It looked like she could take pain. But did she take pleasure in pleasing? Subservience didn't appear to be her forte. 

Valerie, of course, did exactly what Helena wanted to see. She was the prodigal slut, after all. Mike gave her a soft treatment at first, assuring her that he wasn't all about himself. He let his hands slide across her body, not just in the erogenous areas, but also in more innocent places. The small of her back, her arms, even her cheeks. She smiled at his touch, for once a smile of contentedness instead of arousal. This went on until at last Valerie reverted to her normal self and gave a simple slutty giggle, indicating that Mike should get busy. He went through the motions of more intimate sex, slowly undressing her and giving her neck, her breasts, her thighs an oral act of appreciation. She sighed, she moaned, she smiled. Most importantly, when Mike stuck his tongue to her clit, she opened her eyes and looked directly to Helena. It must have had some effect, because Helena blushed ever so slightly for one fleeting moment.

The tragedy of the scene, however, was Bailey. So frail, so inexperienced, yet subject to the torment of an obviously emotionally-repressed rebel boy. He literally ripped her clothes off, leaving a ragged heap in front of her. His sex-drive was fed by the knowledge of fear in his partner, and he used Bailey's petite figure to his advantage. He scratched her, smacked her tits and ass, choked her momentarily. She panted and shook from what looked like shock, but was simply a breakdown. Even the adamant Helena had some heart, and stopped the test.

The men stepped back, and while some of the girls came down from their euphoria, Bailey and Ivana nearly collapsed in their shameful pain. Helena walked up to Bailey and gave her a very sweet kiss, not one of sarcasm, and not one to make a statement. She simply kissed her, and I felt the jealousy surge through me. "You can go," she murmured into her ear. Helena walked to Ivana and took her bottoms, giving them to Bailey. Valerie offered her shirt. Bailey was gone in a flash.

Ivana did not get the same treatment. Helena felt that she could have handled the treatment, so she was rudely told to leave, and did not get any spare clothes. She was forced to run across campus with her pussy exposed to the world. Luckily, she wasn't caught by any campus authority.

Helena started yet another explanation. "You two boys can go. Looks like you didn't get the right girls. As for the rest of you, congratulations, you get to stick around for the fourth test. Oh... I'm sorry, you two boys, come back. I almost forgot, we can still use you."

The two men came back inside, looking confused. I would have too if I hadn't gotten used to Helena's improvisational ways. I went through all the scenarios I could think of, and I was actually able to guess her plan. 

"You all get to fuck one of us lucky girls," Helena said. "So let's mix it up. Pick a new partner, boys. And yes, Kim and I count."

Valerie looked disappointed when Mike left her, especially when he came to me. But lucky for her, she got an equally talented male to replace him. The pairings were nothing I can remember except that Caitlyn got the sadistic bastard that scarred Bailey. 

In the moments when I was still observing the other girls, I noticed that Caitlyn had a knack for taking pain and loving it. In a matter of no time, the guy had his prick buried in her pussy, pulling on her hair and smacking her ass as he fucked her from behind. She moaned and begged for more, and I was amazed by her vigor. The other girls had a similar reaction to their partners, but some took a little time to even make a sound.

I don't remember anything about the other girls from that point. It became completely about me and Mike. It wasn't until he placed his hands on my shoulders that I realized exactly how turned on I was. Helena had said we would only be giving blowjobs, but now she'd decided to take it one step further by turning it into an orgy.




Kim Lazenby's Resumé Ch. 02



I couldn't have been more turned on.

I thought I'd at least have a moment to think about it, but I instantly wanted Mike to fuck me, and fuck me hard. Strange, in retrospect, considering I hadn't the slightest inkling of what it was like. But Mike kissed me softly, using a similar routine on me that he had used with Valerie. It lowered my defenses, allowed me to look deeper into him, feel less arousal and more passion. So to revive the lust, I held a finger up to Mike to tell him to wait, and walked over to Helena, who sat on top of her partner, her top already off and her hips grinding against his crotch.

"Got a moment?" I asked.

"What's up, sweetie?" 

I gave her no answer, I simply planted my lips onto hers and slipped my tongue into her mouth. She leaned back as my weight pressed her in that direction, and our two men gazed in amazement. Helena put a hand on my breast as she continued grinding against her partner, and the kiss was complete. 

I returned to Mike and silently unzipped his fly. Perhaps he thought I meant to give him a standard blowjob, but I simply meant to try a little teasing. Piece by piece I removed his clothing until his muscular form stood perfectly exposed to my eyes, a figure one could make a mold of to mimic a Greek statue. He even had the decency to wax himself - completely. 

When finally he confidently stood bare before me, I tapped into my inner slut and lowered him to the ground, initiating my first - and unfortunately not my last - striptease. I'd gathered a great appreciation for my figure. No, I was no supermodel, but I loved myself regardless. So I swayed my hips and glided my hands across myself with ease, even enjoying it. Without taking any clothes off, I successfully livened Mike's penis from a flaccid three to an erect six and a half.

The sight of it made me delightfully nervous. Everyone knows that feeling of delicious heartburn, and I experienced it. The sensation sparked an impulse, and my top came off for the second time that day. My bra stayed with me but a few seconds longer, and my breasts dangled above Mike teasingly. 

I would have done a full striptease, but at that point, Helena moaned from a few feet away, "Mmm show him what you've got Kimmy," her partner's tongue buried into her crotch. "Fuck him."

I wanted to tease him more. Noticing his obvious stress at the torture of my teasing gave my arousal exponential growth. But nothing could drive me any better than Helena's commands and suggestions. She wanted to see me fuck this man, and I would not disappoint.

My natural figure revealed again, I lowered myself onto his stomach. I took one final moment to tease him by grinding my virgin lips against his stiffened abdominals, unnecessarily lubricating them. Luckily I was still warmed up from my sessions with the girls, and the juices were readily flowing.

Looking over at Helena, her man was on top of her, about to plunge into her as well. Helena gave me her devilish smile, biting her lip in the sexiest way imaginable. Once again my heart fluttered, and my attention went back to Mike.

I didn't look into his eyes and fall in love.

I didn't think about how my life would change. 

I didn't give it a second thought.

I just fucked him.

Of course it hurt, but somehow the pain was tolerable, even pleasurable. I got over it quickly. I lowered myself onto his thickness, feeling every inch of it spread me and stretch me in that bittersweet euphoria I would only experience once. "What's your name?" I asked him. Mike, he replied. "Okay, Mike. Let's fuck."

I started bucking wildly, moaning at the stinging massage of his rigid cock. I noticed my own ululations harmonizing with that of the girls around me, who were each in their own respect fucking or being fucked. I found it interesting that I was doing the fucking while Helena was being fucked. 

Why couldn't I let that go? Helena seemed to be such a powerful figure in this school, never letting anyone get over her. Now she lay on her back, letting a strange man have his way with her. I don't mean to ruin the subtlety for you, but as it turns out, it's good that I noticed.

On the bottom of my strokes of I could feel Mike's scrotum against the very top of my thighs, the lowest point of my ass. At the top of my strokes I could feel the head of his penis just barely staying inside the first inch of my sopping tunnel. There wasn't one thing I didn't like about sex, and I was only fucking him cowgirl at that point.

I had high hopes for Eva, but something she was doing was unsatisfactory, because - de repente - Helena shouted between moans, "Eva, you're no slut. Get out!" Eva tried to pick up the pace, but it was no use. She'd failed. When she was gone, her man looked highly disappointed until Helena spoke once again. "Okay sluts, who wants him?"

"ME ME ME!!" we all shouted. Helena shot a glance of approval at my excitement, but decided to give the guy to Nicki, who welcomed his pussy soaked cock into her mouth as she rode her other man.

I enjoyed the sight of all the other girls getting their snizzes stuffed, and somehow the feeling of my own tits bouncing in the air was its own kind of fun. Nevertheless, it was time to let Mike show me his talent pool. I dismounted, and assumed the position of doggystyle on the increasingly dirty hardwood floor (that's figuratively, not literally). 

He grabbed my hips and thrust himself into me, at last releasing the ravaging caveman within. It was a good strategy - let the girl feel safe before you treat her like the slut she is. I did enjoy it, but I'll never want it again today.

Doggystyle was a new sensation entirely, and I'll never have the patience to study the biology or whatever science to figure out why. I liked it even more than cowgirl, and I'll admit (I'm already admitting my most embarrassing story, why not just tell it all?) it's still my favorite position. This is where Mike got me screaming. I didn't know I was the type, but he'd unveiled it. 

Helena, getting fucked from behind as she laid on her side, smiled at me as I showed her and the remaining thirteen girls my most vulnerable state. Somehow her smile made the sex even better. 

That was it. That was when I realized it; while Mike fucked me like a dirty whore.

I was in love with Helena Bucciarelli.

While the skin of my knees became raw from the friction, Helena stopped her work momentarily. She noticed some of the men getting close, and gave her next order.

"Okay boys," she said, "time to cum in your slut's mouth."

She got on her knees and grabbed her man's cock, squeezing the cum out of him in less than ten seconds and swallowing every last drop. The girls around us did the same. I myself didn't have to touch Mike, he was ready. His cum jumped out onto my face, and more importantly onto my tongue. I didn't think anything could have made it taste any better, but I swallowed it regardless. It made me happy to see him pleased, so I swallowed it, and I could even have asked for more. It was just a nuisance, nothing more.

The rest of the girls twisted and jerked their man's cock until their cream spurted into their mouths, Nicki getting a double dose and looking ever so pleased with herself. Caitlyn, reddened from the rough treatment she received, mascara running down her face, continued sucking her man's cock even after his orgasm finished. All the girls seemed to have done a wonderful job.

Except for one.

"Haleigh, did you spit?" I asked.

"Ummm... yes," she nervously replied.

"You came this far, and now you decide to spit?" Helena chimed in.

"You're out," I said, taking some of the pleasure for myself. Helena gave an approving look up and down my body. I must have blushed. Haleigh left, and so did the men, feeling very satisfied with themselves. I never saw Mike again.

"That's enough for today. The final test will be tomorrow. There are no classes tomorrow, so you'll be spending the whole day here. Kim and I will not be participating, so you'll each be assigned to a room. Pray it's not temporary. This test is more like a trial run. You'll be acting exactly how you're expected to if we let you in. 

"The second you walk in the door, you will strip and leave all your clothes there. I know we don't have furniture yet, but by tomorrow there will be an armoire. Just one. Put your clothes in there and leave them. From 10:00 to 12:00 you'll have a little relaxation time that I hope you girls will use for warm up. If one of your fellow sluts asks for a pussy licking, you cannot say no. It doesn't matter how you feel or what your relationship is with that slut, you cannot say no.

"From 12:00 to 6:00 we will accept all gentleman callers. Fuck it, even any lesbo bitches that want your sweet slutty tang. Kim and I will be advertising, no names of course, but if someone who knows you comes in we won't be responsible. You will fuck just the way they want. Unless they say otherwise, you will always swallow. If you get cum on your tits, wipe it off with your finger and lick it. And for your sakes I hope you're all on the pill because we won't be keeping condoms in the house.

"6:00 to 8:00 is absolute resting period. We all get to relax, clean up, and get to know each other. No sexual activity, just talk. But that doesn't mean you can't kiss each other, sluts. Remember, you have to treat your sisters kindly. 

"At 8:00 you can resume sexual activity with each other, but we won't force anyone if you decide not to, because at 11:00 there will be a party. You can drink, you can smoke, whatever. Just make sure you whore it up like you'll never fuck again. 

"Yes, sluts, it's a lot. It will be a long day. If you don't think you can handle it, if you want to give up, you know where the door is. Anyone want out?"

No response.

"Who's a dirty fucking slut?"

"I am, sister!" they all chimed.

"Who loves cock?"

"I do, sister!" they all sang.

"Who loves pussy?"

"I do, sister!" they all chirped.

"Good. Get some rest." 

So that was Day Two. Twelve girls left, and all of them serious. The next elimination would be a tough one, I thought. But we would make it. 

**********

"What a rush!" Helena said as she flopped down onto the bed.

"That was... nice," I said, trying to hide my smile. She patted the bed for me to lay with her.

"I have to admit, Kim, I wasn't really sure if you had it in you," she said.

"I wasn't either. But I guess... you inspire me."

She giggled sweetly, an addictive sound. "I inspire you?"

"Yeah," I said, suddenly realizing how naked I was before her, not just literally - we did leave our clothes downstairs - but emotionally as well. I was afraid of making my newfound love for her an indisputable suspicion. I failed at keeping my cool.

"Yeah? What else?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" 

She giggled again, propping her head up with her hand. "What else do I do for you?"

I tried to brush it off with a less serious answer than I could have given. "Well you turn me the fuck on."

"Oh do I?" she asked knowingly. "Do tell."

I got caught up in the moment, forgetting that I was trying to hide my feelings, and indulged her inquiry. "I love how small you are. You've got cute freckles and your hair is this beautiful shining black that I can see the whole world reflected in. Your skin is smooth and you've got no tattoos and you're beautiful without makeup and..."

She looked deeply into my eyes. I gazed back into hers, trying to decipher what her look meant. I wanted so badly to kiss her, but the moment did not come. 

"You're mine, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes," I submitted.

**********

I didn't even show up to the house the next day. I spent the whole day studying - I was precariously behind in my classes. Elena and Francesca were eliminated, reportedly for walking out and accidentally pissing on a "gentleman caller". I'm not sure which girl did which act. 

I did show up to the party, however. My embarrassment of admitting to my feelings for Helena could only repel me from facing the music for so long. 

Like Helena had advertised, some furniture had arrived. A couch, a table, the armoire, and beds in every room. Nothing else. The backyard had been decorated with a festive Christmas layout. Red and green lights across the fence, red and green chairs, Santa figures on every table, it was nice. Helena was thorough, she always was. 

Was.

The last ten girls all lined up against the fence: Hannah, Nicki, Alexis, Jillian, Julia, Emily, Taylor, Nessa, Caitlyn and Valerie. They all looked flustered, satisfied, and somehow ready for more. Helena stood in front of them when I walked into the backyard. She noticed me, and welcomed me to her position. 

"So here we are," Helena said. "I've been at the helm this whole time. I think I'll let Kim take it from here."

The only reason I didn't immediately jump back into character was because I felt a sort of ignorance coming from Helena, like she simply forgot that I'd accidentally bared my soul to her. As a newly romanticized slut, I made up some excuse in my head and moved on.

"Congratulations, girls. You made it. You are now Delta Gamma sisters. You don't need to be afraid of us, we're your sisters, and we'll promise to treat you with respect, unless you ask us not to." They all giggled. "So get out of line, talk to us, get to know each other, for crying out loud, dance!"

That was what I needed, I thought. To let myself go in a new way, a platonic way. I'd never really danced at a party before - the only ones I'd ever really been to was the series of PG-SOFT parties from high school.

So I danced. 

The guys and girls came, blasted their shitty techno music, but I danced. I watched my new sorority sisters grind against random people to the beat of the poorly written music, and still I danced. I observed as they seduced new girls unassociated with any sorority and kissed them as a guy poured cheap beer over their shirts, but my rhythm never ceased. I felt a large erection protruding through some stranger's jeans in between the cheeks of my bottom, and still I danced, likely titillating whoever he was even more.

Caitlyn moved about the yard, her top pulled down around her stomach, exposing her small but enjoyable 32B's. Occasionally she would ask someone to slap her tits, and when they did she yelped and smiled, treating the momentary dominator with a sloppy kiss. Still I danced.

Hannah rode on top of a heavily intoxicated girl, miming the motion I saw her use when she fucked a guy cowgirl. A wetness made prevalent her thin shorts. Still I danced.

Alexis was engaged in a one girl wet T-shirt contest, using booze and liquor to hydrate her shirt and make it cling to her skin, hardening her perky pink nipples and teasing the crowd around her. Her black hair wetted by the alcoholic beverages, her pussy wetted only by herself. I danced on.

The ever-cold Jillian let a new spark drive her actions. Excitement and joy finally contorted her face into a smile as she happily shared the task of giving a handjob to a grad student still savvy to the party scene with a nervous looking freshman. She hadn't a drop of alcohol in her the whole night, and still she gave her services happily. I danced on.

Emily flirted with the ever-present camera man at every college party, occasionally flashing her milky tits and flipping her strawberry-blonde hair about the place. Everything she did was for the camera, including kissing me. I didn't stop dancing for her. 

Nessa, our Arabian princess, was leaning out the window of her assigned room, blatantly being fucked by a masked man wearing a turtleneck. Her moans came with each thrust, and echoed through the cold December air. As I looked up, I kept dancing.

Nicki and Taylor wrestled nude in a kiddie pool someone brought and filled with massage oil. Nicki would mount Taylor's stomach and start grinding her pussy, but then Taylor would get Nicki pinned and start finger fucking her. Once she pulled Nicki's frizzy, smoky-black hair, and then Nicki flipped Taylor onto her front, pulled her golden blonde hair, and smacked her plump ass, sending a small shockwave through her small frame. I cheered, wondered how they weren't freezing to death, but never did I cease dancing.

Julia, the pale pseudo-ginger (by which I mean an indiscernible cross between a brunette and a redhead), left quite an impression on the crowd. She never touched anyone there but herself, readily displaying her muff to the audience and stuffing it with her fingers, occasionally dirty talking with the closest person. "Go ahead, baby, look. I bet you like it." I did like it, but not enough to stop dancing.

Two girls were missing. I was indeed curious as to what they decided to do with their party time, so I danced my way into the house where miscellaneous pairings of people I'd never met copulated. I picked a greasy looking guy to help dance me up the stairs; some random step system I invented and immediately forgot. Dancing, dancing, dancing-

Valerie and Helena, that's who. They'd disappeared about an hour into the festivities. They both kneeled on all fours on Helena's bed, a twelve inch dildo penetrating both of their holes. Yes, their lustful display did excite me, but more than anything it sparked great jealousy. I stopped dancing at the sight of it. 

Helena saw me and spoke the first words she would come to regret. "Hey Kim, looks like Val wanted to fuck me instead."

It was a competition after all.

**********

Once again I made an excuse in my head. I was a fool in love, and excuses had to be made to uphold that lunacy. I still don't recall what I told myself, but I let it slide. I had to focus on adjusting to my new life of being a devoted slut and a studious pupil.

The first day of West Virginia's Delta Gamma chapter came, and all twelve of us had an individual armoire in the front room. That's where our clothes would stay. At least for the purposes of moving in, we were allowed to stay clothed temporarily. I brought in my hefty music collection, glad that I once again had space to fill shelves with CDs. A few posters found new homes yet again; Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, The Ramones, etc.

It felt good to be living in a house again, even though I was no longer sharing a room with the lovely Helena Bucciarelli. But she was right across the hall, and at any moment, she could knock on the door and plant a craving kiss on my waiting lips.

I wanted to start my life as a slut immediately, but by the time I finished unpacking, I had to leave for a class at noon. Julia was undressing in the front room, having finished her move as well. 

"Heading out?" she asked.

"Yeah, don't have too much fun without me," I said.

Julia walked toward me, still covered by her white cotton panties, and gave me a loving and familiar kiss. "I'll try. Have a great day."

I smiled to myself as I walked out. Helena's system looked promising. I didn't know a damn thing about Julia but the fact that it felt so comfortable to kiss her convinced me of the true sisterhood we could form with the layout. Maybe I wouldn't have a great relationship with all the girls, but Julia I knew I'd like.

The day went by horribly slowly. I wanted badly to get back to the house, but I also knew that I was under threat of expulsion if I didn't keep up my grades. I spent just a little time at the library doing my homework - it would be near impossible to get it done at the house. The final word went down on the page, and I nearly dashed out of the library. I felt so uncomfortable in my clothes, I needed nudity.

Then I ran into Sarah Wood. She was a beautiful blonde, and by beautiful I don't mean pretty or cute or mildly attractive - I mean she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen and have still ever seen to this day. She even defeated the beauty of Helena with a devastating and impassable strike. Her slender cheekbones, her seductive and soothing green eyes, it all intoxicated my loins. 




Kim Lazenby's Resumé



The next morning, Fred called me and thanked me for talking to him. Evidently I had broken through his diva exterior, and put him in touch with himself. All these kids really needed was some compassion. Unfortunately for them, it came from me.

**********

Day Two was Garry's party. He hadn't played any pranks the night before, so I assumed he was waiting for the opportune moment, and it wouldn't come at his own house. He did have some sense of extravagance, so my guess was that it would either be at the last party or the first day back at school, and considering his love for attention I suspected the former. After extra preliminary research on Saturday morning, I discovered that Garry was a semi-devoted Catholic.

Better yet, Olive and Ted had yet another argument the night before. So naturally, it was time to set up some trouble between those two. It was perhaps the easiest part of the whole plan. All I had to do was... excuse the anachronistic reference... perform a little inception.

Arriving at Garry's house, I noticed that most people were in the backyard, enjoying Garry's pool. Out there having the most fun was Ted, who was ignoring Olive's pouting in a lawn chair by the fence. She sat next to a thick-trunked tree, on the side closer to the fence. I positioned myself on the side opposite her, and pretended to be on the phone. The general simple-minded nature of the group made this part almost painfully easy. For a moment I thought it wouldn't work. I should not have doubted Olive's dim-wittedness.

"No, he's actually a really nice guy if you get on his good side. He's really caring, and he never disagrees with me. Not to mention he's really good in bed. I know, who would have thought that Garry Middleton would be such a good listener? But I don't think he's the right guy for me. Besides, I think he's really in love with someone else. Probably one of those girls he's always hanging out with. No, I don't think it's Pam. Well anyway; I'm at the party right now so I'll call you after, okay? Bye."

I wonder to whom I was speaking. Whoever it was, Olive fell for it.

As part two, I started a little rumor to all the girls. "Did you know that Ted has herpes?" The women avoided him. And since it was only the concern of women he had the potential to sleep with, the rumor mostly touched the other women at the party. Meanwhile, in a separate conversation, I started a rumor for the guys. "Did you know that Ted slept with three girls at last night's party?" Men surrounded Ted for the rest of the evening.

It seems like a very simple and ineffective way of carrying out my plot, but I must reiterate, this was my first job. Setting that fact aside, one must admit that high school level teenagers are the easiest people to manipulate in the world.

**********

I made sure not to drink anything I didn't bring myself that night. So this time I woke up the next morning with total sobriety and fully intact memory. But the remnants of the first party still wiggled their way back into my mind by total surprise. I woke up to find a text from Fred: "Hit it off with Ted last night." That's when I knew I had great potential. 

Putting those two together was not part of my original plan, but as they say in the film industry, when shooting goes awry, improvise. It was time for Sarah's party. I knew I had to finish up Phase One at this party or get off track and possibly only see semi-success or worse; failure.

I started with the star of the party, Sarah. It was very hard to get her attention, as she was busy taking dares. I watched for a few minutes as she shot gunned beers, flashed the crowd, and even peed on someone's car keys. I'm not sure whose. 

I won't lie, I had no idea how to take her down with the rest of the group. Sarah was always the one I slightly envied. Although I would certainly never go to the extremes that she dared to attack, I admired her carefree attitude at times. At that age, I did wish I had the courage to show the world my body and flaunt my sexuality. But my courage only extended to hiding in the shrouds of my anti-social world. I did not know that when all of this ended, I would change forever.

But I digress. To find the solution, I made my way up to her bedroom where some couples whose names I don't remember were having sex. I ignored them, and they ignored me. I searched the room through their resonating moans and dirty talk in pursuit of the ever-elusive diary. Eventually, I found the brown leather book that held Ms. Chula's darkest secrets.

Hers was not the average diary. In it I found lists of party tricks, dog breeds, and existing alternative soda flavors (Vanilla Coke and the like). It took some great digging and concentration beyond the orgasmic ululations of the two lovers present to find the juice that I needed. As it turns out, Sarah was a (closet?) bisexual. Not only that, but she was madly in love with none other than mis Pam Schoen. My first thought was one of relief. In my original plan, I was going to be the one to seduce Pam. Now I didn't have to.

My second thought was how to use that against Sarah to destroy her completely. The answer came quickly: a broken heart.

I returned to the party to find that Sarah was taking a break from her circus act. She had collected fifty dollars from taking dares. As she walked away from the crowd, I put on my most gossipy face. "Oh, my, gosh, Sarah!" 

"Yeah, yeah I know I'm a whore," she sighed.

"No, it's not that. Come to the garage, I have to tell you something!" I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the empty garage. She smelled like piss, beer, and jello.

"You will not believe what I just heard!" I exclaimed with (and I don't mean to toot my own horn) a tasteful performance.

"Tell me," she shrugged.

I decided to give her the benefit of feeding her my name like I did with Pam, only this time I used a fake name so that it never got through that I was manipulating them. "I normally tell myself, 'Lexi, you have to mind your own business and not gossip," but this time I just couldn't help it."

"Spit it out already."

"Pam totally has a crush on you." She almost showed excitement, but quickly changed to shock. "I know, right? Who knew she was gay? Well, I guess she's bi, but still, that's got to be weird to have a girl like you, right?"

She paused for a second and then nodded slowly. "Yeah, weird."

"Now I know it's not my business, but maybe you should talk to her about it, you know? Let her down easy. But not tonight, she's already in a bad mood."

"Um... when do you think would be a good time?"

"I'm not sure. I'll let you know, though. Definitely before break is over. But don't do it unless I tell you, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks for telling me Lexi."

With that we both went back inside. Now, earlier I mentioned that Garry had a strong relationship with his car. I forgot to explain that it was in a different sense than Ted's respective one. Garry loved his car more than anything, but he knew nothing about it. He knew that the acceleration was nice, he knew that it was sleek and needed good care, but he hadn't the slightest idea of how it worked. It was unconditional love. I say this because it actually holds some relevance.

I was just about to go to Garry and give him some pushes towards Olive, but when I found him, she was doing it for me. All I needed to hear from her was, "It's nice to have a friend who doesn't spout random shit about pistons and engines. We should spend more time together; you know, without the others."

It almost seemed too good to be true. The shear coincidences that allowed me to complete my dastardly scheme made the whole ordeal very surreal to me. It almost seemed like a mystery novel, but from the killer's perspective. But that wouldn't come for a few years.

Sarah's party got less exciting after I delivered the news to her. She was subtly clinging to Pam, who was becoming a little more tactile with any girl she spoke to. Fred and Ted started to actually get to know each other (But I will never know how Fred got him to open up in the first place. Maybe it was my doing, maybe not.), and Olive flirted with the relentlessly horny Garry all night. Phase One had been completed.

**********

Phase Two

Like everybody else, I took Monday off. I spent that time gathering my thoughts and catching up on my music. As I became more cunning, I found that my punk/indie taste had slightly faded. I became more attracted to the enigmatic style of progressive rock. The classics came first, but I went down to the record store and grabbed several albums to listen to whilst I finished my homework assigned specifically to make Spring Break less fun. 

By Tuesday, Olive felt much better and was ready to host a party at her house. Phase Two would be the easiest part of the whole thing, especially considering Pam's increasingly good mood. I was beginning to suspect that she truly was a lesbian.

Olive and Ted had not officially broken up, but he hadn't noticed her greater attention to his best friend. He was too busy talking to Fred. Whenever Ted brought up cars, Fred would cut him off with "Greased Lightning" because he didn't really want to hear about it, but didn't want to be TOO rude.

Olive and Garry were playing bartender (yes, she had a built in bar) when Pam found me amongst the partygoers. 

"Kim! How are you?"

"I'm not bad, how about you?"

"I'm wonderful, hey do you think we could go talk somewhere?"

"Sure, what do you want to talk about?" I asked, suspecting what it would be but not knowing for sure.

"You'll see. Hey Olive! I'm going to use your room for a couple minutes." But Olive was too busy looking at Garry's muscles while his attention was elsewhere.

Pam escorted me through the house until we reached the coveted bedroom of Olive Pentar. We both sat down on the bed and she gave a truly sincere expression. "I want to apologize for the way I treated you on Friday. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"It's okay, I'm used to it."

"But you shouldn't be. I mean if anyone ever yells at me for that..." she trailed off, realizing what she was insinuating. I followed her trail.

"Pam? Did you take my advice?" I smiled and nudged her.

"No! I'm not a dyke! I mean... sorry. I'm not a lesbian. I've just been spending more time with girls the past couple of days and I feel a lot better about myself and I just want to thank you for pointing me in that direction."

This was the first and last time I would feel sympathy for any of the six. In that moment I knew that nobody had shown them understanding like I had. I knew them better than they knew themselves, and it was by complete coincidence that I figured out who they truly were. In that brief moment, I almost considered kissing Pam just to get it over with and release her inner homosexuality. Just for her benefit. Then I stopped looking at her eyes and saw the rest of her. A make-up layered husk where a heart once resided. A being so dependent on the rest of the world's eyes that she traded her own for a spotlight on her mask.

I gave her an innocent hug, and we returned downstairs. On the way I said to her, "That special someone could be anyone you know. Anyone." She heard me, but left without response.

I found Ted, who was finally away from Fred. As the only part of Phase Two, I was sure that I would need both that night and the following to convince him of the plan: a Key Party.

It wouldn't be the traditional kind; we would have to alter the rules a bit to fit our capabilities at his house. But the idea was the whole thing would end with a big bang, literally. And why not? Get everyone's sexual frustration out before finishing off the school year. Everyone at these parties was eighteen, so why not just fuck the shit out of whoever happens to be in the room with you? At first, he didn't agree.

"Ted, isn't there someone who you would just love to get a blowjob from?" Somehow he seemed confused by the idea so I listed a few things. "Meg, Sarah, Emma, me?" His eyebrows perked up.

"But what if I get some ugly bitch I don't want to bang?"

"Think of it like this: by the time we get to your house, the only people energized enough to still come to the parties are the cool, attractive, popular ones. There won't be any Brookes at your party. Look, there are less people at this one already. The cool to lame ratio is becoming heavier on your side."

"Will anyone else be into it?"

"Think about it. Announce it Friday and see how it goes."

"Fine," he said, still very skeptical.

Thursday night came and went. But during it, I got a text from Fred: "Ted says okay, whatever that means."

Ted announced it at Fred's party, which had the lowest attendance (he themed it Broadway). A great cheer arose.

**********

Phase Three

Ted's house was quite large. There were enough rooms for fourteen couples (if we used the four garages and the ten rooms, which we did), and as master planner of the whole thing, I arranged it. The party began with more people than would be participating. At first, I thought that Sarah would be too love-struck to participate, but her evil popular side dictated that she play along. At this point, Ted and Olive were officially on a break, so they had no guilt. Fred, now having told me in a sober state that he is gay, was the most unexcited of the group. Ted seemed very indifferent about it. The most excited was Garry, who must also have had his prank ready to go. Pam had actually loosened up, and even though the idea was that she would be with a guy, it didn't seem to bother her. I soon found out why.

I got bribes from a few. Garry asked me for Olive, and Fred asked for Ted. It's not like I wouldn't have anyway, but it was nice to get some money out of it. I brought Sarah up to the drawing table individually to tell her that I would be putting her and Pam in a room so they could talk. Suddenly everyone was happy.

Around midnight, I took everyone down to the cellar, where the wine bottles were being ransacked. It was all part of the plan. An hour later, everyone was plenty drunk. Everyone.

I put names into the jar and drew them out one by one, assigning people their rooms in random orders, and in secrecy. Nobody else would get to know who was sleeping with whom. Not that they would remember. 

During that hour when everyone was getting hammered in the cellar, I made my way to Ted's garage and placed a camera in there. Then I went to the master bedroom and placed one there. Finally, to the maid's room; a third camera there. 

Ted had requested that I put him in his garage, so I did. Eventually, Fred's name was called and I sent him stumbling off to the garage. I placed Sarah and Pam in the master bedroom and Garry and Olive in the maid's room. Then it came down to the last name. I noticed there was only one more name in the bowl, and there needed to be two more. I sent whatshername off to fuck whatshisface and had the dilemma of having one room without a mate. Nobody would volunteer to go. 

Halfway up the stairs I remembered who was in that room – Lyle. He had snuck his way in when he was sure everyone would be too drunk to notice. I walked into the guest bedroom and he jumped to his feet.

"No way! I get to fuck you? What are the odds?" He nearly dropped his pants, but I stopped him.

"Don't get any quick ideas, Sonic. This is all part of the plan."

"Oh yeah, how is that going?"

"Well if I'm right, totally successful."

"Awesome! Thanks a lot uh..."

"Kim."

"Yeah, that," he said, "thanks a bunch."

"Now about the payment," I started. But he cut me off.

"Whoa, payment?"

I looked at him incredulously. "When I offered to do this, you asked me 'How much?' and I told you $500. I expect to be paid by Monday."

"Here's the thing about that: I'm not really getting anything out of this other than seeing those jerkfaces squirm. So the way I see it, you haven't so much provided a service for me as you have an inconvenience for them."

I looked at him like I was going to burst. I understood why nobody liked him, and in that moment I wanted an axe or a sword. "But..." he continued. "...I guess if you actually provide me a service I can give you $250 for that and a $250 tip for fucking with those bitches."

I understood what he meant immediately. Needless to say, I was not happy with the insinuation. "You can't be serious."

With the most disgusting look on his face, his forked tongue spat out, "If you want the money you've got to work for it."

"What do you think I've been doing?" I spat.

"So what's a little more? Besides, wouldn't it be fun?"

I am not opposed to being sexually active. But looking at Lyle and seeing his contemptible smirk ignited the closest thing to true hatred I'd felt up to that point. So I snapped as calmly as I could. "What might be more fun than that is setting this place on fire and ruining the whole plan. You get no satisfaction, and I go back to my normal life."

At first he just laughed. But another look into my eyes and he saw that I was truly crazy. The funny this is that I really would have. Anyone else and I may have considered just playing along with the whole Key Party thing, but not Lyle. I had planned on seducing Pam, and I was okay with that. But not Lyle.

His grin faded and he stumbled out of the room. When the door closed I smiled for three reasons. The first was that I enjoyed being feared. The second was that secretly, and even to myself, it was nice to be desired. Finally, I knew that around this house, the dirt I sought was being compiled on video. 

An hour and a half later I heard screams coming from the hallways. I'm still not sure how he pulled it off, but Garry managed to snag all the girls' clothes while they were having sex. Eleven naked girls ran through the house totally naked, screaming from embarrassment, tits bouncing around. I laughed along with Garry and Olive, who was still clothed, but looking ragged. I knew that the embarrassment of those unfortunate girls would never match that of PG-SOFT the next day.

**********

In the spring of 2005, a video website that will go unnamed was in its early independent days. The video regulation was not as strong, and not that many people were aware of it. Even so, I complied the three videos into one and posted it, then spread it around on Sunday, making it the headlining story in the gossip circles at Polk High.

The video opened with an empty room. In walked Garry, looking cocky and drunk. He sat on the bed for a few minutes, awaiting his partner for the evening. Time started to eat at his patience. He walked around the room, pretending to swing a baseball bat, jumping up and down in anxiety. He fell once from his intoxication.

While his back was turned, Olive tiptoed her way into the room. Garry was looking out the window at Ted's massive garden in the backyard. While he was occupied with this, Olive began to unbutton her shirt, a tight fitting baby blue fashion. Her purple cheetah print bra became exposed, confirming her small but perky breasts. She unzipped her jeans, and took them off somewhat clumsily, making enough noise for Garry to notice, and at last he turned around. He looked at her conqueringly smooth legs (which I personally thought were too thin), and swept his eyes up to her chest. Without a word, he charged her and planted his lips onto hers, simultaneously sending them both falling onto the bed. 

She immediately wrapped her legs around his torso, and he began to dry hump her. That was the sign that this would not be passionate or humdrum, but a purely hormonal romp.

It wasn't long before Ted had his shirt off, revealing his hairy chest. His mouth started to make its way down Olive's smooth skin, causing her to give a coy giggle, which only turned him on more. She stretched a little bit and smiled more as she reached her crotch, untouched for quite some time. She placed her hands on his head, pushing his mouth against her. 




Kim Lazenby's Resumé



Still not a single word had been said when he started to lick her, bringing the odor of alcohol to her nether regions. She kept her hands to his head, and began to grind herself against his tongue, clearly enjoying something she had never received before, and experiencing it from one with expertise in the act.

She gave slight arches in her back whenever his tongue ran over her clit, a small button hidden in a proportionally small canal. This went on for about two minutes, and without even using his hands (probably thanks to the alcohol), Olive had her first orgasm of the evening. She shivered and tightened her legs over Garry's back, the response of a mild orgasm.

She pulled on his hair to remove him from his work, and sat up in an attempt to unbutton his pants and return the oral favor. She successfully removed his penis, but didn't get a good look at it before he stopped her, shaking his head. He wanted no time wasted.

Of course I realized that the video evidence of Olive cheating on Ted would not be enough to take the two of them down. Thanks to my research, I was able to fit the two together to create their downfall perfectly. As I mentioned, Garry was a semi-devoted Catholic. He did not always exercise the values of his religion, but he did tend to exercise the restrictions, namely the ban on birth control. 

The women of the Pentar family had many children. Olive was the oldest of seven. So as part of my research, I confirmed that their fertility was much stronger than the average woman. To make sure that I could use that in my favor, I stole Olive's birth control pills while I was at her house party and replaced them with sugar pills. I would have told you earlier in the narrative, but I try not to be too obvious about my foreshadowing.

Put those two factors together and what do you get? Never mind, I digress.

Garry pushed the slurring Olive onto the well embellished bed and removed her panties. She closed her eyes, awaiting what would not only be her physical release, but mental as well. Had she been sober and well sexed at that point, she would have been thoroughly disappointed by Garry's underwhelming size. Lucky for him they were both smashed.

At first, he had trouble squeezing into her, but it wasn't long before he managed to gain entrance. He began fucking her strongly, albeit arrhythmically, and started enjoying the intoxicating sound of her encouraging, "Ooohh..."

Unable to keep a constant tempo, the headboard of the queen bed would hit the wall at random intervals, drowning out the sounds of both of their enjoyment. Then, when the first word was spoken, Garry gained the inspiration to keep the headboard banging: "Harder," whispered Olive.

Garry's moans turned into oh's. Olive's ooh's turned into overwhelmed aah's. Garry felt the tightness of Olive's vagina loosening up his inhibitions, and Olive felt the friction of Garry's penis cooling down her hatred.

It wasn't long before Garry pulled Olive off of him and flipped her over. Climbing onto the bed, he lifted her ass into the air and stuck himself back into her, holding her hips tightly. His pace slowed down and his force increased, sending a shockwave across her ass with each impact. Even with his enthusiasm, the second word had to be spoken: "Harder!" Olive cried. Her aah's turned into ungh's.

Olive's elbows gave out and her torso fell to the bed. She started to rub her own breasts over her bra as Garry fucked her from behind vigorously. I imagine every boy who watched the video instantly came as Olive unknowingly looked directly into the camera and said three more words: "Fuck me harder!" she screamed.

As much as he was able to in his current state, Garry went as hard as he could. They both shouted a multitude of aah's, oh's, oooh's, ungh's, and mmm's. It wasn't long before Olive had her second orgasm. Her convulsions compressed the compartment containing his cock, which was just enough to push him over the edge. Perhaps it was the excitement of sleeping with someone else or the alcohol, but Olive said the last words of her video, another thing I didn't expect: "I want your cum inside me," she breathed.

And that was it. Garry released himself inside of her, a plentiful amount thanks to his recent inactivity. He finished and stayed inside of her for several minutes, regaining his breath. Olive remained stagnant as well, still in euphoria. It would be the last time she would feel so good.

**********

The second part of the video is less graphic, but what is seen created such an uproar that I got paid extra.

Ted entered the garage and got into the back. It was very evident that he expected to get a girl. To that point, he hadn't thought of Fred in that way. That would change in a matter of minutes.

The window of the car was open, and Ted turned the radio on, setting some R&B to the scene. Fred entered through the door to Ted's back. He stood there for quite some time, feeling nervous and shy. Most likely for fear of rejection, he found a makeshift blindfold, a burlap sack.

Being sure not to alert him, Fred tiptoed over to the car and slipped the bag over Ted's head. When he jerked forward, Fred did his best to sound sexy. "Shhhh."

Ted laughed a little under the bag and leaned back against the door again. Fred got into the car through the other side and completely switched his mood to that of his most recent character in the theater: cocky and arrogant. The only difference is that he got to play it gay this time.

Fred ran his hand over Ted's crotch slowly, creating his erection that showed strongly through his jeans. Unfortunately for Olive, he was about the same size as Garry. Fortunately for Fred, a very inexperienced homosexual, he was about the same size as Garry.

Unable to wait any longer, Fred unzipped Ted's jeans and removed his sweaty manmeat, keeping it warm with the friction of his hand. He applied just a little extra pressure with his thumb, much to Ted's pleasure. "Damn, baby you know just how it works." Just to keep him happy, Fred kept up his masterful handjob for another five minutes, invoking a few twitches from Ted's hips.

Unlike his hand, Fred's mouth had much less experience with the penis. So to warm up, he started to lick up and down the short shaft of Ted' phallus. "Don't tease me, baby," Ted laughed. As it turned out, his amateur status was working out.

When Fred finally engulfed the head of his cock, he let out a drawn out sigh. Olive abstained from giving him blowjobs lately, so any quality was acceptable, especially considering the large amount of alcohol he had consumed. "That's right, suck it bitch," Ted gruffed.

"God your so hot," Fred slipped. Without noticing, he had spoken. Ted took off the bag and saw a man sucking his dick. 

"What the fuck?!" Fred jumped in fear as Ted screamed. "What the shit are you doing, man?"

"Listen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trick you but... I am unbelievably attracted to you," Fred admitted, officially coming out of the closet for the first time after me.

A little pause cut the air before Ted exploded, "I'm not gay, get away from me!"

"Doesn't it feel good, asshole?!" Fred snapped. I may not be able to blame everything on the alcohol, but that I can. And the same goes for Ted's response.

"Yeah, I guess it does," Ted's intoxicated mind forced him to say.

"So what the fuck is the problem then? You're not sucking my cock I'm sucking yours. What difference does it make if you just get to sit there and enjoy yourself while I do all the work?"

"Hey just calm down," Ted said, now feeling a little guilty.

The camel's back had been broken, and Fred gave a great theatric monologue. "You listen here, I've spent the last four years being flirted with by girl after girl. I tried my best to like them but I just couldn't do it. No matter how many blowjobs I got and no matter how many girls flashed their tits at me, I just couldn't get any pleasure out of it. I even fucked Marcy Daly twice. And we did some dirty fucking stuff too, but nothing did it for me. Guess who likes getting tied up? But nothing worked for me. Because I'm gay. Now I finally get a chance to express that and you can't let me have it."

"Fuck it dude, just blow me," Ted said, resigned as possible.

"With pleasure," grunted Fred.

His newfound resentment put vigor into the stroke of his hand on Ted's cock. The skin grew red from the quick friction, and the head stayed well salivated. Fred took his other hand and placed it on Ted's balls, then squeezed them lightly, causing Ted to yelp.

"Say you like it," ordered Fred.

"Shit, what the fuck?" he screamed.

"Say you like it!" he demanded, now squeezing a little harder.

Ted was both afraid for his genitals and in extreme pain as he submitted, "Shit, I like it, I like it!"

"Mean it," Fred threatened.

"I like the way you're handling my cock," he mumbled.

"Very close," he said, squeezing just a smidge harder.

Ted broke and pretended for a quick moment that he was somewhere else. "I like the way you're handling my cock, sir!"

"Better." Fred put his hand back on Ted's leg and returned his mouth to the cock before him. His hand moved ever faster, and the recipient seethed in both pain and pleasure. The orgasm that came was almost forced.

Fred took the entirety of his friend's cum in his mouth. But rather than swallowing, he leaned up and cam face to face with Ted. He spat the cum back at him, and watched it slide down his face. But that wasn't all of it. He spit the last of it on the seat, and proclaimed, "Good luck getting that stain out. Maybe you'll remember me after we graduate."

**********

Sarah was sent to the maid's room where she sat down and bit her lip in anticipation and fear of failure. This is the only time that Sarah did not exhibit her usual apathy. She chewed her fingernails, paced around, and for a moment, prayed. Luckily for her she wasn't doing anything embarrassing when Pam walked through the door.

Pam came in with a look of great surprise. Sarah stood before she could turn around. "Wait," she said, "don't go. I asked to get a room with you."

"Why?"

"I have to tell you something."

Pam came in and sat down next to Sarah, now concerned for her close friend. "What's up?"

"Promise me you won't walk out of the room?"

"Promise."

"Pam, I'm in love with you. I have been for like a year. I know you hate gays, and I'm not, but... I am bisexual. I don't expect you to love me back; I actually thought you'd hate me forever. I just had to tell you. I'm sorry."

Pam sat there, unmoved. A million thoughts rushed through her mind. But what came strongest was her conversation with me a week prior. She replayed the whole thing several times, fighting the urge to storm out of the room and never look at Sarah again. Fortunately for me, the most prominent part of the memory was the embarrassment of being yelled at by a man.

Sarah sat there, growing more and more afraid of losing Pam. Her blank stare frightened her very much. She ran through the possible outcomes, but only the negative ones. Then Sarah made eye contact with her.

"You love me?" Pam asked.

Sarah nodded. Pam nodded back. Then she smiled, a sexy and seductively devilish smile. In one swift motion, Sarah was on her back, Pam on top of her, tongues intertwined and slipping back and forth with each other swiftly.

Sarah's leg was bent, and Pam started to grind against it. Sarah started to whimper both with pleasure and with happiness. Pam, on the other hand, was experiencing a whole new level of sexuality. It's safe to say that in just a few kisses, Pam had gone from strictly straight to lustfully lesbian.

Sarah, afraid of overstepping her boundaries, let Pam make all the first moves. When Pam's hand shot down her pants and started rubbing her pussy over her panties, Sarah returned the favor. They both moaned on each other's lips and savored the feeling of each other's fingers.

Pam moved Sarah's panties out of the way and spread her vaginal juices about her pelvis. Sarah became so distracted by the pleasure that she stopped her work and just enjoyed receiving the passion of a good girl gone bad.

"You know what I want?" said Pam.

"What?" moaned Sarah.

"I want you to cum. Can you do that for me?"

"I can do that as many times as you want, baby. If you earn it."

Pam inserted a finger inside of her, and began to thrust it in and out of her. Sarah bounced slightly with the rhythm of her efforts. But not too long after, Pam stopped.

"Take off your clothes," she whispered, ending the phrase by biting Sarah's ear. Pam rolled off her and got the pleasant surprise of seeing Sarah stand up and begin to strip.

Sarah swayed her hips and dipped her knees, dancing around an imaginary pole that inspired her to show of a level of sexiness that she would neither dare to show any man nor be able to feel otherwise. She removed her top, and threw it at Pam, who nibbled it as Sarah continued to expose her pale skin inch by inch. She stuck her ass out, pressed her tits together, blew kisses over at Pam until at last there was nothing hidden. She returned to the bed and helped Pam out of her confining clothing as well until they both laid naked on the maid's bed.

They kissed again, and Sarah mounted Pam, erecting her body and towering over the new vixen beneath her. "You're sure you want this?" Sarah asked.

"More than anything in the world," replied Pam. "Now give me your pussy."

Sarah inched forward with her knees until at last her nearly dripping and engorged lips hovered over Pam's face. Although inexperienced, Pam knew what she liked, and began to perform on Sarah accordingly. She circled directly at her hole first, and then gave one long lick from bottom to top. She lightly flicked at her clit for just one second, and then repeated the procedure again and again.

Sarah could not be in a better state of euphoria. She bucked her hips every time she felt the surge of electricity from Pam's tongue. She held on to the top of the headboard and looked past her heaving breasts to see Pam's eyes looking up at her. "That's wonderful..." Sarah cooed. She gasped loudly when she felt greater pressure on her clit. It took her by such surprise that she came, soaking Pam's face.

"My turn," Pam said.

When Sarah was ready, she rolled onto her back. Pam got on top of her and began kissing her yet again. She rubbed her body up and down Sarah, feeling their hard nipples hit each other. Her excitement and enthusiasm surprised Pam, but there was certainly no objection.

Pam rolled off and let Sarah take the same position. She kissed from her lips down to her neck, over her supple breasts, across her stomach, and at last to her eager pussy. Sarah took an entirely different approach to cunnilingus.

She stuck her tongue as far inside as she could, eliciting a gasp and a, "Yessss..." from Pam, who began to rub her own breasts and pinch her nipples. The more pleasure she felt, the more she caressed herself.

"I've never felt so good, Sarah... Why haven't we been doing this all along?"

"It's not so bad to dyke it up, see?"

"You're so right... I should have tried this long ago... OHHH!!" She screamed as she received her first orgasm in quite some time. She shivered and convulsed, and returned the favor of soaking Sarah's face with her cum.

Sarah licked her lips and smiled. "One more for the road?"

"What do you have in mind?"

Sarah moved to position herself just right and placed her pussy against Pam's, her left leg over her partner's right. "How's this?"

Pam smiled and began the scissoring. They bucked their hips, voiced their pleasure, and stared into each other's eyes. Their skin became damp and sweaty as they both worked their hearts into making the other cum again.

"The best part about fucking girls... is that you never cum just once..." Sarah said, panting heavily.

"Sarah, I think I've loved you all along," Pam admitted.

"I couldn't be happier. Ahhh!"

Perhaps it was love that gave them their orgasms at the same moment. They fell on their backs and squirted at each other. When they recovered, they partook in the staple of any loving couple's post-sex activity: cuddling. But for Pam, it would be the last time.

**********

The video didn't last very long, but did become popular on porn sites for a while. Eventually it was successfully erased, but how I'll never know.

Olive became pregnant with Garry's child. The soulless bitch she was, she had no trouble getting an abortion, but not before word got out. Garry received hazing from the rest of the baseball team for the rest of the school year. Neither of them has been seen since.

Ted received several beatings from the more homophobic students at Polk High. Fred would have too, but he had plenty of gay theater friends to back him up. His embarrassment came from the same kind that a girl would receive for kinkiness and slutiness. Nobody took him seriously, and everybody spat at his feet.

Pam suffered the worst of it. When she learned that there was a video of what she had done, she nearly dropped out of high school just a month before graduation. Instead, she stuck it out and after graduation became a devoted nun. Sarah, heartbroken, forever became an introvert and has never loved since.

None of them walked at graduation.

**********

I went to Lyle later that week after school. I didn't want to bring it up during Government class for fear of word getting out that I set up the whole thing. 

"$500. Fork it over," I coldly ordered.

"Absolutely. I couldn't have asked for more, thank you very much." He started counting the twenties so that I knew it was the right amount. When he handed it to me, I looked at it intently. That's when I knew that I would be doing this much more often. I knew that this would not be the last job.

"Thanks, Lyle. Have a nice life," I said. I turned around and expected never to speak to him again. I was going to go home and listen to more Rush, or maybe explore Yes. Instead, I turned back to him one more time. I walked to him and got dangerously close. He looked frightened, probably expecting to me chew him out for some reason. Even I'm surprised with what I did. I threw my hand to his cock, and squeezed it with a massaging motion for just a quick moment. He stood there with a look of shock as I turned around. I smiled and thought, "Kim, you're in for a whole new world." Arriving home, I put on the wonderful video I produced and masturbated, feeling accomplished and new.

I used to be the shy rocker girl. Now I'm Kim Lazenby, social assassin.