Tolerance
Chapter 3
The next day was Saturday, so DJ was able to sleep in and take some time to reflect on his observations. It was clear now that ever since the day after his birthday, something had happened that caused everyone to turn a blind eye to whatever he did. What he’d done with Charlie and Charlie’s girlfriend Ashley, with Emily, with Sydney, and a dozen other less sexually charged experiments had confirmed it. If he could pressure Sydney into begging to be fucked in a strip club parking lot, there seemed to be little beyond his reach.
So how did this happen? Was it magic? Some sort of X-Men evolution? Divine intervention? He even considered that it may have been genetic—his parents both having passed so long ago, he had little way of knowing. Either way, he had no way of puzzling it out, so it seemed pointless to ponder.
Other questions remained, though. Most pressing was how long this would last—was it permanent? If he kept up like last night, would it wear off someday and leave him swarmed by people out to avenge themselves on him? Was the effect localized to an area? Like, when he went home for fall break next week, would everyone here snap out of it? Or would the effect stay here and people back home would still be their normal selves?
But every time he dredged up some new question, he realized he had no clues and no ways to find them. He considered reaching out to those who dabbled in the occult, but really, just because something seemingly supernatural was happening to him, it didn’t make those people any less kooky. Besides, even if it did wear off, he had no doubt he’d already made enough enemies that he’d be in big trouble.
Still, despite his dubious behavior with Sydney, DJ had always considered himself a decent person. He was no saint, but he was true to his friends, he obeyed the law, tried not to rock the boat. He could easily see himself letting this power corrupt him. It would change him; that was inevitable. One couldn’t win the lottery without it changing oneself.
DJ just didn’t want to become a monster. Though he could already feel the question burgeoning in the dark corners of his heart: was it monstrous? If no one really minded, wasn’t it just a victimless crime?
He was pondering this in a quiet corner of the dorm’s cafeteria when Ashley caught his eye. She was giving him the stinkeye—though that was nothing new, ever since he’d broken up her party months ago. So maybe DJ didn’t want to become a monster, but he didn’t want to keep being a pushover either.
Ashley sat down with a group of her friends, a den of vipers that he could practically hear hissing, and many of whom also hated him for that same cause. He approached, and was standing beside her before he even knew what he intended to do.
“Hey, Ashley.”
She looked up at him with plain dislike. “What the fuck do you want? We’re trying to eat—or is that against the rules too?” Her friends giggled.
“Look, I realize that whole incident was unpleasant, and I just wanted to come over and say I’m sorry it all went down that way. I was just doing my job, you know? I don’t there to be bad blood between us.” Her face grew sympathetic as he explained, and he smiled hopefully.
“I tell you what, BJ.”
“DJ, actually.”
“Whatever. I tell you what, BJ. You pay me back the $200 the booze you cost me in alcohol, and I’ll call us even. How’s that sound?” Her friends vocalized their agreement with the sentiment, clearly not expecting an RA making less than half of that a month to accept such terms.
“Fair deal.” DJ reached into his wallet, still overflowing with the money he’d made with Sydney last night. (Ordinarily he’d never walk around with so much cash, but he figured things being the way they were, what did he have to worry about?) He counted out $200 bill by bill, dropping it on the table in front of the stunned group of girls.
When he finished, he slid it over towards her. “You’re sure it was just $200?”
Too shocked to consider exploiting the implied offer, she just nodded. “Um, yeah. That oughta cover it.”
“So we’re cool now?”
Ashley looked to her friends, and she to them. A brief murmured conference took place before she looked back to DJ. “Yeah, we’re cool.”
DJ grinned. “Cool. I’ll see you around.” He walked away feeling good about himself. So far, so good.
His second temptation came that night. DJ and the few friends he did have got together one night a week, usually Saturday, to play games and hang out to do the kind of things nerds did, and today was it. He took the bus to the apartment Logan and Derek shared, his stock of board games in his duffel bag. Robbie, the final member of the foursome, was not coming—working on a big project due Monday, evidently.
He contemplated whether or not to tell them what had happened to him, and decided he may as well. He began with the incident in the lounge, and proceeded up through last night at the strip club. The guys listened with some interest, and when he finished, he looked to them for reaction.
“Yeah, so is it my turn or yours?” Logan asked.
“I think it’s yours,” Derek replied.
DJ laughed to himself, and just played the game. After the craziness of the previous couple days, it was nice to just be hanging out without any mischief or complications. He lost the first game, and was losing the second with an easy contentment at the uncomplicated evening.
That is, until Rachael showed up. She walked in without knocking, a hamper full of clothes held in front of her. Rachael was Derek’s little sister, a freshman at the university. Worst of all, Rachael was cute. She was thin, skinny really, with breasts that were probably just barely a B cup but complimented her wide-eyed innocent face, and with a butt so tight DJ thought he could cup it in one hand.
Derek was well aware that Rachael was a distraction—and was not at all keen on having his friends eyeing his little sister. “What the hell are you doing here, Rach? The guys are over. It’s game night.”
“Don’t mind me, fellas—just here to do a little laundry.”
Derek arched an eyebrow. “On a Saturday night? And you say I’m antisocial.”
She set down her hamper in front of the closet that held the washer/dryer and flipped her brother off. “My friends all went home for the weekend,” she said in a tone that made it clear that was not something that interested her, “and besides, every time I do laundry at the dorm, stuff goes missing. I think there’s some perv going around stealing panties and stuff.” She made a face.
Logan perked up and asked her to join their game and take Robbie’s usual spot, but she politely declined. Instead, she got a load going and curled up on the couch with a beauty magazine. She was wearing short shorts, and neither DJ nor Logan could resist glancing over at the exposed expanse of slender leg. Derek glared at them whenever he caught them.
And so it went for most of an hour, DJ just thinking all the while how easily he could go over there and act out every fantasy the nubile freshman had ever inspired in him. But as it happened, it was Derek who finally pushed him over the edge.
“Earth to Swanson?” Derek slugged him in the arm, a little too hard, and DJ dragged his eyes away from where Rachael was repeatedly bending at the waist to grab the clothes from the wash and toss them in the dryer. (For a moment, DJ wondered that someone had willingly hit him, but he quickly rationalized that this was just a common and annoying habit Derek had with his friends.) “If you’re not too busy dreaming up bullshit stripper stories, you could take your turn, eh?”
Rachael looked over curiously, and DJ tried not to notice the lacy red bra in her hand. “Stripper stories?”
Derek shook his head. “Don’t get him started. Came in here earlier telling us he’s got a super power that lets him bang strippers.”
Rachael arched an eyebrow, laughing. “I guess that’d be a good one to have.”
She bent down and, with perfect innocence, grabbed a thong out of the washer, turned and twisted it until she could figure how to get it right-side out, and put it in the dryer. The image, the taunt, the legs...
No. It’s your friend’s sister. It’s wrong.
Derek slugged him in the arm again. DJ’s resolve broke.
As Rachael dumped the remainder of her hamper into the washer, DJ was there to stop the lid from closing. “Say, what about the clothes you’re wearing?”
She looked down at her baggy t-shirt and short shorts. “What about them?”
“Don’t you want to get them clean? I just hate that feeling when I do laundry, get it all folded and put away, then I have to toss the clothes I’m wearing in the hamper.”
She laughed, humoring him. “Yeah, me too. Still, can’t exactly sit around naked for the next two hours while it cycles through.”
DJ waved a hand. “Sure you can! You got your brother here to look out for you, make sure none of us try anything.”
“I kinda don’t want him seeing me naked either.” She stood awkwardly, not sure what to do with DJ’s hand still keeping the lid open.
“Nonsense.” He grasped the bottom of her shirt in both hands, and without asking, began lifting it up. She squirmed a moment, but only a little, and it wasn’t nearly enough to thwart the efforts of a man determined to get her top off. A moment later, there she was in her little pink bra, her little breasts so small that even the tiny garment looked baggy on her.
“DJ!” She squeaked.
“We’re all adults here—besides, Derek doesn’t think I have any ‘super power,’ so since I don’t, I’m sure he’ll step in if I take it too far, won’t you Derek?”
Derek gave him a hard look, but kept his seat. “Rachael’s a big girl; she can take care of herself.” Meanwhile, Logan just stared like he thought if he looked hard enough, his eyes would melt the bra right off of her.
“C’mon Rachael, let’s go. Rest of your clothes. C’mon. C’mon.” He took her wrists in hands and moved them to her bra clasp; she lowered them, but after a few times of him putting them back in place, she finally undid the clasp. Her breasts were petite, but they were no less lovely for it, just large enough to have that little crease between them and the skin of her upper stomach.
DJ took the bra from her hand and tossed it in the washer as she covered her breasts with her hands. Tall as she was, and short as her shorts were, she was already mostly bare. “Good girl, Rachael, now the shorts.”
“What?!” she half-shrieked, half-whispered. “No, no way.”
“You can take them off or I can take them off for you. Your pick.”
Somehow she blushed even deeper, and after a moment, hooked her thumbs in the waistline of her shorts and wiggled them down. She kicked them off when they hit her ankles. Her panties were silk leopard print and clung to her trim frame like a second skin.
As she crouched to pick up the shorts, DJ caught her under the armpits. “No no no, Rach. Bend at the waist. Turn around, bend at the waist. You have an incredible ass, and I think if you don’t show it off just a little then Logan is going to cry.” Logan nodded somberly.
Rachael, increasingly sensing her powerless here, did as DJ asked. Derek made an intense study of his cards; Logan tilted his head sideways like he was seeing a masterpiece of art for the first time; DJ put his hand on Rachael’s back and held her in that position.
“Um, can I stand up?”
He held her a moment longer before removing his hand; she stood up and quickly dumped the shorts in the washer.
Her audience looked at her expectantly.
“Come on, DJ. Please let me keep my panties on. Please? I mean, you guys already got a good look. Don’t make me take off my panties.”
“I tell you what—you get a choice. You can take off your panties, or you can spend the whole time between loads sitting on Logan’s lap.”
“Fuck yes!” Logan hooted.
With a few words grunted irritably, Derek excused himself to get a drink from the kitchen while Rachael pondered it, looking warily at Logan before wordlessly sliding her panties off. Her pussy was shaved smooth, DJ noted with shock. As if anticipating him, she bent at the waist again, her perfect little ass waving in the air as she tossed her panties in the washer and started the load.
Logan didn’t even look like he minded the decision.
DJ was still fondling Rachael’s tight little ass when her brother returned from the kitchen. He stopped, and gave a long look at DJ, obviously displease. “Are you seriously going to spend all night feeling up my sister, or can we get back to the fucking game already?” Rachael looked up over her shoulder at DJ hopefully.
“I’m just showing you guys my story about Sydney isn’t bullshit. I mean, this doesn’t strike you as a little weird? That Rachael let me strip her naked and grab her ass?”
Derek folded his arms across his chest. “Well what’s she supposed to do? Smack you? Storm out with her laundry undone?”
“YES!” DJ cried. “Yes, that’s exactly what most people would do if I did this to them. I mean, what if Logan was doing this? Would you still sit there and just let him?” Logan bolted out of his seat to join DJ, but a hard punch in the shoulder from Derek stopped him in his tracks and he sat back down glumly. “See?” DJ continued. “He even hints at it and you’re up in arms, but I’m standing here still doing it and you don’t lift a finger!”
Derek shrugged. “It’s not the same.”
“How so.”
Derek looked confused a moment, then just answered, “It’s not your choice what I do and don’t get bothered by.”
DJ just laughed and finally let Rachael stand up. She immediately went over to the couch, tucking her knees against her bare breasts for modesty. “Will you at least acknowledge that my story earlier was legit?”
“Dude, I’m still not swallowing that crap. Give it the hell up already.”
“What would I have to do to prove it to you?”
“If you have some sort of super power that lets you bully people into doing what you want, then get this Sydney bitch over here and have her tell us herself.”
“Fuck yeah! Had those tits of hers in my head ever since you told the story,” Logan cried, eager to see another naked chick.
“I don’t even know how to contact her—so how about something I can do right here, right now. What’s something you could do right now but wouldn’t?”
“Spank Rachael’s bare ass!” Logan blurted. To his credit, he did at least have the grace to clap a hand over his mouth after and look a bit abashed.
Rachael gasped in indignant shock, and Derek rose to his feet angrily. “No fucking way! You fucking pervert, Logan!”
Logan held up his hands defensively as DJ grinned. “Then that’s it. I get you to spank your sister, you admit I could auction a stripper like a cheap piece of meat.”
“That’s never going to happen, DJ.”
Only a few minutes of nagging, tugging and cajoling later, Rachael’s nubile young body was draped over her brother’s lap, her unbelievably toned butt wriggling nervously as Derek pointedly avoided looking down.
“No.”
DJ grabbed his wrist and pulled it back. Every muscle in Derek’s body was absolutely rigid—except the arm DJ was controlling, which moved as pliantly as could be, right down to slam his open palm into Rachael’s ass.
“Ow! Derek, that hurt!” Rachael whined.
Derek snorted. “That doesn’t count anyway—that’s you who did the smacking DJ, not me.”
DJ thought a moment, then deftly snatched Derek’s phone off the table and snapped a picture. Both siblings were looking up in shock and horror. “What the fuck are you doing!” Derek yelled.
“Spank her, or I text that picture to your parents. Do you have your grandparents in here? Them too.”
Rachael made a whimpering sound. “Please, no.”
“It’s not me you should be saying ‘please’ to, Rach. Preparing the text…”
Rachael sputtered nervously. “Spank me! Fucking spank me, Derek! Don’t let him send it—just spank me, all right?” She was too nervous to see Logan holding his own camera surreptitiously, recording every glorious moment of the freshman’s pleading.
Derek sighed, then drew his handback, hesitating at the apex. “Rachael, I can’t…”
“Just pretend I’m someone else! But spank my ass already, Derek!”
Derek winced, and with a last desperate look at his treasonous phone, his willpower broke. Down came his hand, the sound of flesh on flesh cracking through the living room. He looked up to DJ. “There, happy now?”
DJ pitilessly shook his head.
SMACK! Rachael cried out. SMACK! Her tiny body shuddered, two little tits jerking from the impact. Derek, figuring five was a rational number, issued two more before looking up again for permission. Rachael trembled.
“Holy shit!” Logan cried, pointing. “She’s getting off on it!”
Derek and DJ both looked closer, and sure enough, the college freshman’s pussy was visibly moistening with arousal. Meanwhile, the rest of her body was turning so red it looked like she’d been left on a sunny beach for about a week.
“Come on,” Derek complained, “that’s enough, all right?”
“Five more,” DJ said, and Derek readied his hand to administer them—a little too quickly this time, he thought. “Hold it—but this time, she has to ask for them.”
Rachael shut her eyes, humiliated to her core, but still more aroused than she’d ever been in her life somehow. She wasn’t attracted to her brother, but the exhibitionism, the kinkiness of it all… she clearly couldn’t deny it. The evidence was dripping from her pussy.
“P-please,” she whispered. A moment, later, she was rewarded with another firm swat.
“Louder, Rachael.”
“Another, please,” she said, in a tone barely louder than before. She gasped as another blow landed.
“Full volume, or I make him stop,” DJ demanded. Derek looked a bit perplexed at the order, but Rachael was too far gone to consider it anything but a grave threat.
“Please, more!” It was louder now, almost as loud as the resounding crack that followed it a moment later.
“More what? Be clear now, Rachael,” DJ teased.
“Please spank my little ass!” Rachael shouted. DJ blinked, dimly aware that this was no doubt audible in adjacent apartment units. If that got their attention, they might even have heard the sound of Derek’s hand whacking her bare butt.
Rachael breathed in ragged, heaving gasps as she quivered in anticipation, needing this final smack to be enough, terrified it wouldn’t be. “For this last one, I want to hear you beg for it. You have to earn this one.”
Rachael let out a trembly breath. “Please, please spank my ass! I’m a naughty little slut, and I need to be spanked! Punish me! Fucking spank my naughty little butt, please! Oh please oh please oh please ohaaaaieeeeeee!”
The final blow landed. DJ half-expected her to cum on the spot, but whatever his influence was, it wasn’t enough to make a girl orgasm from having her butt spanked. Rachael, however, wasn’t ready to concede the point and leapt to her feet so hard she almost knocked Derek out of his chair. Seeing Logan staring in mesmerized lust, she grabbed his waistline and pulled herself up to him, smothering him in a frantic kiss.
“You’re going to fuck me, all right? I need to fucking cum before I explode.” Logan, goggle-eyed at the sight of a girl demanding to be fucked by him, was then dragged out of the room. Not thirty second later they could hear Rachael howling and shrieking in bliss as she rode herself to orgasm. It being Logan’s first time, it didn’t last long, but she still clocked four orgasms to his one—and Derek and DJ could hear every elated one of them.
“All right, I believe you about the stripper.”
It appears, DJ thought, I need some work on rising above temptation.