Re: Futa Note (Re-Write) - by Tosaku no Kishi
Chapter 15 - Overcome
Dull clouds blotted the sun from view. Meagre streams of light broke past the blanket of grey, casting sparse rays upon the world below, leaving it a cold mess. Zoey stood at her window, dressed in a simple grey t-shirt and skirt, with her hands clasped tight on her arms. The day appeared miserable. Even the energy of her neighbour’s children was subdued as they marched toward the bus stop, stripped of their childish glee by the week. Yet her own heart fluttered and her legs shook in nervous energy.
She caught sight of her own reflection in the windowpane. No more fear. That beast would stay locked up, chained to the darkest corners of her mind, starved and meek. Whatever came at her today, she would face it. Not shirk the confrontation, but meet it. Easier said than done. A phrase which irked her the more she thought it.
Why couldn’t it be done easily? Any consequence that might befall her today couldn’t be permanent, even Gretchen wasn’t immune to the law. She was close. A flash of tit and ass and she had most cops under her skirt, trapped between her meaty thighs and doused in her pheromones. Zoey dug her nails into her skin at the glimmer of desire in her crotch. The terse string around her cock flexed.
“Later,” Zoey promised. If all went as planned, she couldn’t afford to be tardy anymore. She would float back into the flow of mundanity, away from Gretchen’s demands and hate, a feeling she reciprocated. A flash of last night snapped her into motion. She ignored the low throb in her dick and grabbed her school bag, for the first time in years.
Megan was downstairs, dressed provocatively. Don’t look, don’t look. Giving anything beyond a glance to the deadbeat encouraged her, despite that, she teased Zoey with glee. But she was left without a response as Zoey left, eyes fixed on anything but her older sister. The door muffled Megan’s demands for attention. Once outside, the younger sibling leaned into the door and heaved a sigh of relief. A smile graced her face, bright against the dreary atmosphere.
Warmth sparked to life and clashed with the weather. Her sigh turned to a gentle moan at the heat. It spread across her form, comforted and encouraged her. She could do this. Today would be different, the beast she envisioned as her fear would be concealed, no matter how it clawed at the surface. A chair scraped against the floor, likely Megan getting up to pursue her. Zoey hurried down the street, out of sight when the door opened.
The school loomed overhead. Fences surrounded it on all sides with a single break at its front, framed by two brick towers, cracked and moss covered. They each stood just shy of seven feet tall. Zoey glanced to their peaks, obscured from her diminutive view. She’d thought, in her freshman year, that she might grow tall enough to peer over them. It didn’t happen, though she could jump high enough. The idea was a fantasy now.
Zoey lowered her chin and headed for the track field. The forecast was for rain, so she wanted to get a run in while she could. The area was vacant, as she expected. Her bag dropped against a wall as she went about stretching. Five-foot or six-foot, it didn’t matter. She’s a runner, her legs would carry her further than most others, away from worry. No, not away. She didn’t want to be away. Run to it, regardless of what worried her.
“Visualise it,” Zoey said and exhaled slowly. She stepped onto the track field, between the faded lines, and fell into position. Before her, she pictured a shadowed figure, featureless and imprinted her greater fret upon it. Platinum locks formed, styled and extravagant, its shape curved out at the hips and chest. The skin turned from black to a light gold and it turned, wearing Gretchen’s face.
“Beat her,” Zoey commanded herself. The shadow adopted its own pose, sloppy in technique. She counted down in her head. 3… 2… 1… Go! Zoey launched herself forward. Her legs were tiny, no taller than Rachel’s, but her power remained. Yet the shadow sprinted ahead of her. It leapt with its longer strides, catapulting itself further and further ahead.
Why? Zoey pushed herself harder. Salty rivulets streaked down her forehead. Her muscles extended and retracted, her feet pounded into the dirt, kicking it up behind her, and her arms pumped at her sides. If she were taller, she would be moving at full speed. The scenery blurred and faded around her.
Only the shadow and ground remained. The former turned its vicious head and winked at her, its face rippled and took on a new visage, that of a fellow runner, someone she’d lost to over and over. Her imagined adversary stepped up the pace, all while its hips swayed, as tempting as it was mocking. It’s hopeless. Zoey stumbled to a stop. The world jerked back into focus and the shadow vanished with a mocking wave, once again wearing Gretchen’s face.
“Why?” Zoey repeated aloud and sank to the earth. Her balls brushed against the back of her skirt, so heavy and huge she couldn’t fit them into her boxers. Even in her imagination, she couldn’t do anything against Gretchen, let alone someone else. She slouched forward to rest her palms against the grass, legs spread and shoulders slumped in exhaustion. A glimpse of her cock greeted her.
She needed a booster of some sort. Something, anything, to distract from the despicable performance. Only one fantasy put her above Gretchen, one that would be locked in her mind for all eternity. That’s fine. She didn’t want it to be real, not yet. Zoey raised her skirt and took a peek at her member. It throbbed in greeting, aware of the desire for relief surging in her veins.
Zoey snapped her hands down and looked around. A girl, Holly, approached her, jovial grin on her face. She was part of the track team, an underperformer despite her long, powerful legs, befitting her six-foot stature. Shameful. It befuddled Zoey how someone could ignore such a great asset, why they would choose to laze about and monologue about boys or their makeup. She turned away.
“Well, whatever,” Holly shrugged and stepped onto the track field herself. She stretched, catching Zoey’s eye as she bent down and forward, pressing her honed rear flush against her skirt. The girl’s breasts were small, but pert beneath her top, enough for someone of Zoey’s stature to get a delightful handful, “Ready for the race on Wednesday?”
“Oh shit,” Zoey groaned and stood, “I forgot.”
“Well, not like a shrimp like you’ll win or anything,” Holly giggled.
“I…” Zoey clenched her jaw, then breathed deep, “I’m not a shrimp.”
“Sure,” Holly said and leered down at her. She reached out to pet Zoey’s head.
“Stop it!” Zoey snapped and pushed the hand away. A flicker of heat warmed her belly.
“Finally got a backbone? Funny, didn’t think shrimp had any,” Holly persisted.
“I’m not a damn shrimp,” Zoey said. The warmth brightened and spread across her form. Did it always feel this good to stand up to someone? Her hands relaxed and flexed. A dull ache accompanied the heat.
“Looks like it to me,” Holly stood down to put her face level with Zoey’s.
“Well, I’m not!”
“Prove it,” Holly sneered, “What about a race?”
Zoey stiffened. All manner of responses sifted through her mind, as did the image of the shadow she’d created. She pushed all others aside and latched onto the one she most wanted, “Sure. I can’t wait to see your face when you lose to a short girl.”
“Please,” Holly rolled her ears and settled into position. Her grin turned to a confident, yet giddy expression, “One lap. Try not to choke on my dust.”
“I hope you choke on mine,” Zoey answered, again finding and clutching the response she desired. It spurned on the ember in her body.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side this morning.”
Zoey ignored her. In a few minutes, her actions would speak infinitely more refined than any sentence she could form. This wasn’t some shadow in her imagination, but a girl. One she had beaten time and again, always without trying. Even minus a foot of height, and weary from her previous run, she was certain of her victory.
“And… go!” Holly’s feet kicked off like a springboard. She took an early lead, darting ahead. Zoey huffed and pressed herself harder. The clap of shoe on dirt, the crunch of gravel and her laboured breaths, all merged into her thoughts. As always everything vanished, even Holly, leaving her in her thoughts. A place she both coveted and avoided.
It was there that she’d met the beast that dominated most of her life. Huge and vicious, furless with teeth like swords and eyes embroiled with blood. Yet it never attacked. Not how she would expect. Rather, it adored her. The terrifying monster would curl up on the lap of her mind, ever-present, like a huge dog. For so long, she had fed it with all her uncertainties.
Now her mind was empty. The beast was tucked into the furthest corners of her mind, held there by the elation of her body moving as it wished, unfazed by the weight of her existence. Stray thoughts scurried through, freed without the monster to keep them cowed. She felt good. The wind was nice. Her muscles were tired. She smelled dirt and a hint of sweat.
Holly remained ahead of her. They were moments away from the finish line. She was about to lose, in the one thing that gave her true release, to someone who didn’t care about it in the slightest. Unacceptable. Zoey had to win, she wanted to beat this girl. This isn’t a shadow, nor is it Gretchen. It’s just another girl.
Zoey grunted and pushed her muscles into next gear. Her shoes left deep imprints in the ground and replaced the ones Holly left behind. A drop of moisture fell on her head, another splashed against her foot, and a third slammed into her nose. Holly slowed to look up. The short athlete dashed forward to take the lead and trampled across the finish. She trudged to a stop and turned to face Holly.
“Well?” Zoey asked, panting as she recovered. Sweat dampened her shirt and dripped down her skin, before it bled into the raindrops. She glanced skyward, the dull clouds had gathered and let loose their captive moisture, building to a greater rainfall, and back to Holly. The other girl stared at her in shock.
“Whatever,” Holly muttered and walked away. Zoey grabbed her bag and followed, a broad smirk on her face. The warmth had dissipated, but it left a sense of serenity behind. How long had it been, since her shoulders relaxed like this, since her thoughts were empty without being on the field? The rainclouds unleashed their wrath seconds after she stepped inside. She glanced around the hallway. It looked different than it had yesterday.
It wasn’t the false lights that buzzed overhead. Nor the absence of students. Zoey shrugged, determined not to let her fears interrupt her release.
“There you are,” Rachel said.
“Hmm?” Zoey turned from her locker and looked down at her friend. Down? Yes, she was forced to look down to meet Rachel’s eyes. Her smile widened, “Hey, Rachel.”
“What’s got you all happy?” Rachel asked, returning the grin.
“Well…” the doors opened and interrupted her.
“Fuck me! Why did it have to start raining?” Mary Thomas demanded and shook her head, “Ugh, my poor hair.”
“It’ll be fine,” Dakota said and flipped her own, shorter locks, “You don’t hear Carmen complaining.” Carmen? Zoey looked to the new arrivals and there, between the former queen bee and her lackey, stood Carmen Robins. Her hair dripped from being stuck in the rain, yet it worked for her. The moisture forced her normally loose and tatty clothes to cling onto her skin, tight around her stunning form. Zoey gulped and looked away, a dull throbbing in her member. She risked a glimpse and caught the honour student’s eyes.
What was that look in them? She looked away before Zoey could decipher it further, turning to address her friends. They passed Zoey and Rachel, the short redhead glared at Carmen, before returning her attention to Zoey, who stared after the trio until they rounded a corner. Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when her phone vibrated.
“It’s Gretchen. She wants us. Come on,” Rachel said.
“No,” Zoey said.
“I’m not going,” Zoey shut her locker. The lock clicked into place.
“You’re not serious? You know what she’ll do.”
“I do. And I don’t care.” The warmth returned, softer than before, but it was there.
“Come on, Zoey,” Rachel insisted and grabbed her hand, frowned at it, then let go, “She’s gonna fucking rip your head off.”
“No, she won’t,” Zoey stated. Gretchen was a bitch, petty and sometimes violent, but she couldn’t do much beyond torment someone. If she attacked her, Zoey would call the cops. Simple.
“Who won’t?” The voice suited a cobra, slick and venomous, almost seductive, and curled around her. Zoey looked down the hall and saw Gretchen approach, with Ashley shuffling close behind.
“Uh,” Rachel gulped and glanced at Zoey, who had frozen. The warmth had vanished, replaced by an icy chill that crept along her spine, slow and excruciating.
“My… my sister…” Zoey said and lowered her head.
“Oh, yeah. Megan, right? I like her,” Gretchen said and leaned against a wall, “Anyway, I texted you girls, but you were taking so long, I figured I’d get you myself.” Her words dripped with disdain, as though the fact she had to find her subordinates disgusted her. It did. The fact was plain across her face.
“Sorry,” Rachel said.
“Better be,” Gretchen muttered, just loud enough for the others to hear the threat in her tone. Her voice flipped, “Anyway, we’ve got a bitch to take down.”
“Carmen again?” Zoey asked. Her lips clamped shut, sealed against any future traitorous words.
“No,” Gretchen said, “Think her name’s Jenna or something, doesn’t really matter. She’s the bitch who got us dragged to that assembly. That’s what matters.”
“What’re we going to do?” Ashley inquired, prompting an explanation.
“Whatever I want,” Gretchen giggled, a sound better associated with children running and playing, not a vengeful bitch on the warpath. They’d all seen what that meant. Jenna would leave school bruised, miserable, humiliated, and likely poorer as well. If she was lucky.
“But…” Zoey stopped at a sharp grip from Rachel. It was too late. Gretchen fixed her scowl upon the athlete and walked close, until her breasts suffocated Zoey’s smaller chest. They were close in height, only an inch separated them, but the blonde came off so much taller, like a giant or troll staring down an impertinent rodent. Zoey stepped back and Gretchen moved forward.
“What did you say?” Gretchen demanded. If she was a dog, her fangs would be bared, foaming with hunger and stalking toward the runner. Zoey’s legs twitched with the desire to run but didn’t move. She could outrun her with ease, why be scared. The girl opposite her was a lazy slut, whose only exercise came from squatting over a toilet or cock. And one rested mere centimetres from her, larger than any man Gretchen might’ve slept with.
She claimed to be a true size queen. How would she react to Zoey’s member? Flaccid, it met her knees and forced her to wear a longer skirt with her dick strapped down at an angle, such that it wouldn’t be seen. Her erection shamed anything she’d heard of. A shudder of want passed from her spine into her groin. She kept her tongue from licking her lips.
Last night, she’d stumbled on the greatest sensation she’d ever felt. A simple move in the grand scheme, but one she doubted any man could pull off. Zoey’s cock throbbed against its bonds, craving to be back inside her mouth. The acknowledgement of where it had been urged her desire on, forcing her to step away.
Her cock had been so hard. It felt like bone wrapped in silk with dozens of fingers bulging beneath, and reached from her crotch to her chin while tilted away from her. Zoey had tried to masturbate, but the length was too much. Her arms became exhausted. What option did she have? Then she put it in her mouth and changed her world.
The head alone was almost too great, though she managed. Her hands abandoned the shaft and went to her balls, then one sank lower. She had massaged one heavy ball while her right hand sought her pussy. It was soaked and ravenous, swallowing her finger after finger as she moaned and squirmed in place. Juices leaked onto her hand and thighs and bedsheets, while drool leaked down her shaft and she struggled with her cock head.
She had overheard Mary and Gretchen discussing blowjobs before and followed their advice. She bobbed her head to and fro, careful of her teeth, and used her lips to caress it. Her tongue was pressed flat by its sheer size. All thought had vanished from her mind. Pleasure illuminated every corner of her mind, forcing the beast far back. She abandoned her testicle and circled her ass.
In a moment of mindless pleasure, she slid a finger inside. The burn had hurt so good, then she came to the final knuckle and curved her digit. There, she discovered her prostate. A moment later and she came. Hard.
She swore the remnants of her orgasm lingered on her tongue. Even as Gretchen snarled at her, she tasted the faint leftovers of cum.
“Out with it! Got a better idea? Huh?” Gretchen demanded.
“I…” Zoey stammered, blinking back to the present.
Rachel stepped forward, “She…”
“Fuck off!” Gretchen turned on her, “I’m talking here.” Cowed, Rachel backed away. Zoey was alone. All other teachers and students were elsewhere, though they wouldn’t stop Gretchen, having a set of witnesses for the cops would help.
Zoey looked everywhere but at the venomous girl’s eyes, “It’s just…”
“What? Can’t hear you. Speak up you little piece of shit.”
“Isn’t that her?” Ashley said from behind.
Gretchen rounded on the plump girl, but stopped when she followed Ashley’s finger. At the end of the hall, Jenna and another girl walked by. The blonde’s face split into a malicious smirk, almost inhuman in how it twisted her features. She started toward Jenna, as if Zoey had faded from existence. Ashley hurried after her while Rachel and Zoey lingered.
“What were you thinking?” Rachel whispered.
“Nothing,” Zoey said. She could’ve done it then and there, surpassed that shadow, stripped it of all its power over her. A simple punch or even just running. Either would’ve done the job of freeing her from Gretchen’s hold. Instead, all she did was lose herself in her memories and cower.
“She looked ready to kill you,” Rachel said.
“Have you gone mad?”
“I’m fine!” Zoey snapped. A wave of heat and coldness spread throughout her being. She blinked as the world seemed to roll around her, before it settled back into place. Her eyes turned to Rachel, who now stood on an even plane as her.
“Okay,” Rachel said and started walking. The athlete watched her before catching up.
“No, it’s fine,” Rachel shook her head, “About time you tried something anyway. Is my little Zoey growing a backbone?” She cooed.
“Basically,” Zoey shrugged, glad that she hadn’t damaged their friendship at least, “Didn’t work though.”
“What did you expect?” Rachel asked.
“Dunno. Success, maybe?”
Gretchen was out for blood. She strode past Jenna, heels clicking harshly against the floor, and blocked her path. Ashley, Rachel and Zoey hovered nearby. The other girl left Jenna to her fate, instantly reading the intent on Gretchen’s face. Zoey shifted from foot to foot, gaze adhered in horror to the scene as it played out before.
Jenna was a plain girl. Brunette, average height, decent curves and unnoteworthy if not for the bow in her hair. If Gretchen didn’t have access to the school files, she might’ve escaped the school without ever incurring Gretchen’s direct wrath. Sadly, reality dealt in favour of the blonde. Jenna attempted to get past, but Gretchen lashed out and grabbed her backpack.
“Where do you think you’re going, shit face?” The powerful girl sneered and turned to her cohorts, “Zoey, get over here.”
Why couldn’t she stay out of it? Zoey wanted to stand aside and pray that it might end soon, or for Gretchen to get struck by a meteor, but she couldn’t. What Gretchen wanted, she got. Without question.
“I’m going to hand you a few things. If little miss ‘goodie-two-shoes’ here does anything, you’re gonna break them,” Jenna visibly relaxed, assured that neither she or her belongings would be harmed for the moment, “Then again, if I don’t like it, just break it.”
Gretchen’s glare silenced her, still fuelled by her prior insubordination. The athlete hung her head and nodded, wincing at the chill that passed through her body. Even shrunken, she was Gretchen’s Pit Bull, owned for the sole purpose of destroying whatever she was given. Jenna tensed as her pack was opened. She said nothing. Smart move, any words would set Gretchen off, regardless of their intention.
Beg, and she would do it more. Fight back, and she would hurt you. No grey area.
“Hmm, oh hey, pretty expensive phone you’ve got here,” Gretchen sneered and pulled out a high-end cell phone, “Probably cost you a lot.”
“It was a present,” Jenna said. Big mistake, Zoey thought and glanced at Gretchen, whose cruel grin extended as she handed the device over. Jenna made a grab for it and had the air knocked from her lungs as she plummeted to the ground. The blonde sat atop Jenna’s knees and pinned her arms behind her back.
“Break it,” Gretchen ordered, staring into and past Zoey’s eyes. Her gaze grabbed the beast and dragged it to the surface. Any idea of opposition melted. If she were to refuse then Gretchen would turn on her and, at that point, she couldn’t fathom what she might do. As it stood, Zoey was surprised Gretchen was so restrained.
She tightened her grip on the phone and bent. It cracked and snapped in two after a minute of strain, all while Jenna looked on in rage, split now between both Zoey and Gretchen. The blonde reached back into the bag and rifled around.
“Bingo!” She pulled out a notebook, one with an ornate cover and elegant scrawl that read ‘Diary’. Gretchen handed it over, “Don’t tear it up yet. Read it for us.”
“Isn’t that going too…” Another glare and her voice trailed into silence.
“Don’t wanna do it, then fuck off and I’ll deal with you later. Maybe this bitch will help out with that? I mean, you did just destroy her phone.”
“Shut it! Get reading.”
“I… yes,” Zoey shrank back, “Where do I start?”
“Find something about a crush or whatever. Or maybe she writes about dirty shit?” Gretchen cackled, “Do you write about fingering yourself? I bet you’re a real slut. The plain ones always are. Maybe you get off fisting your ass?” Her hand crashed down on Jenna’s rear with a resounding smack. Silence followed, broken only by Jenna’s pained whimpers.
“Oh, I think I know what I’m gonna do with you. Fuck the diary, we’re going to the gym.”
They moved to the gym storage room. Basic equipment occupied the space. Gymnastic mats, a basket of disused and deflated balls, some skipping and climbing rope. A single window stood sentry, cracked and ajar, letting the damp and chill air in. The smell of mould filled the room as it grew in the upper corners. A deep crack lined the far-right wall and drops of rain leaked through the roof.
Zoey hated this. She hated it because of herself more than anything. How could she be so weak, as to stand there and do nothing? Every other thought she had craved to escape or put an end to the scene before her, yet neither were heeded. The poor girl whimpered beneath Gretchen, whose sadistic merriment worsened with each noise. In one hand, she held a marker, in the other a pair of sharpened scissors.
Any other person would’ve kept their thoughts to themselves or joked about going through with it. Gretchen had no such filter. She set aside the marker and ran the scissors along Jenna’s shirt, severing it and her bra. The girl yelped in pain. A faint line of red formed above her belly button where Gretchen nicked her. The same had already been done to Jenna’s skirt, leaving her naked save a patch of her torn panties on her crotch.
“You,” Gretchen said as she reclaimed the marker. Jenna squirmed, arms bound over her head in rope, while her legs kicked futilely under Ashley’s body, “Are going to walk out of here. Don’t worry about that. But I need to make sure everyone knows what a stupid, little shit you are.”
Jenna released several muffled sounds, incapable of forming words around the remains of her skirt, though her intent was clear. She wanted this to stop. She was sorry. She wouldn’t do it again. Gretchen remained ignorant. To her, those sounds were pleas for help, a noise she savoured.
Zoey stood in a corner facing Gretchen. Rachel was on lookout, since the proceedings were certainly assault. Any of them could call the police. A few pictures of evidence, combined with Jenna’s testimony and Gretchen would be in deep trouble. The bitch wouldn’t even know which of them it was. Zoey dug her nails into her palm and shook.
If so, then why didn’t she do it. What was stopping her? The idea of loyalty to Gretchen was a joke in itself, if given the chance she or Rachel would gladly throw her under the bus. It wasn’t out of the hope that she might change her ways. Zoey hadn’t seen anything different to what she saw now, nothing but a vindictive slut, as it had been since they met. Only Mary had reigned her in. She was gone now, leaving Gretchen’s malice unchecked.
“Find anything good yet, Ashley?” Gretchen giggled as she scribbled on the girl.
“She’s got a boyfriend,” Ashley answered.
“Wow,” she sounded genuinely impressed, “Is there a phone number?”
“I’m gonna give him a call. Maybe he can stop by? Then you can watch,” Gretchen turned her full attention back to Jenna, whose upper body was debased in terrible words and doodles, “As I rock his fucking world.”
Jenna jerked at that. Her head lurched forward and connected with Gretchen’s chin. Zoey stared in shock as the queen bee snapped her head back into place, similarly stunned, before clenching a fist, rearing it back and letting it fly.
“Bad move, retard!” Gretchen snarled and let loose a second punch. Jenna’s nose broke and her cheeks were red and swelling, while tears streamed from her eyes.
“Stop it!” Zoey shouted. Gretchen’s fury turned on her. She stood and rushed over, fist at the ready and murder in her eyes. She swung and Zoey side-stepped, grateful for her natural athleticism. The rapid escalation to Gretchen’s behaviour meant nothing to her. Drunk or sober, Gretchen could change at the drop of a hat. Faster when her mood was already foul.
“You stupid shit! What makes you think you can say that to me?!” Gretchen demanded and grabbed at Zoey. She caught her collar and yanked close, “You’re so fucking worthless, you know that? Look, I don’t even have to hit you. You’re pathetic. You always will be. So shut the fuck up and watch like a good bitch. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you take a piss later. I own you.”
What gave her the right? Bullies existed in every school, some bordered on psychopathic, but they could be controlled to some extent. For what reason did life see fit to gift this disgusting person with such freedom, to torture an innocent girl, to punch her, to claim ownership over someone? The thing about bullies, though, is that they always go too far. Someone fights back. No one had done so against Gretchen yet. No one was in as perfect a position as Zoey.
No cameras, no teachers, nothing to hold her back. Ashley wouldn’t help, and Rachel was more liable to assist her rather than Gretchen. Gretchen’s pride would keep her from letting slip how bad she was beaten. She wasn’t stronger than others. They just couldn’t do anything for fear of repercussion. None of their parents cared enough to get them into a new school, nor would they believe the stories about Gretchen.
Zoey could fulfil the student body’s wildest dream.
“That’s what I thought,” Gretchen spat, a glob landed on Zoey’s cheek, and shoved the girl away.
“You know something?” Zoey said, “I really, really hate you.” From the bottom of her heart, she did. Gretchen was the worst person she knew, not quite on the level as some people on tv, but horrible nonetheless. She matched Kim Kardashian for how shallow and terrible she was, yet, in most eyes and those of Zoey’s, she was hot. Scalding, even. The focal point of Zoey’s recent fantasies.
What she wouldn’t give to see her face covered in cum. But, for now, something thinner and crimson would suit her far better.
“Did I say you could talk?” Gretchen asked.
“Because of things like that. And this,” Zoey looked to Jenna’s bloodied face.
“What did I say?” Gretchen demanded and grabbed at her again. Zoey didn’t have any self-defence training, but she had a basic understanding of someone’s balance and how to disrupt it. She avoided the grab and kicked at Gretchen’s knee, forcing her down. Before the blonde could say anything, Zoey pushed her back and straddled her stomach. Her arm muscles tensed and rippled across her skin as they worked toward a single goal; Gretchen’s face.
The sensation of skin and bone on her fist was one Zoey hated. She’d experienced it several times before, when she was made to beat up someone Gretchen didn’t like, but this was new. It still felt awful. The way her arm vibrated on impact, the crack of bone on bone, the feeling of Gretchen’s cheek conforming around her knuckles. She could live without it, but not the absolute sense of relief and satisfaction she felt at the sight below her.
Gretchen didn’t move, stunned into submission. But it wouldn’t last.
Run. The thought finally reached Zoey’s nerves as she raced from the room. Rachel blurred past, before she was pushed away by Gretchen. Zoey was long gone, though. She found her class, where she should’ve been since that morning. How long had Gretchen kept her? She didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. So long as she had a place with witnesses, the blonde couldn’t do too much.
“It’s her!” Someone yelled. Zoey glanced to the source and saw Holly, sat atop her table surrounded by classmates. The teacher had a pair of headphones on, music blaring to mask the vapid conversations of the class as they read a book. All students turned their attention on Zoey, eyes boring into her skirt. One squinted, another tilted her head, as if trying to decipher a Rorschach Test.
“I don’t see it,” Another girl said.
“Hold on,” Holly said and strode up to Zoey.
“What’s…” Her skirt was flipped up. A gasp echoed through the room in a wave, before laughter roared to life.
“Told you!” Holly chortled above the others. Their joy caught the teacher’s attention, who turned to see Zoey shove her skirt into place.
Zoey didn’t stay to hear anything else. She fled into the hall, away from the gym and classroom, from the haunting laughs. Then she stopped and peered into another room. It was quiet, no more than the usual chatter. Sat beside a window was Carmen, desk vacant and gaze fixated on the gloomy clouds above. Zoey’s legs moved unbidden. If anyone noticed her, they said nothing. She stopped at Carmen’s desk.
“Hmm?” The honour student turned, “What’re you doing here?”
“I… I, uh…” Zoey’s shoulders shook. Her hand hurt, as did her legs. Her eyes stung and her nose threatened to drip. Stop it. This is good. You did what she said, she’ll be happy for you. “I punched Gretchen.” Carmen’s eyes widened. More words tumbled from Zoey’s lips before the beast of her mind could swallow them, “And… and I… I have to tell you something.”
A series of violent footsteps echoed from outside, “Later. You’d better hide.” Carmen said.
“Y-yeah,” Zoey sank down and folded herself under Carmen’s desk. While there, she recognised the fiery warmth that coated her. It soothed the shaking, stemmed the tears and dulled the ache in her hand. She glanced to Carmen and found her vision engulfed in her shapely legs. Zoey took a long breath, drawing in the honour student’s scent. Whether this sensation of peace was something unnatural, or a product of Carmen’s presence made no difference. It merely solidified something in Zoey’s mind.
She might be in love.