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TWINS IN LOVE

CHAPTER 66



Marie had gotten up earlier than Donna and I. She seemed to be more
excited about making a breakfast once again for a man going to work.

When she had most everything ready except the eggs, she came into our
room and sat between us. We had still been sleeping. It was only 6:30 AM.

The next thing my sleeping brain realized was that my cock was being
stroked softly. Donna's brain must have registered much the same as Marie
was also caressing and fingering her pussy at the same time. Both of us
waking to pleasant sensations at almost the same time. Marie was smiling
down at both of us.

Causing us both to moan and shake cobwebs out of our brains, Marie said
that we needed to get our morning fuck out of the way so I could be ready
to leave for work on time.

She stroked and massaged us for another minute, leaned over and sucked
my cock all the way down a couple times, and then got off the bed and left
for the kitchen again.

There was no choice in the matter as Donna and I smiled at each other.
Both of us ready to fuck now. Donna, seeing my hard cock standing up,
climbed on me this time, and we humped to an early morning wonderful orgasm
together.

After taking a quick shower, we dressed and went down to breakfast.
Marie was busy like a normal housewife, and had everything ready. It
seemed that she really needed to do all this.

"Men don't seem to be able to concentrate on their work if they have
full balls in the morning," She smiled.

"Oh, I'll just have to remember that mom," Donna laughed.

"I'm not complaining a bit, Marie." I smiled. "Pussy in the morning,
pussy at night makes a man...."

"PUSSY WHIPPED!" Donna finished.

Again, I kissed and caressed two women as I left for the first day at
this new job.

Paul was eager to see me and show me a cart of cumputers that I could
pick to work on. He had a similar cart next to a table he worked at.
Since our work tables were close together, we were able to talk without
yelling as we both finally got to work.

I mentioned about kissing TWO women as I left the house. He said that
he does too. "Yeah, Paul, but I make love with the mother AND the daughter
at home!" "So do I, " He laughed. "You mean....?" "Yep, I do Pam AND her
mother since I moved in there with them." "No shit?" 'Yep." "Her mom can
take more of my cock too." "You'd like her, Kenny. She just loves to
fuck." "Not bad looking either."

"Sounds like all the damn women in my family, Paul." "Every one of them
love it too."

"Well it IS different now that I make love with my own mother," He said.
"I know just how you feel. I still remember the very first time my mother
and me did it." "It seems that she's wanted to do me ever since I got
hardons that she was able to see."

"I agree Paul. It is a lot different making love with my own mom. She
really enjoys it all too."

"So does my mother." Its always so different when I fuck her, from the
others."

"Does it bother you at all?" I asked. "No, not any more. I was nervous
at first. Mom was ALWAYS hot. I was always trying to see her and she damn
well knew it." "I knew she deliberately let me see her often through the
years." "She always smiled when she saw me with a hard on." "Don't bump
into anything or you might break that, she would smile." "She saw me naked
in my room a few times and just smiled, but all of that was when that
bastard was still living with us."

"I used to hear him yelling at her a lot." "I smashed him in the mouth
once and I moved out shortly after that and never went back. I never
really knew all that the scum did to mom and Donna." "They never told me a
thing until after they moved out."

"I swear, if that bastard comes anywhere near them again, I kill the
fuck." He said it with meaning.

"I'll be glad to help Paul."

"Look, he said, Why don't you stop and meet Pam's mother after work.
Just have a beer before you go home? She's really nice."

"Yeah, maybe I will. I'll give Donna a call and let her know I'll be a
little late." Before the day was out, we each had two computers repaired
and ready for customers.

I began to like Paul more and more as a good friend. I felt he was
feeling the same way, by the things he was telling me.

We arrived at his place about fifteen minutes after leaving work. There
was Pam and her mother in the kitchen, both reaching to kiss him. He
introduced me to Pam's mother, Julie. Almost a carbon copy of Pam, I
thought. Beautiful and a nice rack of tits. Just like Paul said. Both
women were wearing shorts and light blouses. No bras either.

Her blue eyes were warm and friendly. Paul had gotten us all a beer and
we went out to the pool patio. "Staying for dinner Kenny?" Pam asked. "Oh
no hon. Donna and her mom will have it all ready when I get there." Julie
seemed genuinely interested in hearing about me and what was going on with
Paul's sister and mother at their house.

"From what I understand it was really bad for them," she said. "It was.
He beat them and all kinds of rotten things." I noticed Paul's face turn to
rage just hearing about the bastard, so I quickly changed the subject.

I invited them to our place for a pool party over the weekend. "They
don't wear suits over there mom," Pam laughed. "Everyone seems to like
walking around naked over there." "Well, she blushed, we do here too
honey....that is, when no one else is around."

Paul laughed. "It was fun, Pam, and you know it."

"Still, Pauly, I felt weird walking around all those people naked!"

Julie had gotten up to go for another beer for all of us. I was glad
that I had come. It gave me a chance to really know them better. I
guessed they were doing much the same with me.

It wasn't long after about half our beer was finished when Julie stood
and walked in front of Paul. She leaned and kissed him and pulled his
hands so he rose from the lounge.

Their arms went around each other and they kissed. I knew this was for
my benefit. After the kiss she took his hand and led him to the house.
"We'll se you both later," she smiled.

It left me with Pam and her smile at my amused expression. She got up
and moved closer to me and said, "We take turns with Paulie, Kenny." "Mom
and me take every other day and night with him." "Today is mom's day with
him."

I smiled. "Seem's to keep all of us happy and no complaints."

"We each have our own rooms. Paulie has the big master bedroom, and mom
and me have a little smaller rooms." On weekends, we both usually sleep
with Paulie in his bed, and mom and me both make love with him."

"Wow, I said." "Marie gave Donna and me her master room also. She
swapped with Donna. She comes in whenever though."

"Sometimes I just stay with Marie in her room for the night." "Donna and
I never argue or fight about it either. Just like you guys."

Pam stood now, and began to take off her blouse. She was smiling down
at me as her tits came into view.

I guess I'm not shy around YOU anymore Kenny. After all, we DID make
nice love together." "Would you like to join me in a swim?"

Now she was lowering her shorts and her beautiful trimmed pussy was
right in front of me. Standing there naked and waiting for my answer. I
pulled her closer and leaned to kiss her mound and listened to her moan
softly.

I stood and smiled at her. "Good idea," I said. I pulled off my shirt
and took off my shorts and jeans with one move. My cock was already half
hard looking at her beautiful nakedness.

She reached for my hand and we both jumped in the pool. We swam around
for several laps before meeting in the middle where she came close and
opened her arms to me.

She looked up at the bedroom windows in the back of the house. "They'll
be making love for at least another hour, before they come down to eat."
She smiled at me. She leaned her head back and came closer to me and
seemed to want me to kiss her.

I leaqned down and softly kissed her and wrapped my arms around her.
She pressed her hardened nipples into me and made them squirm around my
chest. Her tits were nice. Firm, large and perfect sized nipples to
match. I felt her tongue slide between my lips and she pressed her mouth
tight to mine as her hand went to softly caress my cock under the water.

She was making soft moans as she kissed me. Her tits still seeming to
grind softly into my chest.

My hands went down to her ass cheeks and I pulled her tighter. Feeling
my pressed up hard cock between us and against her mound. She was
attempting to hump at it.

Her kiss was still soft and loving as her hands held the back of my head
now. Her pussy still trying to force itself against my hard on.

"Make love with me Kenny, Please!" I pulled my head back and looked down
at her and smiled.

I led her to the side of the pool and helped her climb out. I was right
behind her. "Paul's expecting you and me to make love Kenny." "Him and mom
planned this to leave us alone like this for a while." "He knew I wanted
you again."

I smiled again at her and then kissed her. Her hands went to my cock
and she stroked me firmly with both hands. My hands caressed her tits and
nipples as we both kissed. Her hands felt nice as they massaged my cock. I
could feel her need. The quaking in her body.

Soon, I felt her begin to slide down and lick my nipples. Then kissing
her way, she finally ended up on her knees and stroked my cock as she
smiled up to me.

Both her hands stroking and cupping my balls as she lowered her mouth
and sucked the tip of my cock.

"OOOOOHHHHH Pam, that feels so nice." "I can taste some of your cum
drops already Kenny." Her smile was genuine as she looked up at me with my
cock in her mouth. I felt her hard nipples against my legs as she began to
slide her mouth up and down. It wasn't long before she was able to take my
entire cock into her throat and really began to suck me hard. Her fingers
softly caressing my sack and balls as she moaned with her own pleasure.
Several times she took me into her throat completely and then used her
tongue all around my shaft as she pulled up. I couldn't help but moan at
the pleasure she was giving me as I stood there in the setting sun.

"I enjoy sucking you Kenny. At least I can manage your size. Not like
Paulie's monster." "You do that so nice Pam." "I don't want to cum yet
honey." "OK Kenny, I'll stop when you say."

After another couple minutes, I was really getting near and I knew I
would have to stop her wonderful sucking. I pulled her up and kissed her.
I did taste myself on her lips. Her smile was really nice as I caressed
her tit and kissed her again. "That was really nice Pam."

"Your turn," I smiled.

I leaned and kissed her tits all over and then her nipples for a while
on my way to her pussy as she stood there. My hands went to her ass and I
pulled her pussy to my mouth and licked what I could reach in her slit.
Her hands on my head and her soft moans made it all the more nicer. I
licked over her clit area as my hands caressed her ass and lower back. Her
legs were spread for my mouth and tongue. I liked her taste. I felt her
shiver and knew she would be near if I kept at her clit. "Cum in my mouth
Pam. Let me taste YOU now hon."

"OOOOHHH Keny it feels wonderful." Her hips were pressing forward to my
sucking mouth.

I sucked the whole area of her clit into my mouth and ran my tongue over
and over it as she let go right there with her body trembling in my mouth
and hands. Her moans were louder as I tasted her juices flowing now.
Feeling her shaking and moaning as she was cumming excited me. My cock was
raging hard below.

My fingers spread her pussy wider and I pressed up hard to her inner
pussy to suck her hard. Two fingers inside her as I sucked and licked her.

It was a full minute of my sucking and finger fucking her before she
finally seemed to relax. I drank at least a full mouthful of her juices.

I pulled her down and laid her on the air mattress behind her. "Oh God,
Kenny, that was wonderful. You really took me Kenny. Oh God." Her body
was still shivering as she laid there. Her tits heaving now. Her pussy
wet and opening and closing in anticipation. I knelt between her legs and
asked her to guide my cock into her. I wanted her to share in the
excitement.

My hands went to the deck on the sides of her, as hers went to my cock
and pulled it up to her opening. Her knees were raised and her pussy
soaked with her juices as she urged herself up for me to push into her.

I shoved hard this time. All the way in, in one push. I was completely
buried into her warm wetness and feeling her cervix with he tip of my cock.

"OOOOHHH Kenny. Oh God.!" "You're all the way up in me again. OH God.
OHHHH It feels so good Kenny." She moaned so softly. Her eyes were
fluttering and her hair was spread our in an arc behind her. Her arms
reaching for me to bring me closer to her now as I felt her pussy clamp and
caressin my entire cock length inside her tightness. It really was tight.

I felt to her chest as she pulled me tightly and pleaded for me to stay
there. Stay deep in her like this.

I raised my head and kissed her and then ground my hips over and over
her pussy, keeping my cock fully inside her. "Oh God Kenny. It feels so
nice, so heavenly." "Remember you're only the second man ever to be in
there Kenny. Paul has never been up where you are now honey. No one."

"Oh Kenny, I love this, Thank you for coming over. Thank you for this,
Kenny."

I raised up and thanked her for being so nice, and allowing us to have
this pleasure.

"Anytime you want me Kenny.....Anytime."

"OOOOHHHH Your cock feels so nice way up there. Her hands were on my
arms as she smiled her pleasure up to me. I began to thrust softly in and
out of her now. Her eyes fluttered again. I could feel the hardness of
her clit area and deliberately scraped my cock so it would massage it as I
thrust into her.

Her moans were constant and soft. Her fingers digging into my arms as
she went into another orgasm. I fucked her harder now and forced it
sooner.

Her eyes closed tight as she squealed. I felt her pussy contracting and
clutching me hard as this orgasm overtook her. I rammmed and rammed and
then stayed tight and let her ride my cock the way she needed it.

I waiteed until she was just about down from this orgasm before I
quickly pulled out and rolled her over on her stomach. I pulled her hips
higher and plunged my cock into her soaked pussy once more. She let out a
loud moan as she felt me stab all the way into her pussy. I held her hips
up and fucked her with passion now. Feeling my cock really getting near.

She was bucking back at me, seeming to want more and more cock. Moaning
constantly. She felt wonderful around my cock and I was almost there.

I pushed her down on her stomach and reached under for her tits. I
cupped them and moaned into her ear that I was going to cum in her.

"OOOOHHH Kenny, go ahead. Fuck me. Fill me. Cum Kenny. I want it."
"I want to feel you cum deep inside me Kenny."

Her pussy was massaging my cock on the inside as I let out a moan and
stiffened. Her pussy pushed up tight to me and stayed there as she felt me
cumming in her. Fucking me, as she felt my spurts deep at the back wall of
her pussy. Both of us moaning. My cock as deep as I could ever get in a
woman as I emptied myself in her wet warmness.

Feeling and hearing her go yet into another orgasm herself as my cum
spurted and her pussy throbbed and caressed. It was at least a full minute
before I could really regain my senses. Not realizing how hard I had been
squeezing her tits in my hands all through my cum. I freed my hands and
felt her body loosen now. My cock still buried deep inside her as I kissed
her neck and shoulders. Both of us needing quick breaths.

"OOOOHHH Pam, I really came hard. You felt so wonderful inside. So did
I Kenny. Please stay in there for a while. Please."

Her pussy was still contracting and caressing my cock as she panted. My
hands back on her hanging tits.

I pumped her with my cock until I finally went completely soft and
withdrew. Her head was still in her arms as she asked to let her suck me
right now. "I want to suck you now Kenny. I want to taste you right now
with both of us on your cock. I want to taste and suck the cock that just
made me cum so nice, so many times, Kenny." "Please."

I whispered OK in her ear and then kissed her neck once more before
kneeling. Still between her legs. She rolled over and beads of sweat were
all over her. Swinging her leg to my other side and then scooted herself
up to my cock.

"OOOOHHH Kenny, it was wonderful. I loved every second of it." "I want
to kiss your cock and suck it. I want to taste your cum and my own from
our lovemaking Kenny."

She quickly swung her legs and was half kneeling as she reached for my
half hard glistening cock and swallowed it into her mouth once again. Her
sucking was harder, demanding, and wonderful as she completely drained
anything that was in my balls. I smiled down at her own smiling eyes as I
watched my cock go in and out of her mouth. I felt the strain of her
sucking into my lower groin and it was a completely different feeling. I
leaned back on my bent legs as she moved higher and really stroked and
sucked. My complete cock once again in the back of her throat and being
pleasured.

Her moans and my own filling the quiet air around us.

There was no way I was going to cum again, and I knew it, but this
pleasure was wonderful on my softening cock. I decided to let HER realize
it and let HER feel that much more complete with what she needed. Right
now, it was my cock in her mouth.

I looked down over her beautiful firm body as I let her finish. Her
soft curves to her rounded feminine cute ass. I was determined if there
was a next time, I would fuck that ass I was looking at.

Finally, after another minute, she seemed to have her fill and raised
her head from my cock. I took her hands and we both stood. Both of us
kissing softly. Our bodies pressed tightly and both of us knowing we had
just pleased each other fully.

"It was wonderful Kenny." "Yes it really was, Pam. I really came hard
this time." I felt you Kenny. So very deep inside me. It made me cum all
over again."

"I felt it Pam. I felt you cumming with me that last time." My hand was
cupping her tit softly as we spoke. She looked down and watched my fingers
as I caressed her tit.

"You want more of me, Kenny?" "Oh No, hon. I'm spent for quite a while
now. I told you, I really came hard this time." She smiled.

We both eased back to a lounge behind me and she sat across my lap.
Thankful for the Ice Bucket to cool our drinks nearby.

"Ohhhh God, Kenny. You're the only one to be that deep in me. It
really makes me full and so excited to feel you in there."

"I go to the doctor tommorrow morning Kenny. The one that will try to
make me larger inside for Paulie." "I hope YOU'LL fit in me afterward????"
She moaned.

"I will hon, I will."

I leaned forward and kissed her again and said that I needed to get
home. My hand on her tit as we kissed. Her hand covering mine.

"I'll be thinking of this tonight Kenny, while mom and Pauly are in his
room making love, I will be thinking of this." My hand went down to caress
her pussy slit as I kissed her once more and then we rose.

I enjoyed this a lot, Pam." "So did I Kenny. I like the way we're able
to talk like this too." "You make it easy to trust you Kenny." "I'll be
nervous but glad to come to your party this weekend. IF you and Paul stay
near me for a while?"

"Sure hon, Sure. After a while, it won't even bother you that we're all
naked and even yourself." Sure we all take looks at one another, play and
touch each other all the time, but you'll get used to our family hon."
"Just like you and your mom do here with Paul." "It will almost always be
just my dad, Pauly and me around anyway hon." "None of us force anything on
anyone, EVER."

Again I was caressing her tits as I spoke. Her back was to me and she
was encircled in my arms. "I sure would like to be able to make love with
you again Friday night at the party, Pam." "OOOOHHH, so would I Kenny. Can
we?" I mean,....without anyone getting jealous or mad?" Sure hon. Just
wait and see."

"Maybe my dad will want you....That is, if you would like to be with
HIM?, BUT, you might have to hurry before one of my sisters stake him out."
Her arms went around my neck and she leaned up to kiss me once more.
"We'll see how it goes, OK?"

"Sure hon." "My dad's a great guy. Really. "You'll like him Pam, when
you get to know him a little better."

I was now dressed again but she stayed naked. I want to swim some more
after you go Ken."

I looked at her nakedness. There was no pretense of her hiding it to
me. She seemed genuinely happy to let my eyes travel over her nakedness
now. So pretty. So well proportioned like Donna. Their tits almost the
same sizes I thought, but Pam's nipples seemed somehow a little puffier,
bigger.

I leaned once more to kiss and suck them softly, as if not wanting to
leave. Really, I didn't, but knew I had to. Her hands caressed my head as
I held up her tits and sucked each nipple softly. Then I slid my hand and
fingers up and down her wet slit just one more time. She pressed herself
to my hand, enjoying my last minute caress.

One more kiss, and I finally left.

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MIKE AND LILY NAKED IN SCHOOL PART ONE MONDAY

CHAPTER ONE LILY

Shit, hell, and damnation.

I had come into school on the Monday of my most important week since I
came to Westport High, and I got called down to the office.

And I knew what it was. The Goddamn Program.

I'm Lily Woodard. I had only been in Westport since Christmasand it
was the end of March, so it hadn't been that long. We moved here from the
Boston areawhere, at my school, I had been Big Chick On Campus. Being
uprooted in the middle of my junior year was no fun, but Dad got a great
job opportunity here that he couldn't turn down. I understood.

But I was a nobody here at Westport. You move in midyear, and nobody
knows you. The friendships and the little clubs and the cliques had all
been formed, and you were on the outside looking in.

That was fine. I knew who I was, what I was capable of. I knew I'd
have my chance to shine. And that chance started this week. But not if I
was going into The Program!

Look, I have nothing against The Program. When I came to Westport, and
heard about it, and read the brochures, I thought it was a neat idea. We
didn't have anything like it in my old school. Now, don't misunderstand
me, Boston's always been a pretty liberal place, and with the recent
loosening of society's mores, it's a really liberal place. Walking past
two people fucking on Boston Common in the middle of the afternoon isn't
unheard of. And you'd occasionally stumble past a mad boinking on the
grounds of my old school. But they didn't have anything specifically like
The Program there.

And, like I said, I thought it was a great idea. I'd seen how it
worked. I had the program director, Ms. T, for biology first period, so
any time we had a participant in class, I'd see how it worked. I even got
asked to give one of my clates some relief one morning, which I gladly
did, and thought it was fun. I'm not a prude, nor am I ashamed of my body.
I've had sex, enjoyed it, and can't wait to do it again. And I wouldn't
mind at all participating in The Program.

But not this week.

Which is what I tried to explain to Mr. Tilling, the principal.

"Look, Mr. Tilling, I'm not asking to get out of this, at all! I want
to do The Programjust not this week! All I'm asking for is a
postponement."

"Lily, the only acceptable excuses for postponement are illness, or
something important that's going to keep you out of school for most or all
of the week."

"What about a very important school activity that I can't do in the
nude?"

"What can't you do in the nude?" he asked.

"Throw a baseball. Tryouts are this week for the team. I'm planning on
trying out. I'm a pitcher. And I've never tried to pitch in the nude, and
I don't see how I can do it with these things flapping around!" I poked at
my boobs.

"Baseball? You? A girl has never played baseball at Westport High."

"So, I'll be the first. I pitched for my old school. Varsity. Both
years, that includes freshman year. I'm good, and I aim to prove it. But
I can't see how I can do that if I can't at least wear a sports bra during
tryouts to retain these things."

"Sorry, Lily. No sports bras. Look, this is a highlevel baseball
team. The competition in our conference is incredible. Why don't you try
softball, instead? That's next week."

"Because I don't play softball, I play baseball!"

Just then, the door opened. A guy walked in. I didn't know him, but
I'd seen him around school. "Hey, Mr. Tilling," he said. "Don't tell me,
let me guess. The Program?"

"The Program. And this is your partner. Lily Woodard, Mike Kirkland."
He came over to me, big smile, and shook my hand. I forced a smile and
shook back.

"OK, you two. Let's go. Off with everything."

Damn. He wasn't going to let me off the hook. Damn his stupid
rulesand damn his prejudices. This was because I was a girl.

Look, I didn't expect smooth sailing. I knew there'd be resistance. I
was luckythe guys on my old school's team were largely guys I'd played
with since Little League. I didn't have to prove anything to them, because
we moved right up the ladder together. But girls playing baseball past
Little Leagueespecially with the explosion in softball programswas a
novelty. But I figured I'd prove myself. Until this.

I stripped off my clothes in a huff, rolled them in a ball. I
practically threw them at Mr. Tilling. I stormed out of his office. The
other kidMikewas right behind me.

The usual crowd of gawkers was out in the halls, clapping and cheering.
I knew the rules. They were going to watch. If they were going to grope,
I had to let them. But the crowd must have picked up the waves of
frustration rolling off me, because they pretty much kept their distance.

Mike caught up with me. "Hey, you seem really upset with this."

"It just completely fucked up my life."

"Ah, it's not so bad. I think it might even be fun."

"Easy for you to say," I snorted.

"Look, if there's anything I can do...."

"You want to do something? Fine. Can you rustle me up a damn catcher?"

"A catcher."

"Yeah, a catcher. You know, baseball?" I said snidely. "I have to try
out tomorrow, and now, because Mr. Tilling is an asshole, I have to do it
in the nude. And I've never pitched in the nude before, and I need to
practice it, tonight, because I have no idea if I'm going to be able to
snap off my slider with these fucking things bouncing around!"

I could see his eyes bouncing rapidly from my face to my boobs. "Yeah,
I can see why that might be a problem. They're not...er...insubstantial,"
he stammered. OK, I admit it, I stifled a giggle. It was cute.

"Anyhow," he continuedeyes now locked right on my face, which was
cuter"I have the answer to your problem. Starting catcher, varsity, and
that's last year, too. For a Sophomore, around here, that's quite a coup.
I can catch you."

"Really?" It was the first thing that had gone right since I had gotten
out of bed.

"Really. We can do it after school."

"Oh, Mike, that's great. Thank you. Shit, I don't know if I want to do
it here, though. If I'm having trouble, I'd rather not do so out on the
field, before tryouts, where there might be people watching. Word gets
around. And I'm going to face enough prejudice."

"Prejudice?"

"As I was just informed, a girl has never played baseball at Westport
High."

"Ah. Well, anyway, the field is no problem. We can do it at my house.
I've got the whole set up, regulation mound, plate sixty feet six inches
away, the whole bit. We've even got lights if it gets dark. All the guys
come over to my place to throw."

"Really? Oh, that'd be great."

"Sure. How do you get here? My place is in walking distance, that's
how I get here."

"Oh, I drive. We live a couple miles away. I'm in Lot C. We can head
over there after we meet at the entrance."

"Sounds good. Got your glove?"

"I'm a baseball player, what do you think?" We both laughed. "It's in
my locker."

"Great. See you after school, then."

CHAPTER TWO MIKE

Going into the program was no surprise. I looked forward to it.

Now, it wasn't the greatest week for me, either. Though I didn't have
to try out, I did have to be there at tryouts to catch the pitchers. Well,
at least I could wear the cup, shinpads, chest pads, and mask. Those are
"protective equipment," not clothes, so they're allowed. Plus, we had a
game Friday night, so I'd have to be nude for that, too.

So, I could use my little session with Lily to try catching with no
clothes on, so that worked out. I was guessing the chest protector was
going to itch like hell. Ah, well.

Lily. I thought about her quite a bit that day. A chick pitcher, huh?
Well, she obviously thought she could throw. We'd find out. She seemed
quite serious about this.

Shit, though, she didn't look like any pitcher I'd ever caught. She was
gorgeous. She had dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, a cute little pug
nose. She was tallhad a couple inches on me, actually. And she was built.
Oh, yeah, her bust, of coursebut not just that. I noticed when she was
walking nude in front of me that her thighs were like tree trunks. And her
ass had a woman's curvesbut I saw the muscles clench up in it and they
were prominent. From the waist up, she was all girlexcept for her right
arm, which did look like it had hurled a few fastballs.

And, OK, yeah, she had boobs. Rather large ones.

Anyhow, I went through the day. It was fine. I got groped a little,
that was fine. I didn't have to ask for relief, because I was pretty
mellow about the whole thing. Didn't mind doing so if I ever felt the
need, but I was OK. All right, I admit itsomebody in the girls' locker
room at gym jerked me off to an orgasm. Which might have been one of the
reasons I didn't have to ask for relief.

The day got through, and I went to the exit where Lily and I were
supposed to meet and put our clothes back on. She was there waiting for
me, glove and clothes in hand. "Hey," I said.

"Hey. Ready to go?"

"Just let me get my clothes." I didand had to catch up with her, as she
was already heading for her car.

We got in and I gave her directions to my place. She drove, not saying
a word. Halfway there, I realized she had been moving so fast that I never
did actually get dressed. Ah, well, whatever. I did say I was mellow
about the whole Program. I was raised pretty liberally, never had any
problems with nudity or sex or any of that. So, you know, whatever. It
was fine.

"This is it," I told her. She pulled up front. "Come on in. I've got
to go get some equipment. Come on in, meet my Mom."

She smiled, rather blankly, then it hit her. "Your Mom! Oh, shit, I'm
sorry, MikeI was in such a hurry I didn't even give us a chance to get
dressed. Here, let's throw this stuff on before we go in."

"What's the point?" I laughed. "You're just going to have to strip
before you pitch, aren't you? And I will, too, because I have to catch at
tryouts and want to practice, since I have to be naked this week, too.
Forget the clothes."

"But...your Mom..."

"My Mom is cool," I laughed. "She's a child psychologist. Has her
office right in the house, see that other entrance over to the side?
That's her office. She schedules her appointments so she's done before I
get off school. Anyhow, Mom says that, because of her job, she has seen
everything and anything, and at least twice. And she says the worst thing
you can pass off on a kid is repression and guilt. This is a very
openminded house. She won't get fazed in the least about us walking in
like this."

"Well, OK. If you say so." We got out, and went in.

"Mikey, is that you?"

"Yeah, Mom. Come on out and meet my friend." She came on out, and I
introduced them. "Mom, Lily Woodard. Lily, Elsbeth Kirkland."

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Kirkland."

"Please, call me Ellie." Mom looked at me. "So, I take it The Program
hit this week? What, do they make you come home from school naked, too?"

"Nah." I explained the situation.

"Oh, yeah, I can see where that might be a problem," Mom said. "So, you
guys want some Coke or something before you head out there?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," I told her. We sat down at the dining room
table.

"Yes, please," Lily said.

Mom went to get the stuff, and Marina came down stairs. She walked over
and gave me a kiss.

"Hey, Mikey. You looking pretty good."

"I bet you say that to all the guys," I teased her. "Marina, this is
Lily. Lily, Marina."

"Nice to meet you." They shook hands. She asked what was up, so we told
her what was going on. "Cool. Well, Lily, you're in good handsthis boy
can catch. Have fun. Mikey, where's your mother?" she asked me.

"Kitchen," I told her. Marina went to find her. "Marina is Mom's
partner," I told Lily.

"Oh. Your mother is gay?"

"Well, technically, she's bi. I was actually created in the traditional
way," I laughed, "by your basic manandwoman rutting. Though Mom and my
father were never married, and he disappeared shortly after the 'blessed
event'. So she's bi, and says she can love men and women, but I think
she's happier with women. I've seen both, and she's happier with women.
And it's been a while since I've seen her with a guy, because she and
Marina have actually been together six years now. Marina's great, she
really is a second Momand they're great together. If this assbackwards
state ever got around to legalizing gay marriage, I think they'd consider
it."

Just then, Mom and Marina came back in with the cokes. We sipped them
for a while, chatting about nothing in particular. Then I said, "Well, we
should get out there soon. Let me go upstairs and strap on the ol' tools,
and grab my mitt. Be back down. Entertain her, eh?" I asked Mom and
Marina. They just chuckled. And I headed upstairs to get my stuff.

CHAPTER THREE LILY

So, there I was, sitting stark naked chatting to two women I didn't
know. Two gay women, mind you. Was I uncomfortable?

No, I wasn't, actually. I was raised pretty openmindedly myself. I
like to think I'm openminded. Every so often, though, you find yourself
being tested.

The thing is, I liked them instantly, especially Mike's mom, Ellie.

"So, you play baseball?" she asked.

"Yeah, played at my old school. We just moved here a few months ago
from Boston. I really want to make the team here. I'm encountering
prejudice already, and now I'm at a disadvantage."

"We know all about prejudice," Ellie said. "Marina and I, you see, are
together."

"Yeah, Mike told me," I smiled at them.

"And even in this newfangled, sexual freedom, no inhibitions,
everything's great worldit still exists. It's better, but it still
exists. People take the whole 'whatever makes you happy' attitude, or so
they say, but it still creeps in, especially when it comes to assumptions."

"The one she gets," Marina said, "is that a lesbian can't possibly raise
a son. I mean, a son needs a man, right?"

"I always say that I can relate to my son as well as any guy," Ellie
replied. "I mean, what do fathers talk about with their teenaged sons,
anyway? Girls, right? I can do that!" I cracked up laughing at that.

"The one I get is the exact opposite," I told them. "Because I'm in a
sport that is traditionally and overwhelmingly male, I must be a complete
butch lesbian, right?"

Ellie giggled. "I take it you're not."

"No, I'm straight," I told them. "But girls who play guy's sports can't
be straight. Especially if they're good at them."

"I take it you're good," Ellie said.

"I'm very good," I grinned. "But, yeah, I must be lesbian because I'm
not 'feminine' enough. Which is bullshit. It's bullshit in general,
because who says lesbians can't be feminine; and it's bullshit personally,
because I can gussy up as well as any girl. I just don't do it on the
baseball field. But I can change from sweat and dirt and eyeblack to
makeup and styled hair and a slinky dress so fast it'd make your head
spin." I sighed. "Of course, walking around school naked isn't going to
make that easier. The other thing that I get is that straight girls can't
have muscles, and I have them. And, walking around nude, I can't hide
them. The guys get a load of my thighs and butt and that just gives them
another reason to think I'm butch or something."

"Honestly, Lily," Ellie said with a smile. "I don't think the boys who
see you like that are really going to notice your muscles. At least not at
first. There's a couple other things you can't hide."

I blinkedand then laughed. "Oh, you mean these two things that are
going to get in my way when I try to throw my curveball?"

"Yes, those two things. I think those'll get you noticed before the
thigh muscles," Ellie said.

I snorted out a giggle. "Earlier today, your son called them 'not
insubstantial.' While he was desperately trying not to look at them. And
failing miserably, I might add. It was actually rather cute." We all
laughed. Just at that moment, Mike came down, gear on, mitt in hand.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Don't ask. Trust me. Don't ask," his Mom told him.

"Whatever," he stared at us. "Damn females, always talking where a guy
can't hear," he muttered, which made us laugh even harder. He turned at
the doorway from the dining room and the kitchen and stared at me. "Well,
Pedro, you gonna come throw, or what?"

"Oh, he just wormed his way into my heart," I told the ladies. "He
called me Pedro."

"Martinez," Ellie told Marina. "Best pitcher around, plays for the Red
Sox." She turned back to me. "I know my baseball," she told me.

"Well, she did grow up in Boston," Mike said.

"And I am a member in good standing of Red Sox Nation. And Pedro's my
idol." I got up out of the chair. "You can tell me if my changeup is as
good as his." I said to Mike.

" Nobody's changeup is as good as his."

"True story. Though mine's pretty good." He led me outside. It was a
nice setup.

"OK, Pedro, climb the hill and let's see what you got. Nice and easy,
at first. Just warm up." He crouched behind the plate, and I got on the
mound. I threw a few easy ones.

"Hey, don't blow yourself out, huh?" he called. "Nice and easy."

"This is nice and easy," I said. I threw a few more.

"What, are you trying to impress me?"

"Not yet," I grinned at him. I threw a few more.

"OK, fine," he said. "If that was nice and easy, fine. You should be
warmed up. Fire one in here, full throttle." I wound up and threw the
heater, nice and hard.

"YEAOWWW!" he hollered, and then looked down at his catching hand.
"Shit! That must have been 90!"

"Yeah, that's about right. I'm usually at about 90. I hit 93, 94 on
the gun every so often."

"You throw ninety miles an hour?" He stared at me. Then he took off his
mask, and looked down at the ground. He seemed upset. "I'm a jerk. I'm
as prejudiced as everyone else." I looked at him, totally confused. "This
is my junkballer's mitt," he said, pointing to his catcher's mitt. "We
have a guy on our staff, Frankie Gutierrez, who doesn't throw anything past
65. Knuckleballs, soft sinkers, you name it. But his ball really dips and
weaves, and the catcher's got to be agile. So I use this mitt for him,
because it's lightweight and flexible and it helps me keep up with his
fluttering knuckleballs and dying quails. But it's got very little
padding." He looked even more upset. "And I just grabbed it, without even
asking you, because I just assumed that you were a junkballer. I mean, a
girl can't throw hard, right? I didn't even ask. I just assumed. Serves
me right to get my hand blown away by a ninety mile an hour heater." He
looked up at me. "I'm sorry. I'm an asshole. I'm going to get my other
mitt." He was gone back in the house before I could say anything.

I suppose I should have been upset with him for making that assumption
in the first place. But how could I be upset with someone who was so
contrite about it? And was absolutely adorable while doing it?

He came back out, still visibly upset with himself. So, I smiled and
said, "Apology accepted. And you're not an asshole." He flashed me a
little smile, and then put his mask back on.

CHAPTER FOUR MIKE

It was not going well. We had been at it for a while, and it was not
going well at all.

OK, I admit it. I was wrong. Wrong, wrong, stupid, and wrong. What an
asshole. This girl could throw. She had five pitches, and her changeup
was a thing of absolute beauty. Nobody's in Pedro's league, but for a high
school kid? Fuck gender, for any high school kid to throw a 70 mph
changeup that looks just like her 90 mph fastball? That's a rare thing.
She had two different fastballs, a hard slider, a soft curve, and the
changeup.

But she was all over the place.

After watching the ball go everywhere except where it was supposed
toand after watching her get extremely frustrated, I stood up out of my
crouch, and flipped up my mask.

"Look, you can obviously throw, but you've got no command."

She glared at me.

"And you're wild as shit."

She really glared at me.

"I take it that these are not normal problems for you?"

"I pitched 85 innings last year and walked twelve."

"Twelve?" That was unbelievable.

"Twelve."

"How many K's?"

"A hundred and two."

My eyes bugged out of my head. "You had a strikeout/walk ratio of a
hundred and two to twelve?"

"Told you I could pitch," she said.

"Well, something's obviously wrong today." I figured I knew what it was.
"It's the boobs?"

"It's the boobs," she confirmed. "They get in the way of my release
point, they get in the way of my followthrough. And they're damn
distracting."

"Yeah, distracting, I'll agree with that," I blurted, then got
embarrassed when I realized what I said. But Lily just laughed.

"Don't get too distracted, I'm so wild I might take your head off."

"Nah, my reflexes are fine," I said. I walked out to the mound. "There
must be something we can do. Shit, it's not fair. And look at me, look at
all the shit I've got on, and you've got nothing."

"But that's 'protective gear', not clothes."

"I know." Then I blinked. "Hey. Wait a minute!"

CHAPTER FIVE LILY

"What?" I asked him.

"Hold on, hold on, give me a minute." He was staring off into space.
"Here. Come inside with me." He headed off towards the house. When he got
to the dining room table, he said "Sit," and pointed. I sat. His Mom and
Marina were sitting in the living room in a couchthe living room and
dining room were one big room. Mike went over to a pile of papers on a
small table in the corner. He ruffled through them, muttering, "Come on,
come on, I know it's in here." His mother gave me a quizzical look. I just
grinned and shrugged my shoulders.

"Got it!" He came over to the table. He had the brochure for The
Program in his hand. I was completely confused. He sat next to me and
started thumbing threw it. "OK, OK, I know it's in here....here!" He
started reading. "OK. Students in athletic competition, can't wear
uniform or undergarments, yadda yadda yadda.....yes! Here it is!
'However, students in athletic competition may wear any padding, gauze, or
tape considered necessary by the student for protection. This includes
cups, protective padding, and helmets. This also includes taping and
bandaging of any injuries, or other taping, as in a football player taping
an ankle for stability.' THAT'S IT!" He bounced out of his chair. "Wait
here!" He excitedly ran up the stairs.

" What is he doing?" I said.

His mom and Marina laughed. "Lily," his mom began, "it is my experience
that when Mikey gets a brainstorm, it is best to just let him go with it."

"OK." He came tearing down the stairs, a whole pile of shit in his hand.
He dumped the shit on the table. From within the pile, he withdrew a
large, wide, ace bandage.

"See?" he said. "We'll tape 'em!"

I looked up at him, and my eyes widened. "Oh, damn, Mike, that is a
good idea!"

He laughed. "Stand up." I did, and he started wrapping the bandage
around my boobs. "Tell me if it's tight enough or too tight." I did, and
he worked at it and got the tightness right. "OK, now move around. Do a
windup or something. See if it's stable enough."

I did so, and it was stable enough, but....... "Is it tight enough?" he
asked.

"Well, yeah, it's plenty tight enough, nice and stable, but there's
another problem." I swatted at the bandage. "This material. It's like
sandpaper. And it's rubbing up against my nipples. Ow, ow, and ow."

"Oh." Mike looked crestfallen. Then he looked back at the table. "Wait
a minute. Come here." He unwrapped the bandage and took it off me. "OK,
sit." I did. He took a square gauze bandage out of the pile, and applied
surgical tape around the edges. "I know this is going to hurt like a bitch
coming off, but at least it'll let you pitch." He took the gauze and placed
it right around my nipple, so it was covering it. Then he pushed and
prodded and worked at it to make sure it stuck.

Oh, shit.

Pitching. Pitching. Concentrate on pitching, Lily, concentrate on
pitching. And then he was doing the other one. Pitching. Pitching.

Shit. Who ever knew catchers had such gentle hands? Damn, I'd been
touched before, but fuck. And this was when he was being clinical!

"Ok, that should hold. Stand up," he said. I managed to do so, don't
ask me how. He then wrapped the ace bandage back around me. I calmed down
a littlethank goodnessand he told me to walk around and do a windup and
stuff.

ZING! Well, this wasn't going to work, that was plainly apparent.
"Well, it's not painful, I'll say that," I told him with a little grin.
"But I think the gauze is a little too...well....stimulating."

"Oh," he blushed.

"Yeah. I wouldn't want to leave a puddle on the pitching rubber by the
third inning," I grinned at him. Oh, I got a nice blush from him for that
one. Ellie and Marina were giggling behind us.

"OK. Let me think. Let me think." He stood there for a minute. "Hey,
this might work. Mom? Marina? Either of you two have a bra that you
don't wear anymore? Even if it's ripped or broken or something?"

"Sure, I have one that I broke the shoulder strap on," Ellie said.
"It's sitting in the pile to be tossed out, but I still have it." She
grinned at her son. "You taking up crossdressing, Mikey?"

"Could you just go get the bra, please?" Mike asked her. With a giggle
she went to get it.

I wasn't sure where he was going with that one, but I just let him go
with it. He unraveled the bandage, and then pointed me to sit, then he got
the gauze off me. I suppose it hurt, having tape ripped off my boob, but,
honestly, I didn't notice.

Pitching, Lily. Pitching.

His Mom came down with the bra. He grabbed it, and held it up. It was
your basic, standard white bra. "I know sports bras tend to be less silky
than this, but do you think you could pitch in a bra made of this material
if you had to? I'm not talking about the restraint, I'm just talking about
the material."

"Sure," I told him. "I actually did it once. I ripped one sports bra
and my other was in the wash and it was fifteen minutes before game time,
so I pitched wearing a bra rather like that one. The lack of restraint was
a problem, but the material wasn't." I grinned at him. "You seem to know
an awful lot about bras," I teased.

"Look who I live with," he grinned, pointing at Ellie and Marina, who
chuckled. "And all their friends are female. I've been in gatherings of
twenty people where I'm the only guy. And all of them are open and
unguarded. I know more about girls than most girls. Hell, I'm so
surrounded by females I swear I get PMS by osmosis." I howled at thatas
did Ellie and Marina.

"Anyhow," he said, sitting down. He took the bra, and cut a little
square out of the cup material. OK, now I see what he was thinking. Damn,
that might work. He took the little bra square, put the tape on it, and
applied it to my boob.

I wonder if he noticed the little sigh that I couldn't help escape my
mouth.

Then he did the other onepitching, Lily, pitchingand had me stand up.
The ace bandage was quickly applied. I walked around and moved. And it
seemed OK. Hey, I could feel the little squaresand it wasn't an
unpleasant feelingbut it wasn't that bad. Since my tits were mashed into
me by the ace bandagewhich wasn't the most comfortable thing in the
worldit kind of balanced out. As long as they were out of my way, which
they seemed to be.

"I think this just might work," I smiled at him.

"Try it?" he said, grabbing his mitt. I nodded, and we went back
outside. He crouched behind the plate, and I got on the mound, wound up,
and threw the heater.

Strike fucking one. Right down the pipe. "Yes!" I shouted.

"Let's see that slider," he told me, and I ripped one off. It snapped
off, nice and tight, and went right where I wanted it to.

"Damn, what a slider!" he enthused.

"This is great. They're nice and out of the way, just like wearing a
sports bra," I said. I gave him my assortment of pitches, a couple of
each. Everything worked, just the way it's supposed to.

"Mikey, you're a fucking genius!" I shouted. He came out of his crouch
and took off his mask, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"We'd better shut it down, you don't want to wear yourself out before
tryouts."

"Yeah," I said. I walked up to him, and kissed his forehead. Got
another nice blush out of him. "Look, you're a sweetheart," I told him.
"I was an absolute bear to you earlier, and you've been nothing but sweet.
And you are a genius."

"Ah, it's nothing. And I know why you were a bear, you were frustrated,
understandably so. Besides which, I'm glad I could help. You're a good
kid. And, I have to say, I absolutely want that right arm on my team!"

"I want this right arm on your team, too," I smiled at him.

"Don't see how you can miss," he told me. "Come on, let's go inside and
get you undone."

I'm sure I could've taken off all the stuff myself. I didn't. I let
him do it. Pitching was done for the day, right? So, I let him put his
hands on my boobs and take the stuff off.

MmmmmmMMMMMmmmmmm!

My only problem was that he stopped!

Ah, well. I thanked him again, said goodbye to his Mom and Marina, and
headed home. I went in, chatted with my parents about my day, and went up
to bed and went to sleep.

OK, I admit it. I played with myself first.

Then I went to sleep.

End of part oneMIKE AND LILY NAKED IN SCHOOL PART TWO TUESDAY

CHAPTER SIX MIKE

I got up the next morning, ready for another day in The Program.

And ready for tryouts.

Got my stuff together, walked to school, and went to the entrance where
we had to disrobe. Lily was there, flashed me a big grin. We took our
stuff off, to the cheers of the crowd, did a little show for them. Then we
went in.

"Hey, meet me at lunch?" She asked.

"Sure. That'd be great."

We headed off, in different directions. I was quickly caught up to by
my best friend, Eddie Bauer. We've been best friends since first grade.
We've also been teammates since then. Eddie plays thirdhe and I were the
only sophomores who cracked the starting lineup in the varsity right from
the beginning of the year last year.

"So, Mike," he grinned. "Program week?"

"Yep. You'll get yours, sooner or later."

"Hey, it wouldn't be that bad," he said. "Maybe they'd buddy me up with
my own version of Amanda."

I laughed. Amanda Frazier was a friend of ours. When she got stuck in
The Program, the beginning of the year, they buddied her up with a guy
named Jared Wicklow. They'd been going out ever since. It was really
coolJared hung around with the group of us now, and everybody liked
themand those two were overthemoon in love. "Jared and Amanda is a
fairy tale," I told him. "Don't hold your breath."

"I truly believe there's somebody for everybody," Eddie intoned.

"If there iswell, your soulmate is, no doubt, in Latvia and you'll
never meet her," I teased.

"Latvia?"

"Latvia. Milking goats."

"Do they milk goats in Latvia?"

"I don't know. But, your soulmate, that's where she is. Milking goats.
In Latvia."

"Well, then, I guess I'm just going to have to apply to the University
of Latvia and major in goatmilking. So, what about yours? Your partner,
I mean. The new kid, eh?"

"Yep," I confirmed. "Lily Woodard. Good kid."

"Nice tits."

"There is that. Spent all evening with her last night," I told him. I
got a look I should've expected. "No, you sex maniac, not that. I was
helping her out. She's trying out, and didn't know if she could throw
naked. Turns out she can't, but we found a solution for that."

"Trying out for what?"

"The team."

"What team?"

"Our team."

"The baseball team?"

"What other team are we both on?" I grinned at him.

"The chick plays baseball?"

"'The chick' is a pitcher. 'The chick', by the way, throws ninety."

"No way!"

"Believe it. Hey, I found out the hard way. I figured the same thing,
before I saw her throw. So I went out there with the Frankie Gutierrez
mitt. She damn near broke my hand." He grinnedhe knew that mitt. "Trust
me, she throws ninetyand, once we got her boobs taped up and out of the
way, she throws ninety with movement and command. Oh, and her changeup is
Pedro Martinezesque. Oh, and her slider will buckle your knees."

"You're lying to me. You're lying to me, and I'm waiting for the
punchline," he maintained.

"No lie. I know it was only one workout, but she's the best pitcher
I've ever caught."

Ed was incredulous. "She's a girl!"

"Don't matter. Best I've ever caught."

"But you caught Freddie Millhouse last year!"

"Don't matter."

"But he got drafted! By the Dodgers!"

"Don't matter. She's better."

Eddie sighed. "You're serious. This I gotta see."

I grinned at him. "Tryouts are at twofifteen. I know you aren't
required to be there, but come on down. Prepare to get blown away."

CHAPTER SEVEN LILY

As I made my way through school that morning, I suppose I wasn't paying
much attention in class. I wasn't even paying much attention to being
naked, and being groped, and all that. Nope, I was thinking about two
things. First was the tryouts. I had expected to be thinking about them.
I had been expecting to be preoccupied by them. That was fine.

What I hadn't been expecting to be thinking about was Mike Kirkland.

But I was. A lot.

By the time I got to lunch, my brain was just fried. By tryouts. By
him. And, as I walked from the lunchline with my food, there he was,
waving at me.

I took a good look. I hadn't done thatI'd looked, of course, but I was
so preoccupied by my misery yesterday that I hadn't really looked, so I
did, as I walked toward him. He was squat and compact. Of course he was,
he was a catcher. But he was also builtmuscular legs, muscular torso and
arms. Nothing overwrought, you understand, but he was in fine shape. He
was hairy, decently so for a guy his age, on his legs especiallybut I
didn't mind hairy guys.

And, OK, yes, I certainly noticed the other muscle. And that looked
pretty damn fine, too.

But what really got meand what I had noticed, though somewhat foggily,
yesterdaywas his face. He had black hair, fairly long, a bit shaggy, just
perfect for running fingers through. His smile was slightly crooked and
totally endearing. And, the piece de resistancehis eyes. They were
easily the most gorgeous eyes I had ever seen on a guy. They were like
liquid pools of iridescent sapphire.

Oh, Jesus. When I start waxing poetic, you know I've got it bad.

I didn't get it. I'd known this guy a day. But, OK, yeah, I did get
it. I'm not one to dawdle on things. Look, he was sweet, kind, funny. He
was solicitous. Smartthe tape job was brilliant. He even had the class
to admit when he was wronglike the mitt incident yesterday. He didn't
just admit he was wrong, he berated himself over it. I can't possibly tell
you how attractive I find that. And, just as a kicker, we had the same
Number One Overriding Interest.

And that was the problem.

Guys do not go out with girls who can strike them out on three straight
pitches. I'd never dated a fellow baseball player. I knew better. As
long as the 'girl with the cannon arm' was one of the guys, a teammate,
everything was fine. Anything past that? Never. Raging male ego, here we
come.

Maybe Mike would be different.

Yeah, and if wishes were pigs, then I'd have some bacon.

But, dammit, I couldn't help it. He was so damn cute. And I couldn't
stop thinking about his hands on my boobs.

Shit, if I let my thoughts go down that path any farther, I'd be asking
for relief. Which I didn't figure was a good idea four hours before
tryouts.

Anyhow, I sat down with him, and we started chatting.

"Ready, Pedro?" he asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I said with a chuckle. "I just hope that tape
job holds."

"It will. You realize you're going to shock people, right?"

"I'm kinda counting on it. Hey, I can pitch. I know it. Pretty soon,
they're all gonna know it. Damn the prejudices."

"Did you get a lot of this back in Boston?" he asked.

"Actually, no, but I played with the same guys, mostly, right from
Little League. They all knew what I could do. But there are other
problems. I didn't have a long list of guys lining up for dates." Yeah, I
laid down a hint, I admit it.

"Guys. So, you are straight, then."

"Yes. Why, did you assume I wasn't?" I said indignantly.

"Didn't assume anything. Didn't know either way," he said mildly.
"When you grow up the heterosexual son of a bisexual mother and her lesbian
partner, you learn not to assume a damn thing."

"You're right," I smiled. "I'm sorry for snapping. I just get that
'you must be a lesbian' thing a lot. I had a nice talk with your mother
about it, actually, when you were upstairs getting your gear. Anyhow, it
gets tiring." I smiled. "And guys tend to get intimidated by a girl who
throws ninety."

"Aah. Well, the only time you intimidated me is when I had the wrong
mitt on."

I laughed. Fine, let's see where we stand. "I could strike you out on
three straight pitches," I challenged. "And you're not intimidated?"

"I hit .390 last year. I also led the team in RBI. I don't crank too
many dingersbut I'd take that heater of yours and drive a double in the
gap."

"Sure you would."

"If you make it through the cut todaywhich you will," he told me,
"tomorrow, they'll ask you to face live hitting. I can get up and take
some cuts if I want to."

"You're on!" I took a bite of my sandwich. "You really don't think a
girl who throws ninety is a freak."

" Any high school kid who throws ninety is a freak," he said. "But I'm
a baseball player. A girl who throws ninety is my kind of freak." I had to
laugh at that. "Though, I must admit, I think that a girl who throws
ninety is much more rare."

"Try pretty much unheard of," I said. "It's a physical thing. Girls
don't have the build for this. Girls have weaker arms. Also, a girl's
pelvic structure isn't designed for it. I don't have the biggest hips
around, but I do have hips. It makes it harder to get any torque from your
lower body. I have great technique, damn near perfect mechanics, which
helpsI work damn hard at my mechanics, I have to. I also overcompensate
by lifting weights like a madwoman."

"I noticed that your ass and thighs are like rocks. Your throwing arm,
too." he commented. I looked at him. "Well, you are nude. Awfully hard
not to notice."

"Yep," I admitted, "and that's another way to get guys to not line up at
your door. Have an ass and thighs that look like a guy's."

"Ah, I said they were muscular, I didn't say they looked like a guy," he
told me. "You've got a girl's ass. It's just not a particularly squishy
girl's ass." He blushed a little. "Well, as far as I can tell by looking,
anyway." Then I noticed the eyes, doing the whole
slidedowntotheboobsandjerkbackup thing. "Trust me, nobody with
functioning eyes would ever mistake you for a guy."

Damn, he was cute!

And, I admit it. I'm shameless. I moved so my boobs jiggled.
Noticeably.

THUNK! Down went the eyes. THWIP! Up they came back up again. I
could've made him sprain his eyeball if I had kept it up. He really was
adorable.

And he seemed accepting. Reasonable. Openminded. And maybe, just
maybe, even a little bit attracted to me. Dare I hope?

Well, anywayI had to put that on the back burner. I had to get through
tryouts first.

CHAPTER EIGHT MIKE

Damn. I really have to stop staring at her boobs.

It's difficult. It's particularly difficult when the boobs are naked.
It's especially difficult when said naked boobs are particularly fine, and
attached to a completely lovely restofthebody.

Muscles? I liked girls with a bit of muscle. Didn't have a problem
with it at all. And the rest of her was just fine. What particularly
grabbed me were her eyes. They always seemed to have a glimmer in them.

As for her personalityshe was delightful. I was just getting to know
her, mind you, but I liked what I saw. She was sweet, smart, funnyand
fiery. Deliciously fiery. I am not attracted to doormats. The one
'demure' girl I ever dated was the shortest relationship I've ever been
inand I'm the one that ended it. I couldn't stand it. Yeah, I'm sure
most guys wouldn't consider "I can strike you out on three straight
pitches" to be a comeon. I am not most guys.

And it seemed like she was dropping hints. I don't know. I am
absolutely shitty when it comes to reading that stuff. You think I'd be
able to read girls better, with the way I grew up. Not so. I don't know
if the lesbian mating dance is different than the malefemale mating dance,
or what. But I never learned to read females. Well, at least I've never
been able to read hetero females that I was interested in.

And I swear she caught me looking at her boobsand jiggled them!

Damn. I think I needed relief.

Anyhow, I was trying to read herand failing. Meanwhile, I am liking
this girl more and more every second.

We finished our lunch, said goodbye, and headed off to afternoon
classes. And I thought about her all afternoon. I wish I could read her
better. I wish I knew what she was thinking. Because I was in a special
situation hereand I couldn't even hint at anything, or ask her out, or
whatever, until I absolutely, positively knew that she wouldn't be offended
or hurt or anything.

No, I'm not usually that cautious. Hey, since I'm bad at reading girls,
I usually just pick out what I like and take a chance. Sometimes I get a
yes, sometimes I get a no, and that's fine. But we had a special situation
here. I'm her catcher.

You have to understand. Catchers have myriad responsibilities.
Throwing's important. Handling the mitt behind the plate is important.
Hitting's less importantlots of teams will put up with a catcher with no
stick if he handles the defense wellbut it's a nice bonus. But, to me,
the absolute most important part of a catcher's job description is his
relationship with his pitchers.

You have to guide them, support them. Sometimes you have to baby them.
Sometimes you have to kick them in the ass. You have to know what they
throw, how they throw it, and when to call it. You have to absolutely get
in their heads. It's a symbiotic relationship. And there has to be
absolute trust on both sides. You have a pitcher that doesn't trust his
catcher, you have a problem.

As for myself, I can throw, and I can handle the mitt. The hitting was
a bonuswhen I made varsity, no one knew I could hit that well, except for
mebut it was a good bonus. But the absolute first number one reason why I
made varsity, and started, as a sophomore was my relationship with my
pitchers. The pitching staff wanted to throw to me. That's why I made it.

Now, here I waswith this girl that I was increasing attracted tobut I
had to catch her. If she made the teamand she was going to make the
teamI was going to be her catcher, all year long. And my relationship
with herin the baseball sensewas new in itself. We'd need time to
develop the bond. And I was terrified that if I acted on my attraction
prematurely, I'd shatter that pitchercatcher bond. Which means she'd
resent me, not pitch as well as she was capable of, and we'd lose a whole
lot of games.

Damn, damn, damn. Why on earth couldn't she have been a shortstop?!?!?

Ah, well. I resigned myself. I wasn't happy about it, but I resigned
myself. I was her catcher. That was all.

CHAPTER NINE LILY

Damn, I was nervous. Really nervous.

I didn't hang around right at the field. I hung around on the
periphery. I spend a lot of time in a clutch of trees off the third base
line. Mike came up and helped me with the tape job. I was almost too
nervous to get turned on.

Almost.

Anyhow, I put that out of my head. He went down to the field, to take
his turn at catching, and I waited my turn. I hadn't put my full name down
on the tryout sheet, so, when they called my name, the manager just
bellowed out "L. Woodard!" I took a deep breath, and strolled out of the
trees and onto the field, and walked towards the pitcher's mound.

The murmuring started immediately. And the managerwho was standing
behind the pitcher's mound, so he could watch for break and movement and
thatbellowed, "Hey, there's a naked chick on my baseball field!"

"Excuse my attire, I'm in the program this week." I held out my glove
for the ball, which he was holding.

"What are you doing on my field, honey?" No ball was presented to me.

"It's my turn. I'm L. Woodard. Lily, actually." I tapped my glove.

He laughed. " You are trying out for my team?" No ball.

"No." I grinned at him. It wasn't a pleasant grin. "I'm not trying out
for your team. I'm making your team. Now gimme the ball." I think I
stunned him, because he finally gave me the ball.

"Hold it!" came a bellow from the stands. It was my biggest "fan", our
beloved principal, Mr. Tilling. "Lily, you're in the program. You're
covered up. That's a violation."

"No it's not." It was Mike, rushing out of the dugout. "It's legit.
That's not clothes, it's taping for stability. That's allowed." He walked
over to Mr. Tilling with a program brochure in his hand. "It's right
here." He pointed out the section and handed the brochure over to Mr.
Tilling. Mr. Tilling read the thing three times and had to admit,
grudgingly, that we were right. Very grudgingly.

Mike, bless him, walked over to the plate, and told the guy who was
behind it, "Hey, Brady, take a break. I'm going to catch her." Brady
shrugged and gave way. Mike grinned at me and bellowed to the pitching
coach, over at the third base line, "Hey, Muggsy, you got that radar gun
ready?" Then he looked at me and bellowed, "All right, Pedro, show 'em what
you got. Let's see the number one." I grinned and nodded, he slipped his
mask back on and got in his crouch, I wound up, and threw the fastball.

WHAP!

"HOLY SHIT!!" Muggsy, the pitching coach, was staring at the radar gun.
"That pitch was 87!"

"The gun must be on the fritz," the manager said.

"Was workin' fine a minute ago."

"Eightyseven?" Mike yelled out to me. "That one was a little off,
Lily. Let's really reach back and get one."

"'A little off?'" the manager moaned from behind me.

I stifled a giggle, reared back, and threw. Thwap!

"HOLY SHIT!" Muggsy. "That was ninetyone!"

"That's more like it," Mike yelled.

"You bet your ass," I yelled back. I threw a few more fastballs, all
hovering around 90, while Muggsy looked at his radar gun like it was
possessed by demons.

"All right, Lily, let's show 'em the changeup," Mike yelled. I nodded,
kicked, and threw. Very nice.

"That was a fastball. That had to be a fastball, right?" the manager
babbled from behind me. "That was no changeup."

"Uh, Skipper?" Muggsy said. "That was a changeup." He held up the radar
gun. It said 68.

"HOLY SHIT!" the skipper yelled. "That looked just like the heater!"

"Well, Pedro Martinez is my idol," I giggled at him. I threw a few more
of thosewhile listening to the Skipper muttering incredulities from behind
meand then Mikey called for the slider. In it went, and out and down it
broke, right off the table, right like it's supposed to.

The skipper was just staring down at the plate. Then he said,
tentatively, "Muggsy. What's the gun say?"

"Eightyfour."

"She throws an 84 mph slider and it breaks like that?!?!?!?!?"

"Well, honestly, it's usually closer to 81 or 82. Adrenaline rush, and
all that," I told him.

"Oh my fucking Christ."

I threw a few more of those, showed them the curveball and the
crossseam tailing fastball, and then the Skipper said, "OK, Woodard. I've
seen enough."

I flipped him the ball, and strode off the mound, with every eye staring
at me. And it was not the same stare I had gotten when I walked on the
field. Hey, I've been in The Program for two days now. I didn't mind the
program, I liked my body, and I liked being a girl. I did not at all mind
having my pussy and boobs stared at. But not here. Not on the field.
When I'm on that baseball field, you'd best not be staring at my
pussyyou'd better be staring at my arm.

When I walked off that field, they were staring at my arm. A few of the
lesscharitable ones, I am sure, were hoping it'd fall offbut they were
staring at it.

Damn, it felt good. If I hadn't been trying to be cool, calm, and
collected, I would've done the Happy Dance up and down the third base line.
But I kept cool.

I hung around until the end of the tryout, got called back to pitch and
hit the next dayof courseand then started getting my stuff together.
Mike came over. We walked up behind the third base stands.

"You showed 'em, Pedro. That was something else. They're still
muttering."

"Damn, that felt good," I told him.

"I'll bet," he grinned.

"Thanks for the support. You're a great catcher," I told him.

"Yes, I am." We both laughed.

I looked at him. With the pressure of the tryouts done, all those other
feelings came rushing back. And how. I looked at him, smiledI was
shooting for 'coyly' but don't know if I got itand said, "Can you help me
with my tape?"

"Sure thing." He unwrapped the ace bandage, and then went for the scraps
taped over my nipples. He was very careful. Took his time. Oh Jesus.

I reacted. I know I reacted. I wasn't trying to make it too obvious,
but I know I reacted. And, suddenly, the fabric was off, and he stepped
back and proclaimed, "All done!"

All done? All done? NO! No, you are not ALL DONE! GET BACK OVER
HERE! YOU ARE NOT ALL DONE!

I didn't say it. My mind screamed it. But something must have been in
my eyes, because he said, "Are you OK?"

NO! I'M NOT OK! GET THOSE HANDS BACK OVER HERE AND MAKE IT OK! As my
mind kept screaming, I looked at him. Oblivious. Completely oblivious. I
thought he had more of a clue than that.

Unless he wasn't oblivious. Unless, instead, he was completely
disinterested. Which I should be used to by now.

Damn, damn, damn. When the fuck am I going to learn? When? He looked
at me and saw a right arm. When has it ever been any different?

I'm such a fucking idiot.

Out. I had to get out of there.

"Lily, are you OK?" he asked again.

"Fine. Great. Thanks. See you tomorrow," I blurted, and not at all
nicely. And I got out of there.

Ran to my car. Got in. And almost broke my hand punching the steering
wheel.

Finally, I drove home.

CHAPTER TEN MIKE

"Mike, is that you?" I heard Mom call from the kitchen when I walked in.

"Yup."

"Want a coke?"

"Love one, thanks." She came out of the kitchen with one, and we sat on
the couch. She kissed me on the cheek. She always does that. Embarrasses
some guys, I know, but not me.

"So, how was your day? How'd tryouts go?"

"Great, and great."

"How was Lily?"

"Mom, you should've seen her!" I told her. "She was fantastic.
Incredible. Blew everybody away. I was behind the plate, catching her,
and couldn't stop grinning. I think Muggsy almost ate his radar gun."

"That's great," Mom said. "She must have been thrilled."

"Well, she was," I told her with a frown. "Until the very end."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we hung around until the end of tryouts, right? She was fine.
She was excited. So, she asked me to help her take her tape and stuff off.
I did, and then she got all weird or something. She was like, staring into
space. And when I asked her if she was OK, she snapped at me, and then
stormed off. I don't get it."

Mom stared at me. For a good long minute. With an expression on her
face that looked like I had just told her the sky was purple.

"Mom?" I asked.

"Michael," she began. "You are my son, and I love you dearly. But you,
my dear son, are a ninny."

"Huh?"

"A ninny. A complete ninny. Look. Why did you help her take her tape
off?"

"She asked."

"Why did she ask?"

"Because she needed help?" I didn't know where Mom was going with this.

"Why did she need help? Mikey, it's an ace bandage and two pieces of
bra. It's all within reach. She certainly could've gotten it off herself.
She didn't need any help from you." She stared at me. "She didn't want
'help', she wanted your hands on her boobs! You were turning her on! You
ninny."

I sank back into the couch. "Oh, shit. I am a ninny."

"Yes, you are," Mom agreed with an affectionate smile. "Now, it's one
thing if you're not attracted to her...."

"Shit," I cut her off. "She's sweet, smart, funny, absolutely gorgeous,
sexy as hell, cocky, fiery, and she throws ninety. What's not to be
attracted to?"

"Many guys wouldn't be attracted to the cocky, fiery, and throws ninety
part."

"She's actually said as much," I told her. "I'm not most guys. At
lunch today she challenged me and told me she could strike me out on three
straight pitches. I'm sure that'd turn off most guys. It made me want to
grab a stick, get up in the box against her, take my hacksand then fuck
her brains out in the middle of the infield." Yeah, I can talk that way to
my mother. Always have been able to.

"That's pretty amazing," she said.

I grinned at her. "Growing up as your son did not predispose me to be
attracted to shrinking violets."

She cracked up laughing. And then she just smiled. "I get the
impression you've been attracted to her right along."

"Yeah."

"So, you've been attracted to her. And she is giving out blatant
signals. And you didn't pick up on them?"

"I'm not good with signals," I admitted. "Unless it's one for a
fastball, two for a curve. Any other signals are complete Greek to me." I
sighed. "Plusand I know this was part of itI was trying to ignore my
attraction to her."

"Why?" Mom asked.

"I'm her catcher."

"Ah." Mom understood. "But you can be her catcher, and something else,
too."

"I suppose," I admitted, "but you know how I feel about the
catcherpitcher bond, and how important it is. I mean, cut me some slack
hereI haven't had a female teammate since I was nine. And I've never had
a female teammate I was attracted to. And I have to deal with that and
still be her catcher."

"I understand that," she said, "but what happened today happened off the
field. After the tryout."

"Yeah, to a point, but I was still being her catcher. I was helping my
pitcher with her equipment. Yes, if I were better at picking up signs from
girls I might not have seen it that way. But I was still in catcher mode."

"And I know how your tunnel vision gets."

"Yeah," I said. "Hey, she's got tunnel vision, too. I've seen it. I
just think she might know when to drop it better than I do." I sighed.
"OK, and I'm willing to entertain the possibility that I was subconsciously
keeping myself in the tunnel. So my hands wouldn't shake while I was
taking the tape off. If I had let 'Oh, God, I'm touching her boobs' cross
my mind, I would've been tearing off skin because of hormoneaddled
clumsiness."

"Ah," she laughed.

"Anyhow, Mom, thanks a lot." I got up and kissed her on the cheek. "You
were a big help. As usual." I got up to head upstairs to do some homework
before supper.

"So, what are you going to do?" she asked me.

"Stop being a ninny." We both laughed, and I headed upstairs.

End of part twoMIKE AND LILY NAKED AT SCHOOL PART THREE WEDNESDAY

CHAPTER ELEVEN LILY

I was still out of sorts the next morning.

I tried to calm down, but it wasn't working all that well.

Especially when I got to school, and there he was. At the entrance,
ready to do the get naked thing. He flashed me a big smile. I forced one
back, and we stripped.

Then I headed for my first class. In a hurry.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized I was being
silly.

Hey, if he wasn't attracted to me, I can't blame him, can I? Plus, we
needed to get along. He was my catcher. And, I suppose, a person can't
have too many friends, right?

I had to relax about this. I just had to relax. We had to get along, I
couldn't hold a grudge just because he wasn't what I thought he might be.
It would take an intense amount of fortitude for a fellow ballplayer to be
interested in me. I know that. So, I just needed to relax.

I actually surprised myself about that. I accepted relief in third
period. A kid named Paul, knew him slightly, fingered me to a nice,
glorious, very relaxing cum. OK, so I admit itI needed that. And,
judging by the looks he was giving me, which looked very interestedat
least I seem to have an option or two. I've never really been a
onenightstand type of person, but I'm not opposed to it or anything.

Anyhow, I was relaxed, and more at ease about thingsso when Mike waved
me over to him in the lunchroom, I went.

There was another guy with him. "Hey, Pedro. Like you to meet my best
friend. Ed Bauer. He's also your future teammate."

"Nice to meet you," I shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said. "Welcome to the team."

"Well, I haven't officially made it yet."

"Formalities, formalities. Trust me. I was there yesterday. You're on
the team." He took a bite of his food. "Mike, here, was telling me about
you yesterday morning. I was going 'no way!' He was going 'way!' I must
admit, he was right, I was wrong."

"As usual, pal o' mine, as usual," Mike butt in.

"Yeah, you're always right. You were right about her from the first,
yeah. Three words: Frankie Gutierrez mitt."

Mike cracked up laughing. "OK. You got me."

"You told him about that?" I laughed.

"I would've loved to have seen that," Ed said. "First he gets his hand
blown away, then he had to bow and scrape. He does a very good bow and
scrape. Though usually he has to do it to his mother."

"Oh, no, Marina far more often," Mike said. "Mom's a pussycat.
Marina's the one that always catches me doing something."

"Well, he must have had practice," I said, "because he does bow and
scrape very well. He was very contrite." Fuck it. Yeah, I was tempting
fate. "He was even cute as hell doing it." He did blush. But he also
grinned. That was a definite grin.

I didn't know what was up or down. Jesus.

Anyhow, I changed the subject. "So, Ed, what do you do?"

"Well, when you're pitching from the stretch, right, and your facing out
to your rightthere I'll be. The ol' hot corner."

"Yeah, and he's the best defensive third baseman in the state," Mike put
in. "He can really throw the leather. If only he could hit."

"Hey, I can hit," Ed proclaimed. "Well, some of the time."

"Ed, y'see, is an allornothing kind of guy. The ball either goes a
long, long wayor it's strike three, grab some bench."

"It's going to be better," Ed proclaimed. "I've worked on it in the
cage all winter, trying to shorten my swing but not lose any power. Hey, I
led the team in homers last year, and I can play third like the dickensbut
I almost lost my starting job because I only hit .238. Not this year."

"Well, it is nice to have some teammates who can score some runs for me.
But, hell, if you're that good, I'll take the defense," I told him. "I
tend to pitch inside to righthanded batters. And I tend to make them get
way ahead of my changeup. You know what that means."

He did. "Ground ball to the third baseman," he grinned. "Line shot to
the third baseman. Popup to the third baseman."

"You got it," I grinned back.

"Except, this year, if you're gonna be on the hill, I think I'm
switching to catcher. Third basemen only get to see you from the back.
Mike gets to watch you from the front. Far better deal."

I had to laugh. "Don't mind him, he's a lech," Mike said.

"Hey, last time a good friend was in The Program, she let me fuck her in
the shower in the gym locker room," Ed said. "Now, I've got my best friend
in The Program, and he's escorting around this gorgeous babe with great
tits who also happens to be the savior of our pitching staff. I must say,
I like this program thing."

I laughed. Ed was kidding. I could tell. I didn't mind. Ed said that
whole spiel without once looking at my tits. He was just joking. Mike, on
the other hand, was looking at my tits. And wasn't making a single hint of
an effort to hide it.

What was this?

"Hey, you guys are making me feel like a piece of meat."

" Us?" Ed asked. "Hey, Lily, did you notice that when you took the hill
yesterday, there was a flurry of people getting out of the third base
bleachers and moving to the first base bleachers? That's because we got a
better beaver shot from the first base side when you went into your leg
kick." I couldn't help it. I howled.

"That's the worst part of pitching in the nude. Well, except for the
boobs, which Talented Hands Mike took care of for me." Mike almost choked
on his soda with that one. "No, now the worst thing is that every time I
go into my leg kick, my pussy rubs together. That can be a little
distracting."

Ed howled. I liked Ed. As a friend, but I liked him. I appreciated
people who were free and easy about stuff. "Hey, we'll just schedule it,"
Ed said. "We have the seventhinning stretch, right? Well, we'll just
pencil in the fourthinning screaming cum. On the mound."

"The fourth inning," I said through my giggles. "And the fifth, and the
sixth, and the seventh......"

"Gives a whole meaning to the term 'call for relief', doesn't it?" Ed
laughed. We were rolling right then. Except for Mike. He was laughing,
sure, but he was blushing. And there was a strange look in his eye.

So, I went for the jugular. "Hey, if I'm going to be standing on the
mound cumming every inning, I'm gonna need some help." I looked at Ed when
I said it, but said, "So, do you think that's in a catcher's job
description?"

Ed howled louder. "Well, a catcher must help his pitcher out any way he
can, right?"

Mike was laughing, he was. But he was also blushing purple. And
looking at my tits again. When he looked up, there was something in his
eyes. I wasn't sure what it was. But there was something.

Goddammit. I was going to be nice. I was going to be friends. I was
not going to get my hopes up. Wasn't I?

Well, so much for welllaid plans. Of course, I didn't really want any
welllaid planswhat I wanted was a welllaid pitcher. And, despite the
banter, I didn't think I was going to get thatnot, at least, from Mike.
It was just banter. Ed was bantering, toobut he was just being funny, I
didn't see any real interest there. I knew that. That was fine. I liked
Ed, instantly, but not that way. So why would I manufacture Mike's banter
as something more in my mind? It wasn't going to happen.

Then again, there was that strange look in Mike's eye.

Fuck it. I could not do this to myself. I had more tryouts this
afternoon.

Pitching, Lily, pitching. Remember?

CHAPTER TWELVE MIKE

Oh, my fucking head.

After that performance, I needed relief. Bad. I requested itand got
it, a superb blowjob from my friend Maggie Bensontwo periods after lunch.
And it wasn't enough. And it should've been, because Maggie's the blowjob
queen of the junior class.

No, wasn't Maggie's fault. It wasn't enough because I couldn't get that
picture out of my head. Lily standing on the moundand me out there,
helping her cum.

Jesus Christ. Was this real?

I knew I was going to try to find out what was what, after tryouts. I
knew that. But she had me on a knife's edge all afternoon. I didn't know
if it was banter, or if it was seriousor even, horrors, if she had given
up on me, the ninny, and was going after Ed. I didn't think so. I knew Ed
wasn't seriousLily isn't his typehe's just like that all the time. But
she had just met Ed, and I didn't know if she knew that.

I managed to get through the day. Don't ask me how.

Went over to the field. She beat me there. She was also all taped up
already. Well, that didn't surprise me. She probably still figur

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Robin Neal, all rights reserved, reposting without permission
prohibited

PET

SYNOPSIS

Raised by hopelessly repressed and dysfunctional parents in a wealthy
suburb, an adolescent girl rebels by rejecting authority and social
interaction, becoming a bitter, introverted loner. She drops out of
school, alienates her childhood friends, and spends her days in her room,
unnoticed by her remote, workaholic father and at war with her sexually
neglected, neurotic mother. She has a pretty face, but refuses to care for
her appearance or health and immerses herself in alternative music and
entertainment. Finally, jaded and depressed, unable to relate to the
artificial culture of her television or the moral wasteland outside her
room, she turns to drugs. Her weight drops drastically, she shaves her
head and cultivates a Gothic, androgenous appearance as a protest against
what she sees as the depraved shallowness of sex and moneydriven American
society.

Accidentally involved in a drug bust while buying cocaine, she is
jailed, rejected by her parents, and sentenced in juvenile court to a year
in a girls' work camp. She is placed on a bus with other prisoners for
transport to her incarceration. At a rest stop, she suddenly disappears,
kidnaped by a shadowy and very capable team of women who take her, bound
and heavily sedated, to a remote and secret clinic. There she is kept for
nearly a year, while an exhaustive program of cosmetic surgeries,
pharmaceutical treatments and enforced physical therapy and nourishment
transform her from an anemic, drugwasted waif into a lovely, outrageously
voluptuous siren. Psychotherapy and hormone supplements leave her
confused, partially amnesic and with a constantly overstimulated sex drive.
As she recovers, she manifests anger and outrage at her mistreatment, deep
selfpity and emotional instability. She is prone to tantrums and
violently irrational behavior.

When her physical health is completely restored, she is sent to a huge,
beautiful estate outside a major city in the southeastern United States.
This institution is called the House by those who live there, and its
purpose is to educate, train and support hundreds of very sophisticated,
very accomplished modern geishas, who are sent on assignments around the
world as companions, models and courtesans, and in other, more mysterious
roles. Its clients are major international companies, governments, and
fabulously wealthy private citizens. Part girls' school, part prison, part
corporation and part brothel, the House is ruled by a mysterious woman
called simply the Mistress and its students are called House girls.
Administration, training, education and discipline are the responsibilities
of the Ladies of the House, a staff of graduate House girls who live at the
House permanently, keeping order, teaching classes, and personally
overseeing every facet of the lives of the House girls assigned to their
care.

Every House girl has a personal Lady whom she serves and who has total
authority over her training and her life. The kidnap victim is assigned to
the care and service of one of the most senior Ladies, a tall and
aristocratically beautiful dominant named Cissy. She receives a new name,
Pet. Her memory of her previous name has been erased. Still angry and
maladjusted, Pet takes every opportunity to rebel against the strict rules
of the House and against her Lady, Cissy, who rules her with an iron hand.
Misbehavior results in cruel, often erotic punishment. House girls are
also required to serve their Ladies sexually, as part of their training,
and Pet learns the hard way that she must do as Cissy instructs, in and out
of bed.

The House is maintained and the House girls are cared for by a corps of
professional maids who serve meals, clean, organize and perform every sort
of personal service for the girls and the Ladies of the House, on duty in
shifts twentyfour hours a day.

During her first six months at the House, Pet earns a reputation as an
outlaw, making no friends and contesting with her Lady over every detail of
her training. As time goes by, however, she unwillingly begins to respond
to Cissy's patient, inescapable authority.

1. IN THE DINING HALL

I had to go to dinner with Cissy, and it sucked. If I refused, I'd be
punished, and besides I was starving, but why couldn't my maids just bring
me something in my room and leave me in peace to eat it? Now I had to get
dressed in a stupid slutty dress, and wear a pushup bra that would
practically leave welts, and sit in front of the vanity mirror looking at a
face that wasn't really mine while a maid did my makeup and hair and even
my nails. It took more than an hour, plus the time in the bathroom to
shower and brush my teeth and stuff.

Class had been hell, even though it wasn't Posture Class, just
Cosmetics, but I'd been asked a question and hadn't known the answer and
the other girls all looked at me like I was a retard. If I could have
gotten any one of them alone, I would have made her sorry, but of course
that would never happen. The duty Trainers watched us like hawks.

Cissy came for me at six, perfectly punctual, and perfectly dressed and
perfectly polite and perfectly proper, and I perfectly fucking hated her.
She said, "Good Evening, Pet. You look very nice in your new dress." 'It's
not my dress and you only think I look very nice because of what the maids
did to me, so let's just get dinner over with and never mind the insincere
compliments,' I thought. "Good Evening, Cissy. Thank you, Cissy," I said.
I was too tired and too hungry to risk being punished tonight, and I took
some cheer from the fact that we were eating in the dining hall, not
Cissy's suite, so I might not have to have sex with her afterward. She
offered me her arm and I put my hand on it, and she thanked my night maid,
who curtsied. I never bothered with any pleasantries where the maids were
concerned, after all they were just hired help and their main function was
to rag me and spy on me. Although they seemed to be compassionate toward
me sometimes, they were clearly on the House's side, so I detested them.
On the way downstairs, Cissy asked how my day had gone as she drifted along
elegantly like she'd been born in those heels, and I told her the truth,
just to see if she would be irritated.

"I'm sorry, Pet," she said with aggravating sympathy. "Are you sure you
didn't know the answer?"

Caught off guard, I answered honestly again, but I couldn't help feeling
ashamed. "I read it, but I didn't remember until after she told me," I
replied sullenly, not meeting her eyes.

"Please don't feel badly. Mademoiselle Kelly told me at tea this
afternoon that you have shown an improvement in Cosmetics Class, and I'm
sure you simply had a lapse of memory."

Somehow that bothered me more than if she had been angry. "Cissy, when
are you going to realize that I really am as stupid as everybody thinks? I
never know the answers, and I think the classes are pointless anyway. I'm
not trying to make you mad at me, I'm just being honest. If I have to go
through this training, why can't I learn to do something useful? I know
the House has classes in all kinds of things. Why can't I take History, or
Cuisine or Art, or something?"

"I'm sure you know the answer to that, Pet," she said firmly. "You are
being trained to become a House girl, and although I am not giving you a
choice of classes, I have told you that I will allow you electives when you
are further along. First you must show me that you can do well in these
more essential disciplines. You cannot be a House girl if you don't
understand Cosmetics. Or Etiquette, or Posture, or Couture. It's that
simple." She gave me that Cissy look of totally inflexible authority. The
Ownership Look, I called it. I almost, almost snapped back at her. The
obvious response was that a House girl was a prostitute and I didn't want
to be one, and I never would be. But by then I would have been raising my
voice and arguing with her and although she would never argue back, I was
sure to wind up being punished. I had promised myself that I would get
through dinner without that tonight. I ground my teeth and shut up.

"Also, Pet, I want you to stop saying that you are stupid. It isn't
true," she added, just to make sure she had the last word. I had the last
word in my mind, and it had four letters.

By the time we got to the dining hall, my feet were killing me. I had
different shoes for just about every outfit I wore, and they all gave me
blisters in different places. The heels were too high, the straps were too
tight and some of them were mules, and didn't even have straps so I had to
keep them on my feet by scrunching my toes. I saw it as a subtle form of
designed to make me docile and helpless. And my bra hurt too, and
so did my back, because my tits were too big. WAY too big, and they
bothered me all the time. I couldn't sleep in certain positions, I
couldn't move quickly without them swinging or bouncing and looking really
dumb, and they got in the way of everything I did and made me even more
awkward than I already was, and they were very sensitive and tender,
especially my nipples. It was totally, maddeningly unfair. The House had
no right to change my body. A girl's body should belong to her, and nobody
else.

Now my body belonged to Cissy. But I had sworn my mind never would.

Cissy held a chair out for me, and I sat down with relief. She
hesitated for just a second, and I said, "Thank you, Cissy." Then she went
around to her own seat and arranged herself with perfect grace. She picked
up her napkin and put it in her lap, and I copied her, wondering what I
would be allowed to have. The dining hall wasn't really a hall, like a big
open space. It had a lot of columns and archways and potted plants and
other stuff that kind of divided it into little rooms, so it seemed more
private. The walls were white stucco and the floor was beautiful stone
tile, and the soft indirect lighting made it feel very comfortable. I
could see two other tables from where I was, and there were couples at both
of them, House girls and their Ladies. They all gave Cissy respectful
glances, and she smiled at them regally.

During dinner, I tried to keep up with Cissy's occasional comments, but
mainly I paid attention to my table manners because I knew she was watching
closely. This was probably the biggest pitfall of the evening. I knew how
to do this stuff after endless training at Etiquette Class, but it was
complicated with all the different utensils and glasses and I would fuck up
if I didn't concentrate. That had often been the excuse she needed to
punish me. She seemed in a pretty good mood tonight, but if I took a bite
with the wrong fork that wouldn't matter.

Cissy ordered for me like she always did, as if I couldn't even decide
for myself what I wanted to eat. She knew I didn't like beef, and she was
kind enough to pass up the filet mignon on the special card, but she also
knew I liked chicken and contrarily ordered me grilled salmon, with lemon.
It was good, of course, as everything served at the House was, but it
wasn't what I wanted so I didn't enjoy it. I ate all there was, though,
because I was so hungry and the little bit I got wouldn't have satisfied a
cat. There were veggies too, and I ate them all, and I got one piece of
warm bread, with a trace of butter, which was the high point of my meal.
Dessert was out of the question.

Cissy gave me a couple of casual criticisms during dinner, one about my
posture and the other when I didn't finish chewing before taking a drink of
water, but I didn't let them irritate me very much. At least I was eating,
and she wasn't truly lecturing me as she often did. She had the same thing
as me, in the same dinky portion, which was probably to show me that it
wasn't too little. Of course, there was nothing stopping her from eating
as much as she wanted later when she got home, if she was still hungry.
Presumably I wasn't supposed to be smart enough to figure that out.

After the main course was cleared, I really did feel a little better. I
was embarrassed, of course, with my huge boobs practically bursting out of
my slinky dress and the tops of my stockings clearly visible beneath my
tooshort hemline, but I was only with Cissy so I didn't really care. In
spite of the tense dislike I had for spending time with Cissy, we knew each
other well by now. You can't sleep with someone at least twice a week, and
have meals with them even more often, without forming some kind of
relationship, and we had one, although it wasn't a comfortable one. When I
wanted to, I knew what to do to get along with her, and since I had made it
through dinner without getting in trouble I just decided to "be good," as
people at the House were always telling me, and hope that I wouldn't have
to go to bed with her. A maid came and asked if we wanted coffee. The
maids who served in the dining hall and on the two terraces where meals
were available had little fitted black uniforms with white buttons, collars
and cuffs just like the personal maids and the day and night floor maids,
but their aprons were white instead of black with white lace trim. Cissy
surprised me by ordering me a cappucino. She knew I liked that. Had I
really been that wellbehaved, or was she trying to soften me up for
something I wouldn't like later on? I decided it might be a reward and
enjoyed it. She had coffee.

She asked how I was coming with a novel she had given me, and I really
was reading it and it had turned out to be pretty good. It was all about
the history of these imaginary vampires and was kind of Gothic and spooky,
and there was a lot of sex in it, but it was romantic too in a kind of
tragic way. I told her which chapter I was on and she asked a couple of
questions about it, how I felt about this and that, and I told her, and the
next thing I knew we were talking almost like friends for a minute. Then
another Lady came by our table to say Hello, with a cute, submissive
typical House girl in tow, and she greeted Cissy like she was a celebrity
and even said Good Evening to me. I was flustered for a second, not having
expected to be noticed, but I said, "Good Evening, Mademoiselle," and
dropped my eyes as I was supposed to, and that got me by. The only Lady of
the House that I didn't have to call "Mademoiselle" was Cissy, and that was
because our relationship was personal as well as official, although there
were still rules about how I was supposed to respectfully address her. I
paid attention to them sometimes.

After dinner, I got what I had been telling myself I wanted: Cissy
walked me back to my room instead of to her apartment. I felt a little
more calm than I had on the way down, and I didn't really mind when Cissy
put her arm around me. She smelled nice and the warmth of her felt good.
Inside my door, though, she kissed me Good Night right in front of my night
maid, who happened to be in my room straightening up or something. I had
to do it, but it made me feel so ashamed. Cissy smiled a little Mona Lisa
smile that was an affectation of hers, because she knew I was embarrassed,
and I suppose I was blushing. Her kiss had sent a flash of familiar
excitement through my body and she knew it. My overactive hormones and the
conditioning of being her unwilling lover for so long betrayed me, although
I insisted to myself that I didn't want her. She said, "Good Night, Pet,"
softly and I murmured, "Good Night, Cissy. Thank you for dinner," against
her neck, my eyes closed.

"It was my pleasure, Pet," she said, so proper, and then she turned and
closed the door on her way out. I stood looking after my owner for a
second. I looked at the maid standing by the bathroom door, and then I
walked over to my bed and picked up a pillow and flung it against the door
so hard it bounced halfway back across the room. The maid looked at it
stupidly and I said, "Look, there's a pillow on the floor. You'd better
pick it up. I need a shower." And I went into the bathroom and took one,
throwing my clothing a piece at a time back into the bedroom for my maid to
pick up if she felt like it. In the shower, I could cry all I wanted, and
no one would know.



In episode 2, Pet has earned a few hours in one of the House's
punishment rooms.

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