Chapter 3

Falcon Highschool Gym

Jesus Christ, seventeen and this was the first time that I'd ever been in a regular school. I didn't know the first thing about it. Most of it, I thought I could figure out. If nothing else, just follow the crowd. So the first thing I did was look for someone in the crowd that looked as confused as I was and latch on to them.

And there she was. She didn't have a clue either. Attractive but lost in the melee. Good.

"Hi, do you know what to do to get registered? I'm a little lost."

The girl turned around and looked at the handsome boy who was obviously hitting on her. "Kiss off, Asshole." She turned back to looking for the girl that had promised to help her get through matriculation at this backward school in the sticks.

She searched again and finally saw her. "Joyce, over here."

Joyce looked up and finally separated herself from the mob that was milling around on the basketball court. She moved swiftly toward her.

"Thank God you got here, I was completely lost," Bette said. "One minute in here and that asshole over there already hit on me."

"Which one would do that in this mess?"

Bette looked around and finally spotted the asshole still standing in the same place. "That one; cute but with the worst pickup line that I've ever heard."

Joyce finally located the one Bette was referring to and blinked. Then she looked down at the poloroid shot from his file that she had in her hand. "That's the other person I'm supposed to help select his classes. He has to be as new as you. I know everyone in this shitty school. He's not from here, believe me. The Dean wanted me to make sure he got registered correctly."

"The Dean, that woman I talked to briefly this morning, actually gives a shit that he gets in classes and I had to practically beg for help. What gives?"

"I really don't know. She pulled this Pic from his file and gave me instructions. That's all I know. Wait here, I'll grab him and be right back."

Bette watched Joyce approach him and explain somethng. Then he followed her over to where Bette was standing. "Mark, this is Bette, another...

"We've met." I said without even looking at the girl next to her. "How do I sign up for the science classes and math?"

"The Dean specifically wanted me to help you get into the right music classes. We have a terrific music department here. Bette wants to get into those classes also, don't you, Bette?"

Bette had her mouth open. This SOB hits on her, gets blown off and now he won't even look at her. How in the hell was she supposed to know he was really lost and not hustling? Well, piss on him, he's big, but he isn't 'that' cute. Science and math type, well, she wouldn't even let him kiss her ass. She was a singer. "Yes, I do, Joyce. Can you show me the right line for singers?"

I was beginning to smell something wrong here. I watched as Joyce gave a hand signal and then a head shake to the young woman standing behind the music signup desk. And what was it about the Dean of the school wanting him in music classes? That was the one thing I didn't need. But I did need help registering. I waited.

Home Room

"OK, everyone settle down now. This is your home room and this is the first class that you attend everyday. Here is where Administrative Notices are read. In a minute I'll take roll. But first, is there a Mark Britzen here?"

"Here."

"OK then, you are to go to the music room in the main building. Let's see, look for a Gloria Diggs. OK, off you go."

Music Room

"Hello, I'm looking for Gloria Diggs."

"Well, you've found her. What can I do for you?"

"You asked to see me. I'm Mark Britzen."

"OH, yes, Mark. I didn't get a chance to talk to you at registration. I understand that you didn't sign up for any music classes."

"Well, I didn't think I needed any music instruction. Science and math is more what I need."

"I assumed that since you are the son of Bo and Bonny Britzen you'd be eager to share your insights with the other musically inclined students here. After all they probably have high hopes of doing what your parents have been doing for years."

"What we've been doing for years, sucks. We were gypsies. You're always on the road. Nothing but motels and restaurants. See, that didn't take very long, did it?"

"Well, then, maybe you could contribute a little. Like maybe show the kids how to write a song and how to arrange it for the stage. Like maybe a Musical Review. We have one of those every year. We value music highly, Mark."

"I can see the contribution part, but what would I get out of it?"

"Think of having your work presented on a stage. That would be a real thrill, wouldn't it?"

"It's what I did with my parents. It didn't thrill me then either."

"Come on now, Mark, you did all their songs?"

"Just for the last five years. Before that, they bought their songs."

"Well, as head of the music department, I could let you write and arrange as many songs as you wanted and then merge them into the rest of my show."

"Tell me about your show and when it is produced."

"Well, that hasn't been finalized yet. And, that's why I wanted to give you this great opportunity to participate. I could make some changes to assure that your music fit in."

"Show me what I'm fitting into."

"As I said, that's not finalized yet. But, I would be willing to work very, very closely with you."

Everything was becoming clearer. I looked at her ring finger and it was bare. I looked closely at this twenty-something woman who was quite attractive. Her light brown hair softly curved around an oval face that required little make-up. I looked at the rest of her and made it obvious what I was doing. Nice tits, slim waist, and gently flaring hips. Good legs. What the hell, might as well find out now what's being offered.

"Do you live alone?"

"Look, I'll even arrange for you to have complete authority over the Musical Review. You could write as many of the pieces as you want or mix and match. Whatever. It doesn't get any better than that, does it? How about you even select the singers and band members you want to use. But whether you agree right now or later, the Dean will want to see you when you leave here."

Gloria gritted her teeth and looked at the blackboard. She could hear the Dean screaming in her mind, 'Do whatever you have to do.' But the bastard was just standing there, not saying a word, not even nervous. Just waiting. For what; her commitment?

"Yes, I do live alone and we could do some of the consultation work there. Hmm, eh, as often as you n-n-need to."

"I'm going to seriously consider your offer, Miss Diggs. But to determine if you are equally serious in your commitment, I'm going to need a taste of you. Right now."

Gloria was stunned. She was having trouble processing the word 'taste'. She had read enough Harliquin's romance books to know what she thought he was referring to. She suddenly felt like she was losing bladder control - she was that wet, that quick. Her legs were starting to tremble and she couldn't resist when he gently turned her around and bent her over her own desk. She felt her skirt being raised and her panties removed. The bastard added insult to injury by sniffing.

Damn she smelled good and there couldn't have been less pussy hair. She had to be shaving her crotch area regularly. I urged her butt cheeks apart and noted that her little pucker hole was clean and tight. Her inner lips were swollen and very wet. Well, I had just decided that taste was too mild a word for what I had in mind now. I ravaged her with my mouth and tongue until I was satisified, then wiped my face with my shirt sleeve. I headed for the administration offices as requested.

Dean Sims Office

The Dean picked up the phone on the first ring since she was expecting the call. But all she heard was wheezing on the other end. She hoped it wasn't some God damned pervert phone call.

"Is that you, Gloria?"

"Yes, he just left."

"What did you have to agree to?"

Gloria was still sputtering but finally became coherent, "I agreed to complete control of the production including music and players and singers. And he gets total access to my b-b-body. Then he forced me face-down on the desk and k-kissed, l-licked, b-bit, and s-sucked e-e-everything down there."

The Dean listened to her wheezing for another half a minute. She was fascinated by the boy's oral tendencies. "So, it's a done deal then. I'll have the contract ready when he gets here."