Friendly Rivalry
Copyright© 2026 by HAL
Chapter 12
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 12 - The two schools had always had a friendly rivalry, as time went on the 'friendly' reduced and the 'rivalry' increased. The plan by three boys would take it to a whole new level. Even the head of St Benedicts plausible deniability would not protect him or his school if it all went wrong. Luckily Duncan, the head boy of St. Bs, was already showing his skills in careful and failsafe planning.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Drunk/Drugged NonConsensual
Harold created an emergency when Mr and Mrs Lambert-Smith moved in next door to him. Their daughter was sixteen and was stunning. She knew that, and let him know his chances with her were somewhere near subzero. A small dose of the drug, he thought; just once, he thought. But her mother drank it instead of her. Unusually, he panicked and opted to hide in plain sight. He dosed Mr Lanbert-Smith too, thinking that would be fine now. Somehow they decided to make love on their back lawn in full horrified view of his parents; so he dosed them too. Seeing their neighbours stripping and writhing, they opted to join them. Four parents converted to swingers. Julia Lambert-Smith was now the one to be disgusted, so he managed to dose her this time, and his sister because she might call the police or something, and Julia’s younger brother. A second orgy of young people ensued. He found his own sister willing to suck him off at one point, a point at which he stopped. Julia was not prevented from doing it though. Still, both girls found that they had very satisfactory and multiple orgasms too. Mr Lambert-Smith and his mother were seen to be having energetic sex; but then his mother and Mrs Lambert-Smith experimented with scissoring. Harold was really pleased that no-one suggested that his father and Mr Lambert-Smith should have a session together. Again the lack of guilt or embarrassment after was a good after effect that he was infinitely grateful for. He was the only one who thought it all too much. Still, Julia was a lot more friendly to him after that; though she never offered to repeat the performance, she was content to sunbathe topless in the garden, knowing he could see.
Fiona and Duncan wound up in the same collegiate University. If they had gone separate ways, it might have all been forgotten; but two events brought them closer again. Fiona was at The Royal College, she was destined for great things wherever she went, and not just because she wore short skirts and tight shirts and she looked stunning and stunningly attractive. Some men joked that it wasn’t fair that a girl could have looks and brains; some were genuinely irritated. Professor Robson Ashbert was one of the latter. He had got where he was strictly on his brains. He had the looks of an Orang-Utan, and the character of a hyena. Word went round about his wandering hands in seminars; there were rumours of even less acceptable behaviour. Fiona was a natural target for his lust. He implied that she could get better grades for sleeping with him. When that didn’t work, he made it plain (by a couple of E- scores) that she could get thrown out for bad grades if she didn’t sleep with him.
That’s when Fiona came upon Duncan. It was a serendipitous moment in a cafe. Duncan hadn’t even realised she had gone there; he had switched at a late stage, having had an email discussion with Doctor Stanislour Bugchavski – yes, THE Stanislour Bugchavski – who had asked him to attend a conference in Bristol; chatted with him over a beer with a couple of colleagues; and offered him a place. Duncan hadn’t even realised he was being interviewed – which had been the intention of course. Anyway, Duncan was having an espresso (naturally, he was cool and espresso said ‘cool’ in spades), and Fiona ran in, looking hassled. “Oh, hello! I didn’t know you were here; I mean at the uni. I mean. I have to go. I have to get Prof Ashbert his coffee.” He always asked one of the girls. “I...” a tear rolling down her cheek was a signal that even a boy would notice.
“He can wait. Talk to me.” It was as simple as that, her somewhat unusual rapist was her confidante. At the end he bought her coffee. “Every week? I’ll be here next week No, you volunteer to get his coffee. Trust me.”
And she did! She volunteered and went to get Robson’s coffee (for which he never offered to pay), only this time it arrived at the tutorial room laced with something. If people thought he might have been spiked, few liked him enough to stand up for him. Duncan told Fiona to suggest things to him. She started low down “Your shoe lace needs retying.” He retied it. “It needs retying again.” He smiled and retied it. “Can you do press ups?” the others were bemused to see their professor trying to do press ups.” She waited until the end of the meeting and said “Show me your willy.” and he just unzipped and pulled it out. “Do you like fucking students then?” He admitted that he did, he liked being able to control their young flesh, it made him feel young. Now she was convinced. She gave him some detailed instructions and he happily complied.
Fiona then let him go. She suggested that Doctor McGee, a very respectable and happily married woman who was also something of a Tartar, really wanted to have his hand down her pants. He found her in the library and slid his hand up her skirt. Annoyingly, she wasn’t as insulted as Fiona had hoped, though she did tell the good doctor to go away and try again at a more suitable time. She further suggested that lying on the grass, naked, masturbating his (rather unimpressive) erection would result in many girls running over to mount his telegraph pole. He was arrested, bound over to keep the peace before the hearing. The University gave him furlough as he had obviously been working too hard, which was news to him and his students but helped lessen the publicity. A cloud lifted.
The other event was the mixed amateur punting race. They carried on meeting for coffee each week. So when the punting race posters went up, Fiona suggested they could enter “Just a bit of fun.” A race is never worth entering if it is just a bit of fun. Duncan started practising his punting technique. The race involved a young lady (it could be a boy now as political correctness demanded) being punted from the ‘Old Bogg’ to Smethick Meadows; a distance of 3.5 miles. One stretch of river was very deep, too deep for the punt pole; which was part of the fun. If you knew, you headed to the side, if you didn’t, you had to drift for 200 yards (or you lost your pole). It was now tradition to dress in Edwardian clothing.