FARM GIRLS’ SLEEPOVER, THE HAYLOFT, ALICIA’S PARENTS’ FARM

“Heather,” said Alicia, with a smug smile on her face. “Truth or Dare?”

I giggled nervously, a sign I had drunk way too much vodka for my own good. Between us we had emptied the first bottle completely and had already inflicted significant damage on the second. “Truth,” I called out. My boobs were far too sore to endure yet more groping and my wits were too befuddled for me to realise that this time I would have been the groper, not the gropee.

Alicia smiled predatorially. “Heather, which boy would you most like to fuck?”

I don’t remember answering, but I can remember the aftermath.

“Eww, that’s weird. Your own brother!” exclaimed Marcia.

“Actually it’s kinda hot,” said Cilla. “I wish I had a brother. Sex on tap.”

“Hell, girl, there ain’t no way you’re getting a piece of your brother,” said Janice. “He’s as gay as a lord.”

“What!” I was dumbstruck. “Luther? I don’t believe it.”

“Girl, you’d better believe it,” insisted Janice. “Your Luther keeps propositioning Brendan in the school showers.”

“But Brendan’s...”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t want to hurt your brother. He was kinda flattered at first but now it’s getting annoying.”

Janice’s twin brother was captain of the school football team. He was okay, I guess, but he was over-muscly for my taste. Luther, on the other hand, was fit but finely sculpted, like a work of art.

“How long have you known? How could you keep this from me?” I wailed.

“Shit, you got it bad,” commiserated Janice.

“Intervention,” sang Cilla and Alicia in harmony.

“Just how do you plan to do that?” asked Janice sceptically.

“I bet Luther’s a virgin,” said Cilla. “Once he’s introduced to Heather’s womanly pleasures, perhaps he’ll change.”

“Has he ever seen you naked?” Alicia asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything any more,” I sobbed. I took a breath. “I guess. We don’t have much privacy. I’ve seen his cock.”

“Ooh, is it a nice one?” asked Cilla.

“It’s perfect,” I confirmed.

“Wow, you’re a dark horse. Just how many cocks have you seen?” asked Alicia.

“A few,” I lied.

There was an uncomfortable silence while we all took another swig of vodka.

“My turn,” said Marcia. “Cilla, Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to play with Heather’s boobs for two minutes.”

I groaned, but I politely put up with yet another mauling until it was over. “Please guys, can you think of something else next time? The girls are getting pretty sore.”

There were nods of agreement all round. I guessed we’d go back to kissing each other, but that wasn’t so bad as I had lip balm to keep them from chapping. A couple of years ago, when Marcia and Cilla showed an interest in joining us, we’d agreed nothing below the waist when the two younger girls were present, so we were strictly limited for Dare material.

“My turn,” said Cilla. “Heather, Truth or Dare?”

Truth hadn’t worked out so well last time. “Dare.”

“Heather, I dare you to do the Slut Wall for Luther. Commando!”

That took quite a while to penetrate my befuddled brain. The Slut Wall was outside school but we were in the hayloft at Alicia’s.

“Brilliant,” said Alicia, giving Cilla a high five. The others joined in.

By the entrance to our school was an ornamental brick wall. If a girl sat on top and hitched up her skirt, her exposed panties would be at eye level for boys as they were exiting the school gate. Convention was for the flasher to call out to the intended flashee to attract his attention. Sometimes it was done with cruel intent - look at what you can’t have - but usually it was the opening salvo towards a romantic interest. Hence Slut Wall.

I finally figured it out. My face burned. “I couldn’t...”

“Why not? It lays your cards on the table,” said Janice.

“Yes, you’ve got a nice kitty,” said Alicia. “No red-blooded boy with a pulse could turn it down.”

“We’ll even join you on the Slut Wall,” volunteered Janice, “although we’ll be keeping our panties on.”

“We will?” asked Marcia.

“Will what?” asked Cilla. “Join Heather on the Slut Wall or keep our panties on?”

“I need more vodka,” I groaned, and reached for the bottle.

THE SLUT WALL, OAKEN GROVE HIGH SCHOOL

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I groused, as I reluctantly climbed onto the brick wall, joining Alicia, Marcia and Cilla who were already sitting there.

“Panty check,” announced Janice, flipping up the front of my school skirt.

I squealed, and tried to press it back down but the older girl was stronger than me.

“Nicely groomed,” Janice commented.

“Thank you, I did a bit of topiary last night before bed.”

Then before I could stop her, Janice reached in and parted my lower lips. “You need to show some pink, girl. Let him know you’re serious.” Then she let the front of my skirt slip down to cover my kitty again.

“The boys are coming now,” warned Marcia.

Janice hoisted herself onto the wall, so there were now five of us sitting in a line.

For reasons of of propriety, girls were let out fifteen minutes before boys. That left plenty of time for us to get in position.

“These bricks are hot from the sun,” I grumbled. “It’s all right for you guys, you’ve got an extra layer.”

“Stop whining, girl,” said Cilla. “Once you’ve got Luther’s attention, it will all be worth it.”

The first few boys trickled past, turning to look expectantly in our direction then scowling when they realised they weren’t to be the recipients of a display of our nether charms. As the trickle grew to a flood, some of the passing boys were unaware we were even there. But there was no sign of Luther.

“Perhaps he’s got detention,” suggested Marcia.

No, not my brother Luther, he’d never get detention.

“What, Mister Goody Two-Shoes?” snorted Alicia, agreeing with my unspoken sentiment.

“Here he comes,” announced Marcia.

“And he doesn’t look happy,” said Cilla.

He was stomping ahead of his classmates, clearly not intent on his surroundings.

I waited until Luther was level with us then flipped up the front of my skirt. “Coo-eee, Lu-ther,” I called out in a sing-song voice.

That shook Luther out of his funk, and he turned to look. Then he saw my kitty on full display. His face turned puce with rage, something I’d only seen once before when a fox had killed his favourite chicken.

Luther looked me in the eye for a scarily long moment. “Fucking whore,” he spat out, before stalking off.

Part of me knew I should have jumped off the wall and chased after him to beg for forgiveness, but my body wouldn’t respond.

“Noooo,” I wailed, pulling up the front of my skirt to cover my beetroot red face.

“He shouldn’t have called you that,” muttered Alicia.

“I don’t think that went to plan,” said Marcia.

I wailed again and buried my face even deeper in the front of my skirt, letting it soak up my tears. A couple of sympathetic arms embraced my shoulders while I cried.

“Hell, girl, that’s a mighty pretty sight, but are you sure you should be showing it to everyone?” I vaguely recognised the voice of Carter, a friend of Brendan’s. I let out another wail and buried my head between my knees, so now my kitty was covered as well as my face.

“We heard what Luther called you,” said Brendan. “There was no call for it, you’re not a whore. Something has to be done about your brother, he’s upsetting too many boys with his advances.”

“Intervention,” sang Cilla and Marcia in harmony.

“I guess you’d rather not go home and face Luther again tonight,” said Alicia sympathetically. “Why don’t you come to my place for a sleepover. You can call your parents and tell them we’re working on a school project together together.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“Brendan and I will discuss what to do about your brother,” said Janice. “I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

“We will?” asked Brendan.

I lifted my tear-stained face from between my knees. At least my face was no longer scalding hot. “Thanks guys, you’re the best.”

THE BARN, JANICE AND BRENDAN’S PARENTS’ FARM

After a sleepless night’s agonising, I decided not to go through with it. Alicia had other ideas; she turned up at my place early Saturday afternoon and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

So, just before four in the afternoon, I found myself outside the barn at Janice and Brendan’s.

“Is Luther okay? What have you done to him?” I asked.

“See for yourself,” said Brendan, opening the barn door a crack.

Luther was staked out, spreadeagled and naked, flat on the ground. He looked peaceful. Actually he looked asleep.