Chapter 7

Karen ran her fingers through her curly brown hair and looked around the bedroom, feeling useless and out of place with nothing to do. Neil and Gary were busily removing a shelf from the second, smaller closet while Sharon wandered about the room with a light meter, alternately taking readings and making adjustments on the video camera set up on a tripod in the main closet (no need to remove any shelves there). Even Stacy was hard at work, albeit reluctantly; she was taking, trip by trip, the small mountain of clothing which had previously filled the smaller closet and carrying it to a different room. She was quiet and sullen, but she did what she was told.

It was all so unbelievable! Even after Sharon had told her everything - even after they had showed her all of those pictures - Karen still found it hard to credit the story. Stacy, the Princess of Greenwood, the perfect Ice-Queen Bitch, being forced to fuck dozens of different guys at school in order to keep secret the fact that she was cheating on exams! If Karen had read it in a story (and she had read a few stories of this type), she would still have found it difficult to swallow. Really, though, it had been the pictures that had finally convinced her. After Sharon had talked to her that day in school when Ashley and her friends had stuffed Karen's locker with those magazine pictures, Gary had shown her the set of photographs taken earlier in the week at a downtown studio. There was no way that Stacy would do something like that willingly, particularly the last two outfits. The sight of Stacy in (and then out of) the black leather mini-skirt and, later, in the pink latex dress had left Karen damp with excitement, despite the fact that Stacy wasn't her type. No, not her type at all. Karen preferred larger girls; particularly brunettes. Girls like Ashley.

When they had arrived at Stacy's house that Saturday morning, the week after New Year's, Karen had been expecting Stacy to slam the door in their faces. Even after all the proof she had been shown, she had still expected that. It hadn't happened, though. Stacy had opened the door and let them in without a word. She looked angry, and more than a little bit unhappy, but she let them in. Still, it wasn't until Neil put his hand behind Stacy's neck and drew her in for a long, protracted kiss that Karen at last fully accepted everything that she had been told. Stacy didn't exactly co-operate, but she didn't pull away either. And from the way her mouth was working, she was definitely returning the kiss. Unbelievable! Yet it was happening. And if that was happening, perhaps Sharon's plan for Ashley might work as well. Karen trembled as a small shiver of excitement shot through her pudgy body.

Her type. Girls like Ashley...

Neil removed the last screw and handed it to Gary who carefully put it in his pocket. The final shelf slid out neatly, leaving the bottom half of the closet completely open. (The shelves on the top half were more permanently affixed.) There was just enough space for one person if they sat down with their legs curled up. That was going to be Sharon's post. Neil was thankful about that. There was no way he was going to spend several hours in that cramped space. He was going to be in the bigger closet with Gary and Karen. There was really no need for him to be there, as Gary had pointed out, but he wanted to be part of things again.

He wanted to see Stacy in action...

Sharon looked critically through the camera's viewfinder. The angle wasn't the best in the world - it wasn't even as good as it had been in Neil's bedroom - but it would have to do. As long as the light was OK, the pictures should turn out alright. >From where she would be sitting in the small closet, she could get pictures of the bed and most of the bedroom, but she was a little low to get the best angle for any action on the bed. And the action on the bed, of course, was the whole point of these arrangements. As well, she was forced to take the pictures through the slats in the closet door. It worked fairly well as long as she kept the camera flush against the door, but it limited her options. It would also force her to lean forward uncomfortably when taking pictures.

It was, however, the best they could do, and there was still the video camera in the walk-in closet. Perhaps if Stacy's parents had left the night before as planned they would have had time to make further modifications to Stacy's bedroom, but the parents had delayed their departure until mid-morning on Saturday. Hence, The three friends had only had a couple of hours Saturday morning until Ashley was to arrive. Not the best of circumstances in which to accomplish so tricky an objective, but things weren't going too badly.

Now, as long as nothing else went wrong...

Gary finished giving his final instructions to Stacy and gave her one final look. She appeared quite stunning in her short skirt and pink blouse, her blonde hair combed in waves over one shoulder. Sharon had both chosen the outfit and done up the hair, treating Stacy like some big barbie doll to be dressed and groomed at will. Stacy looked great and Gary approved; if that didn't work, nothing would. A quick glance around the bedroom revealed nothing out of place. Sharon was safely out of sight in the small closet, and Neil and Karen were sitting side by side in the back of the walk-in. A quick check in the upstairs bathroom reveal that Karen's "props" were in place.

Everything was ready.

Right on cue, the doorbell rang downstairs. Gary looked Stacy in the eye.

"Showtime," he told her, smiling at the hint of panic in her eyes. "You know what to do."

Stacy swallowed nervously, but nodded her agreement. She knew what to do; it had been made very clear to her. Gary gestured for her to answer the door. When she left the bedroom, he turned and squeezed past the video camera and into the closet, pulling the door shut behind him...

Stacy stopped momentarily on her way down the stairs to answer the doorbell and took a deep breath; she needed to steady her nerves. Of all the things they had forced her to do in the last couple of months, this was quite possibly the most difficult. As first, she had absolutely refused. Even when Sharon had made all the usual threats, Stacy would not go through with it. She had to draw the line somewhere. But when Gary had offered her ten credits - ten less guys to fuck - she had wavered and finally given in. She would do what they wanted. Ten less guys to fuck! That would be worth it. That would be worth almost anything.

And besides, what did she owe Ashley anyway?

Stacy was jarred from her thoughts by the sound of the doorbell being rung a second and then a third time in quick succession.

"Coming," she cried, annoyed, as she quickly jumped down the remaining stairs. Despite her irritation and nervousness, she forced a welcoming smile onto her face as she pull open the door.

"Ashley," she greeted her friend from school. "Come in."

Ashley accepted the invitation, walking in through the doorway. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a pink sweater under an expensive leather jacket. (Her parents were rich, and she always had the best clothes.) Her long, dark hair was done up into a large bun on the back of her head. A large leather purse was slung over her shoulder. The two girls exchanged greetings as they walked upstairs to Stacy's room. Their meeting was ostensibly to put together some arrangements for a class project in the spring term, but neither expected much work to be done. Particularly since Stacy's parents were out of town for the weekend and Ashley was staying the night.

Stacy led her friend into her bedroom, and the two girls flopped down into comfortable positions - Stacy on the bed and Ashley onto a large floor cushion - and began to talk. The discussion at first centred around the recent holidays, and Ashley told several funny stories about some visiting relatives from back east. As usual, her stories were humorous at someone else's expense, and she soon moved onto various people they both knew at school. Soon, as usually happened, the talk zeroed in on Ashley's unfavourable views on several of those people. Stacy let Ashley carry the conversation, but talked just enough so that her friend would not suspect that something was wrong. Just as Gary had promised her a significant reward for success, he had likewise made dire warnings regarding the consequences of failure. Stacy was desperate to succeed.

After about an hour, Stacy decided that the time had come to set things in motion.

"Want something to drink?" she asked, knowing the answer. Ashley was staying the night; that would almost certainly mean that the girls would get drunk on the contents of Stacy's father's liquor cabinet. Ashley, in particular, enjoyed the expensive brand of scotch whisky Stacy's father favoured. As expected, Ashley answered in the affirmative, and Stacy left the room to get the alcohol.

Sharon sat up as best she could in the cramped confines of the closet when she heard Stacy offer Ashley a drink. This was what they had been waiting for. Gary had liberally laced Stacy's father's scotch with his now usual mixture of drugs. With any luck, things should be underway before long. And not a moment too soon; Sharon's legs were beginning to cramp under her.

She checked the settings on her camera...

Stacy bit her lip with apprehension as Ashley took a sip from the tumbler. Would she notice anything different about the taste? The moment passed without incident, and Stacy sighed with relief, taking a sip of her own drink. Of course, why would Ashley notice anything? Stacy herself had twice been drugged in this manner - she now realized - and she had never noticed a thing. The alcohol effectively masked the taste of the drugs. Stacy took another sip of her drink, willingly subjecting herself to the effects of Gary's drugs - she would need all the help she could get - and the two girls continued their conversation.

By the end of the next hour, both girls were feeling the combined affects of the alcohol and the mixture of drugs dissolved within the alcohol. For Stacy, it was now almost a familiar experience; the slight drowsiness, the sense of dislocation and the increased sensitivity - she had felt it all before. Ashley, on the other hand, had never previously experienced the effects of these particular drugs. Hence, she put the strange feelings down to the effect of alcohol on an empty stomach (she hadn't eaten lunch). In a way, it felt kind of pleasant, kind of like drifting, but with a sensual warmth down deep in her stomach.

"Another drink?" Stacy got up and took Ashley's now empty glass. Ashley started to answer (in the affirmative), but before she could say anything, Stacy had hurried out of the room, not even waiting for an answer. Normally, Ashley might have found this behaviour extremely puzzling - it was usually Ashley who instigated and encouraged the drinking - but her powers of perception were somewhat blurred. She got up to stretch her legs and walked over to the window. It was getting quite hot in the bedroom, she noticed, perhaps she should open a window. She reached up and...

"What are you doing?" Stacy had returned with the two glasses and the bottle of scotch.

"I'm just g-going to open the window," Ashley answered, stammering slightly in an effort to enunciate the words. The scotch was really affecting her. She took a deep breath. "It's hot in here." Her upper lip was damp with perspiration.

"I know," Stacy agreed. She put the glasses down on the table and poured two more stiff drinks. "But you can't open the window." She too was being careful not to slur her words. "My dad gets pissed off about wasted heat during the winter." She crossed the room and handed the full glass to Ashley. "He's kinda weird about stuff like that." She shrugged her shoulders apologetically.

"But, it's fucking hot in here," Ashley whined, accepting the glass. "I'm, like, melting." She swallowed a large mouthful of scotch.

Stacy appeared to think for a moment, and then put down her glass and began unbuttoning her blouse.

"Take your sweater off then." In a moment, she was stripped down to her bra. Ashley hesitated for a second, but then put the drink down on a side table and slipped her pink sweater up over her head, exposing large breasts barely constrained by a bra. She pulled the sweater free of her head and shook loose her hair (partly destroying carefully constructed bun on the back of her head) just in time to see Stacy unclip and remove her bra.

"Stacy!"

Ashley was a little embarrassed. They had seen each other naked often enough before and after gym class at school, but not like this. It seemed different, somehow, to be standing naked like this in Stacy's bedroom, slightly drunk. Still... it was quite hot... and the bra strap got more than a little itchy when she sweated... Why not? Shrugging her shoulders, Ashley followed suit, slipping the straps of her bra off her shoulders and unfastening the bra, revealing her own breasts.

Gary peered intently through the slats on the closet door as Ashley's large, firm breasts popped free of confinement and into view. Impressed, he brought his still camera up and snapped a quick shot, making certain that Stacy, also topless, was in the picture. It was almost time to start running the video camera. As he took the picture, he felt a gentle shove from behind.

"Let me see," Neil whispered, trying to look over Gary's shoulder and around the tripod. Gary pushed him back, frowning. He brought a finger up to his lips, gesturing angrily for silence. Did Neil want to fuck it up for everyone? Gary pointed towards the floor of the closet, where Karen sat in patient silence. Neil looked like he wanted to argue the point, but gave in and sat down, sulking.

Gary turned back to the action in the bedroom.

"Here, I'll put that away." Stacy reached over for the sweater and bra, "accidentally" brushing the back of her hand across Ashley's tits. Ashley flinched slightly, but handed over the clothing without comment. She watched as her friend hung them on a hook on the back of the door.

"Thanks."

"No problem." Stacy padded back across the room towards the tall brunette. She crossed in front of her - once again brushing against Ashley's breasts - and picked up her friend's glass. "Here's your drink."

As Stacy walked across the room, Ashley couldn't help but notice how sleek and fit Stacy looked. Secretly, Ashley wished that she had that kind of body - thin, muscular thighs, tight stomach and smallish, firm breasts. Ashley, on the other hand, was more lush in form, although her large breasts were firm enough to stand up on their own without the aid of a bra. She knew she was beautiful - indeed, she took if for granted - but she still admired her friend's physique. If only...

She was surprised to find her nipples hardening as she watched Stacy. Suddenly embarrassed and shy, she turned away and crossed her arms in front of her breasts, taking a large sip of the scotch. She quickly regained her composure, and the two girls, now topless, resumed their former positions and continued the conversation. They carried on talking for another half hour or so, with the conversation becoming more and more disjointed as the drugs took their affect. Eventually, Stacy asked Ashley to bring the now half-empty bottle to her on the bed. Ashley complied, moving carefully in order to compensate for the lack of co-ordination brought about by the alcohol, but when she tried to move away after handing over the bottle, Stacy gestured for her to lie down beside her on the bed.

"What?" Ashley's head was spinning slightly.

"Just lie down," Stacy told her soothingly. "Relax. I think the booze is hitting us harder than we expected."