Chapter 13: Jenny's Story

A gym class laid out Jenny Shipley's future when she was just 8 years old.

Taking a run on a long mat to do a tumbling flip, Jenny felt comfortable about what she was being asked to do. But she'd rather be back in the library reading a book than wearing tight, skimpy clothes in a big gymnasium.

Jenny was bright enough to be easily among the brightest kids in her school. But because she was pretty, very blonde and in no need of glasses, no one perceived her as anything other than cheerleader material. A Blonde. Big "b."

Oh, and she had curves from a little too early on in all the right/wrong places -- wrong if you want to be taken seriously. And except for an aunt who, too, had been a little too blonde for her own good, no one in her family realized (or cared, probably) that Jenny Shipley was a genius, a would-be prodigy given an outlet.

Natural history and geology were the early forerunners, but her mother had already thrown out one meticulously gathered rock collection in confusion and anger. That Christmas, everyone was urged to give her Barbie stuff, and all did except for Aunt Kristen -- who gave her a world atlas in secret. It currently provided a firm backing under her mattress, as Jenny took it out almost nightly. She could name and find (and spell!) every country in the world and no one in her family gave a damn.

But Jenny, even though she was drawing admiring glances by the few men she encountered (as well as a few of her classmates of both sexes), was all about doing the task at hand, and right now, that was gym class. Jenny, intent on the tumbling run, came at the takeoff point a little too fast and went head over heels off the end of the cushion. There was an immediate concern about her injuring herself -- a fear compounded when Jenny fell flat, one leg grotesquely behind her head, the other bent at an angle unnatural at best, horrifically dislocated at worst. But Jenny was fine. She stood up, leg still behind her head, but easily shook it out and lowered it into its proper place.

Mary Ann Giancotti, who regularly attended junior gym meets and gym classes seeking this very thing, quickly found out the name of the pretty not-so-little blonde who was amazingly double jointed. She would soon set about making her one of her girls, but for now she was content to watch.

Once Jenny assured the instructors she was fine, she attempted the tumbling run again and pulled it off without a hitch.

Mary Ann sought out Jenny's mother at a school function soon after.

"Mrs.Shipley?" she introduced herself with her brightest smile, "I can almost guarantee your daughter a college scholarship if she becomes a cheerleader."

Only then realizing who she was meeting, Kathy Shipley was surprised and flattered.

"Scholarship?" was about all she could respond.

"I think she's pretty enough and has some raw talent we can work with at Carson High," Mary Ann added. "Of course, she'd have to commit to learning cheering at the middle school."

"My daughter's a pretty serious student..." Kathy said uncertainly.

"Good! That's great! She could be a real leader at school," Mary Ann encouraged. "I just wanted you to be aware of Jenny's potential. I don't come on strong like this very often, but I'd hate to see her..." body, Mary Ann thought, " ... talent be wasted."

And so Kathy Shipley passed that information along to her daughter, who was less than eager to hear she was cheerleader material.

"But a scholarship? Honey, you know we're trying hard to line up your college," Kathy said. "But that's less than 10 years away and that's not very long. You need to consider your options."

"I understand my options, Mom," Jenny said. "But that doesn't mean I have to like all of them. Why do you dismiss an academic scholarship for me?"

"Sweetie, those things are only for the best of the best," she said in a familiar condescending tone. "You're my one and only and I love you to death, but we have to be realistic."

After a Christmas that was laden with Cheerleader Barbie gifts, Jenny went from disliking the idea of cheering to actively hating it. There was just one small problem: she was a natural. Her fake smile was radiant, her natural commitment was perceived as that perky kind of energy intrinsic to cheerleading, her understanding that it was a job to be done made her one of the best of her age group when reliability was in short supply. But the hours of practice and game nights kept her away from the other after-school activities she desired -- Science Fair, chess club, the simple joy of discovering a new book in the library or the Internet.

She also hated it when other cheerleaders repeatedly asked her to show off one of her amazingly flexible moves that none of them could touch. She could lay on her chest and touch her nose with both of her big toes. She could fold herself up to fit in a medium-sized gym bag. She could stand flat-footed with one leg and stretch her other directly against a door frame and touch the top of the frame flat-footed.

And, although no one would ever know, she could lick her own pussy. She had an unusually long, developed tongue thanks to years of trying to make the connection as she grew up. She was 10 when she first connected with her clit -- testing her limits one night, she found out there were none -- and also discovered she could easily bring herself off. She was sure she was the only girl her age who knew that girl juice tasted different than pee or sweat. She liked the taste, too, and researched what it was composed of. However, her family monitored her computer use and soon firewalled her home computer against anything to do with the human body or sex.

The boys at Carson Middle heard about her perfect splits, her radiant blonde hair and were all too aware of her early blossoming boobs. More than once, late at night, she would angrily cry alone in her room because she wanted a different life, but knew she should not be selfish or childish.

She knew she was pretty. She knew her body was better than most of her classmates. She was also very aware she possessed a brain that should let her accomplish anything she desired with a little bit of wiggle room. She should be counting her blessings, not hating them, but her mom caught her with a bottle of brown hair dye and was given the worst punishment of her life for thinking about changing her golden locks: her computer was taken away.

Jenny easily made the ninth-grade squad -- she wanted no part of trying out for the varsity despite Mary Ann's secret urging of her mother -- and was in that kind of funk the day that Brittany Wright served her a piece of fudge and glass of home-made lemonade. And Jenny was clueless that Mary Ann (now) Mathews did not have her best interests at heart when she sat down to speak with her that day.

"Why do you still do it? It's awful hard work," Mary Ann said.

"Because I can do this," Jenny replied, hooking her leg over her head and bending forward until she touched the ground with her toe.

Mary Ann felt an electric thrill. She had some special thoughts that she would not share with me before the programming stage. But as we prepared to enslave the freshmen and their moms, she hit me with it.

"Jenny is so gifted athletically, she's a dream fuck," Mary Ann told me.

"But she's at the top of her class, right? Isn't she a potential doctor or lawyer?" I asked as the little coach massaged my cock with her pussy muscles.

"But she's almost at the point where she treats her beauty and her other skills as a drawback," Mary Ann complained, squeezing me for effect. "I'm worried she'll let herself go and be some kind of plain Jane geek."

"Won't happen," I assured her. "Thanks for the insight." And had I sat down to talk with Jenny at that moment, I would have snuffed a brilliant mind. But Mary Ann was not my only source of reference -- nor was she anything close to being an equal partner in this process.

When I approached Jenny, I could almost see anger pushing its way through her programmed passivity. I wanted to do this one right -- she was one hot little girl.

"Jenny Shipley," I began, extremely horny already."You will be thrilled and excited every time someone asks you to bend your body in provocative ways. You love everything your body enables you to do and enjoy your ability to do it. You will remain diligent in your studies, but being a cheerleader is the most important thing in your life as long as you are in school. You love to show off your body while sunbathing and are comfortable dressing provocatively even while being studious. You will sleep and do homework in the nude whenever you can. You are 50 percent lesbian and enjoy tasting other cheerleaders as well as having them taste you, and the same goes for your coaches. Your are a slave to Michael Wright and his family, but you are lovingly devoted to Michael because he loves you for your mind as well as your body. You will make the most of your intellect and not be offended or defensive when others sell you short. In fact, if you can surprise them intellectually, you will. Your passion for learning and for sex will remain equally strong and your goal will be to become a skilled lawyer who works only for me."