Chapter 3

I slept pretty well Friday night; only woke up a few times to cum and judging from the mess, probably slept through a few more. But either way by morning I was sticky, sloppy, sweaty, and stinky, and so I took a quick shower without getting my hair wet.

Donnie barged in naked just as I was drying myself. For a moment I froze, then I covered myself, then I decided what the hell? Me the new whack slut.

"Are you still going to Greg's wrestling meet today?" he asked from behind his usual giant erection.

"Yeah, so what?"

"Just asking. You want me to cum on you?"

"Don't be a pervert," I warned him.

"Well, some girls like it. Some guys, too. Turns 'em on, even after it dries."

But by then I was getting sloppy again. Damn. Was it because of my brother? I gagged at the idea. I had no interest in him, sexually or otherwise. But if not him, then what?

His stiff oversized cock did seem more attractive, less gross, more appetizing, or whatever than usual, though. Shit, did I really just think that? But maybe I should just try getting some on me, I thought. Other girls did. My mom even let him cum on her sometimes, just for inspection, she said. A couple of times I thought Stacy might have had some dried-on cum oh her. Not Donnie's but still. I wondered how it would feel, having my brother's cum on me. Gross, probably, but also new, possibly interesting. Maybe gross was my new normal. Or my new pastime. Ew.

I wondered how it would taste. Maybe I could just just get some on my finger. Maybe I could jerk him off. I couldn't actually suck off my own brother, could I? I mean I could physically, but could I stand to? What would Mom say? But she was downstairs dealing with her own issues about then. And it was her decision to get us both juiced. What did she expect?

Except that by then Donnie had shot his wad on the shower wall, tried to make his cock go down, and eventually gone in the back yard to take a piss. Well, at least he hadn't cum on me. But maybe next time. Speaking of which it only took a few second of stroking to work off my latest unwanted attack of deeply debilitating sexual ecstasy, after which I wiped up and snuck naked to my room. Fucking pervert brother.

Once again the indecision, once again the agony, once again the torment: bottoms or not? But in the end I really had no choice. I was a whack slut, a cum slut, nearly did it with my own perverted oversexed brother slut, thinking about doing it next time slut, out of control. Anything I wore down below would just get sticky and sloppy and stinky and then I'd have to ditch it anyway. Oh well, gotta play the part.

But I still wanted to dress nice for Greg's wrestling meet. Nice as I could with my bottom half naked and me slipping, sliding, and slurping my way through a day of near-constant orgasms. Yessiree, that was me all right: nice, pure, sweet, innocent, well-behaved Ronnie waving her juiced-up cunt at the whole world all day. Go figure. Go deal with it. Fucking injection.

First I tried a t-shirt but it hung over my pussy and that meant it'd get wet. Then I tried a sports bra but it didn't have the school colors or logo. Then I found an old crop top that did have the school logo and decided it would have to do. At least it wasn't faded. I used to wear it with jeans or shorts but oh well.

I slipped on some sandals and my phone and then stared at myself in the mirror and nearly puked. There I was, bare assed, bare legged, bare-hipped, waving my pussy for everyone to see. I took off the crop top to see if my tits could draw attention away from my pussy but decided not. Plus, I didn't feel like walking around totally naked. Although Greg did and I liked that. But no, half naked was better for me than fully naked so I put the crop top back on and slithered downstairs.

Mom, fortunately, seemed to have calmed down a bit. While I was eating breakfast she came twice, nearly fell down once, and probably ruined her golf pants, but at least she wasn't out of control like the night before.

Donnie and his huge protruding cock came in from the back yard a few minutes later but, except for cumming on Mom a couple of times, he pretty much behaved himself. Mom noticed but didn't clean herself up except for licking some off her arm. And I'd been worried.

At the tube I found a seat in the third car and then texted ahead so Greg could find me when we got to his station. A couple of pervert kids were staring at me but it wasn't like they had clothes on or anything. Screw 'em, I thought, but of course not really. Then the train reached Greg's station and he slipped in next to me. Close. Very close.

Our eyes met. Our naked hips touched. Our thighs pressed together. He reached across my back and held my shoulder. His cock was getting stiff even before I touched it. I started oozing. And so, I realized, we were going to cum again. Were the episodes really coming faster? He didn't usually come on that fast. Nor I, of course, big time. But it was becoming familiar in an oh-no-here-comes-that-shit-again sort of way.

"Good morning!" he greeted me.

"Yeah, good one," I grunted as I reached for his cock and stroked him. He tried to reach my stuff but his opposite arm wouldn't reach.

"That's OK, I'm doing fine just being close to you," I assured him. The two pervert kids were having a field day.

"Are you going to cum?" my boyfriend asked with a waver in his voice.

"Yeah, if yesterday was any indication, probably ten or twelve times today. But it's not because of anything; it's just from being juiced. Well, I mean, right now it is, I'm turned on rubbing next to you and so forth, although I think the juicing is making it stronger. But there's gonna be other times when..."

"Oh, just shut up," Greg spat out, and then he came all over the back of the seat in front of us. But then, just as I'd almost done with Donnie, I picked up some of it on my finger and licked it. One of the naked pervert kids said, "Ew," but then I blew open and bucked and writhed and screamed for about thirty seconds so I'm not sure what he did after that.

"Easy there," Greg cautioned, and then I realized I still had hold of his cock.

"Oh, I hope I didn't..." I began.

"No, it's all right. It'll survive. Just, you know, enough is enough. Why'd you lick that up?"

"I don't know, just to try it, I guess. If I'm gonna be a disgusting perverted sex-crazed supercharged gross whack slut anyway I might as well try things."

He seemed a little put off by that but maybe a little bit interested as well. Fucking injection.

"So how was it?" he wondered.

"It was good," I assured him mildly, but in fact my mouth was tingling with new sensations. It was more of a rush than any sort of taste. What was that? Had the juicing affected my mouth as well? Shit, what had they pumped into me? Maybe I should've asked the doctor more questions. Maybe Mom knew. Maybe she'd even tell me. Oh well, I grabbed another lick. And another. I thought about blowing him but then we got to the station.

The Bald Mountain tube stop was teeming with wrestlers, most already naked, and a multitude of fans. Some of the fans were naked in support of the team, some were fully dressed in school colors, and some were in between. Spirits were high. The wrestlers kept bumping into each other and the fans kept cheering them on. Greg was bumping into boys and girls alike but mostly into a powerfully-built girl wrestler named Shauna Gildt.

The girl wrestlers always looked a little strange to me – heavily-built, heavily muscular, and small chested. But Shauna, if anything, exceeded the prototype. She was one rock-hard and formidable wrestler. I guess some people are into that but I'd never suspected Greg. Or was he?

Another girl was hanging around Shauna too, just a fan, wearing a full set of clothes and watching Shauna's supposed team bonding ritual. I hadn't seen her before and believe me, I would've remembered. She was quite the opposite of Shauna: slim, fit, and curvaceous with beautiful long blonde hair, a complexion to die for, and generally all-around drop-dead gorgeous, even in a world of nanite injections. Nice clothes, I supposed, although my interest in that was waning.

Greg stayed with Shauna a long time, not circulating from teammate to teammate as he usually did. They just kept bumping and rubbing and generally whooping it up, both naked and both right in front of me. I tried telling myself it was just team bonding and attitude building but couldn't be totally sure. They'd never paid each other much attention before, at least that I'd seen. Was there some chemistry between them I didn't know about? Was Greg so into wrestling that now he wanted a wrestler girlfriend? Was my new way-overboard sex drive too much for him? And why was miss pretty two-shoes (let alone all her other clothes) hanging around the two of them? Was she waiting for her own turn with Greg?

But neither girl was Greg's type, I told myself. I was Greg's type and neither girl seemed anything like me. But lately I hadn't been much like myself either. I'd changed. Was Greg starting to look around? Was this the end?

But then Greg broke away and found me, and we hugged, and he came against my thigh and I felt better. Way better. Just to prove it I didn't wipe it up, although I did scoop some up on my finger and rolled it around my mouth. That brought back the same tingling sensation as before and revved up my flow. Greg didn't know what I was feeling, of course; he just knew that I'd scooped up his cum and eaten it. Once again that seemed to surprise him. Hell, it surprised me, the new cum slut. I'd certainly never been in the habit. Damn injection.

Then before I could cum again, which wasn't long, the coach called the team together and led them into the wrestling room for matchups and final instructions. That left me outside with the rest of the fans and camp-followers, and that's when Vox's juiced-up friend Jezzy showed up.

"Going to watch the meet?" I asked Jezzy after she saw me staring – staring as if I, out in public with my sloppy naked lower half completely on display, was nothing to stare at myself. She was dressed in pink flats and a purple Lycra tank top but at least she wasn't sloppy. I tried to hold it back and succeeded for the moment.

"Yeah, I'm starting to hit it off with Wes," she revealed. "But fancy meeting you here! So how long's it been?

"Well, since last night at the water park," I replied uncertainly.

"No, since you came," Jezzy explained.

"Oh, about twenty minutes ago, on the tube," I replied. "Greg and I were sitting together and I kinda did us both." But I was still teetering on cumming again. Still teetering from sucking up Greg's cum. And then suddenly I noticed what a nice cunt Jezzy had. How had I not noticed that before? Since when had I started to look at girls that way? Since the injection, of course. Damn. But she was starting to lubricate as well. A naked guy a few feet away got an erection and I think his fully dressed friend did too. And so, I reflected, it begins.

"Yeah, we're strong together," Jezzy observed after noticing the same two guys. "Shall we get it over with?"

"Uh, maybe we should," I allowed. "Greg won't be sitting with me on the tube."

"All the benches are taken. Looks like we need to use the stairs," Jezzy decided, and so we each rented a couple of fresh towels from the dispenser, used one to sit on and one to wipe, and did ourselves together on the tube station stairs just like two shameless juiced-up wanton woozy whack sluts.

Three or four textile guys tried to watch without our noticing but their spasms gave them away. Some riders had to maneuver around us as they entered or left the station.

One guy asked if he could keep my towel but I told him I needed the deposit back. Then he offered to pay my deposit and so I gave him the damn thing. Almost immediately he started sniffing it and got erect. I just sighed, turned away, and decided last time for that.

"Do you want to sit together?" I asked Jezzy as the team filtered back out. They were all naked then, even the coach and trainers. Hell of a uniform but fun to watch after you got used to it. Greg and Shauna were walking together but not touching.

"Sure, let's," she replied, and so we boarded the tube to Rockover High together. Not that anything was going on between us. Just like there wasn't with Greg and Shauna. Although I still liked her cunt. Jezzy's. Weird.

Jezzy and I took two seats facing forward and two business-looking guys took the seats across from us, facing back. They were both wearing trendy business suits: cuffed shorts, a vest, a white shirt, and a loose-fitting necktie. One guy's suit was gray, the other blue pinstripe. Gray Guy was also wearing black tights. Both were all eyes but trying not to show it.

Jezzy slithered close to my ear and whispered, "These guys seem to want a show. Let's have some fun with them, OK? I think we can bring it off."

I looked back at her and raised one eyebrow. She smiled, nodded, and raised both eyebrows in return. I paused a moment, then sighed and threw her a quizzical look.

"Take my lead," she whispered, and then she sat back, opened her legs, stared straight at the guy on her side – the one in gray – and touched her clitty.

So there we were, both naked from the waist down and sitting without crossing our legs. In fact, quite the opposite. Jezzy took it in stride but for me it was a totally new experience. I mean, already I'd been walking around, showing everything to everybody anyway and appreciating the ventilation. But opening up really wide and just flaunting myself to two conservative strangers seemed a little over the top. Hey, I was new.

But certainly they'd noticed how we were dressed – or not—before they sat down. And we were on the tube. We were in a public place. It's not like they could attack us or anything. So was I going to be a trashy whacky whack slut or not? If I was stuck with it I might as well explore it, I mused. And so I followed Jezzy's lead and opened up wider and just lightly touched my clit.

Blue Guy across from me lit up almost right away. Gray Guy across from Jezzy was lit up already. Both were watching us intently, mostly our junk and hands, but occasionally a furtive look at our faces as well. Jezzy looked them right back like, "What are you going to do about it?" and then so did I.

Both guys' shorts were fairly loose-fitting but I could see their erections anyway. I mean, every month dicks seemed to get bigger and these were pressing pretty hard against the fabric. The bigger the dick the baggier the pants, I supposed, but still the bigger the pole the higher the tent.

Neither guy was rubbing himself. Jezzy and I were still barely touching ourselves, hardly moving at all. What little movement there was came from the rocking of the train. Blue Guy started to get up then realized how hard his dick was pressing again his pants and sat back down. Gray Guy started to panic then slouched down and tugged on the fabric to give himself more room but I think his tights were holding him down. Blue Guy was sweating bullets and kept looking around to see if anyone was watching.

Jezzy smirked. I was fascinated. Were we actually doing it to these guys without even moving? And they weren't jerking off, either, just watching us. Or maybe staring into space. Blue Guy's eyes had rolled inside his head. Gray Guy seemed about to say something but didn't. Then a woman's voice behind me gasped, whooped and screamed. A child's voice asked, "Momma, what's happening?" The conductor approached us but had to sit down a few rows away. Any strap-hangers within twenty feet were looking down at themselves incredulously, even the girls.

When the train got to the next station Blue Guy tried to get up again but collapsed as his dick got crushed inside his pants. He tried to rearrange himself but succeeded only in getting his head above the belt line. Which he loosened. The belt. Not a bad head, though.

The people behind us managed to get off but some innocent new strangers replaced them. Some of the riders moved away but others moved closer. I could see the guys' dicks get larger as they approached and smaller as they moved away.

Jezzy was playing her part, not looking at me, ignoring all the other passengers, just drilling it into Gray Guy, watching him every second. The train lurched and he nearly lost it.

Both guys seemed about to cum when Jezzy poked me with her elbow. She'd pulled her hand away from her clitty, I realized, and then so did I. This, however, provided Gray Guy and Blue Guy no relief, only more torture. They were starting to wince and writhe from their overswollen cocks. Blue Guy moaned and finally grabbed himself. Jezzy crossed her legs and then so did I. Blue Guy kept moaning but didn't cum.

Rapidly we passed a set of signal lights. The car's levitation was silky smooth but there was still a certain sway and vibration. Gray Guy tried to open his shorts but his tights still held him in. Blue Guy was in a panic and frozen to his seat.

I wondered how Jezzy and I were able to keep those guys on the edge. Without even touching them. With barely touching ourselves. Without putting on any kind of dance or show. Sure we were bottomless but it wasn't that rare. Some of the other riders were naked, others partially. Could that be doing it? No, it never had before. It had to be us affecting the passengers. Blue Guy and Gray Guy probably had co-workers who went naked. If nakedness was the trigger, they should've been used to it rather than frozen in place and sweating bullets.

A naked strap-hanger went rigid and spewed on a woman's arm. Fortunately she didn't seem terribly offended and, after a quick taste, didn't bother to clean it up. Maybe that's what she wanted. She had, after all, chosen a seat with his rigid member bobbing right in her face.

A woman in high heels nearly fell down when it hit her except that at the last minute she managed to grab a handrail. Another one in a rather open black lace dress hopped up and down and then doubled over, landing on a construction worker.

But Jezzy and I still had our two guys on the edge. Every time she thought one of them was about to lose it she'd bump me and we'd both back off. I still don't know how she judged it that close. She was no beginner, though; of that I was sure.

By the time we got to the Rockover High station both guys were suffering and drenched. But just before we got off Jezzy gave herself a couple of full strokes, and so did I, and then both guys screamed and lost it.

Greg, Shauna, and her friend had ridden with the rest of the team in another car. Silently I hoped they'd behaved themselves.

"How long have you been doing this?" I asked Jezzy on the platform.

"You were there; about twenty minutes," she replied, "but I'm more desperate than I look. Help me out, OK?" Then she pulled me behind a newsstand, drew my neck to her shoulder, grabbed my pussy and stroked. It only took a few moments. I grabbed her the same way and then we swayed and rocked for a couple of minutes at least. I couldn't believe I'd done that with a girl but I guessed any port in a storm. Even right there on the tube platform. I hoped no one on the wrestling team had seen us.

Of course we were sopping wet. I had a mixture of my pussy juice and hers running down my leg and so did she. It tasted different than cum, but it still gave me a certain zing. But after several more swipes with my finger I just toweled myself dry the best that I could.

Blue Guy and Gray Guy were asking around for a walk-in dry cleaners'.

Together the whole team left the station, walked to Rockover High, and headed straight for the visitors' dressing room. Honest, that's what they called it, even though the athletes are always naked. There was certainly no need for modesty but even so the room was closed to outsiders. Secret team stuff, Greg always said. But did all the secrets pertain to wrestling?

He'd probably looked for me after we got to the Rockover station. He'd probably seen me. Had he seen me with Jezzy? Probably. No wait, we'd been behind the newsstand and only hugged and stroked each other a few seconds. He probably hadn't noticed. But had anyone else? And would they tell him? What about on the train? No wait; there was nothing to see. All we'd done was sit quietly and barely touch our pussies. Would anybody else realize it was us causing the general arousal? And if so, would they tell Greg?

Greg and Shauna were obviously naked together in the dressing room but I told myself that was normal. The whole team was naked every day at every practice and every meet. I'd never considered Shauna a rival before. Why now?

Shauna's drop-dead gorgeous – or maybe just drop-dead – friend was standing by herself off to the side and waiting. I couldn't believe no one was hitting on her. Maybe she'd tell me what was going on. Jezzy was checking messages on her phone so I just strolled over to possible public enemy number two and asked, "Are you here to watch the meet?"

"Huh? Oh hi, yeah, my sister Shauna's on the team," she replied and then she turned away.

Maybe it was my naked cunt, I thought. Some clothers just didn't like naked people. Like me, or at least half of me.

I mean, before I met Greg – and certainly before I got juiced – I never used to like naked people either. But if anybody ever looked good naked, it was him. Plus, he was a really great guy, and maybe that's why I started wanting to see all of him. Then I got used to seeing the wrestling team naked and eased up a little more. But I still wasn't really into it. I'd been much more likely to ignore naked people than look straight back at them. And I certainly didn't like being naked myself.

Going half naked, flaunting my stuff, and cumming in public still weren't exactly my cup of tea. Pretty fucked, eh? And that was just a fraction of the shit from being juiced. But if primly-clothed gorgeous Miss Gildt's sister didn't like naked people, maybe she'd keep away from Greg. Except that she did apparently hang around with her muscle-babe naked sister Shauna. Maybe they were into each other, and that'd solve both problems at once. They say opposites attract. And if she didn't like naked people, why was she there, planning to spend the day watching naked people wrestle in public?

"Me too," I explained before she could get away. "Well, not a brother or a sister, but my boyfriend's on the team."

"Are you juiced?" she asked warily.

"Yeah, just this week. My mom made me do it. It actually sucks but..."

"Well I don't like the way it makes me feel," she asserted, and then she moved near a security guard.

I was going to ask her to sit with us but oh well.

Eventually the team came out and everybody cheered as they trotted into the gym and started warming up. Jezzy and I almost got trampled giving Greg a pat on the butt but somehow we managed to give Wes one as well. Of course being inside the throng of jostling naked bodies made me, guess what, hot.

Jezzy went in the washroom to clean up but the place was crowded and after our experience on the tube, I thought being a little sticky might not be that bad. Or maybe I was just getting tired of cleaning up all the time. So instead I bought a soda, rented a fresh towel, and then went in the gym to find a seat.

Suddenly I couldn't believe it: me, running around a wrestling meet half naked, no pants, nothing below the waist, showing everything to everybody, still hot and sticky. And that wasn't the worst thing I'd done since getting up, not even close. What was happening to me? This was more than just cumming a few extra times. How could I do this, I thought? And yet I did.

Juicers and naked kids seemed to be taking the left side of the bleachers and textiles the right, so against my better judgment I headed for the center. I felt every eyeball in the place staring at me, even the ones turned away. But somehow I found an empty spot, unfolded my towel, and hoped I'd merge into the crowd.

Somehow my hand found my clitty but I just let it stay. It was sort of on autopilot, in case anyone asked. Which they didn't. Drain the pressure. Satisfy the need. Although it did seem pretty soon to be doing that again. But I didn't stop. As long as I was sitting down with my hand below shoulder level, I thought maybe not that many people would notice.

I watched the other goings-on to the left and they didn't seem all that bad. People were occasionally bumping and jostling each other as the area filled up but there really wasn't that much fucking and cumming. But then I started really heating up and the textiles started frowning at me and my hand and my sopping cunt so I moved away from them a bit. Then Jezzy found me and took the next seat.

"That was pretty fine control you had there on the tube," I observed. Having someone to talk to seemed to distract me and cool me down a bit but I still kept on rubbing. Jezzy, of course, took it in stride.

"Yeah, well, it's something I keep practicing. You were good too. We're strong together." And of course by then she was stroking herself as well.

"What does that mean?"

"I think when the two of us are together we turn more people on than we would alone. I guess it's having good chemistry."

"Does juicing do that? Give you pheromones or something?"

"Beats me; I was never into science. Non-juicers turn people on too, you know. Although not as much, obviously."

"How long have you been juiced?" I asked suddenly.

"Over a year and a half. I had a helluvva tough time talking my parents into it but then I threatened to skip birth control and they caved. My aunt and her wife had it done too. I guess they're some number."

"You kept it up, though, huh? Like, you never wanted to be yourself again?"

"Naw, this is me. Before was boring. Sex is fun. Why not have lots?"

"So what all does it affect? I know cumming a lot, even for no reason, but what about taste, smell, brazenness, arousing others, anything else? Shit, I can't believe I'm making this much pussy juice in a day. I can't believe how much cum my brother makes. What else... ?"

"Look, I'm just in it for the ride," Jezzy stated. "Being juiced just seems normal now. Sounds like you got a fun brother, though."

Wes's match was before the intermission and he won it with a pin in the second period. We were sitting between four naked girls on my right and a juiced couple on Jezzy's left. Both of us came a couple of times and everyone around us took it in stride. I mean, we weren't exactly the only ones.

By intermission my towel was pretty wet and I was even messier than before so I casually slopped my way into a washroom. Like most places, Rockover High had merged the Boys and Girls rooms but it was still pretty crowded. All kinds of stuff was going on. People kept touching and bumping into me. Some of it seemed accidental but I was pretty sure some people were copping a feel.

I'd just finished dampening my towel and cleaning myself up when, among all the other chaos, I noticed a guy aiming the hand-drier into his pants. They were unzipped and he was holding them open and the blast made them flap. Not something you see every day. Then he noticed me watching, froze for a few seconds like a deer in headlights, freaked out, and quickly turned his back.

I thought the guy might've been weird but he still had me curious. I'd been pretty weird myself the previous couple of days and he wasn't bad looking -- not as solid as Greg but blonde, thin, square-shouldered, and well-proportioned. Other than what he was doing he didn't look like a nerd, geek, freak, or nut case. In fact, after what I'd been through the past couple of days, he looked refreshingly normal. Even if he did seem to be masturbating with the hand drier. And I was curious. Who the hell masturbates with a hand drier?

"Are you doing OK there?" I asked him. At first he didn't answer so I called louder, "You there! Hand drier!"

"Oh, yeah, sorry. It's just, well, I'm trying to get these pants dry. It's embarrassing. It looks like I peed in them but it's not that, it's cum. As if cumming in my pants was any better. And it's not even my fault because I got juiced. I mean, it's my fault I got juiced but not that I came in my pants. It just happened and I couldn't stop it. I'm sorry if I upset you. I just..."

"Are you new? Like, did you get juiced recently?" I interjected. He didn't seem to have that flagrancy and bravado that long-timers like my perverted brother had. He did have an erection, though, which he was struggling to hide without touching it. Lost cause but oh well.

"About a week ago. My ex-girlfriend talked me into it. But now I keep cumming in my pants and it looks like I peed in them and I hate it. I'm sorry, I don't mean to dump on you. It's just frustrating."

For a moment I thought he was looking at my cunt rather than my eyes, then realized it was probably my autopilot hand. Once again, though, I didn't bother to stop. Maybe he liked it, I thought. Although why should I care what some strange guy likes? But I needed it so I kept on.