On the morning she was to beat Lindsey Sweetwater for the honor of going to the Michigan state beauty pageant championship, Lola Loud woke from a strange dream feeling even stranger. In it, she was at the nationals in Washington. Thousands of people were crammed into a vast auditorium to see her perform and millions more watched on TV. The entire country had grinded to a halt to see the most beautiful girl in America assume her rightful throne. Crime rates plummeted, streets stood empty, and businesses closed because everyone was at home gaping at the utter beauty of Lola Loud.
She went out on stage like she had a million times before. The lights were hot and bright and she couldn't see the audience very clearly, but she knew they were there; she could feel their eyes, sense their excitement. Being there, adored by the whole world, stirred Lola in a way she had rarely been stirred before. The fabric of her dress scraped her rigid little nipples and the roll of her hips created hot, eye rolling friction between her thighs. She was blushing and panting for air when she reached the end of the catwalk, surrounded by fans on three sides. A deep hush fell over them as they admired her, and the heat in Lola's middle grew exponentially hotter. She ran her hands over her chest, tracing the dips and curves of her own body and softly rubbing her nipples through her dress.
Everyone watched, getting just as hot as she was.
Finally, she undid the straps of her dress and slid them down her shoulders. The dress fell to the floor, pooling around her ankles, and she stood naked before the entire world. She stepped out of the dress and let her fans drink in her body. She turned, grinned slyly over her shoulder, and shook her butt as if to say come and get it. She bit her bottom lip and, keeping her legs straight, bent at the waist, showing every living man, woman, and child her sticky pink center. Their eyes caressed her like ghostly hands, and she basked in their adoration. Hands touched her, stroked her, brushed themselves over her budding breasts. She threw her head back and phantom lips skimmed the side of her throat, her feet, her butt. Her breathing came in short, hot bursts and her eyes hazed with lust. Palms, warm and velvety, ran up her flanks, over her stomach, between her legs. A tiny uh escaped her bobbing throat and her heart pounded like thunder in her chest, making one tiny mound of flushed flesh dance and jiggle.
Out there, in the shadows, billions of people leaned forward in their seats, mouths open, and worshipped her with their eyes. She could feel them wanting her, needing her, begging her, and knowing that she was the most desired woman to ever live made her feel faint with delight. A rough, scratchy touch lashed her earlobe, and she winced in discomfort. Another attacked her face and chin, scouring her flesh and killing the mood. The lights, warm against her skin, began to fade, and the beautiful feeling drained away.
No, she thought, nooo.
The tongue tore at her nose, her lips, painful now. She whipped her head from side to side and all at once, burning white light filled the world. She sat up with a start, and a black shape darted away.
Disoriented, she looked around, not sure where she was or how she got there.
In a moment, it hit her.
She was in her own bed, morning sunshine streaming through the window and bathing hers and Lana's shared bedroom in golden summery hues. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and brushed her fingers through her sweaty hair. A low, tentative meow sounded from beneath Lana's bed, and Lola shot daggers in its general direction. "Stupid Cliff, I said don't lick me." She brought her fists down on the bed like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and sensing her displeasure, Cliff shot out from under Lana's bed and streaked into the hallway. "AND STAY OUT!" Lola screamed. She flopped back against the pillow and took a deep breath. Beauty sleep was a hot commodity around here and she did not appreciate it being interrupted by a dumb cat and his dumb obsession with licking everyone. She thought only dogs did that, but oh no, Cliff was ten times worse than any dog she had ever met.
Lola let out a puff of air and laced her hands over her chest. She went instantly back to the dream and furrowed her brow. It was rapidly dissipating and she couldn't remember much of it, but she thought she was naked and people were touching her. That seemed kind of gross on the surface, but she could still vividly feel the sensations it woke in her. She was flushed from head to toe and her heart gently pounded; her thing was hot, swollen, and kind of damp, and when she rubbed her legs together, the most amazing feeling ever rippled through her.
Turned on.
She was turned on.
Sexual arousal was still new for Lola, but it was quickly becoming one of her favorite things in the world. She couldn't recall the first time she felt the stirring in her loins, but the first time she made herself cum was three weeks ago - basically a lifetime ago. She was sitting at the table during dinner and found that clenching and unclenching her legs felt really good. She did it for almost ten minutes straight, and the pressure in her belly got stronger, hotter, bursting against her, so desperate for release that it compelled her to continue even when she felt how gross and wet her panties were. Her heart slammed, her face turned bright red, and she had to lower her head to hide the twitching, lid-fluttering look of nirvana on her face. Without warning, she felt like she had to pee but she couldn't stop, wouldn't stop. She bit her lower lip, sucked a series of ragged breaths, and started to shake. Something was happening, something wonderful and hot and dirty and -
It hit her like a freight train and she came apart right there in front of her family. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her hips bucked as if into an imaginary boy, and her toes curled. The chatter and banter stopped and everyone looked at her. "Are you okay, honey?" Mom asked.
Fate stepped in to save an awkward situation, and Lola let out a massive, ripping fart. "Just gas," she panted.
The table exploded into laughter.
Since then, Lola had done her special squeezy thing a bajillion times. In bed, in the bath tub, on the school bus, and even the other night during one of Lori's dumb, mandatory sibling meetings. As Lori complained about everyone doing their chores wrong and threatened to stop giving everyone rides, Lola sat on the edge of Leni's bed and brought herself repeatedly to orgasm.
No one was any wiser.
Well...no one except for Lana.
The other day, Lola decided to try something new. Slipping her panties off, she hiked her dress up and mounted a pillow. She rubbed herself back and forth along its fringed edge until she was almost there...then Lana walked in. "GET OUT!" Lola screamed and threw the pillow at her sister.
When the embarrassment had subsided, Lana came back in. "I see the Loud Gene is in full effect," she said with a smug smile.
"The what?" Lola asked, cocking her head and squinting one eye.
Lana opened her mouth, then closed it again. "I better have Lisa explain." She left the room and came back a few moments later with Lisa in tow. "The Loud Gene is kicking in," Lana explained to the little nerd.
"Lovely," Lisa said sarcastically.
Lola's head spun. "What is this Loud Gene thing? I'm getting sick of you two jering me around. Spill it."
Taking a deep breath, Lisa started to speak, but Lola cut her off. "And in English, please. None of that dumb technical stuiff."
"Fine," Lisa said tightly. "The Loud Gene is the name I've given to the phenomenon whereby each Loud girl - and presumably Lincoln too - undergoes a radical transformation at roughly age twelve, becoming cruder versions of themselves. I don't know why it happens or if it will happen to all of us, but so far it has occurred in all of our older siblings save for Lucy and Lincoln. It started early in Lana and apparently you as well."
Lola listened carefully. "I still don't understand what you said."
Stepping in, Lana said, "I got this." She sat next to Lola. "You know puberty, right?"
"Not personally," Lola said. "But I've heard of it."
"It's kind of like that, only...different. You get dirty, gassy, and really, really horny. Remember how I used to eat dog poop and bathe in pond scum?"
Lola shivered. Yes, she did. Lana was the grossest creature on the face of the earth for a solid six months. She slowly phased out of it; she was still nasty, but nowhere near as bad as before. "That was the Loud Gene," Lana said. "It hit me like a ton of bricks...now it's hitting you."
That was preposterous. She wasn't gross! Yes, the smell of the bathroom after Lynn bombed the bowl was kind of nice, and sure, she may have sucked up a worm or two just to try it, but she was not gross.
Three hours later, as she sat under the back porch and sniffed a random tennis shoe she found at the bus station, it hit her.
Maybe she was dirty.
Presently, she sighed deeply and glanced at the clock.
9am.
At noon, she and her fam would pack into the van and drive to Chippewa Falls for the state semi-finals. The winner would go on to compete at the state finals in Lansing against the best and most beautiful girls in the whole state. Lola was 100 percent certain that she would win, but she didn't trust that cheating little slut Lindsey Sweetwater not to try something. That girl was the sneakiest, most underhanded and conniving hussy this side of the Mississippi. If she could bribe a judge, she would.
That was only because she knew she couldn't beat Lola fair and square. Really, her resorting to cheating was a compliment.
Throwing the covers off, Lola sat up, cracked her neck, and got to her feet. The flimsy fabric of her nightgown tickled her nipples and the sunshine on her back warmed her plump butt like reverent hands. She flashed back to the dream and nibbled her lower lip.
She kind of wished it was real.
In the bathroom, she stripped naked and took a long, hot shower. Her mind began to drift and before she knew what she was doing, her fingers were sunk fast in her pussy and she was humping her hand, the water pounding on her back heightening her pleasure. Her eyes narrowed and she moaned so loud that someone pounded on the door, startling her. "Are you okay in there?" Lori asked.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Lola screeched.
"Fine," Lori said.
Stupid Lori, you'd think she'd never gone through the Loud Gene for herself.
Finishing up, Lola got out of the shower, dried off, and got dressed. Her stomach was rumbling and she smacked her lips. Since the Loud Gene kicked in, she was constantly ravenous, and sometimes craved weird things, like relish and jelly sandwiches, rotting food from the trash can, and even the occasional small, crunchy bug. In the kitchen, she grabbed a big plastic serving bowl, filled it to the top with milk and Cocoa Puffs, and carried it into the dining room, sloshing some over the side.
"Geez, Lola," Luan said, "save some breakfast for the rest of us."
"Can it, twit," Lola said.
She ate every bite, then, when Mom came down a few minutes later and started making French toast and sausage, impatiently waited for more. She smothered her French toast and sausage in syrup and devoured it with the manic frenzy of a starving woman. Across the table, Lana did the same, chewing with her mouth open, dropping bits of mushy food onto her plate, and burping and farting in between bites. Some irresistible urge overcame Lola, and cocking her butt, she farted too.
"Nice one,' Lana saId appreciatively.
Lori just rolled her eyes.
When she was stuffed, Lola went upstairs to get ready for the pageant. First, she put on her best dress, then dried and brushed her hair. She put on make-up, sprayed herself with perfume, and spent an hour detailing her face and hair to make sure it was perfect. Well, more perfect than usual.
By the time she was done, everyone was in the van waiting and Mom was calling up the stairs. "Hurry up, young lady."
Lola grabbed her gym bag containing all the outfits she would need for the day and rushed downstairs. Being the last one in, she was stuck with the lumpy seat; it poked and prodded you with every shake of the van's ancient suspension system.
Dad backed into the street, pointed them toward their destination, and hit the gas. The van rocked and creaked and the seat dug into Lola's center. Her core pinched and her eyes widened. Uh-oh. The tires dipped into a pothole and the van jumped, the lump rubbing her clit. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth with a gasp. Oooooh, mama, that felt good.
She was in the middle of getting there when Lana poked her head over the back of the seat and grinned. "Ahh, the lumpy seat. My favorite place to sit."
Of everyone in her family, Lola had always been closest to Lana despite their differences. It was a sisterly bond forged on shared experience. Ever since the Loud Gene kicked in, however, their relationship had deepened and taken on a new depth that it had previously lacked. Given Lola's newfound, ahem, interests (playing in dirty diapers and masturbating, for example), Lana was the only one who truly understood her. "There's room for one more," Lola stammered. She was so close to cumming her brains out that she could hardly speak.
Lana seemed to consider her offer for a moment, then climbed over the seat, dropped next to Lola, and started rubbing herself furiously. Lola did the same and they both went ooh ooh ahh ahh like monkeys. "Lola and Lana," Dad barked, "knock it off, you're being too loud."
Lana and Lola were both sweaty and red-faced. "O-Okay, D-Dad," they said in unison. Lola hung her head, sucked in a huge breath, and moaned in the back of her throat as her orgasm broke over her. Lana tossed her head back, opened her mouth, and expelled a long, subaudible hiss of air. When they were finished, Lola sighed and Lana squinted one eye and rubbed her legs. "Now my underwear are sticky."
"I'm not wearing any," Lola said.
They both laughed.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the civic center, a large sandstone building with a dome and a skybridge to the parking garage across the street. Dad pulled through a gate and parked on the top floor. Everyone got out, and Lola grabbed her bag from the back. All at once, an epic cramp hit her in the stomach and her face twisted in pain. She sucked a sharp intake of breath and pressed her hands to her belly. Her stomach gave nasty acidic gurgle and then the knot released. She let out a deep breath and slung her bag over her shoulder.
Maybe she shouldn't have eaten such a big breakfast.
They crossed the skybridge, which spanned over a busy highway, and went into the civic center. The pageant was being held in an auditorium on the ground floor. In the hall, Mom, Dad, and the others wished her luck. Lana, whom Lola had made her "manager" so that she could come backstage, followed her through a door to the backstage area. Girls in pretty dresses practiced their routines while harried stagehands with headphones and clipboard rushed frantically back and forth. "Well," Lana said and slapped Lola's back, "we're in the big times now, kid."
Lola's stomach cramped again and the force of Lana's slap knocked a noxious, foul tasting belch from Lola's throat. Lana sniffed the air and her nose shriveled up. She choked, waved her hand in front of her face. "Jeez Louise, whose ass did you eat?"
"I didn't even eat anything weird," Lola said, panic creeping into her voice. This was not the place to be smelly and gross. Maybe Lana could come through the door and suck up crusty toe jam from the floor, but not Lola. Green, gunky toe jam sounded simply divine, but if any of the other girls caught wind of her disgusting grossness, she would never live it down.
"Them old Loud Genes," Lana said definitely.
Curse the Loud Gene. "What should I do?!" Lola asked and desperately clutched the front of her sister's overalls. "What should I do?!"
The serene look never left Lana's face even as Lola shook her. "You just gotta hold it in."
Lola froze. "Hold it in?" She asked the question as though the concept of not farting or burping was foreign and wholly repellant.
"Yep," Lana said.
"But what if I can't?"
"Then -"
Lana's words turned into a hateful growl, and her eyes narrowed to reptilian slits. Lola followed her line of sight and understood instantly.
Lindsey Sweetwater, in a blue dress, had come out of her dressing room and was talking to a black girl whose name Lola couldn't remember. With her gloves and bow, Lindsey was the only girl in Royal County who could even begin to hold a candle to Lola. If Lola was number one (which she was), Lindsey was number two. A distant number two, but number two nevertheless.
For the longest time, Lana had a huge crush on Skippy, a dirty, grody little boy who was basically her male doppelganger. They played in the mud together, had farting contests, and played proctologist a few times. Last month, she went over to his house to ask him out on a date to Burpin' Burger. She crawled in through the doggy door as she had a thousand times before and found him in the living room.
He wasn't alone.
Lindsey Sweetwater was sitting in Skippy's lap and raping his mouth with her tongue. Lana's heart broke into a million pieces and tears flooded her eyes. "I thought we had something," she stammered.
Looking her up and down, Skippy dead ass said, "Me...with you? You're disgusting. I want a hot girl. Not a fucking pig like you."
"Oink, oink," Lindsey said with an evil smile.
Skippy snorted. "Oink, oink."
Tears fell from Lana's face. "Stop," she moaned. "I am not a pig."
Both Skippy and Lindsey picked up the chant. "Oink, oink! Oink, oink!"
Giving into her tears, Lana ran away, and she had hated Skippy and Lindsey ever since.
Unfortunately for her, she saw Lindsey every time she accompanied Lola backstage. Lola told her she didn't have to come, but she thought Lana did it on purpose in hopes of provoking a fight. I would smoke her ass like a brisket, she said once and shadow boxed the air in front of her. Lola wished for her own sake that she wouldn't subject herself to being around the girl who stole her boyfriend, but for her own sake, she hoped she beat Lindsey's face in so badly that Lindsey could never compete again.
And then there was Skippy. Skippy's dad owned a private cleaning company that was contracted by the Royal County Pageant Society to clean up after every beauty show in the county, and Skippy often worked backstage taking out the trash, fixing creaky floorboards, and doing general handyman stuff. In fact, Lola could hear his janitor cart now, one wheel wobbling and thunking on the floor. Lana tensed, hands balling into fists, and Lola rubbed a comforting circle in her back.
Seconds later, the janitor cart appeared, seeming to move on its own volition because Skippy was too small to see over it. The cart came down the hall and stopped, and Lana started toward it, face turning red.
Skippy stepped out from behind it and…
...it wasn't Skippy at all. Instead, the mysterious grease monkey was a small black boy about Lana's age with wild, frizzy hair and dark brown eyes. He wore a black zip up jumpsuit and work boots caked with mud. Grease and oil streaked his face and thick white dust covered his knees; it looked like he stopped in to pray at Tony Montana's house.
The fire in Lana's eyes went out when she saw that her foe was not really her foe, and her fist fell to her side. Though he had to have seen her and Lola standing there, he seemed not to have registered their presence. He ducked his head, slipped his fingers into his hair, and thought aloud to himself. "Alright, what now? What now? Shit...uh...did I scrub that toilet? Damn, I don't think I did. Uh...I better do that before I forget again."
A spasm of pain hit Lola's stomach and she doubled over, a goan escaping through her teeth. Lana was too busy staring at the new boy to notice. Her eyes were wide and starry and her lips made a drunken little squiggle across her face. She drank in the layer of filth coating him, drew the intoxicating aroma of his body odor into her nose, and bit her lip at the sizeable bulge at the crotch of his pants. Her pupils morphed into tiny hearts and she breathed a dreamy sigh. Lola's intestines tied into a knot and for a terrible moment, she thought she was going to puke all over her shoes. She reached out to Lana for support but Lana wrenched away from her and went up to the new boy like a little wrestling fan to Stone Cold Steve Austin.
Nice, Lana, Lola thought, real nice. Glad to know I can always count on you.
"Hi," Lana said, "I'm Lana. What's your name?"
The boy jerked in surprise and whipped his head up so fast that he almost spun completely around. "Oh, hi," he said and flashed a nervous smile, "I didn't see you there. What was the question again?"
The burning agony in the pit of Lola's stomach swelled like a balloon and her butt hole filled with liquid fire. She clenched her cheeks together and bore down on her teeth. Lana was too preoccupied with her new friend to notice the epic battle her sister was waging against her own body...and just barely winning.
"Anthony," the boy said, "Anthony Simmons."
He held his hand out and Lana took it, her thumb lightly grazing his knuckles and her breathing coming quicker, more ragged. Even in the throes of her distress, Lola could see the effect Anthony Simmons was having on her. Her face was beet red and her chest expanded and contracted as she fought for air. "Do you clean toilets for fun?" she asked.
Anthony missed a beat. "No, I'm actually filling in for Skippy. He broke his leg so -"
"Good," Lana said, "fuck him. You're cuter anyway. And so filthy."
Flushing self-consciously, Anthony nodded. "Yeah, I was downstairs working on the boiler. I'm not always like this. I bathe regularly and -"
"I like my men dirty," Lana said. She grabbed his wrist with both of her hands and forced his hand to her crotch.
Anthony yanked away and laughed uncomfortably, his cheeks crimson with embarrassment. "I, uh, I gotta go clean that, uh, that-that toilet. I'm kind of scatterbrained and if I don't do something instantly, I forget." He was backing up the whole time he spoke, the words coming in a rush. When he was a safe distance away, he ducked behind the janitor cart and hurried away.
By now, the storm had passed, and other than feeling spent and sweaty, Lola was okay again. Lana stood in there with her feet planted far apart and her hands determinedly on her hips. Her nostrils flared, lending her an animal like appearance, and as Lola watched, her pink tongue darted out and swiped across her lips. Lola walked over and stood next to her. "I dunno what it is," Lana said, "but that boy has awakened the beast within." She threw her head back and let out a wolfish howl. "I'd let him rut me from behind and pull my pigtails until I came on his cock and called him daddy."
A gasp of shock drew hers and Lola's attention to a group of girls standing nearby, their jaws against their chests and scandalized looks on their faces. "What, you dykes don't like dicks?" Lana asked. She turned back to the hallway Anthony had just disappeared down and made an obscene noise to herself. "Did you see the front of his pants? He's packing a python. I wanna touch it." She bit her bottom lip. "With the back of my throat."
Jesus. Lola had heard Lana say crude things about boys before, but nothing this graphic.
Lola's stomach gurgled and she instinctively clenched her butt again just in case. "I'mma go get him," Lana said.
"You do that," Lola said through her teeth. "Meanwhile, I think I need to use the little girls' room. Good luck."
"You too," Lana said.
Thanks, Lola thought, 'cause I'm gonna need it.
On the way, she met Lindsey Sweetwater. "Good luck," she mocked.
"Fuck you, bitch."
Lindsey flipped her off and Lola flipped her off back.
God, she hated that girl.
After a long, meandering circuit of the backstage area with stops to sniff wheeled laundry carts heaped with dirty clothes, Lana found Anthony Simmons outside a staff only restroom near the back office. His janitor cart was parked half in and half out, propping the door open, and the overpowering scent of bleach and disinfectant found her nose, making it twitch.
Since The Loud Gene had settled down, Lana hadn't been as dirty or horny, but something about Anthony sent her hormones raging like a frickin' hurricane. Warm, sticky fluid squished between her love-swollen folds with every step and her nipples made sensitive little tents against her overalls. The urge to grab him by his hair, drag him into a corner, and mate him like a cavewoman was so strong that she had to stop and bite her knuckle until it passed.
The object of her affection - short, dark, and dirty - came out of the bathroom holding a dripping toilet brush, and Lana's core tingled. If he shoved that thing inside of her, she'd cum so hard the walls would tumble down and every window in a fifty miles radius would shatter. If she was lucky, there would be bits of poo and sodden toilet paper stuck to it. God, that would feel so freakin' amazing.
Anthony jammed the toilet brush into a holder and looked up, freezing when he noticed her. "Hey," she said and batted her eyelashes, "we meet again."
He offered a wan smile. "Yeah, quite the, uh, the coincidence."
Lana walked over, leaned against the cart, and crossed her arms. "What do you do for fun?" she asked. "You look like a big football fan."
"Actually, no," Anthony said awkwardly. "I, uh, I'm not big into sports. I like to bowl, that's a lot of fun, but I don't really like watching it or anything. I like doing it."
Ohhh, she had something he could do. Something hot, wet, and tight.
HER PUSSY!
Whoop, whoop.
"You're also a mechanic, I bet," she guessed.
Anthony rocked his hand from side to side like a puppet master making his dummy dance. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I don't like math because I get distracted a lot, but I'm a beast at science and biology."
Hm, biology. Come study my biology, baby.
"So you know how to use your hands," Lana said.
"Yeah," Anthony said.
An evil grin slithered across Lana's face and she leaned in. "Have you ever used them on a girl?"
Anthony favored her with an uncomprehending stare. "Uh...no?"
"Do you want to?" she asked.
He swallowed. "I have to go. Again." He turned around and hurried off, his butt wiggling under his jumpsuit.
Lana whistled.
A little while later, she found him again, this time bent over and tying his shoe. She crept up behind him and simulated thrusting, hands hovering around his hips and her crotch almost touching his butt. She cupped and fondled her breasts without shame. A passing stagehand gave her a funny look, and she nodded. When the stagehand was gone, she smacked Anthony's ass and he jumped. "Hey," she said, "nice butt."
He turned around and started to back up, looking almost afraid. "Uh...thanks." He fell into a randomly placed chair and Lana advanced, "accidentally" falling onto his lap. She instantly felt his ultra thick member through his jumpsuit. His face turned bright red and he went completely rigid, offering no resistance. Lana straddled him and wiggled her hips, her heart sputtering when she felt him starting to get hard. "Oh, what are you doing?" he asked nervously.
She grabbed the front of his jumpsuit and slowly slid her hips back and forth, grinding his rapidly growing boner. Anthony's breath caught and he assumed a cute doe in the headlights look that made Lana wild with lust. She ran her hands up and down his chest and pressed her lips to the side of his throat, smelling the salty tang of his skin. She darfed her tongue out and tasted him; a broken uhhh fell from his lips. "I'm keeping you from getting away," she said. Her voice was husky and her ragged breath puffed hotly against his flesh. She unzipped the front of his jumpsuit and thrust her hands in, flattening them on his warm chest and nipping his earlobe. "Do I have your attention or are you still ADHD?"
Anthony swallowed thickly. "Y-You got it."
"About time," she said into his ear. She raked her fingernails down his chest and his back arched, boner poking her middle and making her shake. She peppered sloppy kisses all over the side of his face, his neck, and his ear, pausing to howl at an overhead light like a wolf.
When someone called out, they both jerked in surprise. "Tony! Hey, Tony! Someone shit up the bathroom out front! Hurry up and hit it, will you?"
Lana sighed and hung her head. Her heart slammed against her breast and her core throbbed so hard it hurt. She could barely think straight and was this close to pulling out his dick and riding it into the sunset. If she had her way, she would have kept him there, but before she could recover from the interruption, he slid out from under her and got to his feet. "I-I-I gotta g-go," he said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder. "I can't lose this job."
That meant nothing to Lana. All she cared about was getting fucked by his big, dirty cock, but he was already hurrying away, and she came back to her senses. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked and raised her hand.
"Yeah," he called, "just look me up on 29."
When he was gone, Lana heaved a dejected sigh.
But she decided something.
She was gonna bang that guy.
And soon.
For the fifteen minutes before she took the stage, Lola sat in a chair and hugged herself against radiating waves of pain that came and went. She blew the girls' room up twice but her stomach kept right on gurgling, getting worse and worse as curtain time approached. She was always a little nervous, stressed, and jittery before going on. Usually, it wasn't anything to worry about, but today she felt like she was going to have the runs out of both ends.
Five minutes before she went on, Lana's friend, Anthony, pushed his janitor cart past and bent over to pick up a candy wrapper. His jumpsuit pulled tight across his buttt and something curious and exciting poked out the front of his crotch. He caught her looking and gave an overwrought smile. "You're Lana's twin, right? You look just like her. That's crazy, I've never met twins before."
The smell of sour sweat washed over her and her mouth began to water. Now, in addition to gurgling, her stomach was fluttering like it was full of butterflies. "She's my twin," she said firmly. "I'm the original, she's the copy+paste."
Anthony laughed. "I guess."
Lola openly eyed his crotch. She pictured herself reaching into his open fly, wrapping her gloved fingers around his girth, and bringing the head to her lips, and a little shiver dropped down her spine. When she came out of it, Anthony had wandered off, leaving his cart behind. Before she could call out to him, it was her turn to go on stage. She swallowed, prayed everyone went okay, and stepped through the curtain.
The lights were hot on her flesh and burned her eyes. She could sense rather than see the audience and the roar of their applause made her head hurt. Warm, slimy sweat began to pour from her in buckets and breathing was suddenly hard. Why was it so stuffy in here? Why were the walls closing in?
She made her way to the end of the catwalk, forcing a weak smile and concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. She was almost there when another spasm hit her stomach and she doubled over in agony. A gasp ran through the crowd and Lola hissed through her teeth. Scalding hot pressure gathered in her stomach like steam in a boiler, getting bigger, hotter; her face turned red, her features clenched, something was happening and she couldn't stop it, couldn't -
Without warning, a massive, earth-shaking clap of ass thunder ripped from her cheeks in a long, grumbling fart. The pressure instantly abated and she sighed with relief.
Then she smelled it.
Lola had never smelled the result of a landfill colliding with a sewage treatment facility, but the stench she produced couldn't be too far off; it singed the insides of her nostrils and made her eyes water. It spread out from her in a noxious green cloud and wafted over the audience. People choked, gagged, and waved their hands in front of their faces. As one, they got to their feet and started to fell, falling all over one another and trampling each other underfoot. The doors burst open and people spilled out in a flood, some falling to the ground and others passing out. "MY LEG!" someone screamed.
Anthony, in a gas mask, helped women and children out, and Lana, with a big smile, stood in the front row and waved the aroma of her sister's fart into her nose rather than away, Lola's face flushed with humiliation and she hugged herself, knees pressing together. After a few minutes, she and Lana were alone in an empty auditorium, trash and overturned chairs littering the floor. Oncoming sirens wailed in the distance and the moans, screams, and agonized sounds of the wounded drifted in from the lobby. Lana threw her head back and drooled like Homer Simpson thinking about doughnuts and a few unfortunate souls staggered out of the backstage area before falling over like flies. Lola saw Lindsey Sweetwater fall to her knees, claw at her throat, and then flop face first to the floor before going limp. Lana pointed at her and said, "Ha ha."
Death, destruction, and ruination spread before Lola.
"Did you win?" Lana asked.
A field of bodies lay scattered across the parking lot of the civic center like the after effects of a giant child's tantrum. Ambulances, police cars, and fire engines were parked haphazardly here and there, lights flashing. Lindsey Sweetwater sat on the curb breathing into a paper bag, Lincoln Loud had his head between his knees, and Rusty Spokes vomited while Stella patted his back. Her face was tinged a light shade of green and her lips were twisted in disgust, as though she could still smell the noxious fumes that had driven her and the others from the building. The manager of the pageant talked to a police officer who jotted something down in a notepad, and paramedics worked over the fallen. A team of firefighters wearing gas masks emerged from the building carrying an unconscious woman on a stretcher. The manager, a fruity little man named Percy, saw her, wailed, and dashed over. "Amanda? Are you okay?"
The woman opened her eyes, dazed.
"You're still coming into work, right?"
Amanda passed out again.
"I'll take that as a yes."
"No one's coming into work," a man in a white lab coat said.
Percy put his hands on his hips. "And just who do you think you are, Mister Man?"
Lab coat whipped out a billfold and flashed his credentials. "Agent Kevin Harper, Royal County Health Department, Mass Incident Division. The auditions are canceled and the building is closed until further notice."
Crying out, Percy sank to his knees and pounded the pavement. "Why?"
Because of me.
Lola stood off to one side with Lana and Anthony. Anthony had taken off his gas mask and stared dazedly into the distance like a soldier returning from the field of battle. Lola's heart throbbed in her chest and she felt sick with nerves. This was her fault. The evacuation, the pageant being canceled, everyone lying on the ground sick and half dead - it was all because of her.
One thing her father had instilled in her was that you should always take responsibility for your actions. She still kind of struggled with that, but under different circumstances, she may very well have fessed up. These were not different circumstances, however. For one, she was utterly humiliated. She farted onstage in front of everyone. For a beauty queen, that was basically the kiss of death. Beauty queens aren't supposed to be people. Percy often said that they were selling a fantasy. Pretty girls are supposed to be just that, pretty and girly. They shouldn;t do things like complain, fart, poop, or unionize. Lola had broken that cardinal rule in the most public way possible. For another thing...she caused a freaking terrorist attack. People were being carted away in ambulances and the state police were walking the perimeter. This wasn't the same as knocking over a vase and owning up to it. This was majorly serious.
Yeah, there was no way she was going to take responsibility for this.
She couldn't exactly deny it, though. She was on the catwalk in front of God and everyone. The audience surely saw her clenched sweaty face and heard the earth-shattering rumble of her butt. Of course, she could say that it wasn't her and probably get away with it. Conventional wisdom was on her side. Sure, farts are smelly and gross, but they don't do all this.
Maybe the mass confusion and panic would magically wipe everyone's memories and they would develop amnesia.
Was she a bad person for almost kind of hoping all the witnesses died?
Okay, she didn't really want that, but she would totally be okay with them suffering short term memory loss. Anything to keep them from remembering that they were nearly killed by her flatulence.
One of the firefighters walked up to the health inspector and lifted his mask. He was an older man with a white walrus mustache, faded blue eyes, and wrinkles. A patch above his right breast read CHIEF. "My men are scouring the building but we can't find the source of the gas leak. It looks like someone was working on the boiler so I'm guessing it came from there."
Lola let out a sigh of relief.
Then Lindsey Sweetwater spoke up. "It was her!"
Uh-oh.
Throwing down her paper bag, Lindsey jumped to her feet, pulled the hem of her dress up, and walked over. The chief, the inspector, and Percy all turned to look at her as she came. She stopped, thrusted one gloved finger at Lola, and said, "She caused this! She farted and almost killed me." She whipped her head to the side and turned her nose up. "Take her away."
Everyone looked at Lola and she gulped. What should she do? What should she say? If she admitted her part, her pageant career would be over. Her friends would shun her, the venues that once booked her wouldn't return her calls, and, worst of all, she might even go to jail. She couldn't do that. She just couldn't. She was too pink and pretty for jail. The older girls would pass her around like currency. She'd be turned out in seconds. Every time she tried to hit the commissary, they'd jump her, beat her into a bloody pulp, and steal all of her stuff. She would go in the most beautiful girl in all of Michigan and she'd come out with a nose crooked from repeated breakage, lumpy knots on her head, and a broken spirit.
Panic tightened like a noose around her chest and she started to hyperventilate. They were staring expectantly at her, waiting for her rebuttal. If she didn't say something, anything, they would assume that what Lindsey was saying was true. They'd put her in handcuffs and drag her away kicking and screaming. She opened her mouth to speak but the only thing to come out was a rusty wheeze.
Before she could speak, Anthony stepped forward. "It wasn't her," he said. He lowered his head in a show of contrition and drew a deep sigh. "It was me. I was working in the boiler room earlier and I must have nicked a gas line or something."
Lola's jaw dropped. Lana opened her mouth like she was going to contradict him, but Lola rammed her elbow so hard into her twin's side that she doubled over, her cap falling from her head. None of the adults noticed, however, for they were too focused on Anthony. "Did you notice anything?" the fire chief asked.
"No," Anthony said. "That's why I probably nicked it. I didn't smell anything or -"
"Did you report it to your supervisor?" the health inspector asked.
Antjhony blinked. "No, I just said there...there was nothing to repor -"
"He didn't say anything to me," Percy said in a scandalized tone.
The health inspector narrowed his eyes. "Your callous disregard for safety could have killed someone. Look around you, kid. This is all your fault. That little girl over there convulsing in agony, that man puking down his shirt, the many, many children in the ICU right now fighting for their lives -"
Lola broke down crying.
"That little blonde girl's mental and emotional scars. You're responsible for this." He jabbed his finger against Anthony's chest, and a dark shadow flickered across Anthony's face. He looked like he wanted to break the guy's hand, but instead he manned up and took his lumps. "You're lucky this was an accident, otherwise you'd go to jail."
Eyes pointed at the ground, looking thoroughly chastised, Anthony nodded his head. "I understand," he said. "And I'm really sorry."
"It wasn't him," Lindsey said, "it was Lola. She farted." She fisted her hands and stomped her foot on the ground. "Her, her, her."
Percy waved a paramedic over. "She's delirious," he said.
The paramedic took Lindsey's hand and led her away. She complained the whole way...until she passed a cute cop in tight pants. "Oooh, nice butt."
When she was gone, Percy turned to Anthony, and Anthony braced himself for what was to come. "This never would have happened with Skippy. You're not even a quarter of the handyman he is, sweetie."
As if on cue, a short fat man in a red cap and a pair of overalls over a red long sleeve shirt walked up. A furry mustache covered his upper lip and white gloves hid his hands. "It'sa me," he told Percy in a thick Italian accent.
"Mario," Percy said, "your helper caused a gas leak that ruined my pageant and nearly killed an auditorium full of people."
The man looked at Anthony. Gesturing with his hands, he said, "Why-a you do dis to me? I build my company and you-a try to destroy it. You'rea fired."
Anthony slumped his shoulders in dejection.
"And you can kiss-a that 500 dollar bonus check a-goodbye."
"Alright," Anthony said.
Lana's face twisted in sympathy and she patted Anthony's shoulder. Lola's face burned with shame and she hung her head. Because of her, a bunch of people got hurt today...plus she cost an innocent boy his job.
God, this was a nightmare. She felt like crying.
The right thing to do would be to speak up and take responsibility so that Anthony could keep his job and his bonus check, but Lola was too weak and afraid, so, hating herself, she stayed silent. Mario went on dressing Anthony down in a mix of broken English and rapidfire Italian. The fire chief crossed his arms, the health inspector put his hands on his hips, and Percy shook his head in disgust. All of them loomed over poor Anthony, their hate and disdain palpable. Lola's stomach turned for a different reason than before and she hugged herself. Her tears had dried on her cheeks and now her face felt crusty and cool. She sniffed deeply and warm, salty snot dipped down the back of her throat, filling her mouth. She rolled it over her tongue and savored it before swallowing. From what she read online, a boy's cum tasted kind of like snot only better. Her eyes drifted to Anthony and her core pinched. She was so wracked with nerves that she didn't realize this earlier, but he was actually really cute. Not only that, he had a little bulge going on downstairs. If she unzipped his pants and took his dick out, it would be big, thick, and yummy~
Now the guilt and shame was gone and she was suddenly very, very horny,
It wasn't just his rugged good looks and his glorious layers of filth, it was him stepping up for her the way he did. That was sweet, brave, and totally selfless. That was hot. Very hot. There's nothing sexier than a guy who takes care of you and protects you.
One day, Lola decided, she was going to thank him.
By sucking his dick and swallowing his load.
Or letting him put it all over her face.
Whichever one he wanted.
"You are a disappointment to me," Mario said. "I don't want to-a see you any-a more." The big man turned his back to Anthony and walked away. Percy, the chief, and the health inspector all followed, each one making a snide remark about how terrible of a human being Anthony was. Lola was pretty sure that she heard Percy say that he was "literally worse than Hitler." Lola didn't know much about Hitler but she was pretty sure that he was waaaay worse than Anthony.
Or, uh, actually, her.
She was worse than Hitler.
Sigh.
Now she felt like crap again.
When the grown ups were gone, Lola drew a deep, watery sigh and turned to Anthony. Lana was hugging him from behind and rubbing the side of her face affectionately along his shoulder like a cat, and Lola felt a momentary flash of jealousy, then she remembered that she was the better twin and stopped. She had absolutely nothing to worry about. If it came down to a competition, she would win over Lana hands down.
Or, you know, they could just share.
Lola wasn't into incest but the idea of tag teaming a boy with her twin inexplicably got her motor racing.
"It's okay," Lana said soothingly and kissed his neck. "Mama's here."
Lola took a deep breath and forced herself to swallow her pride. "Thank you," she said. "I'm sorry you...lost your job?"
"It's really no big deal," he said. "I was just doing it to get out of the house on the weekends. Plus Mario's a real guinea. I was probably going to wind up quitting soon anyway." He shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked at the ground. "I figured it'd be better if I took the heat. I'd just lose a job, you'd lose your whole career. I've been thinking of opening my own contracting business so I'm good."
Lana circled her arms around his waist and lightly humped his butt. "You're a good guy," she said and bit his earlobe. He blushed and shivered.
Lola shot her a nasty look and chewed her bottom lip. She had already decided that she was going to make a move on him and Lana was just in the way. Screw it, if Lana didn't like what she was about to do, she could just deal with it.
Grabbing Anthony's jumpsuit in both hands, Lola pulled herself to his lips and jammed her tongue into his mouth. She had never kissed a boy before but she had heard that you're supposed to massage the tongue of the person you're kissing with your tongue, so she clumsily swirled her tongue around his, flopping more than massaging. Anthony tensed and didn't do anything, either shocked by her forthrightness or not wanting to do anything because Lana was literally right there.
Instead of freaking out on Lola for trying to steal her man or something equally stupid like that, Lana trailed kisses down his neck and ran her hands over his bulge. Lola took his face in her hands and deepened the kiss, tilting her head this way and that and losing herself to the sweet taste of his breath. Fire welled in her loins and she suddenly felt very fluttery and very damp.
Finally, Lana pulled him away from Lola's lips. "Okay, you've thanked him," Lana said. She turned him around and ran her fingers through his hair. He smiled at her and lowered his head..
"You're welcome," he said, "both of you." He put his hands on Lana's hips and she giggled. She looked at Lola and waggled her eyebrows. Lola crossed her arms over his chest, cocked her hips, and made a humph sound in the back of her throat. So apparently they weren't going to share. Fine then, if that's how she wanted to play it.
Part of Lola wanted to shove Lana away and take her place in Anthony's arms, but she stopped because in all fairness, Lana liked him first. She went after him long before Lola even noticed that he was attractive. That didn't really mean too much in the grand scheme of things, Lola figured, but it was enough to stay her hand for now. One of Lola's nain character traits was the ability to be cold, cunning, and calculated. She was the type of girl who could hang back and manipulate people over a period of time. Lana was more impulsive and didn't think things through. Lola, on the other hand, did, and she realized that some situations can't be rushed into all willy nilly. Sometimes you have to put on your thinking cap and make a complex play instead of riding in guns blazing.
Life, her grandfather, affectionately known to all who loved him as Pop Pop, always said: Life is like a game of chess. Lana was too dumb and ignorant to realize that. She didn't comprehend the concept of winning the battle but losing the war. Lola, however, did.
So for right now, she would let Lana have him and think she had won. Watching they gazing into each other's eyes and giving one another goofy little smiles cut Lola deeply, but she didn't want Lana to know that, so she went on watching.
"You wanna hang out later?" Lana asked. "I know a dumpster where you can get free tacos."
Anthony hesitated. "I don't -"
His phone rang.
Pulling away from her, he whipped it out of his pocket and scanned the screen. "Shit, it's my mom." He pressed the phone to his ear and walked a short distance away. "Hey, Mom."
Lana and Lola stood next to each other. "He's great," Lana said dreamily.
"Yeah, he's a nice guy," Lola said. She swallowed bitterly and forced herself to add, "you look cute together."
"We're gonna look even cuter when I have my thighs wrapped around his head and my clothes on his bedroom floor."
Lola smiled tightly. "Indeed."
Antthony shoved the phone back into his pocket and came over. "Look, I gotta go. My mom heard about the...incident...on the radio, so now I'm grounded for a week."
"When can I see you again?" Lana asked.
"I don't know," he said, "probably a week from today."
Lana slumped her shoulders, disappointed, and Lola secretly celebrated. Good, she would have a week to plot her next move. Maybe…
Hmmm. No. She would keep that to herself for now. Suffice it to say, she had plans and she was certain that she could get to him before Lana could.
Ha ha ha, take that, Lana.
"Alright," Lana said, "bye."
"Bye," he said. He gave her a loving hug and his hand accidentally brushed her butt.
He turned to Lola. "Bye."
She smiled at him. "Thanks again. I still need to properly repay you."
Lana glared at her. "No you don't."
"Just...do me a favor, okay?" he asked.
"What?" Lola asked.
He grinned. "Take some GasEx next time."
Lola blushed and Lana laughed.
Winking at both of them, Anthony turned and walked away. The twins watched him go, and when he was gone, Lana turned to Lola. "You like him too, don't you?"
"As a friend," Lola said innocently.
"As more than a friend," Lana charged.
Lola grinned. "Nope."
She, too, walked away.
Lana stared after her, a thoughtful expression on her face. The idea of sharing cross her mind but she didn't know if she wanted to do that.
In time, she would see.
For now, she was really horny, and if she didn't do something about it, she was going to blow.
Hurrying, she went to masturbate while thinking of Anthony.
THE END.