Victoria Campbell, Vicky for short, was a proud girl. She was strong, capable, and never asked anyone for help, even if she needed it. People, she had discovered, look down on you when you put yourself at a disadvantage. They'll help you to feel better about themselves and brag to all their uppity asshole friends about what a good person they are. If they didn't do that, they would hold it over your head. People, Vicky knew, were selfish and greedy, and some of them will actively look for people to help, just so they can lord it over them. Vicky refused to lower herself like that. Fuck you, fuck your help, leave me alone. I didn't ask for shit from you, you got nothing on me, faggot, die.
Apart from her older cousin Tabby and her grandmother, who had recently gone into a nursing home, Vicky was alone in the world, and that was fine with her. She could handle anything life threw at her and didn't need people to support her. She looked at people who needed counseling, hugs, and powder on their butts with burning contempt. The only people she hated more than weak little pussies were smart people.
God, Vicky hated smart people.
Every smart person Vicky had ever known had been a raging dickhole who thought they were better than everyone else and had all the answers to everything. They thought they could do whatever they wanted and treat everyone around them like shit. Intelligent people often have their heads shoved so far up their asses that they can give themselves a haircut with their teeth, and refuse to listen to anyone else's thoughts or opinions. I know everything, so why should I listen to you? You're just a retard. They're smug, arrogant, and walked around like they were God. Look at me, I cured cancer. Smart people were the most obnoxious people on the face of the earth and every time she saw one of them, Vicky wanted to punch their goddamn teeth down their throat.
The queen of the nerds in Royal Woods was Lisa Loud, the little know-it-all who kept skipping grades and rubbing her IQ in everyone's faces. Smart people always have to brag on themselves and Lisa's way of bragging was by using big words and talking like a computer. She once overheard Lisa ask a kid if they had a pencil she could "utilize." Fucking utilize. Why not say "use" like a normal person? No one says that kind of thing unless they're trying to rub their vocabulary in everyone's faces. Lisa did that shit on purpose and Vicky was tired of it. Every time she looked at Lisa, a fire ignited in her chest and anger so great that it made her eye twitch and gripped her heart in a steely fist.
When she looked at Lisa, she thought of her mother.
Vicky hated her mother.
Vicky's parents were both holier-than-thou intelligentsia. Her mother, Martha, was a respected neurologist and her father, Sean, specialized in radiology. Vicky had only good memories of Dad - him reading her bedtime stories, giving her piggyback rides, and them eating ice cream together - but she knew that if he were alive today, she would feel the same way about him that she did Mom. While she could look back and smile at her recollections of her father, she could not do the same with her mother. Mom was a geektard of the highest order and wanted Vicky to be just like her. She started when Vicky was still in the womb: She'd play classical music for hours on end and read from convoluted science books in hopes of giving birth to a loser. When Vicky was small, Mom would force her to do flashcards, do math problems, and study complicated topics that no four-year-old should ever have to study. Vicky was bright, clever, but it wasn't enough for Mom. Mom wanted a child prodigy and she was going to get one whether Vicky liked it or not. Looking back, most kids can remember a favorite toy from when they were small, something that they loved and played with so much that it burned itself on their subconscious. She couldn't. She could only remember stupid books.
As far as she knew, Dad went along with this torment and didn't make any attempt to save Vicky from the clutches of her mother's megalomania. She did not recall him pushing her, but he stood by and didn't do anything. Though...come to think of it, she did remember him giving her a teddy bear that she loved and snuggled, but that may have been a dream or something. Whatever Dad did or didn't do, Mom tried to shape and mold her into a miniature Martha because Mom, in her arrogance, thought she was so great that she deserved a clone.
She never got that clone, though. No matter how hard Vicky tried to please her, she was never happy. Vicky could never be good enough, smart enough, no one could ever be as smart as Martha Campbell. By the time she was six, Vicky's head was swollen with high school level science and math and she dreamed of geometry. She could do complex equations, play three instruments, and name every country on earth. Still, Mom wasn't happy, still Vicky had to spend four hours every afternoon with a tutor. Still, little Vicky had to push herself to the breaking point to earn her mother's love and praise.
Then it happened.
Vicky and her father were driving home from the ice cream parlor in a rainstorm. A teenager who hadn't been driving for two months lost control of his mom's car and slammed into them. Vicky hit her head on the window so hard that it shattered and Dad flew through the windshield like a superhero on his way to save the day. Vicky didn't remember much about the accident but she clearly recalled the sick, nauseous pain in her cranium; it was like her brain was pulsing and pushing against her skull. She thought she may have puked but wasn't sure. They were rushed to the hospital where Dad fell into a coma. Vicky underwent surgery to reduce the swelling in her brain. The surgery was a success and she recovered.
But things had changed. Thinking too deeply caused blinding headaches and most of the things she had learned over the years were gone. She couldn't remember how to play her violin, could hardly add and subtract, and couldn't speak as intelligently as she had before. In essence, she became an average six-year-old (if her brain hadn't been cushioned with so much excess knowledge, she probably would have been rendered retarded).
And how Mom hated it. All of her hard work was down the drain and she was cursed with a disgustingly normal daughter. How could she ever cope with Vicky not being a self-superior piece of shit? How humiliating that her own daughter wasn't smug and insufferable.
She had to fix this.
Vicky never got the full story, but apparently, her mother became a mad scientist whose one goal in life was finding a surgical answer to her daughter's condition (normalkiditis). She conducted secret experiments on human test subjects in search of a way to reverse Vicky's normalcy. Her victims were all homeless people, hookers, and runaways, people no one would miss. Most of them survived without lasting effects, but a few were turned into vegetables, and one even died. When they arrested her, she went on some long, rambling rant about how she would remedy Vicky's "retardation." Nothing is impossible with knowledge, Mom said, I lost my husband, but I'm not going to lose my daughter.
They locked her crazy ass up in an asylum and sent Vicky to live with her grandmother. Vicky hated her mother and had mixed feelings about her father, but she loved her MeeMaw. She was the best person in Vicky's life and Vicky thought it was really gay that she got old and senile. Shit happens, though.
Around the time that she went to live with her grandmother, Vicky was crossing the street and got mowed down by a car. She flew ten feet through the air and landed hard on the pavement. She jumped up, brushed herself off, and shook her fist at the driver for ripping her new jeans. It was only later on that it occurred to her she probably should have been killed. Save for a scratch on the cheek, she was completely fine, even the dull throbbing in her ankle quickly subsided. Why didn't she die? She should have at least taken some major damage...but nothing.
Over time, Vicky came to understand that she wasn't...well...normal. Mom must have done something to her without her knowledge because she had the strength, stamina, and endurance of a freak of nature. She could run without getting winded, take a brick to the face and barely feel it, get punched in the nose repeatedly, and not bleed. As she grew, her pain tolerance grew and grew until she was numb to most injuries. You'd have to cut her arm off before she'd feel any discomfort, and even then she wasn't sure she'd even break a sweat. She wasn't about to find out, though. She was extra resilient..but not indestructible.
The only real pain she felt was in her head. Thinking too deeply, even about something she liked (like bullying Lisa Loud) made her brain feel like it was on fire. Three days a week, she developed blinding headaches that made her feel fevered and sick to her stomach. Light and sound made them exponentially worse, so when she felt one coming on, she would either have to get to a cool, dark space or prepare to be in stomach-turning agony for the next six hours. She had discovered that ducking her head under the shower and alternating between cold and hot water helped, but only while her head was under the spray. The moment she took it back out again, the pain would flare-up. No medication worked, not even the heavy-duty painkillers she once bought from a trench-coat-wearing dude in an alley. Those stupid pills might as well have been sugar cubes for all the good they did her.
Sometimes she would get so angry at something that she would trigger one of her headaches. More often than not, that something was Lisa Loud. Vicky despised Lisa. Lisa Loud reflected everything her mom wanted Vicky to be: A pompous know-it-all who lorded their intelligence over the rest of the world and was too good to listen to other opinions and ideas. A fact that pissed Vicky off so much that she literally shook. She also had a smart mouth. The first day Vicky knew her, Lisa humiliated her in front of the entire class by suggesting she "would be more comfortable taking remedial classes." All because she misspelled her last name with a K instead of a C. She got mixed up sometimes! It happens to everyone! While she could take a bullet and hardly notice, she was still human and she still had feelings. Did that matter to a smart person like Lisa? No. If you didn't know or like all the same things they knew or liked, you were subhuman garbage worthy of mockery.
Smart people often get bullied and cry about it, but then they turn around and bully others. When you get enough of them together, they inevitably become toxic pricks bent on policing the thoughts and morals of their community. Vicky was maybe a little dumb, but even she knew that the baddest bad men of the world - the Nazis, the communists, etc - weren't simple, homespun people, they were middle and upper-class intelligentsia. The Nazi leadership had massive IQs. They weren't tards, they were smart. Smart people getting together is how misery and oppression start. Fuck them, fucking cocksucking pieces of shit guzzling scum.
From that day forward, Vicky took every chance she could to make the little runt feel bad about herself. Vicky rarely ever laid her hands on Lisa (aside from shoving her into a locker a few times) because she had the feeling that if she did, she would lose control and wind up killing the bitch.
Then there was the way she looked at Anthony. Lisa tried to act all high and mighty but there was something raw and perverted in her eyes when she looked at him, and that pissed Vicky off even more. Fake ass, frontin' ass ho. God, Vicky just wanted to grab her by her hair and wail on her face until she stopped being a fag.
Vicky managed to control herself, though, because she was a proud girl, the kind of girl who would never lower or debase herself, who would never be meek or submissive.
The kind of girl who would never kneel.
Yet here she was, kneeling on the floor of the bathroom and licking globs of Anthony's rich, tasty cum from the toilet seat. It was musky, coppery, and full of salt, and the more she ate it, the hotter the spot between her legs burned. Her heart slammed painfully, her eyes were wide, pupils dilated; her hands shook, her breathing was heavy, and her head swam with pleasant intoxication. Heat spread through her veins and she could almost feel something flooding her system, something infiltrating her blood and changing her. She didn't care, though, the cum was so good that she couldn't have stopped even if she wanted to. When it was all gone, she licked the seat clean, then moved onto the floor to collect any errant drops that may have fallen from his dick. She found one and lunged at it like a cat attacking a mouse; she slurped it into her mouth, threw her head back, and swished it over her tongue, savoring it.
She searched for more, and when she didn't find it, she grunted like an ape. She looked around, frenzied, and grunted some more. She had to get another dose of this heavenly -
Her stomach gurgled very loudly like a lion roar shaking a cavern. Flushed with embarrassment and discomfort. Her pain tolerance was high but for some reason she could feel pain fairly sharply, almost like an outside agent had entered her body and was affecting her chemical make up. Another spasm hit and she hugged herself against the pain, doubling slightly over and baring her teeth. Her guts knotted, burned, and spasmed as they had just been hit with a blast of buckshot; sweat sprang to her brow, and shivers of excruciating pain raced through her body. She toppled to the floor, curled up in a little ball, and held herself for what seemed like an eternity. When it finally passed, she felt cold, sweaty, and shaky. She used the toilet to stand, rested against the closed door, and took a series of deep breaths.
More.
She needed more.
She opened the door and went out just as two boys walked in. They saw her, skidded to a halt, and looked hopelessly confused. And a little scared. Vicky's strength and temper were the stuff of legends and she was feared by everyone. One checked the placard on the open door to make sure he was in the right place, then looked at Vicky. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"What are you doing here?" Vicky asked. "This is the girl's room."
"No, it's the boys' room," the other said.
Vicky opened her mouth but closed it again. Wait, this was the boy's room.
Oh, who fucking cared?
Storming out, she shoulder-checked one of them and whipped out into the hall. Her pussy pulsed like a fist opening and closing and her brain felt strangely fuzzy. The taste of Anthony's cum was heavy in her mouth and she licked her sticky lips, moaning at the rich flavor.
She had to have more.
And she would.
On their way back to class, Anthony and Lola decided to take a detour and walk around for a bit. They had just shared an incredibly passionate and personal moment and parting so soon after struck both of them as sacrilegious. Anthony slipped his arm around Lola's shoulders and Lola rested her head on his chest. She fit perfectly into his arms and felt warm and safe there, as though nothing could hurt or bother her. She was not the fragile little flower she seemed, she was strong and determined; She thought, foolishly, that the greatest feeling on earth was standing on her own two feet. She was wrong. The greatest feeling was being warm and tingly in Anthony's arms, her body awash in the beautiful afterglow of sex. She wasn't sure her feet were even touching the ground, and everything seemed better, brighter. She thought back to that old movie The Wizard of Oz that begins in black and white, then goes to color when Dorothy arrives in Oz. That's how Lola felt. Her life up until that magical moment of penetration had been in black and white and was now, for the first time, in full Technicolor.
Anthony felt pretty much the same, though the back of his neck burned with a light frosting of shame. Lola and Lana had made an uneasy decision to share him, but he still felt like he was a cheating bastard. The feeling of Lola's warm body pressed lightly to his, however, assuage his guilt and made him feel a little better.
They rounded a corner and came face to face with the Gruesome Twosome, Lindsey Sweetwater, and Skippy. The former wore a purple dress, a purple bow in her reddish hair, and purple gloves. Her face was heavily made up and her expression one was one strained annoyance, as though her companion were getting on her nerves and she was trying very hard to keep from snapping at him. The former was clad in a pair of overalls over a gray thermal long john shirt and a mossy oak baseball cap. His blonde hair was shaggy and full of grease and his face was smudged with dirt that never seemed to scrub off no matter what he did. He was in the middle of talking Lindsey's ear off in that hillbilly drawl of his but the moment he saw Anthony, the words died on his lips and his eyes narrowed to hateful slits. Lindsey brightened noticeably and her cruel lips carved up in a cold, wicked smile. "Oh, hi, Anthony." She turned to Lola and her features darkened. "Hi."
Anthony felt Lola stiffen and he rubbed a comforting and encouraging circle between her shoulder blades. She and Lindsey were mortal enemies like cats and dogs, Democrats and Republicans, East Coast and West Coast, and they always turned even the most innocent and innocuous meeting into a tense standoff. Things rarely escalated to open warfare, but the icy barbs they threw at one another were enough to sting.
Anthony was a humble, simple kind of man and he didn't understand that kind of thing. If you have something to say, Anthony believed, say it, why dress it up and play head games about it? Women were really bad about doing that sort of thing and that always puzzled Anthony. Why were they so subtle and backhanded? If you really, really don't like someone, you don't even have to confront them, just ignore their existence. That's what he did with people he didn't like and it worked wonders for him. His philosophy was to not give people he hated any mental or emotional energy. Only losers sit there and think about how much they hate their rivals. Successful and emotionally healthy people moved on with their lives and didn't pay any attention to people that didn't enrich their lives. Anthony wanted to expend time and energy on people who deserved it, people like Lola and Lana.
One person who didn't deserve his time and energy was Skippy. Anthony had known Skippy for a while and always got bad vibes from him. He would give Anthony dirty looks for no reason and made snide comments to him about everything. He would contradict Anthony and insult everything Anthony liked. Anthony got the feeling that Skippy didn't like him and he honestly had no idea why. He had barely even spoken to the guy and had done absolutely nothing to him. He guessed that he just had one of those faces. He'd be a liar if he said he hadn't met people that he instantly disliked. They didn't transgress against him or anything like that, there was just something about them that rubbed him the wrong way. That was part of life and interpersonal relationships, he guessed. He wasn't offended that Skippy didn't like him - honestly, he didn't give one single care what Skippy or almost anyone else thought of him - but he was kind of offended that Skippy was a dick to him. When he came across those people he didn't like, as few and far between as they were, Anthony didn't give himself a blank check to be as big an asshole to them as he could. He treated them with the same basic respect that he treated everyone with, that Skippy couldn't - wouldn't - do the same pissed Anthony right off.
"Hello, Lindsey," Lola said, lips puckering in disgust. "I see you're still using Skippy. I thought you'd have grown bored of him and moved on." She put special, nasty emphasis on the word using.
"Skippy and I are closer than ever," Lindsey said. Skippy, emboldened, took her hand in his, and a flicker of disgust crossed Lindsey's face. She forced a bitter smile and held his hand up. "See?"
Lola and Anthony looked at each other. Anthony couldn't decide if Skippy was a simp for Lindsey, or if he was using her just as much as she was using him. Their "relationship" (if that's what you want to call it) gave him both vibes. He followed her around and carried her books for her like a good little manservant, but sometimes he ignored her to openly leer at other girls. Especially Lana. Anthony was hazy on details, but she and Skippy used to date. She told him that Skippy stomped on her heart with spiked cleats and that made Anthony kind of hate him. Even though he broke her heart, Skippy seemed to want to get back with Lana and hated Anthony because she was into him. That wasn't the full reason since Skippy's hatred predated Anthony meeting Lana, but Anthony didn't know.
"We're doing great," Skippy said. Letting go of Lindsey's hand, he reached into his back pocket, whipped out his wallet, and removed a stack of hundred dollar bills. He fanned them out and waved them back and forth as if to stir the air and cool everyone off. "I just got an epic bonus at work. They say I'm the best cleaner they've ever had."
Anthony and Skippy worked for the same contractor, each cleaning his own buildings and rarely crossing paths. After Anthony took the fall for Lola blowing out that pageant, Anthony lost his job and from what he'd heard on the grapevine, Skippy had taken over his shifts. He was obviously making a killing and Anthony couldn't help feeling a little twinge of jealousy. "That's awesome," Anthony said, hoping Skippy didn't see that he was getting to him.
"It took a lot of work getting your old buildings into shape but you know me, I'm a hard worker." He glanced at Lola then back to Anthony. "I thought you were with Lana. Why are you with her?"
Anthony bristled. "That's really none of your business." He realized that Lindsey was looking at his fat bulge which was quite visible and twirling a strand of her hair around her index finger. She bit her bottom lip and flicked her eyes to his crotch, which both excited him and made him super uncomfortable. An image of him holding Lindsey down and fucking the dog shit out of her raced through his mind and he pushed it rudely away. He already had two girls, he didn't need anymore.
Then again, he couldn't deny how fucking sexy Lindsey was. What did she wear underneath that purple dress of hers? He pictured a frilly purple bra, lacy purple panties, and purple fishnet stockings, and his dick turned over in its sleep, coming dangerously close to waking up and rising up like Godzilla from the depths. He had just spent a massive load with Lola, but suddenly his balls felt full and hot again, as though he hadn't just had sex. His turn around time was quick but not this quick.
As if on cue, a strange feeling came over him and his muscles reflexively tensed. He was this close to pouncing Lindsey and tearing her apart right there in front of everyone that his spine tingled.
"...like maybe you were using her to get with Lola," Skippy was saying,
Anthony hadn't even realized he was talking.
"That's not true," Lola snapped. "He isn't a scumbag like you."
Skippy narrowed his eyes and looked to Lindsey for help, but she was too busy eye-fucking Anthony's groin to notice or care. Skippy's face flushed with anger and his fists shook. He looked very upset at the fact that his girlfriend was disrespecting him by openly slobbering over another man in his presence. Anthony's face turned red and his heartbeat picked up. He shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, crossed his arms defensively over his chest, and cleared his throat. "My eyes are up here," he said.
"I know," Lindsey said.
Huh.
Okay then.
"I won't stand for you insulting Anthony," Lola said to Skippy. She looked at Lindsey and frowned. "Or for you undressing him with your eyes."
Lindsey rolled her eyes and looked at Lola. "He's not even your boyfriend. He's your sister's. You're just a side piece."
"A dirty little secret," Skippy put in with a malicious grin.
"A homewrecking thot."
"A frilly, snooty, holier than thou bitch who thinks she's so great because she's in pageants." Skippy fumed. "You pageant bimbos are all talentless sluts." He realized what he had just said and glanced at Lindsey. "No offense."
"None taken," Lindsey said through her teeth. "You're right about some beauty queens not having any talent. Isn't he, Lola?"
Anthony saw Lola's hand clench into a fist and her lips peel back from her teeth. Even though he had just known her in the most intimate way a boy can know a girl, he still didn't know her, her quirks, her flaws, the signs that could tell him what her mood was. Even so, there are some things that are universal and unmistakable. Did Lola's nostrils flare when she was angry? Did her face flush in one certain area? He didn't know but there was no way he could miss the fact that Lola was furious and was about to punch Skippy's lights out.
As much as Skippy might deserve having his ass handed to him on a silver platter, Anthony didn't want himself or Lola involved in some petty drama. He closed his hand over hers and brushed his thumb across her knuckles. She looked at him and he gave her a warm smile. "C'mon, let's leave these two lovebirds alone."
Just then, the bell rang and the hall flooded with kids. Lola squeezed Anthony's hand and together, they brushed part Lindsey and Skippy on their way to their next class. Lindsey and Skippy both turned around to watch them go, Lindsey folding her arms and Skippy sneering with hatred. "She thinks she's all that, but I'll show her."
"How?" Skippy asked.
One corner of her mouth turned up. "You'll see...or maybe you won't. I might let you watch." She spun around and marched off. "Come on. I don't want to be late this time."
Sighing, Skippy followed.
All that morning, Vicky squirmed in her seat, pressed her hands to her scalding middle, and squeezed her thighs together. Her skin burned, her eyes rolled, and her mouth watered at all of the disgustingly sexual thoughts that flickered through her mind. Like any normal teenage girl, Vicky got horny from time to time, but nothing like this. It was like a deep and primal switch had been thrown deep within her and she was turning into an animal. In math class, she caught a whiff of Anthony's scent and jumped to her feet, Slouched over, knuckles almost dragging like a gorilla, she loped to the door and pressed her face to the window just as Anthony passed in the hall, a bathroom pass clutched in one hand. Vicky let out a semian "Ooh ooh Ahhh Ahh", and the teacher yelled at her to take her seat. Vicky obeyed, but she was even hornier. At one point, her stomach growled, only it wasn't her stomach at all, it was her womb. Her womb was hungry.
For cock.
Anthony's cock.
When the lunch bell rang, Vicky leapt to her feet, shoved everyone out of the way, and went into the hall. The corridor was flooded with kids packed shoulder to shoulder, and she couldn't see Anthony anywhere. Her womb rumbled so loudly that people passing by looked at her funny. A couple girls snickered and Vicky sneered. They probably thought it was her stomach and that she was a pig. Oh well, screw them.
Fighting her way through the hall, she went to her locker and fumbled with the lock; her hands were shaking so badly that she kept screwing up the combination. She let out a roar of frustration and punched the locker, denting it. She finally got it open, slammed her book in, and went toward the cafeteria. She was almost there when an invisible fist of agony crashed into her stomach. She doubled over, wrapped her arms around herself, and issued a long, pained hiss through her teeth. Her guts knotted and twisted and tears filled her eyes. The pain relented a little, and she dashed off to the bathroom, knocking kids out of her way like a freight train. She reached the girls room, slammed through the door, and rushed to one of the stalls. She yanked her pants down, dropped onto the toilet, and clenched.
Nothing happened.
The pain in her stomach grew and grew, threatening to punch through like an alien chestburster. She clenched her teeth and strained, trying to force something out. Still, nothing came. She didn't think she had to go at all; there would be no relief, no respite. Sweat poured down her pallid face and ragged breaths exploded from her chest. Another spasm wracked her and she stomped her feet against the floor in a frustrated display of impotent agony.
She strained again.
Finally, a long fart ripped from her behind, so big and meaty that it made her jiggly ass cheeks clap together. The tension in her stomach instantly released and sweet relief washed over her. She threw her head back and let out a deep sigh. The stench of the gas found her nostrils and her nose crinkled. She waved her hand in front of her face and gagged. Wow, that was bad. Smelled like dirty diapers soaked in spoiled milk and rotting meat. She got up, wiped her just just to be sure (nothing there) and pulled her pants back up. She left the stall and walked out of the bathroom without bothering to wash her hands. Some girl she hadn't seen called out that she was disgusting, and Vicky spun around to flip her off. "Fuck you, bitch," she said.
Vicky's face flushed with anger and her nostrils flared, before lashing out, punching the wall. The hallway stood almost empty save for a hall monitor and a few teachers walking back and forth from the teacher's lounge. Vicky ignored them and went to the cafeteria. Her stomach growled - this time it really was her stomach - and the smell of food made her mouth water. She got in line and waited, looking around for Anthony. She caught a whiff of his scent and turned, spotting him at a table with Lisa, Lana, and Lola. Vicky's brow lowered and her nails dug into the padded heel of her palm, leaving crescent shaped wounds behind. The line moved, and she grabbed a tray and a little carton of chocolate milk. She allowed an assembly line of gruff lunch ladies to haphazardly ladle food onto her tray and paid at the register. She wanted an ice cream sandwich but she didn't have enough money in her school account; Tabby the Tard forgot to put more money on it and now she was without a dessert. Thanks a fucking lot, Tabby.
Seething with anger, she stalked into the cafeteria and marched right over to Anthony's table. She didn't know what she was going to do. Maul him? Fuck him? Rob him? Doesn't matter. Her pussy was spitting and popping like a pan of grease on a hot stove and she was both mad and upset because she didn't get her ice cream. It wasn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things and would have made her mad under other circumstances, but right now she felt like screaming, crying, kicking her feet, and farting through both ends downstairs. Something strange was happening to her and had been all day. She knew this, was aware of it, but only right now was it really becoming clear to her. Something wasn't right and she didn't know what it was. She was hot and cold, hungry and horny; up and down-
Fuck this.
Vicky dropped into the seat across from Anthony and slammed her tray against the table, bringing about a sharp clang. Anthony and Lisa both stared, except Lola and Lana, who clung to Anthony's sides giving him goo goo eyes, her entrance a nonexistent blip on their radar.
"Victoria," Lisa said, "To what do we owe the dis-"
"Shut the fuck up!" Vicky snapped. She turned to Anthony. The obscene urge to pick on him came over her and she tried to resist. It's absolutely not true that girls pick on boys that they like, Vicky picked on people she didn't like, but...yeah, this felt different and a lump of fear welled in her throat. She liked him as a friend but right now, so close she could smell his scent and feel his body heat...yeah, she wanted to fuck him. Bullying him wouldn't help her accomplish that goal so why do it?
Still, she just couldn't help herself. "Hey, big nose, how are they hanging? Short and shriveled?"
Anthony did not have a big nose. In fact, looking at him now, he was perfect, literally above and beyond reproach. There was nothing about him either outside or inside that she could realistically make fun of or criticize. He was probably the first - and would probably be the only - person that she couldn't roast to within an inch of their life. She could make fun of anybody no matter who they were - she could even dunk on Mother Teresa for looking like a prune - but she could not think of a single, solitary thing she could make fun of Anthony about. Not one. So she would just have to make shit up.
Well...she could maybe hit him with a bunch of racist jokes, but that might hurt his feelings.
She blinked.
Feelings?
FEELINGS?!
Since when did she care about hurting someone's feelings?! She was Victoria Campbell, she didn't give a jack shit about how anyone felt (except for her grandma and kinda sorta Tabby). She was a brute and a bully and downright delighted in that fact. When she came for someone, she came for their soul and did not go easy on them, even if she did kind of like them. The only person she had never roasted was her grandmother; she had even lit Tabby up and reduced her to tears. She felt guilty about it afterwards and apologized - she wasn't even trying to be mean, she was just kidding around - but she did it anyway. She never, ever, ever stopped to consider how her words and actions might affect the emotions and or mental health of her intended target.
"They're hanging empty and wet," Lola said.
She giggled and Lana rolled her eyes.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Vicky asked.
Lola smirked. "That's for me to know and for you to never find out." She reached under the table and grabbed Anthony's junk.
Vicky narrowed her eyes. She didn't know what Lola was trying to tell her but she didn't like it. She turned to Anthony and did her best to ignore the little glitter bitch. "You got any money on you? I want an ice cream sandwich."
"I have a couple bucks but -"
"Great," Vicky said. She thrust her hand out and wiggled her fingers.
Anthony looked uncomfortable.
"Well?" Vicky asked. "Are you gonna be greedy or are you gonna help me out? You're not a stingy little bitch are you? You are, aren't you?"
"No," Anthony said, a sullen and defensive quality to his voice. "I just need to buy -"
"Me ice cream," Vicky said and wiggled her fingers.
Sighing, Anthony reached into his pocket, took off his wallet, and removed three crumpled one dollar bills. He started to give them over but Vicky snatched them out of his hand and got up. "Thanks," she said over her shoulder.
Now, time for ice cream.
When she was gone, Lola turned to Anthony. "Why did you give her the money?"
"She was hungry," Anthony said, "Didn't you hear her stomach growling?"
Next to Lola, Lisa drummed her fingers on the table and rocked slightly back and forth. She ripped open a candy bar and shoved it into her mouth like a big, brown cigar. She mumbled something around the candy bar that sounded a lot like, "That wasn't her stomach."
Lola raised her brow.
Lisa was positively tweaking from a sugar high, and she only did that when she was stressed out about something. She had been gorging herself since that morning and had eaten so much that her belly was distended and showed beneath her baggy sweater, perfectly rounded like some fat artist's idea of cute. "Are you okay?" she asked.
Ignoring her, Lisa ripped open another candy bar wrapper and deep throated the sweet, brown thing within. Wow, does that girl even have a gag reflex? Lola didn't. She could take three cocks to the back of her throat and not miss a beat. She had never tried it but she was confident in her own ability. She turned away from Lisa and put her hand on Anthony's leg. She stroked it up and down, stopping just short of his crotch, and gave it a playful squeeze. Hers and Lana's eyes met, and Lana gave her a knowing look that told Lola she was well aware of what had happened between her and Anthony in the bathroom. Lola didn't know whether to thumb her nose at her twin or give her a conspiratorial smirk. Sharing a guy with Lana was brand new territory for her. She and Lana had never been the best at sharing and almost every time they tried, it ended in a fight. This was different, though. They both wanted Anthony and both were willing to allow the other access to him if the other was willing to do the same. It was weird, Lola thought; neither one of them wanted to fight over him. For her part, she was fine with sharing; Anthony was too beautiful and amazing to soil by fighting with Lana over. However, she and Lana hadn't really sat down and talked about what they were doing, what they expected, and what they wanted. She thought they should take turns with him rather than both being in his arms at the same time like they were now. She wanted time alone with him, without Lana hanging around, and she was sure that Lana wanted the same.
They'd have to talk about it.
And soon.
"Do you and Lola enjoy your time together?" Lana asked. There was a teasing hilt in her voice. Anthony squirmed and she took obvious delight in his discomfort, probably thinking it was cute.
"We did," Lola put in, saving him from having to respond. "I was thinking maybe we could do it again sometime." As an afterthought, she added, "In a bed."
Anthony flushed and Lana snorted. "I should have known you'd be vanilla in the bedroom."
"I wasn't very vanilla in the bathroom," she said and clutched Anthony's arm, "right, Ant?"
Anthony flashed a nervous smile. "N-No, you sure weren't."
At that, Lola shot Lana a smug smile, and Lana's eyes glinted coldly. The tomboy drew a deep breath, seemed to center herself, and then exhaled. Sharing Anthony with Lola was just a fact of life she was going to have to get used to. Did she want him for herself? Absolutely. Did Lola being into him too change anything? Not really. As long as they could both keep their jealousy and competitive nature in check, it should work out, but still, she should probably talk to Lola at some point. There were a lot of things they still needed to figure out.
Just then, Vicky returned and plopped into her seat with an ice cream sandwich. She ripped the wrapper off, licked her chops like a hungry dog, and dug in. Lisa watched her with a stricken look on her pallid face, and shakily opened another candy bar. There was definitely something up with Lise, and it almost certainly involved Vicky. Vicky picked on Lisa a lot but Lola had never seen the little genius nervous around her. Disgusted, yes, put upon, yes, but never nervous. Lola made a mental note to ask Lisa about it later; right now, her time and energy belonged to Anthony.
Her stomach growled.
Okay, maybe it belonged to her lunch instead.
Picking up her fork, she started to eat, giving Lana unobstructed access to Anthony. She stroked his leg and giggled in his ear. Lola couldn't hear what she was saying but from the way Anthony blushed, she imagined it was dirty. Her eyes went to the bulge in his pants and her breath caught. It was so big and thick that she couldn't help but touch it. She sat her fork down and ran her hand up and down his leg again, this time squeezing his crotch. His dick twitched against her hand and she traced its outline with her fingertips. A scarlet blush burst across her face and her heartbeat quickened. Lana kissed the side of his throat and he let out a tiny sigh through parted lips; Lola brushed her thumb over his head, and his hips jerked, making both her and Lana laugh. Vicky swallowed the last of her ice cream and licked melted chocolate from her fingers; Lisa watched her with a harried look, as if waiting for something terrible to happen. It never occurred to Vicky that Anthony was so popular among girls and now the twins were on Vicky's shitlist.
The bully's stomach began to gurgle and she winced. "Freaking lactose intolerance," she said.
"You're lactose intolerant?!" Lisa shrieked, eyes clearing rattling behind her glasses, "Why did you eat ice cream?!"
Vicky's eyes narrowed. "Because fu -" her words cut off when her stomach gurgled again. She hugged herself and bent over. Her face turned bright red and her jaw clenched. Lisa, already anticipating what was going to happen, jumped to her feet. It was too late, though. Vicky cocked her butt and let out a massive fart that shook the walls and sent kids flying from their seats. A noxious green cloud swept through the lunch room and people screamed as they tried to outrun it. Anthony sprinted Lola and Lana to safety, and Lisa staggered into the hall before collapsing; she sucked great gulps of fresh air and damned herself as every kind of fool for unleashing this hell upon the world. The fire alarm tripped and water began to pour from the sprinklers as an ear-piercing shriek filled the school.
The evacuation took nearly half an hour, by which time Lisa was on the athletic field with the other students. Green gas billowed from broken windows and firefighters in respirators carried unconscious kids from the charnel house that their school had become. Someone tapped Lisa on the shoulder and she turned to see Lana and Lola standing over her, one with her arms crossed and the other with her hands on her hips. "You have some explaining to do," Lola said.
"Don't even deny it, we know you did something," Lana added.
Lisa slumped her shoulders and sighed. There was no point in lying. The jig, as they say, was up, she had been discovered. "Not here," Lisa said. "Later."
Across the schoolyard, Vicky crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at the ground flush with embarrassment. She did not shame easily but this was the most humiliating day of her life, and she just wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere. Anthony walked awkwardly over and put a consoling hand on her shoulder. "It's not so bad," he said.
"It's worse than bad," she moaned.
"Well...no one's gonna make fun of you at least," Anthony said. "They're too scared of you."
Vicky smiled. "Hey, you're right."
Later came when they were on the bus home. Lisa sat in one of the seats wedged between Lana and Lola, and Anthony sat next to Vicky. The twins divided their dirty looks between the bully and the genius, upset at both. Lisa explained how she had attempted to give Anthony a dose of the Loud Gene. "I wanted to see if it could take root in someone who does not naturally possess it," she said, which was a lie; she did not tell them that she did it to get back at Anthony for triggering her own Loud Gene. "Vicky, however, took the bullet for him, as it were. I suspect that he's still infected but to a far lesser degree." She turned to Lola. "I need to test both of them. Invite them over so that I can take samples."
Lana and Lola both sighed. "Why even bother? We know they're infected."
"I could perhaps counteract the effects of the gene," Lisa said. "I can't do that for us because we were born with it but I can perhaps do it for Anthony and Vicky."
For a moment, the twins looked uncertain, then Lola rolled her eyes. "Fine." She got up and went down the aisle, "Tabby texted me and said she needs something from Luna. You mind dropping by my house and picking it up before going home?"
Vicky shot her a dirty look like she wanted to strangle her for interrupting her little talk with Anthony. "Yeah, whatever, now go away."
When the bus got to the end of Franklin, Lola, Lana, Vicky, and Anthony piled off and went to the Loud house. Lisa brought up the rear, nibbling nervously on a Kit Kat. Inside, she took a deep breath and walked up to Anthony and Vicky. She couldn't come outright and admit her wrongdoing, so she would have to lie. "I was wondering if either one of you would be interested in donating a DNA sample for research purposes."
Anthony nervously rubbed the back of his neck and Vicky shot her daggers. "No way, Frankenstein."
"I'm prepared to pay…"
Vicky blinked. "How much?"
"A hundred. A piece."
In a flash, Vicky was dragging Lisa up the stairs. "Where are we going?" she asked.
Anthony, feeling put on the spot, followed.
Lisa led them into her lab and had them sit facing each other. She prepared a hypodermic needle and drew a measure of blood from Vicky's arm, then swabbed the injection site. Once Vicky had her money in hand, she disappeared, perhaps to spend it. Now Lisa was alone with Anthony and for some reason that made her feel flush and tingly all over. Her eyes went to the bulge in his pants and her throat closed. Her stomach growled.
Only it wasn't her stomach.
Dear God, it was her uterus.
She swallowed thickly. Now she was hot all over and beginning to tremble. A change was coming over her and she was powerless to stop it, powerless to fight back. She didn't know what she was going to say until she spoke. "I'm going to employ a different method for you."
"What method?" Anthony asked.
Lisa's mouth was suddenly dry and her heart was slamming. "Remove your pants."
For a second, Anthony only looked at her in bewilderment. "What?"
"Your pants," Lisa said. "Take them off."
"No, I understood, but why?"
She swallowed around a lump in her throat. "Just do it. I've given physical examinations to my brother, father, and grandfather, you have nothing that I haven't seen before."
That wasn't true. She had never seen Lincoln, Dad, or Pop-Pop's penis nor did she want to. She did, however, want to see Anthony's. Very badly.
After a moment, Anthony got to his feet and stripped out of his pants. He wore boxers beneath them and his package filled them out quite nicely. He sat down and stared straight ahead, his hands clasped to his knees and his cheeks blazing with color. He stiffened but offered no resistance as she pressed her hand to his meaty bulge. Her heart skipped a long, staggering beat and her core pinched. She began to breathe heavily and felt even hotter, if that was possible. The heat soaking through his boxers was incredible and made her dizzy, and his musky man scent intoxicated her senses. Anthony's blush deepened and his dick began to inflate. She shakily tugged his waistband down and his dick sprang out, making Lisa go cross eyed looking at it. It was giant, from its perfectly sculpted head down to the strong, pumping cord at its base. Lisa's mouth began to salivate and a frenzied look crept into her eyes. She closed her hand around it and gave a bodywide shudder, a hitching moan escaping from her throat. The skin was hot, slick, and soft, like an iron rod in a velvet sleeve, and she shivered. She began to jack him off, hand blazing up and down, and he stared off into the distance, looking like he was enjoying it despite himself.
Sticky precum oozed from his tip and dribbled down his shaft like beads of dew and she paused to lick it from her fingers. The taste was beyond her powers to describe - sweet, salty, coppery, and good. Before she knew what she was doing, she was gobbling his cock. He prodded the back of her throat and made her gag but she didn't care; she lapped him with her tongue and bobbed her head up and down making a wet slurping sound. Anthony's eyes rolled back into his head and he flopped his head back, one hand going to the back of Lisa's head and tangling in her hair. He tried to guide her speed and slow her down, but she went faster, drizzling a mix of drool and precum all over his lap.
Anthony was enjoying the feeling but he was shocked by Lisa's actions. He always thought she hated him.
Without warning, his dick swelled and erupted, filling her mouth with hot jizz. She swallowed all of it and panted for air. Her face was red and she looked both shocked and embarrassed at what she had done. A second later, she jumped up and rushed off.
Lola and Lana sat on Lola's bed, Lola with her legs crossed and Lana perched on the edge of the bed. "You get him Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays," Lola said, "I get him Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays."
"What about Sunday?" Lana asked.
"We alternate," Lola said. "Or we can flip a coin."
Lana stroked her chin. If she had her way, she'd get Anthony every Sunday...and every other day, for that matter. Alternating sounded like the best option, though. "Alright," she said. "You get him every other Sunday."
"And when we have him," Lola said, "the other is not to bother us. On your day, I'll leave him alone and let you have his full attention. On my day, you do the same for me."
That would be hard to do since Lana could barely keep her hands and lips off of him, but it was fair enough, she supposed. "Alright. I'll go tell him."
She got up and went into the hall. She stopped when she heard grunting and moaning coming from Lincoln's room. She cocked her head to listen and jumped when Ronnie Anne's voice rang out. "WHO'S YOUR MAMA?"
"YOU ARE!" Lincoln cried.
Oh boy, something freaky's happening in there.
Chuckling softly, she went into Lisa's room and skidded to a halt. Anthony was sitting in a chair with his head back and his chest heaving. He was naked from the waist down and his dick glistened. The breath left Lana's lungs in a rush and her pussy clutched. He looked at her and their eyes met.
Yep, they were gonna fuck.
Lana hurriedly undid the straps of her overalls and let them drop; they pooled around her ankles and she stepped out of them, kicking them aside. Beneath, she wore sky blue female boxers that clung tight to her thick hips and aircraft carrier of an ass. She walked over, swishing seductively, and pulled her panties down to reveal her hairy pussy. Amthony watched her come and opened his legs to give her easier access. She put her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself onto his dick, wincing at the sting of penetration. Since she and Anthony fucked the last time, she had been thinking about nothing else but his amazing miracle dick but she had somehow forgotten just how big it was; she felt full to her throat and as she began to slide her hips up and down, she thought he was going to rip her.
Anthony cupped her fleshy hips in his hands and thrusted up to meet her downward motions; their bodies slapped together with a meaty sound. His head raked her G-Spot and tickled the opening of her womb, and her wet walls molded around his dick like a second skin. He ran his hands over her breasts and tweaked her nipples, and she slammed down on him, taking him all the way to the back of her womb. A moan knocked from her throat and she rocked her hips faster, swiveling them and swirling his dick inside of her. He clutched her breasts and started shaking.
At that moment, Lisa returned with a clean vial in one hand. She saw what was happening and started. "No! You're contaminating the sample!"
Ignoring her, Lana went on fucking him, and he started to jerk as his orgasm welled up within him. Lisa rushed over and knelt. "Get off of him," she said.
Lana lifted up and Anthony spurted cum. Lisa held the vial underneath but the jizz got all over her face instead. When it was over, her face darkened and she shoved Lana, almost knocking her over. "Get out of here, goddamn it! How dare you do this in my room?! How dare you?!" She snapped at Lana and Lana got off, laughing.
"Okay, okay, jeez."
Anthony and Lana both got dressed and left the room. As they walked down the hall hand in hand, Lana struggled to stay on her feet. She felt all warm and tingly inside, as though her internal organs had been turned to soup, and her knees were jelly. "Lola and I have decided on a plan," she said.
Anthony looked uncomfortable.
"I'm not upset about what happened in the bathroom," Lana said, "Lola told me all about it. It's fine. Though I do think you should apologize to me for making me wait so long."
Anthony rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry."
Lana smiled. "Anyway, we're going to split you between us. Lola will have you some days, and me the others. On the days I have you, you're mine. On Lola's days, you're hers. Does that work?"
It was strange and honestly, Anthony had never thought he would find himself in such a situation.
But yes, it worked perfectly. "Yeah," he said, "I'm down if you are."
"Oh, we're down," Lana grinned.
Anthony smiled back. "Good. On our next date, I'm going to eat out your sexy, sweaty ass." He licked his lips and she laughed. He was being honest, though. He had been thinking about it for days. He liked grody, freaky shit and he was going to get his fill from Lana.
Back in her lab, Lisa used an eyedropper to squirt a tiny amount of Anthony's cum on a slide. As she waited for the results, she knocked back the vial and drank every last drop, giving herself a white cummy mustache. She imagined it going into her vaginal canal and inseminating her, and her core pinched. She pictured his perfect little sperm fertilizing her eggs and she was suddenly horny all over again. She finished her beverage lest she manually insert it into her other set of lips and licked the vial clean.
When the results finally came back, she stared at them in something like horror.
The gene had taken root in both Vicky and Anthony, far more so in the former than the latter. There was nothing Lisa could do to reverse it, it would just have to run its natural course.
She gulped.
Something told her that Vicky with the Loud Gene was going to be a nightmare.
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a candy bar and started to eat.
Things were about to get interesting.
Too interesting.
On the bright side, at least Anthony had it. She would just keep the fact that there was no cure to herself, that way she could sneak in more "tests" on Anthony.
She would also have to slip birth control into Lola and Lana's meals, not her own, of course. As if he would let that brute drop baby bombs in her.
A maddening grin grace her lips at such a ludicrous thought.
Mind made up, she went back to work, wishing she had more of Anthony's delicious cum to drink.