I still couldn't manage to get back my good mood, but I suppressed the urge to run away and hide until after my appointment time had passed and tell everyone that I had been kidnapped by lesbian dwarves from Venus who probed me with their strange superscientific devices. The Venusian Lesbian Dwarf fantasy kept my mind off the visit to Dr. Bonner at the cost of making me wet thinking about all the things that the VLDs might want to do to me.
I was picturing different ways of being probed by the cute little Venusians when Sue caught up to me and put her arm around my shoulders. I startled me, both because I hadn't seen her coming, and because she never touched any of us casually.
"Hi, Sam! You look distracted this afternoon. Everything OK?" She said, cheerfully. She seemed as relaxed as I had ever seen her.
"I guess. I've got a doctor's appointment after school and I'm not looking forward to it."
"Just a check-up or are you having something done? You looked OK during class, but now you seem a little down."
"Just a check-up. I was having such a good time in class that I forgot about having to go. Now that I've remembered it, it seems like my whole day is ruined."
"Oh, I'm sure it won't be that bad. Have you been to this doctor before?"
"No, this is a guy that Mom goes to. A gynecologist. This will be my first time going to him."
Sue nodded and smiled. She misunderstood my apprehension, and I wondered if I should set her straight.
"And you're afraid he will find out you are sexually active?"
"No, I think Mom already told him all about that." I thought that Mom had probably passed on even more information about my sex life than she had mentioned to me. Mom was just being motherly, in her own way. "It's just that the doctors I've been to in the past have been really unpleasant. I'm just gun-shy."
"Well, I'm sure this one will be different. But good doctors are hard to find. Sometimes you have to overlook the poor bedside manner if they seem to know what they are doing," she told me.
I wanted to ask about her own experiences with doctors, and gynecologists specifically, but we were already back to the locker room and I had to take my second shower of the afternoon.
When I got in the shower, I found that my jewelry was just as popular as before. Everyone seemed to want to have another look and I tried to be nice and let them look and admire as much as they wanted. Some girls wanted to go beyond looking, and had to handle the bells, the chain, the rings, and me. The 'me' part wasn't that surprising, but that they would be bold enough to do it in a crowded locker room — was. It was all under the pretext of seeing for themselves how deeply the rings went, and how they could be flipped up and down, and no, they didn't hurt when they did that, and so on. Still, once Polly ran her finger across my nipple to see what happened to the rings when my areola crinkled up, it seemed to signal the start of Fondling Season and I found myself being touched, stroked, and pawed by one girl after another.
Some of them came around more than once, getting bolder each time. I escaped for a moment by excusing myself and running for the shower, but that just changed the venue, not the attraction. I was about to become exasperated with it and shoo them all away, but all the attention was improving my mood and the stimulation certainly wasn't doing me any harm at all. After I had toweled off and dressed up to my waist, I found my breasts once again open for business as Polly found a few girls who hadn't had a close enough look yet and she insisted on giving them a guided tour.
This time the touching became more overt and the stroking gave way to gentle squeezing. Once another boundary had been crossed with no complaint from me, it turned into a game of top-this led by Polly. While I stood with my hands behind me, she practically ravished my breasts. Her hands, and several others, roamed freely. It quickly became clear that my jewelry wasn't the main attraction, that it was just an excuse for everyone to satisfy their curiosity and their repressed and not so repressed urges to get their hands on my boobs in a situation where no one would suspect them of being lesbian. I'm not sure if being a lesbian was such a bad thing, except that Yvette got pretty screwed up because of it and consequently dumped a lot of stuff on me that I could have done without, but if the boys thought you were, they might avoid you, and no even marginally heterosexual girl could have stood the thought of that. I had always figured that that was the main reason why there were so few girls in the school Gay/Lesbian Alliance club. Even those who might have benefited from it stayed away because they were afraid of burning bridges.
I became conscious of the fact that my line of reasoning was being biased by the fact that the groping I was getting was making me very hot. Nothing could mess up your internal intellectual monologue quicker than having your hormone level shoot through the roof. I abandoned my train of thought and just focused on enjoying the stimulation.
The hands exploring my chest got more aggressive and I became more receptive. Polly seemed to have given up even a pretense of admiring my jewelry and seemed to be trying to make me as hot as she could. She had commandeered one breast all to herself and had made that nipple swell up to impressive size. She had flipped the ring out of the way and was stroking and tugging on it like she was milking a cow.
That, of course, was the wrong thing to be thinking about. In my present horny state, I could probably be seduced into lactating pretty easily. Thinking about being milked would push me into it with no trouble at all. Once it occurred to me that it was a possibility; that made it a probability. That made it likely, and that made it a sure thing.
I felt the beginnings of the warm sensation start up deep in my breasts. In a minute, I would begin to feel the warmth spread through them. Then the fullness would set in, then the heaviness, then would come the dripping, the squirting, and the gushing as I gave forth a flood of - Dammit! Stop that right now!
I caught myself just in time. Things had just got to the fullness stage and I was able to shut it off before it got out of hand, or rather, out of me. I wasn't sure how my classmates would react and I didn't want to get a reputation as Sam the Cow. I smiled at that, but it was true that there were more than enough things that made me stand out and I did not need to add to the list.
I needed to put a stop to the groping in a polite way before I started leaking from one place or the other. Fortunately, Polly provided an unintentional excuse. She pulled on my nipple very roughly, stretching it out to the very limit before squeezing it in her fist. The intense feeling made me almost lose control. My jaw dropped and I let out a short squeak and took a deep, shuddering breath. I was about to tell her to do that again when she took her hands away, leaving me on the brink of an orgasm.
"Sorry, Sam," Polly said, and not all that sincerely. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
My cry seemed to have broken the mood and everyone backed off as if to deny responsibility for hurting me. I cupped my tender nipples with my hands and pressed in protectively. The large and swollen mounds of my areolas filled my palms and feet like two overbaked cupcakes sprouting from the ends of my breasts.
"No, really. It's all right," I told her, and everyone else standing close to me who looked concerned. "You just got a little rough. That's all. I was really enjoying that." I batted my eyelashes coyly at those who were still nearby, reluctant to go about their business while I was still on display. I picked up my blouse and put it on with some minor fumbling at the buttons. "Did you?" I asked Polly in a hushed tone.
"Did I? Oh!" She seemed flustered, as if I hadn't known she had the hots for me. As if she thought she could still deny the look in her eyes as she had pawed me so eagerly. "Yes, I suppose I did," she said at last, turning partially away and bending over to go through the motions of tying her already-tied shoelaces.
"Maybe you'd like to try it again sometime?" I suggested in a whisper in her ear. "Maybe without everyone else around? Maybe I can even return the favor?"
She turned a bright scarlet color from her forehead to her throat. She tried to look me in the eye, but her gaze slid past mine as she said, "I... I'm not... that way. Really!"
"What way? Lesbian? Me neither. I like boys, too. Heck, I like boys an awful lot. But that doesn't mean I can't play with girls, too. It's just playing, see? It doesn't mean we're going steady or anything."
She seemed relieved at that, then she looked mildly disappointed, then confused. She was obviously having the same difficult time figuring out what she was and what she wanted as everyone else our age. I smiled reassuringly at her and put my hand on her arm as we picked up our bookbags and backpacks and headed to our next class.
"Don't worry about it. Nobody is going to hold you to anything yet. You can try stuff and see if you like it and not feel like you have to make up your mind about anything before you're ready. Just relax and enjoy life. Hey, you only go around once..."
"And if you work it right, once is enough," she finished, giggling. "Yeah, you're right. I don't know what I want. I just... you're so gorgeous! I just can't keep my hands off you. Is that wrong?" She finished on a serious note.
"No. It's very flattering, for one thing. For another... you almost made me cum."
"What? Just from... ?"
"Unhunh. Just from you touching me. If you hadn't stopped when you did, you would have seen me cum right there in front of you and everyone else. I'm very easy to get going, see? Especially when you treat me rough, like you did. That really turns me on."
"Really? You know, I was enjoying it quite a bit, too," she said, shyly.
"Oh?" I knew she was enjoying herself from the way she tried to monopolize me, but it sounded like there was something else she wanted to tell me.
"Yeah. I know I was getting carried away there, and I'm sorry about that. But the rougher I got the more I got off in it. I didn't want to hurt you... not exactly."
"'Not exactly'? What does that mean?"
"I guess it means I resent you for being so gorgeous and for having such great tits. You remember last week, when Heather accused you of hogging all the hunks? That was exactly how I felt. I think I wanted to hurt you because you're so much prettier than me."
That was an interesting admission. But I felt that there was still more to it. I stopped and sidled the two of us into an alcove between two rows of lockers.
"Leaving aside the idea that I am so much prettier than you, which did you enjoy more, touching me or hurting me?" I asked.
Polly refused to look at me. She hung her head and said, "I enjoyed both. But I got more excited when I thought I was hurting you. When you cried out, I got very excited. I'm so ashamed of myself. I'm sorry."
"I'm not."
"Hunh?"
"I said, I'm not sorry. Like I said, you almost made me cum. Not from the gentle touching, but from the rough handling. You see, I have a very high pain threshold and I can take a lot of abuse. Stuff that makes other people scream in agony just makes me hot. Sometimes it's hard for me to decide where the line is between pleasure and pain." I thought back to my afternoon in the dungeon. "Sometimes there isn't a line at all and anything feels good."
"Anything?"
"Pretty much. So don't worry about hurting me, because chances are, you can't. I mean, aside from stuff that you know will cause permanent damage; I'm up for whatever you want to do to me."
I knew I was opening a door here that I might regret later, but this seemed like too good a chance to pass up. Thinking about what Polly might want to do to me made me even more excited than I had been before. She had just discovered her sadistic streak and she had no experience at inflicting pain. It sounded like it would be a lot of fun to see how inventive she could be. Judging from her expression as she thought about it, she had some ideas already.
"So, it's like a game?" she asked.
"Yeah. A game between the two of us. See if you can think of interesting things to do to hurt me. If I think it's too... no, let's not start with rules yet. I'm just going to trust you not to hurt me too bad, OK?"
"OK. Gee, this is going to be a lot of fun. Do you want me to tell you about it ahead of time, or do you want me to surprise you?"
"Surprise me. Unless letting me think about it for a while ahead of time will make it better."
"All right. You're on." She said, looking down at my boobs under my blouse.
The last bell was about to ring for the start of class and the hall was almost empty, so we had a few seconds of privacy. Polly reached out and undid a couple of buttons and slid her hand inside my blouse. I was dripping with anticipation and the delicious fear of shat she planned to do. When her hand closed on my breast, I was already panting.
She slipped a finger through the ring in my left nipple, rubbing it across my stiffening nub as she did so. To show her she could do whatever she wanted, I assumed the brace position I had learned from Mom — hands behind my back, shoulders pulled back, and tits up for inspection.
Seeing me take a submissive posture made Polly smile and she grabbed my nipple tightly. I shivered slightly and she pulled on it. The feeling was wonderful. Her fingers were twisted tightly around my already red and puffy nipple and she had pulled by breast out of my open blouse. She tightened her grip on me and pulled up toward her chin, forcing me onto my toes, just like Mom used to do.
When she had me as completely extended as she could without pulling me off-balance, she turned her wrist over and twisted my nipple around 180 degrees. The feeling was almost like my nipple was about to be ripped off. It was excruciatingly great and I was so distracted that I almost let the metal balls drop out of my rapidly flooding pussy. I had just clenched my opening shut and pulled them back in when the bell rang signaling the start of class and Polly let go.
I rocked back on my heels, feeling excited and frustrated that we didn't have more time. We both snatched up our bags and stuff and raced for class so as not to be too badly late. It was better to be seen racing in seconds late than to saunter in minutes after the bell had rung. The former could be excused as an unavoidable delay, but the latter was almost always put down to poor planning and could result in being marked tardy if the teacher was in a pissy mood.
I was so distracted by the rush Polly had given me that I didn't notice that my blouse was still unbuttoned and hanging open until I slid into my desk.
So I could see the desktop, I had learned to sit with my shoulders twisted to the left at an angle so my breasts wouldn't be in the way of my books. As I sat down, I looked down and saw that one breast was almost completely exposed.
I quickly pulled my blouse shut and held it there while I tried to hang onto the books in my right hand while holding my blouse shut and buttoning it up with my left. Miss Albert was busy writing some formulas on the board and hadn't seen my lateness or the state my clothes were in, but the boy in the desk to my left had obviously had a real good look when I sat down.
His name was Ron Majors and he was grinning like the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland at his wonderful luck.
I smiled back at Ron and improved his good fortune by handing him my books to hold while I got myself together. This resulted in my blouse falling completely open, as I was sure it would, according to Murphy's law. Ron got a clear view of my breast, with its rosy and hugely swollen nipple and areola, until he politely took the books out of my hands and freed me to close and fasten my clothing. He observed that process closely, as though seeing buttons being operated were the most fascinating thing he'd ever witnessed.