I Dare You 2

by Arthur Saxon
meganeura@hotmail.com

Knock knock! Matthew Wright leaned over to turn his music down. “Hello, come in!” he said, and he swivelled his chair to face the door of his bedsit.

It was young Alan Hughes, a fourth-former, who entered, looking a little nervous. “Hi Matthew,” he said. “You said you might … um … take a look at my poem…”

“Ah yes, for the Writers’ Circle!” said Matthew. “My goodness, I’d quite forgotten. Yes, please sit down.”

Alan closed the door and sat down, feeling a little sheepish. “If you’re too busy…” he said.

“No no,” said Matthew. “Let’s take a look.” He took the scrap of paper that Alan was holding, and opened it out. “Angel Dreams. Good title! I like it already.”

Alan glowed. Like all of the juniors in Gresham House, he idolised Matthew, who was almost obscenely talented and good-looking. With fair hair that looked perfect even at the end of a gruelling rugby game, sky-blue eyes, and a smile that could charm anyone, male or female, at fifty yards, Matthew was arguably the most popular boy in the school. Certainly in Gresham House. It seemed likely that he would be Head of School next year. He had just been appointed captain of the school cricket team, and he was planning to take no fewer than five A-levels the following summer. A gifted musician, he was already playing the chapel’s organ almost as well as the music director herself, and his flute solos were a highlight of every school concert.

“I lost my mother when I was eight,” read Matthew aloud,
“To a sad and terrible twist of fate
When I was stood outside the gate
Of school, wondering why she was late.

“She parked across the road from me,
And waved her arms, so that I would see;
And she started running across the road,
Not seeing the lorry which had not slowed.

“But the action slowed, and in my mind,
I tried to pause, to hit rewind.
But though the driver hit the brake,
He could not fix his bad mistake.

“Now she is gone, but in my dreams,
She watches over me, it seems.
My guardian angel, as she might be;
I wonder if she dreams of me…”

Matthew lowered the paper, and shook his head slowly. “My goodness, Alan, that’s brilliant! Poetic, poignant, simple to follow yet wonderfully evocative … and it really … it resonates, you know? I think it’s amazing.”

Alan’s cheeks were becoming redder by the second. “Well thanks, Matthew! Thank you very much. Jeez, it sounds so much better when you read it, actually. So you think it’s worth taking to the Writers’ Circle?”

“Absolutely!” said Matthew. “You should be very proud of that poem, Alan. I know the story already, of course, but when you put it in those words … it means so much more. Heck, you’ve even got me getting a little teary!” He sniffed.

“Is there anything I should change?” asked Alan anxiously. “Some of it feels a little … I don’t know…”

“Well it’s very well-written as it is,” said Matthew. “That’s not to say it couldn’t be tweaked in certain places. What parts are you not happy with?”

“Um, the second verse…?” ventured Alan.

Matthew re-read it. “I see what you mean,” he said, nodding sagely. “The scansion in the second line is a little awkward. What if you changed it to ‘And waved her arms, for me to see’?”

“Oh! That’s better,” said Alan. “I like that.”

“Also it wouldn’t hurt to drop the ‘she’ in the third line – it’s a little redundant,” added Matthew.

“Okay!” said Alan, taking the paper back and scribbling on it. “Anything else?”

“Well,” said Matthew, almost apologetically, “the third line of the first verse is just a little ungrammatical… Perhaps you could change it to ‘While I was waiting by the gate’?”

“Oh, oh yes, better!” said Matthew, writing feverishly. “Go on!”

“The next line has a bit of a scansion problem too,” said Matthew. “Too many syllables for a good flow. Also maybe ‘At school’ is better than ‘Of school’, which is a little too married to the word ‘gate’ at the end of the previous line…”

He continued through the whole poem, and when he had finished, he re-read it out loud, and Alan thanked him profusely for making it so good. But Matthew would not hear a word of it. “You’d have come to the same conclusions if you had thought it over a little longer, I’m sure. I did nothing except bring into focus what was already there. You’ve got a great poem there, Alan – I look forward to seeing you read it at the Writers’ Circle next week.”

“Thank you!” said Alan. “Um, Matthew, I can’t help wondering what you’ve got there in your hand…”

“Oh this?” said Matthew, holding up a gold necklace. “This is a present for my girlfriend. Want to see?”

“Sure,” said Alan, taking it from Matthew. The necklace consisted of a locket on a very slender chain. He popped open the locket, and was surprised to discover that it had two compartments, each containing two tiny photos of middle-aged men and women. “Are these her grandparents or something?”

“Yes indeed,” said Matthew. “For her sixth birthday she got a locket from her mother’s parents, and she absolutely treasured it. She took it everywhere with her, she says. Unfortunately she took it to the beach one day, and left it on a rock. She remembered it hours later, and went back with her dad to find it, but the tide had come in and it was gone. She was heartbroken, but she didn’t dare tell her grandparents that she had lost the locket. Anyway, fast forward to last term, when she told me that story. Over the holidays I got in touch with her parents, and had them send me some photos of all four of her grandparents. I bought this locket, cut the photos to size, set them inside, and voila! I do hope she’ll be pleased. I’m going to give it to her as an anniversary present – we first got together a year ago next Tuesday.”

“Oh my god, that is such a cool present!” said Alan. “She’s a very lucky girl!”

“No no, I’m the lucky one!” said Matthew. “I’m going out with the prettiest girl in the school!”

Alan grinned. “Well you make a great couple,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled with the locket – it’s awesome, and really thoughtful of you.”

“Thank you!” said Matthew.

“I’ll let you get back to your work,” said Alan. “Thanks for taking the time…”

“Don’t mention it!” said Matthew. “Any time at all.”

“What a nice guy!” Alan said to himself as he closed the door behind him and headed down the corridor. He descended a flight of stairs, and started down another corridor on his way back to his dormitory. But suddenly a large, growling shape leaped out at him from a dark cubicle, and he yelped in fright, dropping his poem on the floor. But then he saw who it was.

“Damn it, Colin!” he said. He stooped to pick up his poem.

But Colin was too quick for him, and snatched the piece of paper from the floor. “What’s this?” he sneered. “A note for your imaginary girlfriend?”

Like everybody else, Alan hated Colin Grossman with a passion. It was not just that the boy was greasy-haired, covered in zits, had foul body odour and even worse breath – he also had the single most unpleasant personality of anyone at the school. Alan would love to have punched Colin right now, except that Colin was at least six inches taller, and two years older, than he was.

“Give that back!” he said, lunging for it.

But Colin, laughing, held him at bay, and read the poem out loud. “Ooh, it’s about your dead mum!” he said. “Poor little Alan – did mummy go splat against the front of a lorry?”

“You … fucking…” said Alan as he struggled to reach the piece of paper, getting increasingly upset.

“Did you see her guts go flying down the road?” asked Colin, giggling. “Did the lorry actually run over her, bumpity-bumpity-bump?”

“You bastard!” shouted Alan, tears running down his cheeks. Then he started pleading. “Give it to me! Please Colin! That’s my only copy.”

But Colin crumpled up the piece of paper and popped it in his mouth. “Mmm,” he said while chewing. “Tasty.”

Alan tore himself away, and ran off, crying, down the corridor. Colin laughed hysterically, and, retrieving the sodden wad of paper from his mouth, he tossed it into a nearby bin. Then he went to visit his friend Gregor, a fifth-former whose cube was right next to his own, a little further down this corridor. Colin was also in the fifth form, although at seventeen he was more than a year older than Gregor – never one to take schoolwork seriously, as a third-former he had come last in more than half of his end-of-year exams, failing all but one, and had been held back a year as a consequence.

Gregor’s light was off, but he was home. “What can you see?” asked Colin in a whisper.

“Fuck-all right now,” said Gregor. “Saw Amy Jackson’s tits about half an hour ago though.”

“Nice! What were they like?”

“Big and juicy,” said Gregor. “Fucking slut.”

“Yeah – what a slut,” said Colin. “Any girl with tits that big is a slut by definition.”

“Wise words, mate,” said Gregor. “Wise words.”

“Ooh – what’s this – Sarah Constable in her undies!” breathed Gregor. “I think she might be about to … yes! Result!”

“Lemme see!” cried Colin, grabbing for Gregor’s binoculars.

“Fuck you!” said Gregor angrily, yanking them from Colin’s grasp. “You can have a go in a minute. They’re my fucking binoculars.”

“Selfish git,” said Colin, kicking his friend in the buttock. He peered through the gap in Gregor’s curtains, and saw a distant pink figure in a window of Shelby House on the other side of the Quad. “I need my own fucking binoculars!” he moaned.

************************************

“Come in!” said Matthew in response to another knock on his door. The door opened, and there stood his beloved girlfriend.

“Francesca!” he exclaimed happily, jumping up and pulling her into a tight embrace. “Oh my god, I missed you so much!” He kissed her passionately, his tongue swirling against hers, while her huge breasts pressed deliciously into his well-honed abs.

But as they broke apart, a full minute later, he realised that her eyes were full of tears. “Whatever’s wrong?” he asked.

“I…” began Francesca, her voice cracking, “I’ve … done something … terrible!”

He took her hands in his, and pulled her down to sit on the edge of his bed. “Whatever it is,” he said firmly, “we’ll fix it. Now tell me what you’ve done.”

Francesca burst into tears, and it was several minutes before he could get anything out of her at all. In the meantime he cuddled her, he stroked her hair, he murmured reassuring nothings into her ear, and he gave her a handful of tissues, which she quickly worked through.

“Matthew,” she sniffed miserably, after somehow pulling herself together. “We … we have to break up.”

Matthew felt as if his blood had turned to ice in his veins. “Break up?” he echoed. “But why? Was it something I did?”

“No!” said Francesca. “God, Matthew, you’re the best boyfriend I could ever have wished for. No, it’s … it’s something I’ve done…”

“Well there you go again,” said Matthew. “What have you done, exactly?”

Francesca hung her head, and tears dripped on to her bare knees. “I … I played a game of Dare with some of my friends in Pankhurst,” she said. “We were daring each other to do disgusting things.”

“Uh-oh,” said Matthew. “I’ve warned you about taking part in those games.”

“At first the forfeit for refusing a dare was to kiss Colin Grossman…”

“Ugh, really?” said Matthew, screwing up his face. “Please don’t tell me you forfeited…”

That set Francesca off again, so Matthew had to wait again, until she had calmed down a little. “Well if you agreed to kiss Colin Grossman,” he said, “then I suppose you need to go ahead and do it. I know you didn’t agree to it in order to hurt me.” Then he added, for levity’s sake, “Just, please, wash your mouth out and take a shower before you come and kiss me again…” He chuckled.

But Francesca was no happier. “It’s worse than that!” she wailed. “As the dares escalated, so did the forfeits. By the time I finally refused a dare, the forfeit was to become Colin’s boyfriend and let him get me pregnant! And then marry him!”

Now Matthew felt as if he had been stabbed through the heart. “You … agreed … to that?”

“Yes!” sobbed Francesca. “I’m suh…so…soh…sorry!!”

Matthew was lost for words. He continued to stroke Francesca’s hair, absent-mindedly. “So, that’s it?” he said eventually, in a weak voice. “You’re just going to dump me, and start going out with Colin?”

“I’m sorry!” Francesca wailed. “I don’t want to! But what else can I do?”

“Isn’t there a way out of it? A way around it? A loophole?” asked Matthew desperately.

Francesca shook her head. “Once the dare or forfeit has been agreed to, there’s no going back,” she said. “And I agreed to the forfeit! I’m so sorry – I wish I had gone ahead with the dare now – but I can’t take it back!”

“What was the dare?” asked Matthew, feeling rather angry now. “What was so horrible that you would rather marry Colin?”

“They wanted me to fill my vagina with poo, and keep it full always, every day until I leave this school!” said Francesca. “And also I had to keep my bra and panties full of poo whenever I was in Pankhurst House! And they wanted me to eat a grapefruit-sized chunk of poo!”

“Yuck!” exclaimed Matthew. “Good grief! Well I can understand you not wanting to do all that… Oh my poor sweet Francesca – however did you get sucked into that awful game?”

“I was there!” she replied with a helpless shrug. “I don’t know – it just escalated so quickly!”

He sighed, and held her head against his chest. “Well I suppose this is it, then,” he said sadly. “No more us.” Tears came to his eyes. “I thought we’d be together forever!”

“Me too!” she said, weeping into his shirt. “Oh Matthew, I imagined such a happy life with you.” She continued to cry for another five minutes while he held her. But then she sat up, wiping her eyes. “Well I won’t say goodbye, because we’ll see each other around school. But it’s kind of like a goodbye, all the same…”

“Oh! I nearly forgot – I have something for you,” said Matthew. “I was going to give it to you next week, on the anniversary of our getting together, but I suppose now is as good a time as any.” He retrieved a small box from his desk, and handed it to her.

She opened it, and gasped at the beautiful locket inside. “It’s lovely!” she said. “Oh but Matthew, I don’t deserve this! You should take it back…”

“Open it,” he prompted her.

She did so, and her jaw dropped. “Oh Matthew!” she shrieked. “It’s Granny and Grampy!” She turned and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!!”

“That’s not all,” he said. “Take a closer look.”

She did, and found the second clasp, which she popped open. “Grandma and Grandpa!” she exclaimed. “Wow Matthew, this is such a wonderful…” Her face dissolved into tears again, and she buried herself in his chest.

“Hush,” he said softly, stroking her shoulder. “Think of it as a parting gift – something to remember me by.”

“Oh Matthew, no matter how long I live, you’ll always be my true love,” sobbed Francesca. She sat up and kissed him on the lips. “Goodbye,” she said. “Thank you so much for my wonderful present. Now, I suppose, I have to go and have sex with Colin…”

Matthew shuddered. “He doesn’t deserve it!” he said. “Oh Francesca… I hope it won’t be too awful for you…”

She got to her feet, sadly slouching her shoulders. “How about a farewell kiss?”

Matthew nodded, got up, and lifted her off her feet as he pulled her against his chest, kissing her deeply and powerfully. She closed her eyes, relaxing completely and losing herself in his loving arms and lips. But all too soon, it was over, and he was setting her down. “Goodbye,” he said.

She left the room, tears rolling down her cheeks, and went off in search of Colin. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, he would not be in his cube. But then she sighed: if he were not there, she would only have to go in search of him. There was no escaping her fate.

As it happened, she found him in the senior common room, spotting him as she passed the open door. Her stomach gnawing at her, she entered and made her way towards him. He was air-guitaring to some heavy metal song that was playing, while jumping around and generally making a fool of himself. “Listen to this bit! I love this bit!” he shouted as he climbed on to a table. He leaped off, thrashing his imaginary guitar, and stumbled as he landed.

Everyone was ignoring him, partly because this is what they generally did anyway, but also because Francesca was the kind of girl that turned heads wherever she went, and now was no exception. She knew that most of the boys here would kill to be her boyfriend. Ordinarily she would not consider any of them worthy, but right now she would happily have picked any one of them over Colin. Unfortunately, she did not have that option.

“Hi Colin,” she said, when he finally noticed her and affected an ingratiating grin that was almost a leer as he stared at her huge chest, and the bra that was faintly visible through her blouse.

He looked up at her face, surprised to hear his name coming from her lips. “Er, hi,” he said. He assumed an air of nonchalance. “What’s up, baby? You here for some sweet lovin’ from the class stud?” He pointed at his own chest as he said this, just in case she was in any doubt as to whom he meant.

Francesca tried not to look as revolted as she felt. “Actually yes,” she said, attempting to sound carefree and calm. “I was wondering if you would like to be my boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry?” he said, completely floored. All around the room, the other Gresham House fifth-formers gasped and stared. Colin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“It’s not a trick, Colin,” said Francesca, dying inside a little. “If you want me as your girlfriend, I’m yours.”

“What the fuck, Fran?” demanded Ronnie, a boy she knew who was friendly with Matthew. “What’s are you doing? Does Matthew know you’re here?”

“Matthew and I just broke up,” said Francesca, swallowing to suppress a sob. “So what do you say, Colin?”

“Well duh! Yeah, obviously I want you!” said Colin. “But jeez, do you think I’m an idiot?”

All eyes were on Francesca as she advanced towards Colin. “As I said, Colin, it’s not a trick.” She reached out and took his hand. He hesitated, not sure whether to pull it away or not. But when she guided it to her left breast, his eyes widened.

“Bloody hell!” he whispered. He clasped his fingers, grabbing hold of her breast, or as much of it as he could get his hand around, and squeezed it. Then he reached up with his other hand and grabbed her right breast. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this!”

Francesca hated feeling his hands clutching her breasts, but she knew she had to follow through with this. She stood on tiptoes, grasped his zit-riddled cheeks with her hands, and pulled his face towards hers. His sewer breath almost made her gag, but she forced herself to plant her lips upon his, and, after bracing herself, she slipped her tongue into his mouth.

“Eww, sick!” exclaimed one of the other boys, and similar cries of disgust came from all around the room.

Colin responded to the kiss with more enthusiasm than ability, thrusting his tongue into Francesca’s mouth and then waggling it from side to side while she fought down the urge to retch. She quickly learned to avoid his teeth, which were rough and crusty with plaque, but his foul-tasting tongue was just as bad. She pulled away just in time to stop herself from retching.

“That was awesome!” exclaimed Colin, his eyes shining. “Thank you, Fran!”

Francesca forced herself to smile. “Don’t mention it,” she said. She almost added “You can take your hands off my boobs now”, but that did not seem like a very seductive thing to do – and she was after all supposed to be seducing him. So she said nothing while he continued to squeeze and fondle her breasts through her blouse and bra.

“I can’t believe you just kissed Colin Grossman!” exclaimed Ronnie. “Are you out of your mind?”

Francesca ignored him, her stomach cramping up as she said, “So Colin, am I your girlfriend now or what?”

“You seriously want to be my girlfriend?” asked Colin, incomprehension warring with excitement on his ugly, zit-infested face.

“Yes,” she replied, after only a moment’s hesitation.

“Then fucking hell, yes!” said Colin. “Yes of course!”

“All right,” said Francesca. “Then why don’t we go to your cube and get better … acquainted?”

“Fucking hell!” Colin breathed, his eyes wide beneath straggly ginger eyebrows. “You mean … like … have sex…?”

“No she doesn’t mean that!” snapped Jeff Holt, the captain of the fifth form.

“Actually,” said Francesca, her voice quavering a little, “I do mean that. Come on Colin, let’s go and have sex.”

“Wowww!” exclaimed Colin. “Oh wow oh wow oh wow!” He let go of her breasts, finally, and practically pranced to the door. “Come on then!”

Francesca started after him, but Ronnie caught her arm. “Fran!” he said, in great distress. “What’s got into you? Why are you doing this?”

“Let me go, please,” said Francesca, pulling away from him. “I … I’m meant to be with Colin.”

A stunned silence fell over the common room as she followed Colin out into the corridor. But then someone said, “I don’t believe for a minute that they’re going to do it. Let’s go and see what happens.” And there was general agreement with this.

Francesca and Colin had barely entered his cube when there came a pattering of feet down the corridor, and a dozen faces crowded into the gap between the doorframe and the top of the cube door, pushing aside the drape that normally stopped people from seeing into the cube.

“Hey, you guys, just fuck off and leave us alone!” said Colin, annoyed.

“We want to see if she’s really going to go through with it,” said a grinning Willie Tanner.

“Well she probably won’t if you fuckers are hanging around!” said Colin. “Get lost!”

“Good!” said Ronnie, forcing his head in between two others. “You don’t deserve her! I for one am willing to hang around here all night if it means she doesn’t have sex with you.”

Colin’s expression was one of desperation. “Please!” he begged. “Come on, chaps – this could be the best night of my life!”

“You don’t deserve to have a best night of your life!” said Max Haversham.

Colin turned to Francesca. “What if we went somewhere else?” There were tears in his eyes.

“We’ll follow you wherever you go!” said Ronnie.

Colin whimpered. He turned watery, pleading eyes back to Francesca. “Please – I want this so badly!”

Francesca glanced up at the faces above Colin’s door, and shuddered internally. But she summoned up all of her bravery, and said, “It doesn’t matter that they’re here. We can do it anyway.”

Colin’s eyes lit up. “Really?” he said, overjoyed. “Wow! Do you really mean it?”

“Yes Colin,” she said, trying not to imagine what it would be like to have sex in front of other people – and with Colin!

“Okay!” said Colin excitedly. “Well – so how should we do this? Um … I’ve never actually…”

“I figured as much,” she said. She lay down on his bed, on her back. Reaching up underneath her skirt, she took hold of her panties and pulled them down her legs, taking care not to let anyone see her pussy in the process. “Now why don’t you pull your trousers down, and lie on top of me?”

Colin started to unfasten his belt, but then he licked his lips. “Um … do you think you could be … naked … for this? I mean, I’ve never actually seen a naked girl – not in real life I mean…” He trailed off, looking hopeful.

Francesca looked up at the faces at the door – some were horrified, while others were clearly excited. She gulped, and said, “Uh … okay…” And she began to unbutton her blouse. There were gasps as her huge, bra-clad breasts were exposed, and then exclamations of astonishment as she slipped her bra off her shoulders.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” muttered Colin, staring in fascination at her voluptuous chest. He reached out and put his right hand on her left breast, cupping it and squeezing it – or as much of it as would fit into his hand, at least.

Francesca kicked off her shoes, and removed her socks. Then, biting her lip, she unfastened her skirt and pulled it off quickly, kicking it off the edge of the bed. Clasping her hands over her pussy, she lay back down. Colin pulled her arms down to her sides, uncovering her little tuft of blonde pubic hair, and he stared at it for a full minute with hungry eyes before gingerly placing his hand on her mound.

“Come on, Colin,” said Francesca, now just wanting it to be over as soon as possible, so that she could put her clothes back on. “Climb on top of me.”

Feverishly Colin unzipped and pulled his trousers down, followed by his yellow-stained and brown-streaked Y-fronts. The smell of unwashed penis wafted up to Francesca’s nostrils, and she had to fight the urge to leap up off the bed and run away screaming. Colin’s erection was a little over four inches in length – with any luck, Francesca thought to herself, he would be shooting blanks.

Colin pulled her legs apart, and positioned himself between them. He was now obscuring the other boys’ view of her pussy, which caused some murmurings of frustration. But then someone opened the door, and they all crowded in, filling the cube with jostling bodies.

“Get out, get out!” shouted Colin.

“How are you going to fuck her with that titchy little thing?” asked Cameron Mackie, pointing in amusement at Colin’s wilting penis.

Colin covered himself up. “Hey, fuck you!” he complained. “Look, all of you, just get the fuck out of here, all right?”

“Aren’t you even going to use a condom?” demanded Ronnie. “Fran, make him use a condom, at least!”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Francesca. “Wrong time of the month. Colin, just ignore them,” she added, trying hard herself to ignore the grinning boys staring at her exposed pussy. “Just look at me, and imagine how good it’s going to be to put your dick inside me.”

This worked – as Colin stared down at her pussy lips, his uncircumcised penis rose to the occasion. He clumsily poked it between her labia, but she was quite dry, and winced as he attempted to force it inside her. “Wait!” she gasped. “Um, do you have any baby oil or Vaseline or something to lubricate yourself with?”

“No,” said Colin.

“Spit on it!” suggested Cameron.

Colin looked at Francesca, who shrugged. He spat into his hand, and wiped his saliva all over his erection. Then he spat again, and this time rubbed saliva around Francesca’s vaginal opening. Leaning over her, he re-positioned his penis, and thrust forward. He sank deep within her, or at least as deep as his unimpressive length would allow, and unleashed several spurts of semen, which splashed against her cervix. “Uhhuhhuhh!” he moaned.

“Did you … did you come already?” demanded Ronnie.

Cameron and a couple of the other boys burst out laughing. “You suck, Colin!” said Lenny Valmont.

“Well I damn well hope you don’t get pregnant, Fran,” said Ronnie, shaking his head sadly. “I’m leaving – I can’t bear to watch this any more.” He pushed his way through the other boys towards the doorway.

Colin had collapsed on top of Francesca, and she held him while the other boys continued to hang around and stare at them both, occasionally making disparaging comments, which they tried to ignore. After a couple of minutes, Francesca said, “Well okay Colin, now we’re officially going out together.”

Colin raised his head to look hopefully at her. “So – we can do this again?”

“Of course,” she assured him. “I’m your girlfriend now, Colin – we can do this as often as you like. But for now I should get moving – I need to buy some skirts from the school shop, and it closes at nine.”

“Oh – okay,” said Colin, climbing off her. He grinned sheepishly. “Could you get some really short ones…?”

“They’re all really short, Colin,” she said, sitting up and then reaching down to pick up her bra from the floor. “It’s the rules.”

“I mean, really short,” he persisted.

“Yes, I suppose so,” she said, with a little sigh. She hurriedly dressed herself under the part-lustful, part-disgusted stares of the Gresham fifth-formers. She turned back to Colin and kissed him goodbye – a lingering kiss that involved half a minute of tongue-wrestling – then she left his cube and trotted down the corridor, her F-cup breasts bouncing uncomfortably despite her bra.

As she turned a corner, however, she almost ran into Mr Pilchard, the ferocious Gresham housemaster. He scowled at her. “What are you doing in the boys’ cubes?” he boomed at her. “Up to no good, I’ll be bound! Sex, probably! You’re seeing that Wright boy, aren’t you? Not that he’s on this floor…”

Francesca could feel Colin’s sperm leaking out into her panties, and the horror of what she had just done finally sank in. Her shoulders shaking, she bowed her head and sobbed miserably.

“Good lord!” said Mr Pilchard, whipping out a clean handkerchief and handing it to her. “There, there, my dear, no need for all that. Whatever’s the matter?”

“N…nothing,” said Francesca, taking the handkerchief and mopping up tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I was just leaving.”

“Yes, well, all right, off you go. Ah, but Miss Collins, that skirt, is it regulation length…?”

“No,” said Francesca, calming down a little. “Mrs Willis told me to get some new skirts at the shop this afternoon, but I went and it was closed. I’m on my way back there now.”

“Oh … good. Well, run along then.”

“Yes sir,” said Francesca. “Thank you.”

She handed him the handkerchief, which he pocketed, then she continued past him down the corridor. Descending to the bottom of the stairwell, she headed out into the Quad and walked across towards the headmaster’s flat. Soon she was standing in front of a door marked “Shop – open Mon-Sat, 1pm-4pm & 7:30pm-9pm”. She rang the bell, and waited.

The door opened, and there was Elsa Warden, the headmaster’s thirty-year-old “trophy wife”, or so the pupils liked to refer to her. She was blonde, blue-eyed, twenty years her husband’s junior, frequently sunbathed (in the summer term) in the skimpiest of bikinis in full view of the dorms and cubes on the east side of Denholm House, and at other times invariably wore extremely short, extremely tight skirts. Needless to say, she was very popular with the boys. She smiled warmly down at Francesca, over whom she towered by nine or ten inches, and leaned against the doorframe.

“Well hello Francesca!” she purred. “Do come in.” She stood aside to let Francesca enter, and then she closed the door. “What can I get for you today?” she asked, trotting past on four-inch stiletto heels. Francesca could not help noticing that Elsa’s bottom-hugging brown leather skirt was about an inch too short to cover her buttocks … which was pretty skimpy even for Elsa.

“I need three skirts,” said Francesca. “The ones I have are apparently too long.”

“So I see!” said Elsa. “Well I’m sure we can find you something suitable. You’re only a little thing, but there are plenty of second- and third-formers your size.”

“And,” said Francesca reluctantly, remembering Colin’s request, “I’d like them to be as short as possible.”

Elsa beamed delightedly. “Good for you!” she said. “Yes, let’s show off that pretty little bottom of yours. Why don’t you slip off that dreadfully long skirt you’ve got on, and we’ll try some skimpier ones on you.”

Francesca removed her skirt, sighing as she cast it aside. Elsa pulled a few tiny pink skirts off racks arranged along the far wall, and handed one of them to her. She stepped into it and pulled it up. It was very short, but it was a little wide around her waist, and therefore rode low on her hips, which meant that its hem covered her buttocks with half an inch to spare.

“Yes, that’s too big, isn’t it?” said Elsa, licking her lips.

Francesca nodded. “I’d like them to be at, or close to, the upper limit of acceptability – which I suppose would be two inches above the buttocks.” She pulled the skirt down and stepped out of it.

“Try this one,” said Elsa.

It looked tiny. Francesca tried pulling it up, but struggled to get it over her hips. When she finally got it into position, she could barely fasten it, and the pleats were stretched flat around her bottom. The hem was barely halfway down her buttocks.

“Too small!” said Elsa regretfully. “You’ll burst the stitching if you try to sit down in that.”

The next skirt Francesca tried on was a much better fit – snug but not too tight around the waist, and the pleats hung in folds as they should. The hem, when Elsa measured it, was almost exactly two inches above her buttocks. “Perfect!” she said. “Unfortunately that’s the last one I have in that size. Here, try this next.”

This one was a little tighter, and sat higher on Francesca’s hips. The pleats were a little stretched, but were still in folds. Elsa measured its length. “Three-and-a-half inches!” she said. “Well Francesca, it’s a little shorter than regulation, but I have to say, you look gorgeous in it. You have a beautiful bottom – I don’t imagine you’ll get into trouble for showing off half of it.”

“Are you sure?” asked Francesca dubiously. There was no doubt that Colin would get a big kick out of this skirt, but she had no desire to incur punishments because of it.

“Want me to check with my husband?” asked Elsa.

Francesca was not at all sure about this, but if she got the headmaster’s permission, that would at least give her immunity from punishment. “Okay,” she said.

Elsa whipped out her mobile phone, and punched a couple of buttons. “Hello darling – would you mind coming down to the shop for a second? I need your opinion on a skirt length. Thanks – see you in a sec!”

It was not long before the door opened and the headmaster, Mr Warden, walked in. He smiled at Francesca, then went over and kissed his wife. The kiss went on for rather a long time, making Francesca feel a little uncomfortable, but it was cut off when the fifty-year-old man reached up and squeezed Elsa’s breast, which made her giggle and pull away. “So what do you think of this skirt on Francesca? It’s a little shorter than regulation…”

“Hmm, let me see,” he said, crouching down on one knee and grinning at Francesca’s exposed panties. “Turn around Francesca – let’s see the back.”

Francesca nervously complied, and then stood still, waiting for the verdict.

“Well it’s a little shorter than regulation,” the headmaster admitted, “but it doesn’t look bad at all. In view of your quite lovely bottom, Francesca, I’m willing to permit you to wear this skirt.” He stood up again. “In fact, you could even go a little shorter than that if you wanted.”

“Okay!” said Elsa brightly. “Thanks darling.”

The headmaster left, and Elsa handed Francesca yet another skirt. Francesca’s eyes widened – this one was the shortest she had yet seen, being barely more than a little pleated frill topped by a waistband. When she had pulled it up into position, surprisingly it was a better fit than the previous skirt, but despite the fact that it sat at least an inch lower on her hips, it provided even less coverage.

Else measured it. “Oh my!” she said. “Four and a half inches! Practically your whole bottom is showing! Good thing it’s such a gorgeous bottom! Well, Roy did say that you could go a little shorter than the last one, so I’m sure it will still be okay.”

“Um, I think it’s a little too short though,” said Francesca, feeling terribly exposed. “Can I try another one?”

“Oh nonsense,” said Elsa breezily. “This one’s fine, Francesca. Didn’t you say you wanted to wear skirts ‘as short as possible’?”

“I did,” admitted Francesca, remembering Colin’s request again, and the fact that she had promised to do everything he wanted. “All right – I’ll take it.”

“Wonderful!” said Elsa, taking a deep breath, her breasts straining excitedly against the inside of her pale green blouse. “So that’s three skirts to put on your bill. I’ll keep the one you came in with, and if you bring me your other long skirts, I’ll trim them all and add them to the rack – and they’ll be credited to your bill, of course. Which of your new skirts would you like to wear back to Pankhurst?”

“The first one, please,” said Francesca. Offering the most coverage, it was easily her favourite of the three.

“Hmm,” said Elsa, picking it up. “You know, it suddenly seems rather long compared with the others. Wouldn’t you like to swap it for something shorter?”

Francesca sighed. Under the conditions of the dare, she realised she could not really refuse this suggestion. “All right,” she said sadly.

Elsa skipped over to the skirt rack again, and hunted through it for a moment. “Okay, try this,” she said. “It’s the same length as your other one, but it’ll be a little tighter around the waist.”

Francesca took off the ridiculously short skirt she was wearing, and tried on the new one. It was indeed rather tight, and sat higher around her hips, but the pleats hung well. She could tell that it was extremely short, and she bit her lip as Elsa measured it.

“Just over four inches!” said the headmaster’s wife. “I think that will do nicely.”

“Thanks,” said Francesca dolefully.

Elsa beamed. “Okay, well off you go – it’s been a pleasure serving you!”

Francesca thanked her, and left the shop carrying her other two skirts. She felt terribly exposed, and wondered if she would be the only girl in the school wearing skirts shorter than the regulation two inches. She was sure that some of the girls in her house, perhaps Bethan or Cindy, would try to push the envelope. She hoped so – she would hate to stick out like a sore thumb by being the only girl with several acres of her panties on display, front and back.

She returned to Pankhurst House, and hurried to the fifth-form dorm. Unlike the boys’ houses, in which only the third- and fourth-formers slept in dorms, the girls’ houses had no cubes or bedsits, and even the Upper Sixth girls had to sleep together in a dorm. The only concessions to privacy were seven two-person studies, to which only the Upper Sixth girls were entitled. These were not for sleeping in, however.

As she entered her dorm, several of the fifth-form girls were gathered around her friend Kirsty, who had also taken part in that terrible game of Dare. They were teasing Kirsty mercilessly on account of the fact that she was wearing only her bra and panties, both of which were filled with poo. Quickly, as a gesture of solidarity, Francesca stripped off her clothes and retrieved her own poo-filled bra and panties from one of her drawers. She put them on, grimacing as first her breasts, then her pussy and buttocks, sank into the cold but still squishy poo. It felt clammy as it moulded itself around her pussy and oozed between her labia.

Her actions had not gone unnoticed. “Haha, look who’s back!” exclaimed Denise Bradley, a cute but sharp-tongued brunette who was currently wearing nothing but a red tie-sided thong. “How was sex with Colin?”

Kirsty looked up anxiously, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Did you really do it?” she asked.

Francesca sighed. “Yes, I did it,” she said.

“Fuck me!” breathed little Angie Strothers in amazement. “And you’re really going to let him get you pregnant?”

“Who’s been talking?” demanded Francesca.

“Sorry,” said Kirsty apologetically.

“Well please, don’t let it go any further than this room!” said Francesca. “If the whole school knows about it, then pretty soon so will the teachers, and I’ll get expelled.”

This was a sobering thought, and the other girls nodded.

“Vow of secrecy?” suggested Anneke, the de facto dorm leader.

“I already told Tina and Millie,” said May Brackman. “Sorry.”

“Then after this, you can swear them to secrecy,” said Anneke. “Vow?”

All of the girls in the room cupped their left breast with their right hand, and intoned in unison, “I swear to carry this secret to my grave, unless released by the secret-keeper.”

“Who’s the secret-keeper?” asked Suzy Winters, a rather plump sixteen-year-old with untidy brown shoulder-length hair. “Fran?”

“Yup,” said Anneke. “Now May, and anyone else who has told anyone else, go and find them and swear them to secrecy.”

Looking rather sheepish, all of the girls in the room hurried out … including Anneke, leaving Kirsty alone with Francesca.

“Why didn’t we think of that?” asked Francesca with a sigh. “When it was just six of us?”

Kirsty shrugged. “We should visit Rachel and the others though. Jennie in particular might talk.”

Francesca nodded.

************************************

Francesca was relieved to finally get rid of the poo in her bra and panties, just before she went to bed, in accordance with her penultimate dare. She dumped the poo into the toilet in several stages, flushing it down bit by bit, and then she returned to her dorm, naked and with crusty poo sticking to her buttocks, pussy and breasts. She grabbed a towel and went off to have a shower before bed.

The next morning, she got dressed in a blouse and her longest skirt – the one that was just three-and-a-half inches short of covering her buttocks. She got teased a little, but as she had hoped, several of the other girls were pushing the minimum skirt length rule, so she did not feel quite as out of place as she had feared.

Rachel stopped her in a corridor after breakfast. “How did it go last night?” she asked, putting a concerned hand on Francesca’s shoulder.

The younger girl shrugged. “It was horrible,” she said. “And we even had an audience.” She shuddered.

“Oh wow, I’m sorry,” said Rachel sympathetically. “Well, keep your chin up, sweetie – maybe you’ll, I don’t know, get used to it after a while. And maybe you can get him to clean up his act.”

Francesca nodded. “I’ll try,” she said. “God, the boy doesn’t even know how to brush his teeth properly – if he does so at all.”

“Yuck!” said Rachel. “Kissing him must have been … awful!”

“Worse than the sex, actually,” admitted Francesca. “Well, perhaps not – but at least I didn’t have to taste his horrible tongue while he was fucking me. Although, the word ‘fucking’ is a bit of a stretch – he came as soon as he got inside me.”

Rachel snorted with laughter. “I suppose that’s to be expected. He’ll get better. Well, take care – I’ll see you later.”

Francesca met up with her friends Kirsty, Angie and Meg, and walked with them down to the main school. Kirsty was the only one of them whose skirt fully covered her buttocks: Angie’s hem was fully two inches above buttock level, and Meg’s was about half an inch longer than that.

Their first lesson of the day was Mathematics, for which subject Francesca was unfortunately in the same set as Colin. He grinned as he saw her, and pointed, gaping appreciatively, at her visible panties. “You look fantastic!” he said, bathing her face in a cloud of his foul-smelling breath. “Can we sit together?”

She hesitated, and his face fell, as if it was dawning on him that his relationship with her was a sham, a one-night stand never to be repeated. If only that were the case! But she smiled at him sadly. “Of course,” she said, and his face lit up again.

Only five minutes into the lesson, Francesca felt Colin’s hand on her thigh. Remembering that part of her forfeit was to take an active role in her relationship with Colin, rather than letting him take the lead all the time, she reached down, took hold of his hand, and slid it all the way up to her panties. Encouraged, Colin began stroking her pussy through the thin layer of white satin, until, despite her disgust at his touch, Francesca began to get a little aroused. But she pushed his hand away as the teacher approached, looking at Colin’s arm with suspicion.

By the time the teacher was able to look down at Francesca’s panties, Colin’s hand was nowhere near them, and the teacher moved on. “We can have sex in your cube during Break if you like,” whispered Francesca, and Colin nodded excitedly.

The second time was better than the first, if only because they had a much smaller audience – only Colin’s friend Gregor, who leaned in close to peer at Francesca’s vagina as Colin’s erection thrust in and out. At one point he reached out and squeezed Francesca’s right breast, causing Colin to slap his hand away.

“She’s mine, Gregor!” he grunted, before groaning as he ejaculated inside her.

“You should get her to shave,” said Gregor.

“She doesn’t need to shave, she’s a girl, you wanker,” said Colin.

“You daft bugger – I’m talking about her pussy, fuckwit.”

“Oh!” said Colin. “Actually that’s a good idea. Fran, would you mind shaving your pussy for me?”

“Of course I will,” said Fran obediently, “if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah!” said Gregor. “Now can you ask her to give me a blowjob?”

“No!” said Colin in annoyance, much to Francesca’s relief. “She’s mine! I shouldn’t even be letting you watch. In fact go on, get out of here.”

“All right, keep your hair on,” muttered Gregor. He stood up and shuffled out of Colin’s cube.

With his penis still buried in Francesca’s vagina, Colin kissed her on the lips, and they wrestled tongues while he resumed thrusting at a slow pace. Then he lifted his face away from hers. “I love you Francesca,” he said.

She smiled at him. “Thanks,” she replied. “That’s sweet.”

He looked puzzled. “I’ve been afraid to ask why you’ve become my girlfriend,” he said, “in case you change your mind. But … I don’t understand it… It feels like a dream, and I’m afraid I’m suddenly going to wake up.”

She reached up to pat his cheek, but thought better of it and patted his shoulder instead. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m not about to dump you. I’ll be your girlfriend for as long as you want me.”

“Wow!” said Colin. “But … what if I ask you to marry me?”

Francesca’s stomach cramped. Uh-oh, she thought. But she bravely smiled up at Colin, and said, “Do you want to marry me?”

She felt Colin’s penis growing inside her as it erected again. “Yes!” he said eagerly. “Oh my god, yes!”

“Then we’ll get married,” said Francesca simply.

Colin’s thrusting intensified. “When?” he asked, his eyes shining. “When can we get married?”

“I don’t know – perhaps once we leave school? After our A-levels?”

“Okay!” said Colin. “Wow! I can’t believe you’re going to be my wife! You’re not just teasing me, are you?” His thrusting slowed a little.

“I promise I’m not teasing,” she assured him. “I promise I’ll marry you.”

Colin beamed happily. A moment later, he came inside her again. “Oh man, I’m so happy!” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly. “Can we do this again after lunch maybe?”

“Of course,” said Francesca, stroking his greasy hair with a sense of revulsion. “We can have sex whenever you want.”

And so they had sex again after lunch, and a few hours later, after dinner, Francesca headed back down to the main school for more sex. But when she reached his cube, he looked oddly at her. After kissing her, he said, “I just heard that you and some of the other Pankhurst girls played a dare game with a toilet full of shit yesterday.”

Francesca’s heart sank. She had known it was only a matter of time before he found out about that game, but she had hoped that he would not connect it to her sudden interest in him. She sighed. “It was awful – I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Oh,” said Colin, disappointed. “Well I wish I’d seen you when you had your bra and panties full of shit. That would have been so sexy…”

“Sexy? Really?” asked Francesca, puzzled. “What’s sexy about it? It was disgusting!”

Colin shrugged. “I don’t know – I just think it would be really awesome to see you take a dump in your panties. Very … erotic.”

Francesca bit her lip. “If you’d like me to do that for you, of course I will,” she said. “Do you want me to do it now?”

His eyes lit up. “Yes please! I’d love that!”

Francesca groaned miserably … but only internally. Outwardly, she put on a brave smile. “Okay,” she said. She turned around, bent over slightly, and strained.

Colin quickly took a seat on his bed behind her, and leaned forward, staring eagerly at her panty-clad buttocks. “I love that you got yourself such a short skirt at the shop,” he said. “Are your other skirts this short?”

“Actually they’re even shorter!” gasped Francesca, as her anus opened up and the knobbly tip of a turd began to emerge. Fortunately she had peed just before coming to see Colin, so she did not wet herself too – that would have been too embarrassing.

“Wow!” said Colin. “Do you think you could maybe wear your shortest skirt tomorrow?”

“Sure!” she gasped, as, with a rush, several inches of poo slithered out of her anus and curled up in her panties. She strained again, and a second turd began to come out.

“Wow! Oh wow oh wow!” cried Colin, clapping his hands.

A couple of faces appeared over his cube door. “Good grief!” exclaimed Max, staring at the bulge growing in Francesca’s panties.

“Get lost!” shouted Colin.

But Max and the other boy, Lewis Gray, entered his cube and then sat down either side of Colin. They both tucked their noses inside their shirts. “Ugh, that’s disgusting,” said Lewis.

Francesca, who had straightened up and stopped pushing out her poo, turned towards them, her hands clasped in front of her panties. She felt terribly embarrassed, and was not sure what to say.

“Don’t mind us,” said Max. “I heard all about your little game yesterday – looks like you enjoyed having shit in your knickers, eh?”

“No, I didn’t!” said Francesca. “I’m just doing this because Colin asked me to.”

“Guys, just leave us alone,” said Colin plaintively.

“And miss the show? Not likely,” said Max.

Colin scowled, then he put one finger against his right nostril, turned towards Max, raised his chin, and blew hard. A chunk of mucus fired out of his left nostril and landed on Max’s cheek.

“You fucking wanker!” said Max, jumping to his feet and fishing in his pocket for a handkerchief, which he did not find. He ran to the door and flung himself through it.

Colin, now sealing his left nostril, turned towards Lewis, who got up hastily and retreated to the door. “You’re a filthy piece of shit, Colin,” he said. “No wonder you want Fran to shit herself – you want some company you can relate to.” He backed out and closed the door.

“Whew!” said Colin, grinning.

“Well done,” said Francesca, who was both relieved to see the two boys go, and disgusted by Colin’s method of evicting them. “Shall I continue?”

“Yes! Yes please,” said Colin.

Francesca turned around again, and pushed. A few more inches of poo oozed out of her anus, and Colin reached out to cup her bulge as it began to grow again. “This is fantastic,” he breathed. “Thank you so much for doing this, Fran.”

She finished her poo, and straightened up. “You’re welcome,” she said. “Shall I go and dump it out now, so that we can have sex?”

“Well,” said Colin hesitantly, “it would be nice if you could keep it in your panties for a while – do you think we could have sex anyway, and just work around the poo?”

“I suppose so,” said Francesca reluctantly. She unbuttoned and removed her blouse, bra, skirt, shoes, and socks, and carefully lay down on Colin’s bed on her back, wearing just her panties.

Colin excitedly pulled down his trousers and Y-fronts, and then he spread Francesca’s legs wide apart, and pulled aside the gusset of her panties. He stared in awe at the large mass of her poo, nestling against her buttocks. “Can I … smear it on your pussy?” he asked. “We could use it as a lubricant.”

Francesca grimaced in disgust. “Ugh, Colin, really?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, hanging his head.

Francesca gulped silently. “No, no, it’s okay,” she said. “If you want to smear the poo around, go ahead.”

Colin reached into the back of her panties, and pulled out a large chunk of poo. He squished it against her labia, and began rubbing it all over her pussy. “Wow, this is so cool!” he whispered excitedly. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this – thank you so much!”

Francesca wanted to throw up, but she clenched her stomach and gritted her teeth while she felt Colin’s fingers working her poo into every crevice of her pussy. Then, because she guessed that it was coming anyway, and wanted to seem proactive, she forced herself to say, “If you want to put some of it inside me, that’s okay too.”

“Really?” asked Colin, wide-eyed. “Wow!” He quickly began to push pieces of poo against her vaginal opening, grinning as they slid inside. He pushed more and more pieces into her cunt, and Francesca tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the sensation of the thick rod of poo growing inside her, sliding deeper with each new added chunk, until it squished up against her cervix. And still he was trying to cram more poo inside her. It began to compress within her, spreading outwards to expand her vagina, moulding itself around her cervix.

“Does this mean you don’t want to have sex with me?” asked Francesca, surprised to find herself feeling a little hurt by this thought.

“No!” said Colin, and he lay down on top of her, pressing his erection against the poo filling her vagina. He sank into it, poo splurging out of her around his shaft, and he fucked her for almost half a minute before groaning as he climaxed. She held him as he lay panting on top of her.

He said nothing for a while, but then he asked, “Is it true that your friend Kirsty has to wear nothing but her bra and panties, filled with shit, whenever she’s in Pankhurst House?”

“Just until the end of this term,” said Francesca, “but yes.”

“That’s brilliant!” said Colin. “Can I come and see you in your house sometime?”

“You can come and see me in Pankhurst whenever you like,” said Francesca, a little annoyed. “But would you be coming to see me or Kirsty?”

“You, of course!” said Colin. “But … well, I’m sort of curious to see what Kirsty looks like … you know…”

Francesca sighed. “I suppose that’s understandable,” she said. “You know that new girl Jade – lower sixth, huge boobs – she has to stay in her poopy underwear not only until the end of this term, but until the end of next summer term.”

“Wow!” said Colin, impressed. “Only in Pankhurst House, though, presumably?”

“Right,” said Francesca.

Colin grinned. “You know, it would be kind of cool if you did that too…”

Francesca paled. “What do you mean?”

“Well – you know – take a dump only in your panties from now on, and keep your panties and bra full of poo while you’re in Pankhurst House. Would you be willing to do that?”

Francesca would rather have wrenched her fingernails off with pliers, but she merely put on her best smile and said, “If you would like me to do that, then of course I’ll do it for you.”

“Excellent!” said Colin, thrilled. “Wow, you’re such a great girlfriend!”

“Thank you,” said Francesca. “I’m doing my best. Now perhaps I should go back to Pankhurst House, clean up, and shave for you…”

“Ooh yes!” said Colin. “Yes, you go and do that. But remember to leave this poo in your panties!”

“Okay – but when should I empty out the old poo? Next time I defecate?”

“Sure,” said Colin. “That would be fine. No, wait – actually I’d rather you keep the old poo in your panties, and just keep pooping on top of it, until your panties actually overflow. When they’re overflowing, then you can take out just enough of the oldest poo to prevent your panties from overflowing.”

“Okay,” said Francesca with a little sigh. “What about my bra?”

“Hmm,” said Colin, thinking hard. Then he brightened. “How about you let me do all my dumps into your bra?”

This sounded absolutely horrible, but Francesca just said, “Okay.”

Colin pulled his poo-covered penis out of her vagina, and spent a moment packing more shit inside her. Then he pulled her panties back across her pussy. “All right,” he said, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning then?”

Francesca sat up and began pulling the rest of her clothes on. “Sure,” she said. “I’ll look forward to it.” Not, she thought. But she gave him a long, deep and passionate kiss, ignoring the truly colossal yellow-headed zit just to the left of his upper lip. She prayed that it would not burst during the kiss, and spray pus on to her cheek, or worse, into her mouth. Fortunately it did not.

Unfortunately her messy panties were impossible to conceal beneath her tiny skirt, and she attracted many jeers and taunts as she made her way back outside. She was in tears as she ran back up the road to Pankhurst House, the poo in her panties bouncing around and slapping against her buttocks with each step.

Kirsty was delighted to discover that she would not be the only girl in the fifth form dorm who had to stay in poopy underwear while at Pankhurst, but she nevertheless managed to muster up some sympathy for Francesca’s predicament. “Maybe we’ll get used to it,” she said optimistically.

Francesca showered, and washed out her vagina as well as she could. Simply squeezing her vaginal walls seemed to expel most of it, and she managed to get the shower head to fire warm water up inside her to flush out the rest. Then she shaved, removing all of her pubic hair for the first time ever. She knew she should not care whether Colin would be pleased by the result or not, but she hoped he would be anyway.

But after her shower, she had to put her messy panties back on, complete with the lemon-sized chunk of poo that remained of her earlier defecation. She climbed into bed, and tried to ignore the feel of its sticky warm touch against her buttocks as she attempted to get to sleep. Eventually she drifted off.

The following morning she cleaned herself up, put on a fresh pair of panties, and reluctantly donned her shortest skirt. It showed off a ridiculous amount of her panties – about three inches at the front, and almost five at the back. Tugging it down did not help at all – the waistband quickly settled back into its original position.

In the first lesson that she shared with Colin, they sat together again, and almost immediately he started stroking her pussy through her panties. After only a few seconds of this, however, she took his hand, pulled the front of her panties open, and guided his hand inside, spreading her legs slightly so that he could feel her up more effectively.

“You shaved!” he whispered excitedly. “Thank you!”

They had sex again at break, after lunch, and after dinner. But during their evening fuck Colin seemed distracted, and took a long time to come. “Something wrong?” asked Francesca.

Colin looked slightly unhappy. “Fran,” he said, “are you just with me because your friends dared you to become my girlfriend?”

Francesca sighed. She had been afraid of this. “Not really, Colin,” she said, “but you’re not far from the truth. The dares in our game just kept getting worse, until finally I was dared to do something so awful that I couldn’t bear to do it. So I chose the forfeit instead.”

Colin’s brow furrowed. “And what was the forfeit?”

“To become your girlfriend,” said Francesca.

“Ohhh,” said Colin, the light dawning. “So … you don’t really love me, or anything…”

Francesca sighed. “No, Colin, I really don’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know if I could ever love you. But I made my decision, and I have to follow it through. So I’ll continue to be your girlfriend…”

“You said you’d marry me,” Colin interrupted her. “Was that part of the forfeit too?”

Francesca nodded. “And have your babies. I’m prepared to do it all.”

Colin looked a little sad. “Do you … do you think you could maybe try to love me … even just a little?”

“I’ll try,” said Francesca sympathetically. “But if I can’t, will you still want to be with me?”

Colin snorted. “Are you crazy? You’re one of the prettiest girls in the school – I’d be insane to ever dump you!”

Francesca sighed. “Yes, well, then I guess we’ll be getting married, then.”

Colin’s eyes narrowed. “Oh I see – you want me to dump you so that you’ll be free, and you won’t have to be my girlfriend any more.”

He had hit the nail on the head, and Francesca immediately felt guilty. But she had already thought through this. “Actually,” she said, “it wouldn’t do me any good for you to dump me. That wasn’t offered as a way out. If you dump me, I’ll just have to try to win you back.”

“Oh!” said Colin. “Hmm, well, even so, I can’t imagine ever wanting to dump you. But I wish you could grow to love me…”

“Maybe I will,” said Francesca. “Anything’s possible. But perhaps you could help me, by making yourself a little bit more … lovable…?”

“Like how?” asked Colin suspiciously.

“Well, there’s the issue of your breath, for starters,” said Francesca. “I’d like to teach you the basics of oral hygiene, if you’re willing to learn.”

“I suppose that would be okay,” said Colin. “Do you think you could do something about my zits too?”

“I’m sure I can,” said Francesca, smiling.

************************************

Five weeks later, Francesca was very late for her period, so she went to the school matron for a pregnancy test. It was positive, and a few days later, when she took another one, that was positive too. She broke the news first to Kirsty, who hugged her. “Wow, so this is really happening!” she said.

Francesca nodded unhappily. “My parents will kill me,” she said.

“Well, I’d wait until the holidays to tell them,” said Kirsty.

But as it happened, the news reached Mr and Mrs Collins before the day was even out. Her mobile phone rang while she was lying on her bed with her bra and panties bulging hugely with poo. She answered it, and her heart sank as she heard her father’s voice.

“I just had a phone call from your headmaster – he says you’re pregnant!”

A cold sweat broke out on Francesca’s brow. “I can’t believe … Matron must have told him!” she exclaimed, shocked.

“Who told him is not relevant! Is it true?”

“Well – yes. I’m sorry Dad! It just sort of … happened.”

“I expected better of Matthew – I can’t believe you were both so careless! And you’re underage – I should have him arrested for statutory rape!”

“Dad … it’s not Matthew’s…”

“What? What do you mean? Whose is it? Just how many boys have you been sleeping with?”

“Matthew and I broke up – I have a new boyfriend now. His name’s Colin Grossman.”

“Well he doesn’t sound like a very responsible boy! What does his father do?”

“Um … he’s a cleaner, here at school.”

“You got knocked up by the janitor’s son?? But … but…” For a while Liam Collins could get nothing out but incoherent splutters. Eventually he said, “But WHY?”

Tears rolled down Francesca’s cheeks. “I … I don’t know,” she said.

“Good GOD, Fran! Whatever am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know,” repeated Francesca miserably.

“Well listen, here’s what we’re going to do. Exeat is on Saturday – I’ll have Aunt Maddie pick you up and take you straight to a clinic, where you’ll get this little problem taken care of. In the meantime I’ll try to persuade Dr Warden not to expel you. I’ll tell him it was just an error of judgment, never again to be repeated.”

“But … Dad … I don’t want an abortion,” said Francesca … though she really, really did! “I’m going to keep it.”

“What? But WHY?”

“Because … because I love Colin, and I want to have his baby.” It hurt like hell to say this, and as soon as she had got the words out, she pressed her face into her pillow and sobbed.

“No daughter of mine is going to have a baby at the age of sixteen! I won’t allow it!”

Francesca pulled her face out of her pillow long enough to say, “You can’t force me to have an abortion, Dad! It’s my choice.”

“Oh really? Well, if that’s how you feel, then you can damn well go and marry Colin, and stay the hell in England!”

“Fine! I will!” she sobbed.

“Damn it!”

The line went dead, and Francesca was left feeling miserable and alone. Fortunately at that moment Colin came in. She looked up at him with tear-streaked cheeks, but he did not notice, being too busy grinning at the mound of poo piled on her bottom and held in place by her panties. Eventually he looked up at her face, and his grin disappeared. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I … I’m pregnant,” she said.

“What? Oh my God!” exclaimed Colin. “Already?”

She nodded. “And I’m going to keep it, Colin. I’m going to have your baby.”

He stared at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Colin, this could get us both expelled…”

“Oh no!” exclaimed Colin. “But you can’t get expelled – you live in the States! I’d never get to see you again!”

“I’m not sure that will be much of an issue,” said Francesca bitterly. “It sounds like my Dad wouldn’t want me back anyway.”

“Then…” Colin’s expression grew hopeful. “Maybe you could live with me…?”

“At your dad’s house?” asked Francesca. “Here in the school grounds? I’m not sure that would work…”

“Then … I’ll get a job!” said Colin bravely. “I’ll get a job in the city, and find us a place to live, and you can move in with me … and we’ll be a family…”

He sounded so enthused about the prospect that Francesca smiled. “Well, we haven’t been expelled yet. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

************************************

The next day they were both summoned before the headmaster. Dr Warden looked them both up and down for a minute (Francesca far more than Colin, if truth be told), and then he cleared his throat.

“I am told that you have both been having unprotected sex every day since the start of this term – and have been quite brazen about it!” he said.

Francesca hung her head, but said nothing. Colin, however, was grinning proudly.

“You know it’s against the school rules to have sex!” said Dr Warden sternly. “Yet you have repeated flouted the rules, and now look what’s happened! A pregnancy! Which, I’m told, you intend to keep, Francesca!”

Still Francesca said nothing.

“Well we can’t have a baby here at school,” said Dr Warden. “If you are determined to keep it, Francesca, I’ll have no choice but to expel you.”

“What about me?” asked Colin.

“I will be sad to see Francesca leave us,” said the headmaster. “I cannot say the same of you, Colin. Yes, you are very definitely expelled.”

“Can we live at my dad’s place?” asked Colin.

“I can’t stop you,” said Dr Warden with a frown. “Just stay the heck away from the school buildings and the pupils.”

They left his office, and that was that.

************************************

Francesca’s friends were all horrified to discover that she had been expelled, and they commiserated with her while they could. Rachel, Jade, Jennie, Kirsty and Bethan were especially upset, all feeling to varying degrees responsible for her expulsion. But there was little time for discussion on the matter – Francesca had to pack all her clothes and other belongings into her trunk and bags, and soon she was carrying them out to the car park. Her friends all kissed and hugged her goodbye, and then Colin’s father arrived to pick her up.

Rod Grossman was only too pleased to welcome Francesca into his home. He was like a shorter, older, slightly less ugly version of Colin, and he could not take his eyes off Francesca’s breasts as he helped her carry her things into his house. Fortunately she had changed into her jeans, otherwise he would no doubt also be ogling her panties.

“Well well,” he said, rubbing his hands together with glee. “Welcome, Francesca. So I suppose I’m to be your father-in-law, eh? Well well, how lovely… So have you thought about when you would like to get married?”

“As soon as possible!” said Colin, coming down the stairs and grinning at Francesca.

“Um, well, we haven’t really set a date,” said Francesca.

“Well I think ‘as soon as possible’ is a pretty good idea,” said Rod. “No point in waiting until your pregnancy is too far advanced. When do you turn sixteen, Francesca?”

“The nineteenth of July,” said Francesca.

Rod consulted a calendar. “Let’s see – ooh, how convenient – that’s a Saturday. Why don’t we set the wedding for then?”

Francesca felt a cold sweat break out on her brow at the thought of getting married so young. “Um, don’t I have to get my parents’ consent?” she asked.

“Yes – do you think that will be a problem?” asked Rod.

Probably, Francesca thought to herself, and not without a certain sense of relief. “I’ll ask them,” she said.

But to her disappointment, her parents were all in favour of her getting married sooner rather than later – they did not want to come to the wedding, but they approved in principle of her getting married before her baby arrived, so that at least the baby would not be born ‘out of wedlock’. As she put down her phone, she looked up at the expectant faces of Colin and Rod. “They’re all for it,” she said. “They said to just send them whatever form they need to sign, and they’ll sign it.”

“Great!” said Rod. “I’ll arrange everything for the nineteenth of July, then. That’s only six weeks away, but it should be plenty enough time. Meanwhile, obviously you can both live here, and I’ll see about finding Colin a job.” He left the room, humming tunelessly to himself.

“You’re wearing jeans,” said Colin.

“I know,” said Francesca. “Sorry. I don’t have any microskirts, though, except for my school ones. And I can hardly wear those, now, can I?”

“True,” said Colin, “but I still don’t want you covering your panties. Do you have any skirts or dresses that we could cut down to that size?”

“Yes – a few,” said Francesca, feeling rather queasy at the thought of exposing her panties to Rod’s lecherous gaze on a permanent basis. “And I can sew pretty well – would you like me to go ahead and trim them all?”

“Yes please,” said Colin. “Make them all at least as short as your school skirts.”

Francesca suppressed the urge to sigh. “All right,” she said. “I’ll do that.”

“In the meantime,” said Colin, “just stick to a t-shirt and panties around the house.”

“Aren’t you afraid your dad will start lusting after me?” ventured Francesca.

Colin laughed. “I hope he does! I’m so proud of having such an amazing girlfriend – fiancée, I mean – and I want my dad to see how sexy you are. So I’d like you to show him your panties, and, you know, just be sexy around him.”

“Okay,” said Francesca as she unzipped and pulled down her jeans. “What about pooping?”

“Hmm,” said Colin. “I’m not sure. He might not like that – I don’t know. Try having an ‘accident’ in front of him, and see what his reaction is. Ask him if you can keep it in your panties, and see what he says.”

Francesca nodded. “All right Colin – I’ll do that.” She took off her shoes, jeans, and socks. “How do I look?”

“Like an angel,” said Colin, grinning. “A very sexy angel!”

She smiled, and kissed him.

When Rod returned, he stared delightedly at Francesca’s panties. “My what a lovely outfit!” he said, grinning appreciatively.

Colin chuckled, and winked at Francesca.

Rod took them both out to eat at the local Chinese restaurant – although ‘local’ was a relative term, meaning in this case twelve miles away. Francesca had not had time to shorten any of her skirts, so she wore her shortest, which came halfway down her thighs. She was glad of the coverage, and savoured the experience – she had a feeling that she would not be wearing anything quite so decent again for a long time. Perhaps not until the wedding.

That night they slept in separate beds, at Rod’s insistence. “You’re not married yet!” he said. “After the wedding, I’ll let you have my double bed, at least until we get you settled in a place of your own.”

So after a marathon, two-minute sex session, Colin went back to his own room, leaving Francesca alone in the spare bedroom. She drifted off to sleep, and dreamed of being a princess imprisoned in a lonely castle and forced to marry a hideous ogre. She dreamed that the ogre carried her away after the wedding, laid her down on a bed, and began to explore her body with his gnarly hands, squeezing her breasts, stroking her pussy, sliding warty fingers into her vagina…

She gradually awoke. Fingers were indeed sliding in and out of her vagina, and she could feel a hand on her left breast, kneading and caressing it. “Mmmm, hi Colin,” she whispered sleepily, and she parted her legs for him. But to her surprise, the fingers were pulled out of her, and the hand on her breast was removed. She heard faint footsteps retreating towards the door. What was Colin playing at?

But she was too tired to speculate, and soon went back to sleep. The next morning, she was awoken by Colin jumping on top of her and pulling her panties down. “Morning lover,” she murmured, spreading her legs for him.

He entered her, and began thrusting. “Morning,” he muttered.

His breath had improved greatly as a result of his new dental hygiene regimen, and thanks to more frequent showering, his overall smell was much more tolerable. Even his acne had improved a little. Francesca was therefore much more comfortable with kissing him now, and she did so frequently. She particularly liked to be kissed while being fucked, and so she wrestled tongues with him for a minute, until he climaxed inside her.

“So what was up with you last night?” she asked him, stroking his hair as he lay panting on top of her. “Sneaking in here and groping me in my sleep, then running off as soon as I woke up?”

Colin lifted his head, and stared down at her in surprise. “I didn’t do that,” he said.

Her eyes widened at the implication. “Oh my God – you think that was your dad?”

Colin chuckled. “Must have been. Haha – I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you!”

Francesca felt violated … and indignant at Colin’s reaction. “Aren’t you angry with him?” she demanded.

“Nah, not really,” he said, grinning. “He’s my dad, not some arsehole from school. And he’s a lonely old man – he hasn’t had a girlfriend in more than ten years. It’s understandable that he can’t resist you – I know how he feels!”

“So what are you saying?” asked Francesca, perplexed. “That you want me to just let him feel me up, if he tries it again?”

Colin shrugged. “I don’t see the harm in it,” he said. “Yeah – why don’t you do that? Don’t let him have sex with you, but if he’s just using his hands, let him have his fun. He’s being very generous by letting us live here, after all.”

Francesca was highly uncomfortable with this idea, but she nodded. “If that’s what you want,” she said in a small voice.

Rod had already gone to work, so Colin and Francesca breakfasted alone. Afterwards, Francesca began working on her skirts and dresses, shortening them so that they revealed at least three-and-a-half inches of her panties at the back. By the time Rod returned home for lunch, she had done half of them, and she modelled them for both Colin and Rod.

“Beautiful! Just beautiful!” said Rod, clapping his hands at a green sundress that she had shortened even more drastically than any of the others. At the front, the hem was on the same level as the top of her low-rise white panties.

“Great job!” said Colin. “You look fantastic.”

“So – if I’m going to be wearing skirts and dresses from now on, what shall I do with all my shorts and jeans?” asked Francesca.

“Could you take them to Oxfam for us, Dad?” asked Colin.

“Certainly!” said Rod. “So – am I to understand that your panties are now going to be on display permanently, Fran?”

Francesca nodded, with a slightly unhappy smile. “Yes, that’s what Colin wants, and I want to make him happy.”

“Excellent, excellent!” said Rod, grinning broadly. “Well I’m glad to see that Colin has found himself such a beautiful and devoted fiancée. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

Once he had left, Colin and Francesca had sex again, and then Colin got back to his computer games while Francesca worked on more skirts and dresses. By the time Rod returned at six o’clock, she had finished them all. But she was unprepared for Rod’s first words after he had entered the house.

“Is dinner ready?” he asked, looking directly at Francesca.

“Um, no,” she said, confused. “Were you expecting me to cook?”

“Well of course!” he said. “Colin’s a terrible cook – did you expect him to do it? Or perhaps you expected me to cook, despite the fact that I’ve been working all day while you’ve been sitting around here?”

“Steady on, Dad,” said Colin, annoyed. “She’s been hard at work shortening her skirts and dresses.”

“Well she didn’t need to do them all at once, did she?” said Rod. “It’s not like she’s going to wear them all tomorrow. She should have paced herself, and then she’d have had time to cook.”

“But Dad, you never actually told her you expected her to cook…”

“She should have thought about it! Colin, mark my words, you need to get the rules straight early on in your relationship. Soon you’ll be working all day, too, and when you get home, you’ll want to see your dinner on the table waiting for you.”

“Well Dad, that’s a little old-fashioned…” said Colin weakly.

“Old-fashioned or not,” said Rod firmly, “you need to get things straight from the beginning. If your dinner isn’t on the table, you need to put her over your knee and give her a good spanking.”

Francesca’s jaw had already dropped, and was dropping further with each new horribly misogynistic sentence that came out of Rod’s mouth. She looked at Colin, hoping he would defend her some more, but he merely looked rather sheepish. “How do you feel about being spanked?” he asked her.

“Colin!” she exclaimed, shocked. “How do you think…” But then it suddenly occurred to her that some couples indulged in spanking as foreplay – she had heard this from Kirsty – and Colin might very well get a kick out of spanking her. She was sure he would not spank her very hard – it might even be fun…

She hung her head. “If you think I deserve a spanking, then you should go ahead,” she said.

“Wow! Cool!” said Colin, rather spoiling the fantasy. But as he sat down on the sofa, she dutifully lay on her front across his lap, her short yellow dress hardly overlapping her panties. He pulled the dress way up her torso, however, and then put his hand on her bottom.

“You should pull her panties down first,” said Rod eagerly, coming over and bending down to stare at Francesca’s bottom.

Colin took hold of her panties, and tugged them halfway down her thighs. He lightly slapped one of her buttocks, and then slipped his hand between them, running two fingers over her anus and down to her vaginal opening.

“That wasn’t nearly hard enough!” said Rod. He pulled Colin’s hand away from Francesca’s bottom. “Here, like this.” Then he brought his hand down hard on her left buttock, making her squeal.

“Careful Dad!” said Colin, alarmed. “Are you okay, darling?”

“Yes!” she gasped. In truth, while it had shocked her, the pain was now wearing off, leaving a tingling glow that was not entirely unpleasant…

“Okay then…” Colin raised his own hand, and brought it down sharply on her right buttock, causing her to squeal again. He began to alternate between her buttocks, smacking them in turn until they became quite red. Each time he spanked her, she squealed again, and wiggled her hips slightly on his lap.

Francesca was surprised to discover that she was rather enjoying herself. Her vagina was lubricating like mad, and her entire bottom was bathed in a warm glow. Amazingly, she found herself actually wanting Colin to flip her over, spread her legs, and fuck her for all he was worth. But she could not bear to let him, or Rod, know that she had enjoyed being spanked.

Colin let her get up, and she quickly pulled up her panties. “I’m sorry I didn’t have dinner ready,” she said in a small voice, staring at her toes. Deep down she thought it outrageous that she should be expected to make dinner for Colin and his dad, just because she was female. And it was even more outrageous that she should be physically punished for such a transgression. But she also badly wanted to be spanked again in future, and so she wanted Colin to feel justified in having done so this time.

She went into the kitchen to make dinner, but as it happened, Rod helped a great deal. He certainly found a lot of excuses to walk past her, his hand brushing her buttocks each time he did so. Eventually they sat down to eat, and discussed wedding plans. Francesca had decided to ask Kirsty and Angie to be her bridesmaids, and Colin, it turned out, had already asked Gregor to be his best man. Francesca had assumed that the wedding would be a quiet event in a registry office, but Rod was adamant that they should get married in a church. “It’s just not the same if it’s not in a church,” he said. “Besides, I’m friendly with the local vicar, and I happen to know that he’ll be perfectly okay with the type of wedding dress that I’m sure you’ll be wearing, Fran.” He winked at her.

“What do you mean?” asked Francesca. “Oh – you want me to wear a very short wedding dress, Colin?”

“Ooh yes!” said Colin. “Short enough to show your panties, definitely.”

“Oh dear!” fretted Francesca. “But my relatives will be there! Some of them, anyway.”

“Then they’ll see you looking beautiful and sexy,” said Rod. “Is that so bad?”

“I suppose not,” said Francesca meekly.

That evening, after coming inside his fiancée, Colin returned to his own bedroom and soon fell asleep. Francesca, remaining naked (per Colin’s wishes), drifted off soon afterwards, but she was awakened, once again, by fingers sliding into her vagina. She suppressed the urge to shudder, knowing that it was almost certainly Rod who was feeling her up. Instead, in deference to Colin’s request, she let Rod slide two of his fingers deep inside her, without betraying any sign that she was awake and aware of what he was doing.

She guessed that he must have been here a while, since he had already spread her legs wide and pushed her knees up either side of her chest. She was a fairly heavy sleeper, but even so, this should have woken her up. He must have moved her very slowly indeed to get her into this position without disturbing her slumber. The fingering, however, could not be slept through.

She tried to ignore the fingering and go back to sleep, but this proved impossible. Her vagina was getting wetter and wetter with each inward thrust of Rod’s fingers – a purely physiological reaction, since on the whole she was feeling disgust rather than arousal at his touch. It suddenly occurred to her that he was actually on the bed with her, since her feet were resting on something that she now realised must be his bare, hairy thighs. He was kneeling in front of her pelvis, with his knees spread well apart.

One of his hands slid up her belly and grasped her right breast, squeezing and kneading it gently. The other continued to finger-fuck her, with increasing speed and energy. Francesca wondered if she should pretend to wake up – surely Rod did not believe that anybody could sleep through this!

She had just about made up her mind to stir and say Colin’s name, when the fingers were withdrawn. She wondered if perhaps Rod had had enough, and would leave her alone now. But then something pressed against her vaginal opening, and slowly began to slide inside. For a moment she thought he was sliding a couple of fingers back into her, but this was too different a sensation. With a stab of horror, she realised that he was sliding his penis into her!

And it was definitely not Colin’s – it was too wide, and when it sank into her all the way to her cervix, she knew that it had to be longer than Colin’s too. She shrieked and tried to pull herself off Rod’s penis, but he was lying on top of her now, pinning her down. He started to thrust energetically inside her.

“Rod, get off me!” she cried, thrashing about and kicking her legs uselessly either side of him. She tried to push against his shoulders, but he was too strong for her.

“Hush!” whispered Rod urgently. “You’ll wake Colin!”

“I don’t care! You’re raping me!” squeaked Francesca, still trying to fight him off.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist you!” said Rod. “Just try to relax – I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Relax?” she exclaimed. “Rod, this isn’t just statutory rape – it’s real actual rape! You could go to prison for a long time for this!”

Rod shuddered as he spurted his semen into her. “Oh god!” he groaned. “Oh god oh god … that felt so good!”

“Fucking hell!” she exclaimed, feeling horribly violated, and just plain angry. “Get off me, you rapist!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” said Rod, pulling his dripping penis out of her vagina, and climbing off her. “Just … don’t call the police just yet. Wait until morning – sleep on it, and see how you feel when you wake up.”

“Get out!” she yelled.

Rod hurried out of the room, and Francesca stretched out her legs, pulling the duvet tightly around herself. She felt angry, and hurt, and humiliated, and all the thoughts of what she wanted to do about it raced around her head like enraged bees for the next two hours, keeping her very much awake and on high alert.

But eventually the sheer effort of thinking about these things inevitably exhausted her, and she fell into a doze, from which she descended into a deep sleep. Her fists, which had been clenching and unclenching spasmodically by her sides ever since Rod had left her room, finally relaxed and uncurled.

She was awakened by a kiss from Colin, but she did not respond. The memory of her rape flooded back immediately, and she pushed her fiancé away. Sitting up, she turned towards him. “Your dad raped me last night!” she said.

Colin’s jaw dropped. “No way!”

“He did! I was letting him feel me up, like you wanted me to, and then suddenly he actually stuck his dick in me, and he held me down and raped me until he came inside me!”

Colin stared at her. Then he said, “Well, what do you think we should do?”

“I don’t know – call the police??”

“But they’ll put Dad in prison!” said Colin. “I’m pissed off with him, but I don’t want him to go to prison!”

“Well I do!” exclaimed Francesca hotly.

“Please don’t call the police,” pleaded Colin. “Dad’s letting us live here, he’s finding me a job, he’s paying for our wedding … without him, we’ll have nothing!”

Francesca scowled at him. “Well what do you suggest, then? We just let him get away with it?”

“Well no, of course not,” said Colin. “But perhaps we could just, I don’t know, give him a good telling-off. Tell him not to do it again.”

“That’s it?” Francesca said incredulously. “Tell him off? He rapes me, and his only punishment is a ‘that was naughty, Dad, don’t do it again’?”

“Look, as soon as we get our own place, and I have a job, you won’t have to see my Dad again. In the meantime, we’ve still got to live with him, so let’s try not to live together as enemies, okay?”

Francesca sighed. “Fine – go and tell him off then.”

Colin nodded, and turned toward the door. Francesca threw the covers off and quickly pulled on her panties. “I’ll come with you,” she said. Colin waited while she donned a t-shirt, and then the two of them went in search of Rod.

He was in the kitchen, eating a piece of toast. “Good morning!” he said.

“Now look here!” said Colin sternly. “What’s all this about you raping Francesca last night?”

“Yes, sorry about that,” said Rod. “I just couldn’t help myself! The thought of Francesca lying in bed, alone, all shapely and sexy and naked … I just couldn’t resist!”

“But Dad!” exclaimed Colin. “She’s my fiancée! Your son’s fiancée! How could you?”

“Well you have to admit she’s a very sexy young woman,” said Rod. “And for me it’s been … well, a very long time…”

“But … you can’t just rape her!”

Rod’s expression grew thoughtful. “I’m not sure it was technically rape,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about it, and can you honestly say, Fran, that you only woke up when I started having sex with you? I sort of got the idea that you might have been awake already…”

Francesca looked helplessly at Colin. “Well,” she said, “Colin suggested I let you fondle me a bit … in view of the length of time it’s been since you had a girlfriend…”

“Oh!” said Rod. “I see. That’s very nice of you both, but don’t you think that in that case you encouraged me to rape you? In which case, you’re the criminals for inciting rape.”

Francesca and Colin stared at Rod in astonishment.

“In fact,” said Rod, “it’s not really Colin’s fault – he just made the suggestion. It was you, Fran, that actually encouraged me to rape you, by not objecting to me fondling you. So if anyone’s to blame here, it’s Fran. Colin, I think perhaps another spanking is in order.”

Francesca was speechless with indignation – the nerve of the man, to turn this around and actually blame her for her own rape! Yet she could not help feeling a shiver of excitement at the thought of another spanking – and the fact that it was to punish her for, of all things, being raped, somehow made it even sexier. The injustice of it all rankled enormously … yet it was also turning her on…

She turned to Colin and waited to see what his reaction to this would be. The ball was in his court, now – part of her hoped that he would strongly object to Rod’s line of reasoning and defend her honour; the other part hoped he would side with his father. She bit her lip anxiously.

Colin pulled out a chair and sat down. “Dad’s right,” he said. “Fran, take off your panties, and get yourself over my knee.”

Francesca’s vagina began to lubricate with excitement. Aware that Rod was watching her eagerly, she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties, and tugged them down, exposing her shaved pussy to both Colin and Rod. She let her panties fall to her ankles, stepped out of them, and then lay down across Colin’s lap. The blood rushed to her head as her upper body dipped towards the floor.

Colin pulled her t-shirt up to her waist, and then he slapped her left buttock sharply, eliciting a squeal. “How many spanks do you think she should get for encouraging you to rape her, Dad?” he asked.

“You’re her fiancé,” said Rod with a shrug. “You decide.”

“Okay – well I think fifty would be appropriate.”

“Fifty!?” exclaimed Francesca.

“I agree – that sounds like a good number,” said Rod.

Colin spanked her again, and again, and again. Soon her buttocks were bright red, but Francesca was loving it – her entire loins were on fire and she kept hoping that Colin would slip a couple of fingers inside her between each spank. But he did not, although each time he spanked her left buttock, which was nearer to him, the tips of his fingers would curl around and slip slightly between her buttocks, which began to drive her crazy with sexual frustration.

Once Colin had counted the fiftieth spank, Francesca slipped off his lap, and turned to face him on her knees. She reached out and pulled his erect penis out of his pyjama bottoms, then she bent down and closed her mouth over its tip. It was a little smelly, but otherwise fairly clean, and after a few sucks she could hardly taste it.

Rod chuckled. “Looks like she wants to make it up to you Colin,” he said.

Colin closed his eyes and smiled happily. But after less than a minute, Francesca got to her feet, turned around, and held Colin’s erection in position while she lowered herself on to it. It slid up into her vagina, giving her some of the relief she was craving, and then she began to bounce slowly up and down upon it. She did not care that Rod was there – she only wanted to be fucked. Fortunately she had always had very little trouble achieving orgasms, and after the spanking Colin had given her, she was in any case very close to her climax.

Colin grabbed her t-shirt and pulled it up to her armpits. Francesca hesitated, but then raised her arms so that he could strip her naked. He tossed the garment into the corner of the room, and Rod eyes widened at the sight of her huge naked breasts bouncing up and down in front of her.

Colin struggled to his feet, pushing her up against the table and bending her over it. He resumed fucking her, and she spread her feet and buttocks apart, arching her back and grinding her pussy against his crotch. But this was an awkward position for Colin, and he pulled out, taking her arm and hurriedly turning her around to face him. She leaned back as he pushed her backwards, and lay down on the table, lifting her legs in the air and spreading them wide apart. Colin slid himself back into her vagina, and began thrusting for all he was worth, while Rod stared hungrily at her pussy.

Francesca quickly climaxed, gasping and moaning with pleasure. Colin was not far behind her, grunting as he spewed his semen deep inside her. After panting for a few seconds, he pulled out and stepped back, tucking his softening penis back into his pyjamas.

“Good job, son!” said Rod, grinning at Colin. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for work.” He took one last, longing look at Francesca, still lying naked on the table with her legs spread wide and Colin’s cum leaking out of her vagina, then he left the room.

Colin poured himself some cereal. “You haven’t done a poo in your panties in front of Dad yet,” he said.

Francesca sighed. “I will, Colin – I just haven’t needed to go yet.” In fact she needed to poop very badly, but had not yet managed to bring herself to mess herself in front of Rod. “I’ll do it today, I promise.”

“All right,” said Colin. “But just to make sure it’s a really good one, I want you to eat two whole bowlfuls of All Bran for breakfast.”

“Crikey, Colin, All Bran’s terribly bland,” complained Fran. But then, remembering that she had promised to obey all of Colin’s requests, she added, “But I’ll do it, of course.”

Colin smiled. “Good girl,” he said.

************************************

She got her chance at lunchtime. She was making Colin a sandwich while he played video games, when Rod walked in through the door. “Hi Fran!” he said with a lecherous grin.

“Hi Rod,” she said, fighting the urge to cover her breasts. She was currently wearing a pair of panties and nothing else, at Colin’s request.

“You look good enough to eat!” said Rod.

“Um, thank you,” said Francesca. It was now or never, she thought. She rubbed her abdomen, grimacing, then said, “Oh my goodness, I think I’m about to have an accident!” Fortunately the urge to poop was by now very strong, and as soon as she turned her back on Rod, she relaxed her anus, and her poo started to flow out almost immediately. At first it was thick, firm, and lumpy, and tented out the back of her panties by several inches before she pinched it off and it collapsed, falling along her gusset. Her panties sprang back against her buttocks, and she pushed again.

“Good grief!” exclaimed Rod. “What on Earth are you doing?”

“I’m doing a poo in my panties,” said Francesca nervously. “Does that … bother you?”

Rod watched her with a mixture of disgust and fascination. “I suppose you might as well finish what you’ve started…”

Francesca continued straining, and pushed out three more turds, the first short and stubby, the next two long and thin and quite soft. After she had finished, her panties were bulging massively at the back, and she had to hold on to the waistband to stop them from slipping down.

“I, um,” began Francesca, feeling disgusted by the sensation of the poo in her panties, but determined to please Colin. “I like the way it feels. Do you mind if I keep the poo in my panties for a while?”

Rod scratched his head. “Be my guest, if that’s what you like. I had no idea you were so … kinky.”

Francesca smiled, and went through to the living room. “I’m not sure if he likes it, exactly,” she said to her fiancé in a low voice, “but he says I can keep the poo in my panties for a while.”

Colin grinned. “Cool,” he said. “So stay like that all day.”

Francesca nodded, expecting this. “Okay,” she said.

For the rest of the afternoon she was careful not to sit down anywhere. At five o’clock she started making dinner, and it was ready by the time Rod returned home. She felt good about fulfilling her ‘duties’, but she was a little disappointed that she would not be getting a spanking as a result.

Colin and Rod sat down at the table, and she served them their food. Then she pulled out her own chair. “What should I do?” she asked. “Can I sit down, or should I take off my messy panties first?”

“I don’t want the smell of poo in my nostrils while I’m eating,” said Rod.

“Yeah,” said Colin. “Take off your panties, wipe yourself clean, and then come and sit down naked. Leave the poo in your panties, though, so you can put them back on later.”

Francesca nodded, and went to the bathroom to remove her panties. She carefully lowered them, stepped out of them, and left them on the floor next to the toilet. Then she moistened a wad of toilet paper, and wiped herself clean. Returning to the kitchen with her hands clasped in front of her pussy, she sat down.

“You know, Colin,” said Rod, “it’s nice of you to let me fondle Fran in her sleep, but I’d kind of like to know where the line is drawn. I mean, clearly you don’t want me actually fucking her, but what else am I allowed to do?”

“You can finger her,” said Colin.

“Yes, yes, I figured that,” said Rod. “But what about, say, if I rubbed my dick along her crack, without actually pushing it inside?”

“I suppose that would be okay,” said Colin.

“How about her mouth? Can I put my dick in her mouth?”

“While she’s asleep?” inquired Colin.

“No – well she’s likely to wake up during the fondling anyway,” said Rod.

Colin thought for a minute. “No – don’t put your dick in her mouth,” he said at last, much to Francesca’s relief.

“And how about my tongue – where can I put that?”

Colin shrugged. “Wherever you like. If you want to lick her out, that’s fine with me.”

“Can I put it in her mouth?”

“Oh, you mean French-kiss her? Hmm – I don’t think I like the sound of that. No, you can’t kiss her.”

“Okay!” said Rod brightly. “Just wanted to know where I stand. Thanks Colin.”

Francesca could not help noticing that she herself had not been consulted while her body was being bargained over. She also could not help noticing that this conversation had been getting her vagina quite wet…

After supper, she returned unbidden to the bathroom and put her panties back on, pulling them up until the poo squished disgustingly against her bottom. She spent the rest of the evening wearing nothing but her messy panties, and she would have climbed into bed with them still on, but Colin came into her bedroom with her, and asked her to remove them before they had sex. So they remained on the floor beside her bed, and after climaxing inside her, Colin left the room without asking her to put them back on.

He stuck his head back in, however, and she thought he might be about to tell her to put her panties on, but apparently something else was on his mind. “Dad will no doubt be in to visit you later,” he said. “Don’t forget, he can rub the outside of your pussy with his dick, but don’t let him put it inside you.”

Francesca nodded. “Otherwise you’ll have to spank me,” she said, “for letting him rape me.”

Colin grinned. “Right,” he said. “And it’ll be a hundred spanks, so make sure you don’t let him rape you!”

She shivered with nervous excitement as he closed the door behind him. Then she got up, wiped some residual poo off herself with a couple of tissues, and returned to bed, glad to be able to sleep clean.

She had not been asleep long, however, before the light was switched on. She screwed her face up and covered her eyes. Then she felt the duvet being pulled back, uncovering her naked body. She squinted through narrowed eyes. “Oh, hi Rod,” she slurred sleepily.

He was naked, fully erect, and grinning lustfully at her body. He opened a bottle of baby oil that he was carrying, and squirted the oil liberally over her breasts.

“Ugh, that’s cold!” she said, suddenly waking up more fully.

“It’ll soon warm up,” he replied, and he began to rub the oil into her breasts. He squirted more baby oil, and more, and a puddle formed in and around her navel. He rubbed this slowly all over her torso, until she was gleaming from her neck down to her pussy.

Francesca had to admit to herself that this was very erotic. The sensations of Rod’s slippery hands sliding up and down her torso, and slickly massaging her breasts, was quite delicious, and she felt her loins tingling in anticipation. She gasped as he slid his hand down her abdomen, his fingers running over her pubic mound and then cupping her pussy.

“Knees up, legs apart,” he said, and she obeyed immediately, revealing her most intimate parts to his hungry gaze. He climbed on to the bed and positioned himself between her legs. Pouring more oil on to her pussy, he rubbed it thoroughly into her labia, and easily slid two fingers into her vagina. As he thrust them in and out of her, she began to moan with pleasure.

He pulled his fingers out before she could get too excited, and lubricated his erect penis. Lying down on top of her, he began to rub its shaft between her labia as he smiled down at her and massaged her right breast with his left hand. Back and forth slid his penis, stroking her clitoris and making her moan softly, her eyes closing as she revelled in the sensations.

Reaching down to grasp his penis, Rod angled it downwards, pressing its tip between her labia. He slid it back down, pressing it into her groove, and when it reached her vaginal opening, its bulbous head just barely sank inside.

“Careful!” said Francesca, opening her eyes wide.

“Sorry,” he replied with a grin, and he pushed it further back, sliding it over her slippery perineum until it nestled against her anal sphincter. “Have you ever had anal sex?” he inquired.

Francesca shook her head. “Don’t…” she said. “Please don’t, Rod…”

He chuckled. “Well I wouldn’t want to deprive Colin of the pleasure of taking your anal virginity. He stroked the head of his penis back up over her vaginal opening, up to her clitoris, and back down again, until it was pressing slightly into her vagina. “Can you spread your legs even wider apart?” he whispered. “See if you can get that pretty little vagina of yours to open up a bit more…”

“Well okay,” said Francesca dubiously. “Just don’t put your dick any further inside me, please?” She spread her thighs apart as wide as possible, then she reached down with both hands and pulled on the skin of her labia, opening up her orifice as much as possible. “Will this do?” she asked.

Rod slid his penis back up over her clitoris, and then down again, pressing himself even harder into her groove. His penis bent a little under the pressure, but as soon as it reached her gaping vagina, it immediately slid deep inside.

“Oh no!” cried Francesca, appalled. At least that’s the emotion she attempted to convey with her expression, but in reality she was trembling with excitement. It was not that she wanted Rod to fuck her, especially (although at this point she was simply dying to have something sliding in and out of her), but the thought of Colin giving her a hundred spanks, for the crime of letting Rod rape her, was setting her loins ablaze.

“Don’t! Get out of me!” she cried, pushing against his shoulders as he began thrusting inside her. But her attempts to fend him off were pathetically half-hearted, and Rod was not fooled for a second.

“Admit it – you want this!” he whispered in her ear.

“No!” she protested, though she stopped trying to push him away.

“Yes!” he said. “Come on – I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” she asked.

“Say ‘fuck me!’ Say ‘fuck me Rod!’ Beg me to fuck you harder, to come inside you.”

“I’ll do no such thing!” she said indignantly. “You’re a very bad man, to rape an underage girl like this. I should have you sent to prison.”

“But it’s your fault that I’m raping you. You spread your legs for me, you held your vagina open, and you moaned while I was fingering you. If that isn’t an invitation to sex, I’d like to know what is!”

Francesca blushed. She could hardly deny this charge, because she could not deny that she had wanted him to enter her, nor that she was enjoying the thrusting even now. “All right,” she muttered, her cheeks bright red and her whole body flushed with arousal. “I admit it – it’s my fault that you’re raping me. I should be punished with a good spanking in the morning … and in the meantime, you should punish me yourself by raping me as hard as possible and ejaculating inside me…”

This brought Rod perilously close to orgasm, and he stopped thrusting for a moment to prevent himself from coming too soon. After a few seconds, he resumed thrusting, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him while he slid one hand down her back and between her buttocks. With his middle finger he found her anal sphincter, and she squealed as he slid one knuckle after another through the ring of muscle into her rectum. Finger-fucking her anus while fucking her cunt with increased vigour, he felt his orgasm quickly approaching.

“Rape me, Rod!” whispered Francesca into his ear. “Rape your son’s fifteen-year-old fiancée. I deserve it, Rod – I deserve to be raped over and over again, and punished every time because it’s always my fault…”

“Oh God OH GOD!” cried Rod, pumping her vagina full of his sperm. He continued slamming his erection into her with rapid, powerful thrusts, until he was finally spent, and collapsed on top of her.

Francesca, who had climaxed herself just a few seconds after Rod, wrapped her legs around his back and pulled his loins tighter against hers. She ground her pussy into his crotch, keeping his softening erection buried inside her.

“You’re sensational, Fran!” panted Rod, resting his forehead on the pillow next to her head. “Did you enjoy that?” He raised his head to gauge her expression.

She smiled at him with wide eyes, and nodded sheepishly. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had!” she said.

“Really?” inquired Rod. “Even though your last boyfriend was Matthew Wright?”

She nodded again. “Matthew and I only had sex once,” she said. “It wasn’t his first time, but it was mine, and it kind of hurt.”

Rod’s eyebrows shot up. “So you’d only had sex once before you started having sex with Colin?”

“Yes,” she said, biting her lip. Being reminded of Matthew was rather killing the mood for her. She did not want to think about having given up the most wonderful boy in the school, in order to marry the most horrible. But of course, now that she was thinking about it, she could not stop, and tears sprang into her eyes. “Do you think, perhaps, you could let me be alone for a while now?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said. “Goodnight, Fran.” He kissed her on the forehead, and then left the room, switching the light off as he went.

Francesca turned on to her side, curling herself up and hugging her knees as Rod’s semen oozed out of her vagina and trickled down her upper thigh on to the sheet. Tears dripped on to her pillow as a sense of misery threatened to overwhelm her. But this was silly – she had to take her mind off Matthew or she would go crazy. Instead, she tried to imagine the spanking that Colin was going to give her in the morning. One hundred spanks! Her buttocks would be on fire after that…

She reached between her legs, and began to masturbate. She cast her mind back a few minutes, and relived the moment when she had told Rod she deserved to be raped over and over again, and it would always be her fault. It was not long before she was approaching another orgasm…

************************************

When she awoke, she was surprised to discover that Colin was already fucking her. That she had slept through his penetration of her vagina was astonishing, and unprecedented. She wrapped her legs around him, and planted her lips upon his, snaking her tongue out to meet his in a deep, passionate kiss. She did not love him, by any stretch of the imagination, but she did enjoy the sex, and he was gradually getting better at it.

“So did Dad fuck you again last night?” asked Colin, breaking away from the kiss.

Francesca nodded. “Yes, he raped me again,” she said. “But I deserved it, and I wanted him to do it. I hardly resisted at all. And I loved it – I can’t wait for him to rape me again.”

Colin frowned. “Well you needn’t sound so happy about it,” he said irritably. “It’s not even rape if you want it. Just for that, I think I’ll spank you harder than usual. And maybe I’ll use a ruler instead of my hand.”

“Okay,” she said meekly, feeling a rush of fear and excitement at the prospect of being spanked with a ruler. Once Colin had come inside her, and pulled out, he climbed off the bed and pulled her to her feet.

“Come through to the kitchen for your spanking,” he said.

She obediently followed him, and smiled shyly at Rod, who was just finishing a bowl of cereal. He leered back at her, staring at her pussy with undisguised lust. While Colin left the room to fetch a ruler, she walked around the table and bent down to whisper in Rod’s ear: “Please, Rod, please rape me whenever you want.” He grinned, ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, stroked her pussy for a moment, and then sank two fingers into her vagina.

“You know,” he said, “I’d prefer it if you would call me ‘Dad’, since you’re about to be my daughter-in-law. Or even ‘Daddy’.”

“Since my own dad seems to have disowned me,” said Francesca, “I think I’d like that.” She pushed Rod’s cereal bowl out of the way, then lay back on the table, lifting and spreading her legs, with her pussy right in front of his chest. “Rape me, Daddy,” she said softly.

Rod chuckled. “I’d love to,” he said, “but I think Colin would be rather upset.” Nevertheless, he continued to probe her vagina with two fingers, causing her to moan happily. “After breakfast, we’re going to see my sister about your wedding dress. She’s a professional seamstress, and she said she’d do it for free.”

“That’s very nice of her!” said Francesca. “By ‘we’ you mean you and me?”

“Of course!” said Rod. “I’m sure she’ll want to measure you.”

“Dad, for fuck’s sake!” said Colin, entering the room with a plastic ruler in his hand. “Can’t you leave my fiancée’s cunt alone for five minutes?”

“Sorry, son,” said Rod, withdrawing his fingers. “She’s a little hard to resist when she’s right in front of me like this.”

“Hmm,” said Colin, frowning. “Fran, get off the table and get across my lap.”

Francesca obediently pushed herself off the table, and, as Colin took a seat, she draped herself over his lap with her bottom sticking up in the middle. He raised his ruler, and slammed it down on to her left buttock.

She screamed. “Ow!” she whimpered, reaching back to cradle her stinging flesh in her palm. “That really hurt, Colin!”

“It was supposed to,” he said grumpily, pulling her hand away. He did, however, spank her right buttock a little less hard, and he continued in this manner until both buttocks were as red as beetroots.

After thirty spanks, Francesca was beginning to enjoy herself. Her bottom felt like it was on fire, but it was now a uniform glow that was easier to bear than a single sharp slice of pain down the middle of one buttock. The pain was way more intense than her previous spankings had caused her, but that had not stopped her from becoming aroused, if not quite as much as usual.

Perhaps sensing that she was becoming accustomed to the current intensity of his spankings, Colin now indeed began to hit her harder. At first the extra force of the spanks set Francesca’s vaginal juices flowing even faster, but by the time Colin counted seventy, her arousal had been all but replaced with sheer pain.

“Colin, I can’t take much more of this!” she gasped.

“Yeah, your bottom is looking a bit … purple,” he said nervously. “Still, I said a hundred spanks…”

“Why don’t you spank her tits instead?” suggested Rod.

Francesca shivered at the thought. Having her breasts spanked with a ruler … it would surely hurt like buggery … but at least it would spare her poor abused bottom…

“Good idea!” said Colin. “Get up, Fran. Dad, why don’t you hold her arms behind her back?”

Francesca got to her feet, wincing in pain as her buttock flesh stretched and compressed according to her movements. She turned away from Rod, who pulled her wrists behind her back and held them securely in his hands. Then Colin, grinning at her huge, beautiful, perfect breasts, drew back his ruler.

Whack! Francesca screamed, and her knees buckled. Rod hauled her back upright. The ruler had sunk into the soft flesh of her left breast, and its edge had caught the middle of her nipple. “Not so hard, Colin!” she begged.

He looked genuinely guilty. “Shit,” he said. “I’m sorry Fran. It looks like your breasts are more sensitive than your bottom.”

“Well yeah!” she exclaimed.

He eased up for the next few breast-spanks, but Francesca still found it hard to enjoy them as much as her bottom-spankings, and after ten spanks to each breast, she had had enough – her breasts felt like they were on fire, and not in a good way. “Stop! Please!” she gasped.

“Okay,” said Colin. “But I still owe you ten spanks. Do you want them on your bottom again?”

“How about her pussy?” suggested Rod.

Francesca had now lost all enthusiasm for being spanked, and did not like the sound of this one bit. But Colin’s eyes lit up.

“Cool!” he said. “All right Fran, lie on the table on your back.”

She climbed carefully on to the table, making sure she did not sit down on her throbbing buttocks, and managed to lie down on her back with her knees against her chest and her feet well apart, presenting her puffy labia as a perfect target for Colin’s ruler.

He grinned gleefully as he slapped the ruler down on Francesca’s pussy. She squealed, and her feet kicked involuntarily, but she held her pose. It had not hurt as badly as she had feared – in fact, it had been rather nice, in a stinging, burning sort of way. She continued to hold still while Colin administered nine further spanks, each one flattening her labia and bashing her clitoris through its protective hood.

“Well, that’s a hundred!” said Colin at last. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Fran.”

“I have,” she replied. “I’m very sore now!” She rolled over on to her side before getting up. “If you don’t mind I’d like to lie down and recover for a bit.” She hobbled through to her bedroom.

“Get some cold cream from the bathroom cabinet,” said Rod. “Rub it into her sore places – she’ll appreciate it.”

“Okay,” said Colin, nodding.

Minutes later, Francesca sighed with relief as Colin gently massaged the soothing cream into her buttocks. “Ohhh, that feels so good!” she murmured.

“I’m sorry you got so sore,” said Colin. “Perhaps the ruler was a bad idea.”

“Yes! No more ruler please,” said Francesca.

“We’ll see. I think a hundred spanks with my hand might hurt my hand as much as your bottom.”

“Maybe your dad could take a turn?” she suggested.

“What’s up with you and my dad?” demanded Colin. “Anyone would think you were marrying him instead of me.”

Francesca blushed. The idea did have some merit. “As soon as we’re in a place of our own, it won’t be a problem,” she said. “You’ll have me to yourself.”

“Hmm, yes, well the sooner that happens, the better,” said Colin.

“Do you want me to stop letting him grope me and stuff?” asked Francesca.

“No, I suppose not … but try not to enjoy it so much!”

Francesca smirked. “I’ll try,” she said.

“Okay turn over – I’ll do your breasts now.”

She raised herself up on to her hands and knees, then gingerly rolled over on to her back. Her bottom was feeling a lot better now, and she was able to lie on it without much discomfort. She smiled at Colin as he began plastering cold cream on her breasts. “Thanks Colin,” she said. “This feels nice.”

Colin’s cheeks turned a little red. “Um, do you think you could call me … I don’t know … something other than just ‘Colin’ all the time? Something … affectionate?”

“Oh!” said Francesca. “Like baby or honey or darling or something? Which would you prefer?”

“I think I like ‘darling’,” said Colin.

“Okay darling,” said Francesca, spreading her legs wide apart. She batted her eyelashes at him. “Why don’t you get some of that cream on my pussy, darling?”

He grinned, and scooped out as much cream as would stay in his curled fingers. He began rubbing it into her labia, making her close her eyes and hum with pleasure. After a few moments Colin himself got so excited that he hurriedly pulled out his penis and sank it into her vagina, thrusting rapidly on top of her until he spurted his cum inside her.

“Good boy,” she said, stroking his greasy hair. “I’m glad you’ve stopped asking for my permission before you fuck me.”

He rolled off her and tucked his penis away. “I’m going to go and have breakfast,” he said.

“I probably should too,” said Francesca. “Though I may have to eat standing up. What would you like me to wear when I go out with your dad to get measured for my wedding dress?”

“Aren’t I coming too?” asked Colin.

“Men aren’t supposed to go wedding dress shopping with their fiancées,” said Francesca. “The wedding dress is supposed to be a surprise for you on our wedding day.”

“So I don’t get to have a say in what the dress is like?” inquired Colin.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’ll make sure it’s ultra-short and really sexy. I’m sure your dad will make sure of that too.”

“Okay,” said Colin, slightly mollified.

Francesca remained naked until after breakfast. She put on a pair of white silk panties, a tiny little blue skirt that stopped just below the elastic waistband of the panties, and a figure-hugging yellow tank-top that turned slightly transparent where it was stretched around her breasts. At Colin’s request she was not wearing a bra. White ankle socks and a pair of trainers completed the outfit.

“I feel rather nervous going out with my panties showing,” she said to Colin.

“Why? Your panties were showing all the time at school.”

“Yes but that was school. All of the skirts at school are extremely short, and at least half of the girls had their panties showing. Outside school, it’s different – absolutely nobody goes around with their panties showing.”

“Well get used to it,” he said. “I’m never again going to let you cover your panties, no matter where you are.”

Francesca, her vagina moistening, nodded. “Okay darling,” she said.

It was a forty-minute drive to Judith Grossman’s house. Rod nearly crashed the car several times while looking down at Francesca’s panties, and eventually in exasperation she clasped her hands in her lap and refused to remove them until they arrived at their destination.

Francesca half expected Judith to be some old hag, ugly and smelly and lecherous. But in fact she was a fairly ordinary-looking woman of about forty, plain but not altogether unattractive. She smiled warmly at Francesca as she ushered them inside. “Well aren’t you a pretty thing!” she said, without a trace of lustfulness. “Colin’s certainly done very well for himself!”

“Thank you,” said Francesca.

“So is it Fran or Francesca?” asked Judith.

“Either’s fine,” said Francesca. “I’ve been Fran since I was little, but I think I’m starting to prefer Francesca.”

“Then Francesca it is!” said Judith. “I think I prefer it too – it’s a very pretty name.”

Francesca smiled. Judith seemed like a very nice lady.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” asked Judith.

“Yes please, that would be lovely,” said Francesca. “Milk but no sugar, please.”

“All right then! If you and Rod would like to wait in the living room, I’ll be through with the tea in a jiffy.”

“She’s nice!” said Francesca to Rod, as she sat down on the sofa in the living room.

“She is,” agreed Rod. “She was always my favourite sister.”

“How many do you have?” asked Francesca in surprise.

“Three,” said Rod. “One older – Judith – and two younger – Lottie and Kat.”

“Are you close with all of them?”

“I get on all right with Kat,” said Rod. “Lottie pretty much hates me though. I’d be surprised if she even comes to the wedding.”

“Why does she hate you?” asked Francesca.

“I was very mean to her when we were growing up,” said Rod. “But I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Okay – sorry, I was just curious.” It was not very surprising to Francesca that Rod had been a mean older brother. She knew that Colin would have been mean to his own siblings, if he had had any.

Judith soon arrived with the tea, and they chatted for a while, with Francesca being the focus of the conversation. Then Judith got to her feet. “Well Francesca, would you like to come upstairs and I’ll take some measurements?”

“Sure,” said Francesca, getting to her feet.

“Not you, Rod,” said Judith, as her brother started to get up. “I’d like a little girl time with Francesca.”

“Oh – okay,” said Rod, sitting back down.

Upstairs, Judith led Francesca into a room filled with sewing paraphernalia, and closed the door behind them. “Now,” she said, “tell me why you’re marrying Colin.”

Francesca squirmed uncomfortably, staring at the floor. “Well, he’s … he’s my boyfriend, and … and, well … I’m carrying his baby…”

Judith folded her arms, and raised an eyebrow. “Try again,” she said.

“But it’s true! I am pregnant with his baby.”

“Well yes I know that,” said Judith, “but let’s face it, Colin’s not exactly a catch. And you’re … well quite frankly, you’re stunningly beautiful.”

Francesca blushed bright red. “I don’t know about that,” she muttered. “I’m a little fat…”

Judith snorted. “Fat like a rake,” she said. “Considering the size of your breasts, you’re positively skinny. But that’s beside the point. You must surely have had interest from boys more … well, not to put too fine a point on it, nicer, more clever, and a heck of a lot handsome than Colin.”

Francesca sighed. “I lost a game of dare,” she said. “I couldn’t bear to do my dare, so I had to take the forfeit instead – which was to marry Colin and bear his babies.”

“I see. And you and your friends picked Colin as the forfeit for this dare because, let me guess, you couldn’t think of anyone you would less like to marry?”

“That’s pretty much right,” admitted Francesca.

Judith sighed. “What a silly game,” she said. “And there’s no way out of it? No way to release you from your obligation?”

Francesca shook her head. “None,” she said. “I could have picked expulsion instead – and I wish I had done now, since I got expelled anyway – but I wasn’t thinking straight, and once I had accepted the forfeit, there was no going back.”

“You poor thing,” said Judith sympathetically. “So is being Colin’s girlfriend as awful as you anticipated?”

“Actually…” said Francesca hesitantly, “it’s not all that bad. Colin’s cleaned himself up a bit, and he’s actually pretty nice to me. And thanks to him and Rod, I have a pretty wonderful sex life…”

“What?” said Judith sharply. “What’s Rod got to do with your sex life?”

Francesca quailed at Judith’s reaction. “Nothing!” she said quickly, taking a step back. “He doesn’t touch me or anything…”

Judith sat down on a chair, and rubbed her forehead. “Look, Francesca, I sense that you need a confidante. Someone to talk to that’s … normal. And obviously you’re not going to open up to me if you’re worried that I might do something drastic. So … I promise I won’t report Rod to the police or anything like that. I won’t even tell him that you told me about … whatever it is that he does to you. But I’d like you to feel that you can confide in me safely and without judgment. Do you think you can do that?”

Francesca bit her lip, then nodded.

“All right,” said Judith. “Why don’t you tell me everything?”

And Francesca did so.

Afterwards, Judith said nothing for a few moments. Then she said, “Well, you seem to be handling your fate extremely well. Rod and Colin seem to have tapped into a part of you that actually enjoys being dominated and even, to a certain extent, mistreated. I’m very upset with Rod for having sex with you – and whether or not it was rape, I’ll not pass judgment, though it sounds pretty much like it to me – but I won’t do anything about it unless you want me to. But tell me honestly, Francesca – do you think you can be happy, marrying Colin and living with him and raising a family with him?”

“I’m not sure that ‘happy’ is the right word,” said Francesca thoughtfully, “but I think I can handle it, and if I don’t think too long or hard about what my life might have been like otherwise, I think maybe I can be … content.”

Judith sighed. “Well that’s a start, I suppose. But sweetheart, churning out baby after baby is going to be terribly hard on you. You’ll lose that lovely figure of yours pretty quickly. I know that you can’t use contraception, per the conditions of the forfeit, but what if you persuaded Colin to get a vasectomy? I’m sure he doesn’t relish the idea of raising an endless stream of screaming babies, tantrum-throwing toddlers, and so on.”

“I don’t think that would be allowed,” said Francesca, “unfortunately. My instruction was to bear him as many babies as possible – and that doesn’t leave much room for a vasectomy.”

Judith shrugged. “Well, you’re in for a hard life, then, I’m afraid. But for what it’s worth, I want you to know that if you ever need anything from me – advice, or a refuge, or even just a shoulder to cry on – don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Well, thank you, Judith!” said Francesca, genuinely grateful. “I really appreciate that.”

“Okay then. Now, about this dress…”

“Ah yes,” said Francesca. “Obviously Colin wants it to be extremely short.”

“Of course,” said Judith with a smirk. “But what about you? You should get a say in the style of your own wedding dress, at least.”

“I’m not sure Colin would agree,” said Francesca ruefully. “But perhaps you could make something that would please both of us…?”

“That would be ideal,” agreed Judith.

“So, for Colin’s benefit,” said Francesca, “it should be ultra-short … and not just ultra-short like this skirt or the other skirts and dresses that he’s used to seeing me in. It has to be even shorter – like, stopping a couple of inches short of the top of my panties.”

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Judith. “There’ll be nothing to it! Aren’t you going to be horribly embarrassed to be so exposed?”

“A little,” admitted Francesca. “But also a little … excited.” She blushed.

Judith chuckled. “All right,” she said, “I suppose I’ll see what I can do.”

“Also,” said Francesca, “it’ll need to show off my breasts in a fairly spectacular way.”

“I’m not sure your breasts wouldn’t look spectacular whatever I put on you,” said Judith, “but okay. Plenty of cleavage, then.”

“Not just cleavage,” said Francesca. “I’d like you to get creative – think about how to maximize my exposure and emphasize my breasts as much as possible.”

Judith pursed her lips slightly. “All right,” she said. “Anything else for Colin, or can we talk about what you want now?”

“Um, well there’s shoes and panties, of course, and my hair – would you mind helping me out with those?”

Judith smiled. “I’m just a dressmaker,” she said, “but yes of course, as a friend I’d be happy to help you with those things.”

“Thank you,” said Francesca gratefully. “Oh yes, the dress – well, most of all I’d like it to be pretty. And all white.”

“Of course,” said Judith. “Do you have any fabrics in mind?”

“Um, I’m not sure,” said Francesca. “Satin, maybe? Possibly with some lace…? I don’t know – should chiffon come into it somewhere?”

Judith chuckled. “All right, well how about I sketch a couple of designs and email them to you?” she said. “I presume you have an email address?”

“Oh yes,” said Francesca. “I’ll write it down for you later.”

“Good. For now, though, let’s get you measured. Would you mind taking off your top? It’s squishing your breasts and making a proper measurement impossible.”

“Oh – sure,” said Francesca, wondering if a groping was coming after all. She would not mind if it did, but she would be a little disappointed in Judith.

However, Judith was very professional, and touched Francesca’s breasts only while pulling the tape measure around their widest part. “Well, you’re a 32FF,” she said.

“Really?” said Francesca. “I only went up to an F-cup three months ago! Oh, do you think it’s because of my pregnancy?”

“I think it’s a little too early for that to be a factor,” said Judith. “It’s more likely that your breasts are still growing. You are only fifteen, after all.”

“Oh good grief,” groaned Francesca. “How big are these things going to get?”

“Probably not a lot bigger than that,” said Judith. “But they’ll continue to grow for another couple of years. Not as quickly as they’ve been growing until now, but it’s possible you’ll add another cup size or two to your current measurement.”

“Another two cup sizes! And that’s without even taking my pregnancy into consideration!”

“You could always get them reduced…” suggested Judith.

But Francesca shook her head. “No way,” she said. “Colin would never allow it, and in any case, I would hate to mutilate myself that way.”

Judith finished taking measurements. “Okay, we’re all done,” she said. “You can put your top back on.”

Francesca smiled. “I can’t wait to see your designs!”

************************************

After their visit with Judith, Rod took Francesca to a McDonalds for lunch. She was terribly embarrassed by all the stares and mutterings that her outfit provoked, and utterly mortified when the manager came out and asked them to leave, saying that he had received a complaint. Fortunately they were almost done anyway – Francesca had finished her burger and was picking through her remaining fries.

“Oh my God,” she groaned as she got into Rod’s car. “We’ll never be able to go anywhere in public with me looking like this?”

“Nonsense!” said Rod cheerfully. “We were unlucky, that’s all. There just happened to be some puritanical old so-and-so in there, who couldn’t stand to see a gorgeous young woman showing off her luscious body. Sadly there are people like that in this country – party-poopers with no sense of fun. The type who complained about Cindy Lawson’s breast falling out on the Brit Awards last year. Don’t lose any sleep over it – I’m sure you had more supporters than detractors back there. Unfortunately it’s always the detractors who shout loudest.”

They returned home, where Colin instructed Francesca to strip naked and put on her poo-filled panties from the day before. She did so, and spent the rest of the afternoon like that while playing games with Colin. At five o’clock she prepared dinner, and started making a list of items that they would need to get from the supermarket in the next couple of days.

That night, having had sex with Colin, she kissed him goodnight, and was surprised when he then climbed into bed with her upon switching the light off. Since it was a single bed, there was not much room for them both, but they made it work by spooning together. Francesca curiously inquired why Colin was not returning to his own bed.

“I don’t want my dad having sex with you tonight,” he explained. “Sorry, I know you enjoy it, but you’re my fiancée, not his.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” said Francesca. “I’m sorry I’ve been enjoying it. Do you think we can get to sleep like this?”

“I think so,” said Colin. “I can’t guarantee I won’t fall off the bed in the middle of the night, but it’s worth a try.”

In fact they did fall asleep, but it was not long before they were both awoken by the light being switched back on.

“Colin!” said Rod in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Colin growled sleepily. “Sleeping with my fiancée, if that’s all right with you,” he said.

“Well certainly, son, but does that mean I can’t have my nightly fun with her?”

“You can go without for one night, Dad,” said Colin.

“I suppose I could,” sighed Rod. “But on the other hand, it occurs to me this would be quite a good opportunity to double-team her – which I think she might enjoy, don’t you think?”

Francesca’s ears pricked up. “What does that mean?” she asked.

Colin scowled. “He wants to fuck your arse while I fuck your cunt.”

“Actually I was thinking of the other way around,” said Rod. “Unless you’ve done so in the last twenty-four hours, I believe you have yet to introduce Fran to the pleasures of anal sex…? I think that if anyone is going to take her anal virginity, it should be you.”

Despite himself, Colin was intrigued by this idea, as Francesca could tell from the way his penis began to grow and harden between her buttocks. “Maybe I could give that a go,” he said, reaching for the baby oil that Rod had left on the bedside table the night before. “Fran, could you get on to your hands and knees please?”

Francesca, still rather sleepy, complied with his request, and then shivered as she felt cold baby oil being poured on to her coccyx. It ran down over her anus, and Colin rubbed it around between her buttocks. Then he sank one finger into her rectum, making her gasp.

“If it hurts at all, just strain like you’re doing a poo,” said Rod. “Only, don’t push hard enough to actually do one. But it should help.”

Colin introduced a second finger, which did hurt a bit, so Francesca tried straining, and sure enough this did help, although it felt somewhat as if Colin’s fingers were a poo trying to return whence it came. He slipped a third finger into her anus, and she bit her lip, straining harder.

Then he withdrew his fingers, lubed up his erection, and began to push it against her sphincter. She strained again, and slowly Colin’s penis began to slide through. Gradually, he worked the engorged head of his erection deeper and deeper, until he was completely buried in her rectum. And there he stayed, while she tried to relax and not clench her anus. She almost clenched as he began to thrust, but once she learned to gently strain against the thrusting, and the lubricant became coated along the walls of her rectum, she grinned – this felt really great!

“What do you think, Colin?” asked Rod.

“It’s amazing!” grunted Colin. “I don’t think I’ll last long though!”

“Okay, stop fucking her then,” said Rod. “Stay inside her, but both of you roll over so that Fran’s lying on her back on top of you.”

“Who says I want Fran to be double-teamed?” said Colin peevishly. “You suggested anal sex – well thank you, it feels great. But I still don’t want you fucking her cunt.”

“I’ll buy you that new Halo game you’ve been wanting,” said Rod.

“Really? Okay, deal!” said Colin. “Come on darling, let’s turn over.”

Francesca felt both humiliated and excited by the fact that Colin had just prostituted her to his father for the price of a video game. She wondered what else Colin would accept in exchange for sex with her – and from whom…

By the time they both managed to get on to their backs with Colin underneath, his erection had popped out of her anus. However, it was easier to slide it in this time, and soon he was buried up to the hilt again. Francesca smiled excitedly at Rod, and spread her legs wide for him. He lubricated his own penis, then he crawled on top of her, and sank his thick shaft deep inside her vagina.

And then the double-fucking began. Francesca put her arms around Rod, holding him tight while he thrust his erection repeatedly within her. This had the effect of rocking her back and forth atop Colin, who therefore hardly had to do any work at all in order to continue fucking her anus.

“Ooohhhh!” breathed Francesca, almost intoxicated by the sensations caused by having two penises fucking her at once. “This … is … wonderful!” She could not help thinking that if she had stayed with Matthew, she almost certainly would never have experienced anything like this.

Amazingly, she climaxed before either Colin or Rod, almost screaming with ecstasy while the father and son team energetically fucked her in both orifices. Then Colin groaned as he squirted his semen up into her bowels. He remained inside her, though, for the next two minutes as Rod approached his own climax. As the forty-year-old pressed himself as deep as possible, spewing his sperm all over her cervix, Francesca shuddered and moaned in a second orgasm.

All three lay panting for a couple of minutes, Colin and Rod still buried inside Francesca. She found a voice first. “That was brilliant!” she enthused. “Can we do this again? Please? Like, often?”

Rod chuckled. “It’s up to Colin,” he said. “I’m up for it, though.”

“I suppose we can,” said Colin. “I think I’d like to let Gregor have a go, though – he’s never had a girlfriend.”

Gregor was the last person Francesca would have chosen to be part of a threesome with herself and Colin, but all she said was, “Okay darling.”

“Okay Colin,” said Rod, pulling out of Francesca and climbing off her. “Why don’t we let Fran get some sleep?”

Colin nodded, and the two of them left the room, switching off the light as they went. Francesca smiled in the darkness, and stretched, writhing naked beneath her duvet. She felt deliciously satisfied, and sleep came swiftly.

************************************

She received no spanking the next morning, for which she was grateful as her bottom was still quite bruised and tender. After breakfast, unbidden, she put on her messy panties once again. “Colin,” she said, “I need to poo again – can I empty this lot out now?”

“No,” said Colin, “just do your new poo on top of the old poo.”

Francesca sighed, but obediently spread her feet apart and strained, pushing out a long sausage of fresh poo which piled up on top of the stiff, dry mass of two-day-old shit already filling her panties. “There isn’t going to be room for all of it,” she said, as she started to squeeze out a second long turd.

“Put some in the front then,” said Colin.

Francesca did so, filling out the front of her panties as well as dangerously overloading the back. The flimsy garment threatened to descend under the weight of all that poo, so she held on to the waistband with one hand while busying herself with housework. As she vacuumed the floor of the living room, Colin lifted his feet to allow her to pass with the Hoover.

After vacuuming and dusting, Francesca checked her email, and was excited to see a message from Judith. She studied the designs, loved one of them, and wrote back to Judith…

************************************

Over the next few weeks, Francesca continued to defecate only in her panties. When they became so full that they would not hold any more, Colin would allow her to remove some of it and flush it down the toilet. This was a messy business which Francesca did not enjoy at all, but she soon developed a technique of lying on her front, pulling her panties down at the back, and removing large chunks of the oldest, driest poo from the top of the heap on her buttocks. This kept the mess to a minimum, and also ensured that the poo in her panties was never more than a few days old.

Once a week, usually on Saturday, she went shopping with Colin and Rod. She invariably attracted stares and comments, which were impossible to ignore no matter how hard she tried. Colin kept teasing her by telling her that one of these days he would make her go to the supermarket with her panties full of poo, but so far he had not followed through on this.

Rod contrived to fuck her every day. Sometimes this was as part of a double-teaming session, but more often than not, Colin would retire to his own bed after having sex with her, leaving her at his father’s mercy. The following morning, upon hearing that she had yet again let Rod ‘rape’ her, Colin would administer a lengthy spanking to her buttocks, breasts and pussy – usually with his hand but sometimes, rather more gently, with the ruler.

Colin typically fucked her three or four times a day, mostly in her anus, now that he had discovered how good anal sex felt. At least once a day, however, he made sure that he came in her vagina, just to reclaim it as his own after his father had been there.

Gregor came over one afternoon, at Colin’s invitation. Colin generously offered Francesca’s vagina to him, and then he left the two of them alone. Francesca obediently opened her legs for Gregor, and let him insert two, then three fingers inside her. She whimpered as he forced a fourth finger inside her, and then cried out in pain at the fifth. Realising that Gregor was determined to get his whole hand inside her, she called out for Colin, who came running at once.

Gregor was unrepentant, but he agreed not to attempt to fist her again. Instead, he thrust his erection – surprisingly quite large – into her vagina, and then fucked her hard while cruelly pinching and twisting her nipples. Colin protested vehemently, but Gregor, approaching his orgasm, merely responded by violently slapping Francesca’s breasts from side to side with one hand. Colin tried to pull his friend off his fiancée, but Gregor shoved him away, before groaning as he climaxed inside Francesca’s cunt.

With Francesca sobbing, Colin dragged Gregor to the front door and threw him out. Then he went back to Francesca’s room, apologising for Gregor’s behaviour and promising not to let his friend come back again. Francesca, however, knowing that Gregor was Colin’s only real friend, told him that she would be okay, and that he should not throw away his friendship with Gregor over this. Thus Gregor returned every day after that, but although he ogled and groped Francesca frequently, Colin would not let him fuck her again.

Francesca soon began to notice some physiological symptoms of her pregnancy. Morning sickness was the most obvious, and unpleasant, of these, but as her wedding day approached, she began to notice that her breasts were indeed getting bigger, as was her abdomen. Colin claimed he could not see any difference in her belly, but Francesca felt that she looked a little bloated.

Rod, with contributions from both Colin and Francesca, worked on preparing for the wedding. Invitations were printed and sent out, the church was booked, the dining room of the local cricket club was booked for the reception (Rod was on the team), and a hundred other arrangements were taken care of. Francesca was instrumental in the success of this venture, keeping a log of everything that had to be done, and by what date, and ticking them off one by one. Colin, if truth be told, did very little to help.

Francesca was corresponding regularly with Judith, and a week before the wedding Judith emailed her with the news that not only was her dress ready, but her bridesmaids’ dresses were ready too (Francesca had sent her Kirsty’s and Angie’s measurements some time before). And on the last Sunday before the wedding, when Colin and Rod were out shopping, Judith came to the house, bringing all three dresses with her. Kirsty and Angie came over from Pankhurst House, and tried their dresses on first.

“Oh my God!” exclaimed Kirsty, looking at herself in the mirror. “It doesn’t even cover my panties!”

“Nor mine!” said Angie. “Jeez, Fran, this is a wedding! Whatever will everyone think?”

“Bear in mind it’ll be mostly Colin’s relatives and Rod’s friends who will be attending,” said Francesca. “They’re probably all perverts. Present company excepted of course!”

Judith chuckled. “You’re not far wrong though,” she said. “I can’t think of anyone in our family who would complain about seeing the pretty panties of the bride and bridesmaids beneath their ultra-short microdresses.”

“Besides,” said Francesca, “my dress is even shorter than yours.”

“You’re joking!” said Kirsty. “Well, let’s see it then.”

Francesca tried on her dress, and shivered at how outrageous it was. It was all white, and consisted of a multi-layered chiffon and satin skirt that flared out from an elasticated band just beneath her breasts. The skirt ended a couple of inches below her navel, and therefore, as long as her panties were fairly low-rise, there would be approximately two inches between the skirt and her panties, as she had requested.

Above the band was a flimsy and extremely sheer mesh panel topped by an elastic-seamed neckline that swept up on either side to meet short puffed sleeves that could be worn on or off the shoulder. When putting the dress on, Francesca had to slide the band up underneath her breasts, then tug the mesh panel up over her breasts in order to cover them. The stretchy fabric clung to her breasts, moulding itself around them so snugly as to perfectly showcase their shape. There was just one problem – the panel was so narrow that Francesca was only barely able to get the neckline past her nipples. Once Judith had zipped her up at the back, she tried again to properly cover her areolas, but the elastic neckline simply sprang back into position, actually dropping past her left nipple so that it popped free. She pulled it back up, covering her nipple again, and it stayed.

She grinned at Judith. “It’s perfect!” she exclaimed.

“Really?” said Judith. “Oh, I’m so relieved! I was worried it would be too much.”

“That’s … just … scandalous!” exclaimed Angie.

Francesca grinned. “I know! So do you think Colin will like it?”

Kirsty shook her head. “Yes I’m sure he will. But jeez, Fran – you act like it’s important to you to please him. It’s almost like you love him or something.”

Francesca blushed. “I totally don’t,” she said. “But I am getting sort of fond of him, in a way. And I’m going to be his wife! If I can’t bring myself to like him even a little, it’s going to be a horrible marriage.”

“Very true, Francesca,” said Judith, nodding sagely.

“And why shouldn’t I please him? If he’s happy, he’ll be more likely to make sure I’m happy too.”

“All right!” said Kirsty. “I just think that Colin’s probably not the only man who would love to see his bride in such a dress … yet do you think many women would be willing to wear one, even for the love of their life?”

Francesca shrugged. “I can’t speak for anyone else,” she said loftily. “But I for one am determined to be the best wife possible.”

Angie was regarding Francesca shrewdly. “It turns you on, doesn’t it?” she remarked with a smirk. “The thought of exposing yourself this way.”

Francesca opened her mouth to object, then she closed it again, and blushed. “Maybe!” she said, a trifle defensively. “I have to admit that Colin and … I mean, that Colin has opened my eyes to certain … pleasures…”

“Like what?” inquired Kirsty.

“I’d rather not elaborate,” said Francesca hurriedly. “Suffice to say that it’s not as bad as you might think, being his girlfriend. Or fiancée, rather.”

“I’m glad to hear it!” said Kirsty. “Well, if you’re happy wearing that dress, then I suppose Angie and I can’t complain about these bridesmaids’ dresses, which seem positively conservative by comparison.”

Francesca smiled happily. “Excellent! Now Judith, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to have a word with my bridesmaids…”

“Oh, sure!” said Judith. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Once she had left, Francesca dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I dare you both to do a poo in your panties during the wedding service!”

“What??” exclaimed Angie, and Kirsty’s jaw dropped.

“I’ll be doing so as well,” said Francesca, “but it would be especially cool for Colin, not to mention less embarrassing for me, if you two could join me.”

“I assume Colin requested this?” asked Kirsty. “That disgusting…”

“No! Colin doesn’t know anything about it,” said Francesca. “It’ll be a surprise for him.”

“So who does know?” inquired Angie. “Don’t you think everyone will be a little bit … shocked? Oh I’m sure Colin will love it, but…”

“Rod knows, and so does the vicar,” said Francesca. “And we sounded out a couple of the guests that we weren’t sure would be able to handle it.”

Kirsty shrugged. “Well I suppose it’s the least I can do,” she said, “since it’s partly my fault that you’re marrying Colin instead of finishing school and staying with…”

“Stop it,” said Francesca sharply. “I don’t want to hear anything about what might have been.”

Kirsty nodded. “Understood,” she said. “Well count me in. Angie?”

Angie looked troubled. “Who’s going to be there that I would know?” she asked.

“Meg, Antonia, Inga and Pete, Mark Chapel, Gregor Stewart…”

“Eww!” said Angie and Kirsty together.

“Colin’s best man,” said Francesca apologetically. “Let’s see, who else – oh, Mrs Forsyth … I can’t think of anyone else. The rest are friends or relatives of Colin and Rod.”

“Nobody from your family?” asked Kirsty sympathetically.

“Oh yes!” said Francesca. “My Aunt Maddie will be there, and my brother Jason is flying in from Germany to give me away.”

“Oh good!” said Kirsty. “I’m glad your family’s going to be represented. I do think it was rotten of your parents to just cut you off like that.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to talk about them,” said Francesca, frowning. “So … Angie?”

“Hmm? Oh! The pooping… well, I suppose if Kirsty’s going to do it, then I will too. How’s it going to work?”

“Well, we’ll be rehearsing the wedding on Friday evening so you’ll get a feel for where you’ll be standing and so on, but basically, I’d like you both to start filling your panties just before you start walking up the aisle, so that the congregation gets a good view of your panties filling up as you pass by. If you find you can’t walk and poo at the same time, then just finish the job as soon as you stop walking.”

“All right,” said Kirsty. “I’ll practise in the meantime.”

“We should probably do a poo on Thursday evening,” said Angie, “and then avoid pooping again until the wedding.”

“That sounds good,” agreed Kirsty. “How about you, Fran? Will you be filling your panties as you walk down the aisle?”

Francesca grinned. “No, I’m going to wait until I’m at the front. But you should see the panties I’ve got for the occasion! They’re totally see-through!”

“Good grief!” said Angie. “So everyone will be able to see … everything!”

Francesca laughed. “That’s the idea!”

“But that’s a point,” said Kirsty. “What sort of panties do you want us to wear? I mean these dresses are lovely, but I know I don’t have any panties that match whatever shade of blue this is…”

“Cerulean blue, it’s called. But I’d like you to wear white satin panties, please. If you don’t have a pair, I can buy you some…”

“I have a couple of pairs, actually,” said Angie.

“Me too, though I’m not sure that they’re in the best condition,” said Kirsty.

“You can borrow a pair of mine if you like,” said Angie. “They’ll be a little tight on you, I dare say, but…”

“Are you saying I have a big bottom?” inquired Kirsty in mock indignation.

Angie laughed. “Bigger than mine, anyway. But not by much, I’ll give you that.”

“Okay!” said Francesca, pleased. “So I think we’re all done. Just get yourselves here after dinner on Friday, and we’ll take you to the church for the rehearsal.”

Kirsty smiled. “Okay!” she said.

************************************

The sun rose behind a thick bank of cloud on Saturday, the nineteenth of July, but by mid-morning the sky was practically clear. It was a beautiful day for a wedding, and Francesca was feeling quite upbeat. Her bridesmaids had arrived after breakfast, having been excused from their Saturday morning lessons, and they were now all getting their hair done by Rod’s youngest sister, Kat.

Francesca’s last major source of anxiety was taken care of when the doorbell rang at nine-forty-five, and Kirsty answered the door to find a devastatingly handsome young man standing there in an expensive three-piece suit. “Hello!” she said, smiling a little broadly. “I’m guessing you must be Jason?”

“The very same,” he said. “You look like a bridesmaid – let me guess – Angie?”

“The other one!” she said, laughing. “I’m Kirsty – pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” he said, with a smile and a slight bow. “Now where’s my beautiful sister?”

Francesca, dressed only in a pair of panties, shrieked with joy and ran into Jason’s arms as he entered the living room. “I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaimed.

“I wouldn’t miss it!” he said.

“Come with me,” she said, taking his hand and leading him into Colin’s bedroom. She closed the door.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it for the rehearsal last night,” began Jason, but Francesca cut him off.

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “I’ll talk you through it – it’ll be a piece of cake. But are you sure you’re all right with what’s going to happen?”

Jason shrugged helplessly. “It’s your wedding,” he said. “I’ve never heard of anything quiet so bizarre, and I can’t promise I won’t be grossed out … but it’s your special day and I’ll support you…”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully.

“…As long as it’s really what you want,” he added gravely. “Fran, I have to tell you, I don’t like the sound of Colin. Is he, or his father, making you do this?”

“No,” she said firmly. “Actually Colin has no idea I’m planning to do a poo in my panties. But he’ll love it, and I want to do it for him.”

“But why?” asked Jason in bewilderment. “Just because of some stupid dare? You don’t even love him!”

Francesca sighed. “Jason, please don’t do this. I may not love Colin, but since I have to marry him, I might as well throw myself into it wholeheartedly. It gives me a purpose. Don’t attack that purpose, today of all days … please?”

He pulled her into a hug. “Of course not,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s your decision, your big day, and I’m right behind you. Oh, and also … Happy Birthday!”

She drew away from him, smiling. “I was wondering if you were going to remember…” Then she saw what he was holding. “Oooohh!”

It looked like an expensive jewellery box, and she opened it eagerly. Inside were two gold earrings set with large cherry-coloured stones. “Are these rubies?” she asked.

“Yes indeed,” said Jason. “Your birthstone.”

“They’re beautiful!” she exclaimed, pulling them out of the box. “I’ll wear them today!” She quickly took off the dangly gold earrings that she had been wearing, and replaced them with Jason’s gift. Then she hugged him again. “Thank you!”

He smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

“Okay – I have to go and finish getting ready,” she said. “Have you had breakfast? You can grab something to eat or drink from the kitchen…”

“Thank you, but I’ve eaten,” he said. “You run along.”

“See you in a bit!” She smiled happily, and hurried out of the room.

After lunch, Francesca put on her dress, and was a little dismayed to discover that she was unable to keep both nipples covered up. Whether it was because her breasts had grown over the past week, or for some other reason, her left nipple refused to stay put beneath the elasticated neckline. Judith, however, was able to solve this problem by tightening the elastic slightly from the back, which pulled the neckline a little higher. Francesca then took off her panties and pulled on the gussetless white mesh panties that she had bought online a couple of weeks before. She looked at herself in the mirror, and shivered at the sight of her labia clearly visible through the flimsy fabric.

With everything finally ready, she climbed into the wedding car (which was actually just Judith’s Renault people carrier, with a couple of white ribbons attached), along with her bridesmaids, Jason, Judith, and Aunt Maddie.

“Are you sure I can’t talk you out of this disgusting display you’re planning on putting in the church?” fretted Maddie to Francesca as they set off.

“I’m sorry, Maddie, but my mind’s made up. It may be strange, but Colin will love it, and it’s him I’m doing it for. You don’t have to look.”

“Easier said than done! Where else would I be looking on your wedding day but at you?”

“Well, perhaps you could hold your hymn book up in front of your face and just block me out from the waist down?” suggested Francesca.

“I think I’ll try that,” said Maddie. “I just wish it would also block out the smell…”

They arrived at the church, and Julian Cleary, a friend of Rod and the official videographer, began filming Francesca through the back window. As the door opened and she climbed out, he crouched down and panned from her face all the way down to her see-through panties. She giggled and paused, giving him an opportunity to zoom in on her barely-concealed pussy. She considered pulling her panties to one side, but thought better of it. Might as well save something for later, she thought.

Outside the main church door, Francesca turned to Kirsty. “Baby oil?” she said.

Kirsty rolled her eyes as she handed over the bottle that she had been safeguarding at Francesca’s request. “Here you go – though I really don’t know why you want to make your panties more see-through…”

Francesca liberally squirted baby oil into both the front and the back of her panties, rubbing it around until her pussy and buttocks were gleaming, and her oil-soaked panties had turned completely transparent. Unfortunately some of the oil had run down her legs, and when she wiped it off, Kirsty tutted.

“Now your legs are all streaky, look,” she said. “You can’t just oil up bits of your legs – you might as well go the whole hog.”

“I don’t have time!” said Francesca.

“Of course you do!” said Angie. “You think they’re going to start without you?”

“Here, I’ll help,” said Kirsty, and as Francesca squirted more oil up and down her legs, Kirsty rubbed it well in. But now that her legs were glistening beautifully, her chest and abdomen looked dull by comparison.

“Come on – got to do above your panties now,” said Kirsty, and with the help of a little oil she covered the area between Francesca’s hemline and the top of her panties. Then she stood up. “Cleavage and shoulders,” she said.

“Might as well do my breasts too,” muttered Francesca.

“You can manage those yourself!” said Kirsty.

Francesca rubbed plenty of oil into her breasts, in the process soaking the mesh panel at the top of the dress, rendering it as transparent as her panties. Her gleaming nipples, standing proud, showed prominently through the flimsy fabric.

“All right!” said Francesca, as Kirsty finished oiling her upper back. “Let’s go! Kirsty, Angie, start pooping!”

As Francesca entered the church on Jason’s arm, she shivered nervously at the sight of the assembled guests all staring at her with expressions ranging from astonishment to lust. She slowly walked down the aisle to the tune of “Here Comes the Bride” played on the church’s organ, and smiled bravely at the faces on both sides of the aisle. Approximately halfway to the front, she began to hear gasps from those seated nearest to the back, and she grinned as she realised that Kirsty and Angie must have successfully started filling their panties.

In fact only Angie had done so thus far. Her two large, soft turds had slithered out in quite a rush, so that she had finished almost before she began to walk down the aisle. Now she was feeling highly embarrassed, but walking as sedately as she could, while shooting meaningful glares at Kirsty, whose panties were still clean and fitting snugly against her buttocks.

Kirsty was trying to push, and indeed had been trying ever since Francesca had issued her instruction. But whether through nervousness or because she was simply not ready to defecate, nothing seemed to want to come out. She strained and strained, although it was hard to do so properly while walking down the aisle, particularly when she was feeling so nervous.

But eventually her persistence paid off. As they neared the foremost pews, Kirsty’s anus opened up, and a thick, firm, lumpy turd started to protrude from her anus. She bore down hard, and it oozed outwards, little by little, pushing out the white satin material of her panties. Continuing to push, she managed to force a couple more inches out, but then she had to change direction as Francesca took her place by Colin’s side. Somehow she managed to keep pushing as she took her place next to Angie, and her poo continued to slide out. She reached back with one hand and pulled her panties down a bit, taking some of the pressure off the poo, and a few more inches came out. She cupped her hand beneath her panties, around the end of the poo, and pressed it upwards against her bottom. It squished outwards, and she let go, pushing again. A rope of softer poo slithered out of her rectum, filling out the back of her panties with a large and fairly uniform bulge. With a barely audible sigh of relief, she finished pooping and finally relaxed.

Colin had been grinning at Francesca ever since she had entered. As she reached his side, he reached out, grabbed the neckline of her dress, and pulled it down, tucking it beneath her breasts. They had not planned this, and Francesca had not been prepared for it, but she simply smiled happily at Colin, before turning to face the vicar.

“Dearly beloved,” began the old man, staring in awed delight at Francesca’s bare breasts, “we are gathered here today in the presence of God, to join together this man and this half-naked young girl in holy matrimony.” There were a few gasps at this, but the vicar continued on undeterred.

“If any of you can show just cause why they should not be married, speak now, or else forever hold your peace.”

“Stop!” came a voice from the back. “Yes! I know a reason why they should not be married!”

Francesca whirled around in astonishment. She would have known that voice anywhere, and sure enough, there was Matthew, striding down the aisle towards her. “Matthew, what are you doing here?” she asked him with wide eyes.

“I’ve come to rescue you!” he said simply, smiling at her. Then he turned to the vicar. “You cannot marry these two people.”

The vicar looked annoyed. “And why not?”

“Because the bride does not love the groom!” exclaimed Matthew. “Fran is taking part in this farce as a result of a game of Dare! Her forfeit for refusing to accept her particular dare was to marry Colin – but that is no good reason for getting married! She is doing this out of an admirable sense of duty and obligation – not for love!”

“Matthew…” said Francesca with a sigh.

“I know all about the dare,” said the vicar, “and it does not invalidate this wedding in any way. All that is required for this wedding to take place, and be valid in the eyes of God, is for these two young people to express their vows to each other, and to say ‘I do’ at the appropriate time. Now please leave this church, young man, as you are being both rude and disruptive!”

Matthew turned to Francesca. “Don’t do it!” he pleaded. “Just don’t say ‘I do’!”

“Matthew,” said Francesca, looking pained, “please … just go. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but … just go.”

His shoulders slumping dejectedly, Matthew turned and headed back down the aisle.

“If there are no further interruptions…” said the vicar, looking around sternly. “Very well. Who gives this pretty little girl to be married today?”

Jason, after a wistful glance back towards Matthew’s retreating figure, took a step forward. “I do,” he said, though he did not seem very happy about it.

As the vicar continued through the ceremony, Francesca finally relaxed her anus. She had been saving up her poo for more than three days, and she had been dying to empty her bowels ever since yesterday morning. But somehow she had managed to hold on until now … and this was it, her big moment. She strained hard, and almost immediately a thick turd started to push its way through her sphincter. Like Kirsty’s first poo, this one was firm and knobbly, and very long, so that she had to reach back and flatten it out. She flinched slightly at the sound of gasps of shock from the congregation; she hoped nobody would walk out or make a fuss.

Her panties quickly filled with poo as the vicar droned on. Colin had noticed by now what she was doing, and he was beaming with excitement as he stared down at the back of his bride’s panties. Francesca now leaned forward, spreading her feet apart, and, putting her bouquet down on the floor in front of her, she reached back and actually pulled her panties down below the level of her buttocks. The entire congregation gasped at the sight of Francesca’s thick poo slithering out of her anus and curling up on top of the growing mound in her panties. Julian the videographer, who had been filming from the side, now came scurrying around behind Francesca. He crouched down and zoomed in on the poo emerging from her anus, then he followed it down and filmed it flopping on to the large pile below. This, he said to himself, was going to be the most incredible, unique wedding video ever! And to think he had thought that the highlight of the video would be the footage he had captured of Colin pulling Francesca’s top down below her breasts!

“Francesca Marie Collins,” said the vicar, “do you take Colin Percival Grossman for your lawful … I’m sorry, do you need a minute?”

Francesca was still expelling poo. Julian had now come around in front of her and was holding down the waistband at the front of her panties, so that he could film her pussy in close-up from below, with the poo emerging from her anus just behind the visibly moist opening of her vagina.

“I think I’m done now,” said Francesca, pulling up her panties so that the huge mass of poo squished against her buttocks. “Please do go on.”

“Francesca Marie Collins,” repeated the vicar, “do you take Colin Percival Grossman for your lawful wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honour and obey him, submitting to his every whim, surrendering your body to his control, considering your own desires as secondary to his, and cherish him, becoming in a very real sense his sexual slave and personal property, from this day forward, forsaking all others and keeping only unto him unless he instructs you otherwise, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” said Francesca, smiling up at Colin’s zit-infested face.

“Colin Percival Grossman,” said the vicar, “do you take Francesca Marie Collins for your lawful wedded wife and sexual slave, to live together after God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, molest, and spank her, punishing her for the most trivial of reasons, and forcing your every fantasy upon her, however repulsive, from this day forward, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” said Colin, his eyes glinting with hungry anticipation.

The vicar continued with the Lord’s prayer, and readings were read. A little later came the vows, which were said verbatim from the service book, except that Colin once again promised to “love, molest and spank” Francesca, and she for her part promised to “love, worship and obey” Colin.

Gregor produced the rings on cue, despite (as Francesca learned later) having mislaid them for several hours that morning. Colin put one on Francesca’s finger with appropriate words, and she reciprocated with the other. The vicar said more prayers, and finally wound up the ceremony with, “I now pronounce you man and wife. Those whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder! Amen.”

He grinned at Francesca, then at Colin. “You may now,” he said, loudly and clearly, “fuck the bride.”

More gasps erupted from the congregation. Francesca carefully lowered her panties, stepped out of them, and bent over, holding on to the low wooden rail in front of her. She spread her feet apart and arched her back, sticking her bottom out with her buttocks apart, revealing her dirty anus and pussy.

Colin looked a little nonplussed, until Kirsty remembered another duty to which Francesca had entrusted her, and pulled out a couple of tissues, which she handed to Colin. He nodded, grinning, and quickly wiped the poo off Francesca’s bottom. Then he unzipped his trousers, and pulled them to the floor along with his yellow-stained Y-fronts. He took the baby oil from Kirsty, squirted some on his penis, and some more over and between Francesca’s buttocks. Then he placed the head of his erection at the entrance to her vagina, and thrust inwards sharply. She moaned with pleasure, and pushed back against Colin’s hips in time to his thrusts, her breasts swinging freely beneath her.

Colin took his time, slowing his pace in order to prolong the experience. Getting married had always seemed like an impossible dream, given his ugliness and lack of endearing qualities. Yet now here he was, actually fucking the most beautiful girl he knew, a girl who had just become not only his wife but also his slave.

He pulled out, as Julian’s camera zoomed in for a closer look at Francesca’s gaping vagina, and then he began to shove his erection against his new bride’s anus. It gave way reluctantly, and slowly he slid into her rectum. Francesca gasped, wincing a little, but then she started to pant in excitement as Colin’s thrusting became harder and faster. Eventually he groaned, pumping semen into her bowels, and as he withdrew, Julian delightedly captured on film a little sperm leaking out of Francesca’s anus before it closed up.

The congregation burst into spontaneous applause, and Colin turned around to grin at his family. Colin pulled Francesca’s panties back up, and then he led her after the vicar as they went to sign the register. Jason and Rod followed, to witness the signing. Afterwards, Francesca took Colin’s arm, and he led her back down the aisle as the organ played them out. Francesca smiled around at everyone, feeling only a little embarrassed about her breasts being uncovered and her panties being enormously full of poo. Somehow, through living with Colin and Rod, and being their sexual plaything while consistently wearing little or no clothing, she had lost her previous sense of propriety. To have her breasts or pussy on display in public – even to fill her panties with poo – no longer seemed frightening or crazy … now it was just exciting, and almost natural.

In fact, to her astonishment, she found she was actually enjoying herself, and looking forward to married life with Colin. She had no doubt that her exposure, and the crazy sexual things that Colin would require her to do for him, would only escalate in intensity once they were living together in a place of their own … and this thought made her vagina moisten with eager anticipation. In short … she was happy!

THE END


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