Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Ribeye98
Title: Thornwood Episode IV - The Champion
Part: 16 - 20
Summary: Does Rachel have what it takes to be a champion?
Keywords: fsolo, mast, exhib, voy, humil, nc, mf, Mf, 1st, bd,
blackmail, toys, nosex
   ************************************** Author's Note Copyright 2013 all
rights reserved.  Please do not repost this story on other sites without
permission (ribeye98@gmail.com).  By accessing this story, the reader
hereby certifies that he/she is of an appropriate age to access adult
material and that such material is permitted in the locality or country
where the reader resides.  The following is a creative work of fiction, and
the characters or incidents described do not resemble any persons or events
in the real world.
   You can read the rest of this series at https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Ribeye98/www/
**************************************
   Thornwood Episode IV - The Champion Part 16
   When the lights came on Rachel froze more out of necessity than fright.
She was temporarily blinded, and if she was caught she could not see to
flee anyway.  Soon enough her eyes adjusted and she looked around to see
she was still alone.  The clock on the wall caught her attention.
   **Finally, I can stop guessing at the time!
   It read 4:50.  That could mean the lights were on a timer like the
school bell.  But it was just as possible that an early morning worker had
thrown a switch somewhere.  Either way, it renewed her sense of urgency.
   The captain had pushed her out the locker room a little after 4:00 and
told her she had about one hour to complete her task.  That hour was nearly
spent.  And because of Rachel's misguided attempt to find her own route,
she would have to backtrack all the way to the last sticky and go the right
way through the atrium just to get back to the halfway point.  At least her
paranoia was gone.  She no longer feared a sinister trap in the atrium.
   There were other priorities than worrying about her captains' scheming.
Like the matter of checking for damage to her body.  She looked down at her
chest.  Her right nipple was still there; throbbing and angry, but intact.
Unfortunately the bell was still there as well with its knot tighter than
ever.  The persistent ache was dulled considerably.  She attributed that to
the circulation being restricted.  When she was satisfied that there was no
permanent damage, Rachel resumed her trek.  She hopped up the staircase in
earnest; her jingle bells calling out a glorious accompaniment.
   Rachel had praised the light as a stroke of luck for allowing her to
tell time.  She soon came to regret that praise watching the cruel hands
tick alarmingly fast.  Each clock she passed reported another minute gone.
It took one to get up the grand staircase and two more to traverse the
first hallway.  When she made it back to the main entrance, a full five
minutes had elapsed.
   Here the halls widened into a sort of foyer.  It was quite a different
scene with the lights on.  No longer cloaked in darkness she stepped into a
cavernous space where eyes from any direction would spot her in an instant.
   The nightscape outside had changed as well with the distant glow of
parking lot lights.  Looking out the wall of glass she saw her first sign
of life; the headlights from a car.  As if it had been sent to spoil her
good omen from earlier, the car slowed and turned into the parking lot. 
Rachel scrambled out of sight of the windows and didn't look back.
   She doubted the driver had spotted her from that far away.  That was
hardly her biggest fear.  The reality was much worse.  That car likely
carried a school employee on their way to work.  That person or persons
would soon be walking into this very foyer.  Rachel had to get out of sight
and earshot before that happened.  Otherwise they might be inclined to
investigate the mystery jingling and track her down.
   Without her exceptional physical conditioning, she would have long worn
out by now.  Hopping and walking in half steps is taxing work; especially
when you can't pump your arms for leverage.  She wondered if they had
burdened the lamb with similar obstacles.  Or was he just sitting there in
the art department waiting for her to show up?
   The atrium was frequently used for impromptu assemblies and other
meetings that didn't require the full sized performance hall.  There were
stacks of chairs everywhere and a portable stage was set up at one end. 
Without the light, it would have been a minefield to navigate.
   Rachel slowed as she came upon the administration areas.  She peeked
around the corner and verified that it was empty before venturing forth. 
All the lights inside were still off.  She passed the receptionist desk and
the principal's office without incident.
   At the far end of the atrium she found her next sticky.  It pointed down
the wing she had seen earlier through the locked door.  A noise startled
her as she entered the doorway.  She identified it as the air conditioning
system kicking on for the day.  Just another sign that the school was
slowly waking from its overnight slumber.  At least the noise from the
ventilation fans would help mask her movements.
   Rachel made her way from the heart of the school.  The stickies led her
back into the maze of passages and annexes which would hopefully culminate
in the far flung art department.  She was wholly unfamiliar with this wing
of the school and didn't dare deviate from the path marked out for her.
   She kept thinking the stronger than plastic ties around her ankles might
stretch loose or fatigue from the constant pull and allow her to break
free. But the nylon proved more resilient than it first appeared.  At one
point she came upon a wooden box with sharp edges.  She thought she could
apply enough force with her athletic legs by sitting down to maybe break
the ties that way.  She considered it, but had spent all her margin for
experimentation on earlier endeavors.  She could not afford to stop right
now.
   She entered the upper level science department.  The walls were littered
with complex physics equations and math comics.  The classroom lights were
off, but she could see LEDs from computers and other equipment blinking
within.  Rachel pictured the students who normally roamed these classrooms;
scrawny, socially awkward nerds who would hyperventilate if a naked girl
were to cross their path.
   **That yearbook nerd, Marvin Travinsky probably hangs out in this
department.  He would be creaming his shorts right now if he saw me like
this.  Well he's seen enough to last a lifetime.  I'm not giving him or any
nerd a chance to ogle me anytime soon.
   More and more signs of human activity appeared as she went.  Every sound
was a humiliating encounter waiting to occur; one misstep could mean the
end her nude journey.  The looming arousal came forward in those moments
and steered her thoughts.  Like some trashy novel, they wove sexual
fantasies into her imagination.
   She came upon low rumbles; trucks idling outside with their morning
deliveries.  It was reminiscent of her first naked romp through school. 
Where a delivery driver had almost caught her masturbating in the alcove
out back.  That same man might be outside right now.  She had run from him
last time, but a lot had changed since then.
   The backdrop of arousal loomed large and sent her into a tizzy.  She
imagined the young man finding her in the throes of unquenchable desire and
coming to her aid.  He would rip off his own clothes to match her nude
state and she would finally get her first up-close view of male genitalia.
Her fantasy didn't end there.  She would eagerly bend over and turn her
first look into a first taste.  After a time he would extract himself from
her mouth and move around behind her...
   Lost in her imagination, Rachel came around the corner and nearly
stumbled over a mop bucket on wheels.  It was full of water but its
operator was nowhere in sight.
   **Whew.  Got to be more careful, girl.  You almost let that one get away
from you.  One more step and you would...have...
   The backdrop flared up again.  This time her amorous partner was
replaced with an inanimate object.  The tip of the mop handle was sticking
out mere inches from her pussy mound.  It was just the right height and
angle.  More importantly, it was not imaginary like her delivery boy.
   A spasm rippled through her vaginal muscles as she stared at the handle.
Being unable to touch herself down there for the past hour had been
agonizing.  Like an itch you couldn't scratch, the need for stimulation
grew ever stronger.  It took a lot of willpower, more than she would have
ever imagined, to walk away.  But when she had shuffled off to the next
hallway she was glad she did not go through with what she was considering.
   Endurance.  That was the key.  She prided herself with being able to
endure hardship.  She would rather take the itch with her than defile
herself and her integrity on a stupid mop handle.  Every step brought her
closer to the finish line.  She had carried her burden of arousal this
long. She could do it a little longer...TO BE CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode IV - The Champion Part 17
   Rachel glanced at the nearest clock - 5:17.  She had tinkled down so
many hallways that they all ran together interminably in her mental map. 
But around the next corner was a sight for sore eyes; a poster on the wall
advertising an upcoming art exhibit.  That meant she was getting close to
the art department.  The show was titled "Rule Breakers - A celebration of
artists who broke convention and changed the world".  The poster boasted of
a traveling gallery of famous abstract pieces that would be shown alongside
local and student submissions.
   **I never realized how much this school appreciated art.  Look at that.
They even give scholarship prizes to the best student pieces in the show.
How do you win at art?  I thought it was all supposed to be in the eye of
the beholder.  Whatever.  Hmm, it's scheduled for today.
   Just then a door slammed.  Footsteps echoed from around the last corner.
They put the fear of God into Rachel.  She was angry at herself.  The
stakes were too high for her to be stopping and reading posters.  She heard
a woman's voice which was answered by another.  Both sets of footsteps grew
louder.
   Rachel looked around for escape.  The voices were coming up behind her.
She took off down the hallway ahead.  The corridor was long but curved to
the right.  If she stayed far enough ahead of the women, she could probably
remain out of sight.  But moving quickly sent her bells into a cacophony of
noise which was sure to attract attention.
   Rachel fled about half way down the corridor before pausing.  She heard
the voices clearer now.  They were talking about her.
   "See?  It just stopped" one of the women said.
   "So our current crop of students is not scary enough for you," the other
one teased, "now you're hearing phantom sounds?"
   "I'm telling you I heard bells coming from that direction.  HEY!  IS
ANYBODY DOWN THERE?" she yelled.  Rachel did not move a muscle; not even to
take a breath.
   "Oh, Margaret, I swear.  One month into the school year and you're
already starting to crack.  Maybe you should have retired last year after
all."
   Margaret stood her ground.  "I heard bells and I will prove it to you.
Come on!"
   **Oh shit.
   Rachel had to find a hiding spot quickly.  One of the dark classrooms
would have been perfect if she could get in.  She moved as quietly as she
could to the nearest door and turned around.  She got a clumsy grip on the
handle and was able to turn the knob.  But as she expected, the door did
not open.  The wound up handle made a noise as she let go of it.
   The footsteps stopped.  Then a second later she heard them again coming
with renewed haste.  Fearing imminent capture, Rachel gave up sneaking and
took off hopping down the hallway.  All the classroom doors were probably
locked, but they weren't the only doors.
   At the last moment before she was caught, Rachel came upon a door with a
push bar and an exit sign above it.  She charged through without
hesitation. The exit led into one of the weird little courtyards which were
sprinkled around the school.  She quietly eased the door closed before
retreating behind a nearby tree.  It was still night outside and she was
thankful for the temporary cloak of darkness.
   Seconds later the two women reached the door.  She saw them through a
large adjacent window.  They stopped and listened for a moment.  Up to that
point Rachel had left a noisy trail to follow.  But they had reached the
spot where it went cold.  They started looking around for clues to where
the noise had gone.  At one point, one of the women opened the exit and
poked her head out into the courtyard.
   "Is anybody out here?" she called.  She waited a few seconds then closed
the door when she got no response.
   Rachel saw the women through the window debating what to do.  Margaret
wanted to call security, but the other one wanted to drop the chase. 
Rachel silently thanked the other one for convincing her friend to give up
and move on.
   Only when she was sure the two women were completely gone did Rachel
venture from her tree.  Her happiness at escaping the close call was short
lived.  For when she returned to the exit, she discovered that there was no
handle on this side of the door.
   With her reentrance barred, Rachel turned back to face the courtyard
looking for another route.  The irregularly shaped yard was long and
skinny. On one side it followed the curving contour of the hallway she had
been walking down.  A row of classrooms sat on the other side.  Down the
middle were cement park benches with picnic tables and the occasional tree.
   A light came on at the far end of the courtyard.  Rachel crept over to
the nearest tree and watched through the windows at the back of the
classroom.  A teacher inside was unpacking his bag.  He pulled out a laptop
then sat down and started checking his email or something.
   When he didn't do anything else for a few minutes Rachel sat down on a
bench and weighed her options.  She had to accept that fact that, even
though it was still pitch black out here, morning had broken inside the
school.  This was the third person she had encountered in a few short
minutes and more were surely on their way.  She was guaranteed to be caught
if she didn't get out of this courtyard.  Unlike the one she had passed
through, the doors on this side did have external handles.  There was a
chance that, since this courtyard did not open up to the outside world,
they didn't lock these doors at night.  But the more she thought about it,
the less likely that seemed.
   **I could just go up there and knock on his door.  Throw myself at his
mercy.
   As she studied the teacher through the window, her deviancy surfaced. 
She had never seen this teacher before, but he wasn't bad looking.  Rumors
existed about unnamed male teachers who responded to attractive female
students.  Perhaps she could persuade him to let her go without turning her
in in exchange for a little sexual favor.  She could even claim she had
been waiting all night out here to seduce him.
   **Who knows?  Maybe he has a thing for slutty bunnies.
   But she knew the truth about rumors.  Those stories never happened in
real life.  To proposition a teacher would land them both in serious
trouble.  Better to leave sex out of it; as much as a naked and tied and
horny girl can.
   Just then he stood up and walked over to the glass sending Rachel
scurrying back behind a tree.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a
pack of cigarettes.  Rachel stood perfectly still as he opened the door and
joined her in the courtyard.
   The teacher must come out here regularly to smoke.  Per his routine, he
propped his classroom door open with a nearby rock and walked over to a
certain picnic table.  He didn't notice her and assumed he was alone.  Who
would expect a naked girl to be out there in the middle of the night?  He
intentionally selected the most remote table just around the corner from
his classroom and not visible from any of the windows.  Then he sat down
and lit his cigarette.
   This was her opening.  She had once read in a history book about a
sniper in World War II.  He would only move when the enemy lit a cigarette.
The flash of the lighter flame would contract their pupils and affect their
vision at night for a short time.  He would use that time to get into
position without being seen.
   Rachel thought she could use the same principle on this teacher.  There
was a concrete partition blocking his view of the classroom door.  She just
had to get behind that partition before his eyes adjusted and then she
could go through his class and get back on track.
   If she was going to do it, she had to act quickly.  Channeling her inner
racer, she took a deep breath then launched from her hideout.  Just like
when she swam, her movements were fluid and smooth.  She was singularly
focused on getting through the open door and the path was clear.  It would
have been a perfect escape if not for her accursed bells.
   "Tinkle!  Tinkle!  Tinkle!  Tinkle!..."
   The teacher stood in reaction to the sound.
   "Hey, who's there?"...TO BE CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode IV - The Champion Part 18
   The teacher instantly locked onto the movement.  Being on a tobacco-free
campus, his first reaction was fear of being caught with a cigarette. 
Until his eyes adjusted he couldn't distinguish much about the shape, but
he certainly heard the bells.  It didn't seem intent on busting him. 
Rather, the mystery shape was waddling like a penguin straight toward his
classroom with all available speed.  He was nearer to the door though and
could easily intercept it.  He made a critical mistake of extinguishing his
cigarette before making his move.
   When she heard him call out, Rachel's survival instinct kicked in and
she found another gear.  With a high pitched squeal she did her nickname
proud; bounding across the yard in a few large hops like a true jackrabbit.
She got close enough for the glow from the classroom to illuminate her
shapely figure.  That's when the teacher realized he was dealing with no
ordinary intruder.
   The woman was naked; that much was obvious.  And not just naked, but
stunningly beautiful.  Hampered with shackles at her wrists and ankles, her
body jiggled in all the right places as she hopped.  But why was she
hopping in the first place?  And why was she jingling like a Christmas
reindeer?  The facts didn't add up to any sort of cohesive explanation. 
For a moment he wondered if someone had replaced his cigarette with a
hallucinogenic substitute.  A thorough interrogation should help him get to
the bottom of it and would be an enjoyable experience to boot.  He moved to
nab the streaker.
   Rachel reached the doorway just before him.  She glanced back to see the
teacher coming up fast a few steps behind.  She was giving him a nice view
of her bare body and heaving bosom but she couldn't help that.  She could
not outrun him, but that was no longer her intention.  She barreled into
the door and intentionally knocked loose the rock which was holding it
open. Rachel turned away to hide her identity from the teacher as the door
swung free and latched behind her with a crash.
   "Hold it right there, young lady.  Open this door.  I want to talk to
you."
   Rachel did nothing of the sort.  She hopped away through his classroom
at once; leaving him pounding on the door and yelling.  Rounding the corner
at the end of the hall she could still hear his racket.  By the time the
teacher had attracted assistance, Rachel was long gone.  Unwilling to admit
he had been outside illegally smoking, he claimed he had locked himself out
of his classroom after coming outside for some fresh air.  He didn't
mention being outsmarted by the naked bunny.
   Rachel's escape margin had been razor thin.  Her heart was still racing
when she got to the art department.  How she crossed that courtyard so
quickly was a miracle.  She hoped he didn't get a good enough look at her
face to be able to recognize her in the future with clothes on.  She didn't
have to worry about that.  The teacher had been too busy staring at her
shapely ass to notice her face.
   The clock read 5:30.  Her hour was long spent.  If the slaughter was on
a timed schedule, then her lamb was most likely already beyond help.  But
she could see the finish line now in the form of a large sticky hanging
outside a classroom at the end of the hall.  No point in turning back now.
   On the way to the end of the hall, Rachel passed a double glass door. 
Looking out she saw only darkness.  There were no more buildings out there.
This was the absolute end of the campus.  Beyond this point was nothing but
empty land.  The captains could not have sent her to a more remote part of
school.
   The last sticky was a welcome sight.  It hung outside the largest
classroom in the art department.  The three previous classrooms on the
right side the hall had actually been gutted of their inner walls and
turned into one long room.  This was useful for larger group instruction or
artistic performances.  But currently it was being used to store many of
the art pieces for the exhibit.
   The sticky had no arrow.  Below the signature three wavy lines were her
final instructions; a paraphrase of the cryptic speech she had heard ages
ago back at the aquatic center.
   "Your fate is bound.  Water is your master yet it is also yours to
command.  Lower yourself before the lamb.  There will you find salvation."
   In context, the message should not have been difficult to decipher. 
`Lamb to the Slaughter' was a leisure activity after all.  Its core was
little more than an elaborate excuse to initiate an intimate rendezvous
between two teammates.  With some minor modification it worked equally well
with a male or female lamb.  What a fun way to build team unity!
   Pip had provided hints in her speech: "A water warrior must be keen of
mind and sound of body.  That is all you should need to face the task
ahead. Therefore that is all you shall be equipped with; nothing more."
   When they sent her out without tools or a stitch of clothing, Rachel
should have caught on that her body was meant to be the equipment.  And
what a glorious set of pristine, mint-condition equipment it was!  But she
was either too na�ve or unwilling to go there in her mind.  Either way, she
was caught totally off guard by the scene in that classroom...TO BE
CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode IV - The Champion Part 19
   The room was dark just like all the other unoccupied classrooms.  Not
knowing what to expect, Rachel pulled the door closed behind her before
feeling around for the switch with an elbow.  The scene was unexpected to
say the least.  It was like she had entered must be the most eclectic
collection on the planet; nothing like a typical classroom.  I preparation
for the art show, creative artifacts had been crammed into every available
space from floor to ceiling.  Without proper lighting and presentation the
pieces looked like junk.  Most were junk.
   Rachel marveled at the scene.  She was unsure how to proceed or even
what to do.  Then she heard a quiet scuffle from behind a pile.  Following
a narrow path to a clearing between the mountains of art, she finally came
upon her objective.
   **The lamb is still here!  That's not Ellie.
   The bare chest belonged to a man; a teenager to be more precise.  By
reflex, she moved to cover her nudity in his presence.  But the resistance
from her bonds reminded her that was impossible.  It didn't matter anyway,
because he had a thick covering over his face and couldn't see anything.
   Just because she had found the lamb didn't mean her job was done.  The
slaughter was still coming - but in what form?  Her task wasn't complete
until they both arrived safely at the aquatic center.  Rachel stood back
and studied the situation before approaching.  She had learned that every
detail could be important.
   The boy was on a small wooden platform just big enough to stand on.  It
looked like an overturned crate.  A square post made of the same rough wood
came up behind him at least six feet; almost to the top of his head.  From
the way his arms bent back, Rachel guessed his hands were secured behind
the beam with cuffs similar to her own.
   The aforementioned covering sat completely over his head like an
overturned bag.  A cord pulled the bag tight around his neck and was
secured with a lock.  The lock had three wavy blue lines painted on it.
   Moving around beside him, yet still safely out of range, she verified
that he was secured to the post.  The only difference was that his feathers
were black instead of pink and his fingers were not zip-tied.  It wasn't
immediately obvious why they had immobilized her fingers and thumbs but
allowed his to move freely.  Knowing the captains, none of it was an
accident.
   The bag was just about the only covering he had.  He was bare-chested
and barefoot with a white towel around his waist.  His shaved armpits
indicated that he was a swimmer.  It made sense that he would be a fellow
member of the Thornwood swim team, but Rachel could not confirm that
without seeing his face.  His feet were tied to the sides of the crate with
some rope keeping his stance wide.
   **Black cuffs, blue lock.  What's with all these colors?  This doesn't
make any damn sense.  He can't move at all and I'm sure as hell not
waddling all the way back to the aquatic center!  All that nonsense about
water and yielding isn't going to get either of our handcuffs loose.  They
had told me my key was with the lamb.  But I don't see any keys.
   The only other clue was a note hanging beside him.  Rachel shuffled
forward to get a closer look.  Her bells made a little `tink' when she did.
The lamb shifted but remained silent.  Rachel got just close enough to read
the note.
Title: The Carrot is the Stick.
By: Anonymous
Medium: Performance Art
Curator's instructions: This piece is to be displayed in a prominent
section of the exhibition hall with good lighting.  Transport it on a
mobile cart in one piece.  Leave the towel but make no other accommodations
or alterations to the subject.
   **Oh my God.  The art exhibit is the slaughter.  They're going to put
him in an exhibit hall all day to be performance art in nothing but a
towel. Oh wait.  The sign said `leave the towel'.  Does that mean?
   A lump formed in Rachel's throat.  Something embarrassing must be under
there and the captains mean for her to find.  If her suspicion was correct,
once she removed his towel she would no longer be the only naked person in
the room.
   Before going down that road, Rachel wanted to ask if he had any
additional information that could help them or knew anything about the
missing keys.  Though she hated to reveal her identity, she spoke up.
   "Uh.  Ahem.  I'm here to help you, but I can't find the keys."
   "Mmmph.  Mh Mphh" the lamb bleated out a muffled response.
   A horrible reality dawned on Rachel.  They had gagged him so he couldn't
explain to anyone that he wasn't really part of the art exhibit!  The sign
did all the talking for him and it had been posted above her reach.
   **He's not going to be much help finding the keys.  Only I can save him.
But how?
   It all came back to his towel.  The only thing she could think to do was
investigate.  It must be done.  She moved closer and hooked her pinky over
the edge.  The tuck resisted at first as the boy tensed up.  Then all at
once the towel broke free and puddled on the floor.
   **Now what?  If he is naked; I can't just look at him.  I am obliged to
preserve his modesty.
   Rachel's sudden acute onset of honor was out of character.  Ever since
her sexual awakening, her attitude toward guys had been changing.  She
frequently pictured them naked.  And now the opportunity had been gift
wrapped for her.  All she had to do was turn around and look.  Yet still
she hesitated.
   **It's not right that I get to see him but he can't see me.
   She grappled with herself; saying she shouldn't do anything without his
consent.  But he had been rendered unable to speak.  How was that fair? 
Deep down she knew it was all just an excuse to stall.  The truth was she
was scared.  Afraid to face the object of her lust and the pleasure it
represented.
   Pip's words came to her in that moment.  "You are strong, but you only
act to protect yourself.  Only when you are willing to lower yourself and
give all for the sake of your brother will we count you as an equal among
us."
   **I should be practical about this.  My not looking does nothing to
preserve his modesty.  It only protects me.  If I don't rescue him, he will
soon have nothing left to preserve.  We're both naked and defenseless, but
we're not equal in this task.  He's just a lamb.  I am the strong one.  I'm
the one who has been asked to give all for the sake of my brother, even if
that means opening myself up to pain or embarrassment or...whatever may
result.
   If she didn't turn around she might as well quit the team in disgrace.
She couldn't accept that.  So steeling her will, Rachel took a calming
breath then turned to face her fate...TO BE CONTINUED
   Thornwood Episode IV - The Champion Part 20
   Like many public schools, art was a controversial subject at Thornwood.
Violence and nudity in particular straddled the line between free speech
and public decency.  The art department was always pushing that line while
certain staunch Bible thumping citizens of the community stood opposed. 
The school board was usually stuck in the middle of these fights.
   The `Rule Breakers' art exhibit became a flash point in the struggle. 
Scheduled months in advance, the traveling exhibit technically broke more
than a few guidelines; particularly those regarding nudity in art.  When
concerned citizens demanded the school board alter non-compliant pieces to
fall in line with the school decency rules, a minor scandal erupted.  The
art department countered by leveling claims of censorship.
   The school board initially ruled that professional pieces may be shown
unaltered, but kept the guidelines in place for student submissions.  The
art students, who were already riled up, revolted.  They demanded the same
consideration as the traveling exhibit.  What good was a show about rule
breakers if the lesson was that you must follow all the rules?
   An uneasy middle ground was agreed upon.  Student submissions containing
full uncensored nudity were reluctantly allowed in sculptures, drawings and
paintings.  But it was decided that photographs or live performances
involving humans must be covered.  The board designated one member the
unenviable task of regulating all submissions prior to the show.  Creative
students did what they do best; they got creative.  They flooded the system
with submissions which flaunted the definition of the word `covered'.
   The board member tasked with policing the questionable submissions
thought the whole thing was stupid.  The few staunch opponents wouldn't be
caught anywhere near the art exhibit.  What did they care what was going on
there?  Besides, who could tell which pieces were local and which were
professional?  They would all be mixed together on the day of the show
anyway.  He did his job for a few weeks until the public furor died down.
No one even noticed when, one day, he quietly approved everything and
washed his hands of the mess.
   When Pip heard about the Rule Breakers show, she saw an opportunity.  A
friend told her she could easily slip a late submission into the show and
even recruited some help designing and building the platform.
   The severity of the slaughter varied in the games Pip's father had told
her about.  Usually it was pretty mild.  The lamb might be tied to a flag
pole or something similarly embarrassing.  The specifics weren't important
as long as there was an element of risk for the contestants.
   In Pip's version, if Rachel rescued Oliver in time, he would suffer no
humiliation.  But if she failed, his slaughter was particularly heinous. 
He would be turned into a live performance art piece for the rest of the
day.  Although the bag would hide his identity, the rest of his glorious
naked body would be enjoyed by all attending patrons.  As for the covering
rule, Pip's art department friends had the perfect solution: body paint.
   Oliver had been ordered to the aquatic center at 3:00.  There the
captains apprehended him and took him to the art department where he was
prepped to be Rachel's lamb.  His `costume' was not simple in the least and
required quite a bit of assembly.  Every element had a purpose, from the
color of his handcuffs to the towel right down to the sign stuck above his
head.  When they were finished, they left him with nothing to do but wait.
By the time his rescuer arrived, he had been standing there for over two
hours.
   Rachel was not prepared for what she saw when she turned around.  The
boy was naked.  That much she had predicted.  Whereas previously his she
couldn't see below the waist of his towel, she now saw chiseled abdomen
muscles that went all the way down to his bare privates.  His pubic hair
was completely shaved like hers; practically confirming that he was
somebody on the swim team.  He was well endowed with attractive anatomy
that hung heavy on his tall swimmer's frame.
   There were two unexpected abnormalities.  First was the color of his
privates.  They had been painted orange and black to look like a carrot;
complete with green testicles to represent the leafy top.  The second
abnormality was a tiny thread wrapped around everything in an intricate
spider web design.  It crisscrossed itself in many places, but concentrated
around the base of his penis where a black key hung.
   **That explains the title - The Carrot is the Stick.  So is that my key?
No, mine would be pink.  That key must fit something black...like, his
cuffs!
   When she made the connection she exclaimed "A-ha" without thinking.  The
outburst surprised them both.  The boy was obviously uncomfortable to be
naked in the same room as a female.  He struggled against his bonds and
blushed; obviously distressed about his lost towel.  The thread coiled
around the base of his organ had kept him semi-erect, but now before
Rachel's wide eyes he gradually grew to full length.
   If Rachel was attracted by his genitals before, she was positively
enamored with them now.  Getting to see his erect penis erased all
reservations she had about preserving his privacy.  She would happily stare
at that all day long.  Its function fascinated her like nothing else in
nature could.
   Eventually Rachel realized her mouth was hanging open and that she had
been staring.  She tried to swallow but her throat clamped shut and she
gasped for air.  Shaken out of her trance, she began to put the pieces
together, though her gaze remained fixed on his growing member the whole
time.
   **OK.  So there are three locks (including the blue one around his neck)
but only one key.  His fingers have been free this whole time but he
couldn't reach the black key because his hands were secured behind the
post. I have to get the black one off his p..ppp.penis and put it in his
hands.  I'm sure we could find some scissors or a knife in this mess to cut
my zip ties.
   **But what about my cuffs?  And where's the key for the lock around his
neck?  Of course, the wavy lines!  It's near water!  That must be the last
part of the challenge.  Once he's been freed we have to go back to the
aquatic center together to get the last two keys.  But he'll be blind so I
have to lead him.
   Rachel was wrong on a few minor points, but had the general idea close
enough.  She beamed thinking she had solved the riddle.  Then she
remembered that she was still responsible for retrieving the key from his
penis.  This time she was almost too eager to do her duty.  Before jumping
in, she briefly paused to wonder if he would approve of what she was about
to do.
   **If the roles were reversed, and I was completely unable to defend
myself.  Would I want him touching my pussy to retrieve something that
would free me?  If it meant saving me from a whole day of naked
humiliation, then, hell yes.  As long as he's just there to retrieve the
key and not molesting me or anything.
   **Am I going to enjoy touching it?  Sure.  But I'm not doing it for that
reason.  Just be quick and formal about it.  Grab the key and get out.  It
must be done!
   Rachel spun around.  Lining up her hands with the key, she slowly backed
into the naked lamb...TO BE CONTINUED
  
thornwood-ep4-part-16-20