Geek's Revenge Ch. 03

"Oh, you will earn it, I promise. But I'm enjoying it too. What's next on the agenda?"

"Humiliations, galore!"

"Oh, good, the hardcore lesbian sex was starting to get boring. Mind if I get her to suck me off again?"

"I'm counting on it. Let's see how she if she works well in a group."

When Carla came out it was clear she had freshened up her buzz and splashed water on her face. She held up her purse – "two minutes for a smoke?"

"Take four," Bev said. "I'm feeling generous."

"Great, thanks." While she dug them out of her pack, I decided to stoke the fire in Bev's eyes a little.

"So, Carla, I was telling Bev here about how we went to the same school and all. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah, a little. I never expected to see you all rich and shit. You were always just whazhisname's Cooper's little brother. A little nerd boy. Hah! Go figure you had a computer for a brain. Dotcoms and stuff, you said? A million dollars? And a decent sized dick. Wow. Blows my mind."

"Yeah, actually, more than a million. But that's beside the point. I was curious, you were a bit of a bitch back in high school. Were you as evil to the girls as to the boys?"

"Oh, you guys just got rejected. We went after the girls, kept them in line. Bunch of whiney little bitches, always trying to be like us, dress like us and be our friends. What a bunch of whining cunts! 'Carla, be my friend,' 'Carla, will you come to my party?' God, you thought that just because I borrowed a tampon from some of them that I should name my first child after them or something. They were good for homework, though. I used to get that little blonde cunt, Leslie, you remember? The chick with the really fat thighs and the flannel fetish? Yeah, I used to copy off of her papers in Spanish. She didn't really want me to, but I sat with her at lunch one day and she wanted to be my best friend after that." With that she stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and sighed. "Okay, what do you want to do next?"

"More suckage, I think, while Bev here plays with you again." Carla groaned. But she dropped to her knees like a good whore and opened her lips, which were now swollen to the point of being distended.

So I relaxed into another languid blowjob, while Bev brought out her vibe again and went to work on Carla. She jumped at first contact – her vagina was probably more sensitive than her swollen lips – but it felt good on my dick when she jumped.

Bev and I had an intense but silent moment over Carla's back, a moment when we locked eyes and grinned at each other. Then she started to work her little hand into Carla's twat, which caused her to groan pleasantly around my cock. Once Bev was fisting her in a nice rhythm, she whispered to me, "hold her head!"

I nodded and started stroking Carla's hair, encouraging her to move with my hand. Nothing forceful, just gentle guidance . . .

. . . until Bev suddenly shoved her entire eight inch toy up Carla's asshole in one smooth motion. Carla screamed around my dick as she was sodomized. She tried to jerk back, but my gentle grip was now iron hard, holding her where she was.

It's interesting having someone scream while you are balls-deep in her mouth. The sensation was pleasant, right up to the point where she bit me a little in her struggles. I felt a twinge of guilt – just a twinge, mind – that poor Carla was suffering. And then I remembered Leslie.

Leslie Howard was the geek'd geek. She didn't shave her legs or wear skirts or any of the typical girl shit. She didn't play in any of the horrible high school politics. She was killing time until college, and she had few real friends. But she was a nice girl, pleasant, not particularly attractive. And she loved the outdoors – to the point where she spent her summers at Biology camps, learning natural history and stuff. She knew more about chlorophyll when she was sixteen than most people know in a lifetime.

And the Bitch squad hated her. Oh, I remember Carla's lunch with her. The two sat together, "studying", in one corner of the lunch room. When the rest of the Bitch Squad saw that, they took umbrage – a word they couldn't spell between them – and verbally attacked Leslie on the spot. They reduced her to tears, made her run out of the cafeteria and skip school the rest of the day. I don't know what exactly was said, but all the geeky girls were pissed about it. And Leslie was never as pleasant again after that.

So I grabbed Carla's hair and fucked her face like it was the last time. I worked out some serious aggression. So did Bev, who started biting her asscheeks while simultaneously fisting and butt-fucking her. It wasn't long before I spilled another torrent down her throat.

We did a number on Carla that night, and Bev worked out her frustrations through Senior year, and maybe the first few weeks of college. The high point had to be the fourth time she was riding Carla's lips, when she looked down and with scorn revealed who she was and why she was being so harsh. Carla's eyes lit up with memory, and she even tried to stop her oral duties, but Bev would have none of it. She grabbed my belt and started lashing lightly at her thighs until Carla got back to work.

When she left at about 4 a.m., I tucked ten hundred dollar bills in her hand. She left without a word. Her face was so puffy from Bev's thighs that it was almost unrecognizable as the same woman who came to our hotel room. Her lips were so raw that she couldn't quite speak right. I don't even want to think about how she felt below the belt.

Bev, on the other hand was positively glowing. As she treated me to breakfast at a local waffle shop about dawn, she stretched and cackled. The fulfillment of a childhood dream had been as rewarding to her as it had to me.

"I'm in your debt, Coop, over and above our agreement. That was simply the most fucking fun I've had in five years. It was probably worth two solid years of therapy, alone. Thanks."

"No problem. You don't have a problem paying for it?"

"I'd pay twice as much for it, honestly. Besides, you tipped her?"

"Three hundred, yeah, why?"

"Well, the little whore earned it. But I wasn't quite done with the abuse. So I called her pimp while you were in the bathroom, thanked him, assured him of our future business, and mentioned that Carla was so good we tipped her five hundred."

"But that means . . ."

"That means that when she got back and he demanded a cut, she was short. With no way to make it up. And he's not going to like that."

I stared at her for a moment. "God, you're a bitch."

"And fiercely proud of it. Pass the syrup?"