Dorm Discipline: House Service

Sitting in the living room at the couch I heard somebody come in but paid no attention. P-values are tricky and if I get them wrong then my work will be for nothing.

I was startled by two arms sliding around me from behind, encircling my chest under my arms, kneading my pecs.

"H'lo lover!"

It was Alani!

I tipped my head up, saw her upside-down face overhead squinting at my work.

"What constitutes a meaningful result?"

"Sensitivity of the carboxylic acids to the use of Grignard reagent with CO2. The resulting ester is reverse-reacted with a base, and I measure..."

"The ratio of acid to anion. Hmm."

She caught on quick. So much smarter than me. I'd taken a semester to noodle out this particular sensitivity test; she'd grasped it in two sentences.

"Are you using a standard-deviation test? Or comparison of means? The P-value you want, depends on the particular sensitivity you measure. How many controls?"

I'd done half as many control experiments as reactivity runs, since their results were so stable and predictable.

"Ah! So you have to adjust the deviations for statistical distribution, before doing the comparison? Because of the smaller sample size?"

It was obvious to her; I nodded like I understood and resolved to crack my stats book again before making a fool of myself.

Meanwhile she rolled over the couch back, flopped on the cushions on her back, coming to rest with her head in my lap. All thoughts of P-values were put aside for some serious kissing time.

We broke after my tongue got tired, and I noticed my neck was sore from bending over her.

"Hey! Breakthrough with Preppy!"

She looked interested. "Did you fuck her again?"

Shook my head. "We visited Hippie Bitch's house, planning Fall Fling stuff."

Her eyes wide, "Did everyone behave themselves? Sparks?"

"Butch was there too. She can be a very stabilizing influence."

"So what did Preppy say?"

"She revealed why she had reacted so badly, had lashed out at HB, that's what they call her over there, HB."

"HB. HB. I like that!"

"So, some tears, hugs, more tears. Not healed but definitely learning to forgive each other, and more importantly, themselves."

A wide smile. "I'm so glad. They're both great women, deserve to be happy."

"They can find a way, now, with that out in the open. With some distance from the trauma.

"It was about control, of course. Preppy felt manipulated, pushed around, forced. In her own house! By a newcomer! It hit her hot button, hard."

Slut knew of Preppy's past, suspected many old hurts lurking under the surface.

"This changes things. Changes Wednesday night."

I nodded. "Maybe postpone? Call it off?"

She looked startled. "No! Double down! This is a chance to help her make real progress!"

I was floored. This stuff was very far from chemistry, my only area of expertise. And much harder.

She laughed, seeing my confusion, sat up, put her arms around me, looked me in the face.

"Trust me. This will be ok. What we'll do is, enlist her in the process. Tell her what we're going to do and why. So she can attend to her feelings, find those knots of pain, work them out."

"By pressing on them? Riling them up?" I was incredulous. But Slut mistook my confusion as understanding.

"Right! You have a jammed toe, you massage it, overwhelm the hurt with other sensations. Rewire the brain to attend to the pleasure instead of the pain. Then the pain can become just soreness, then heal."

If I didn't trust Slut so completely, I'd be panicking now. But she was so sure, so smart, so tuned into emotional reactions. I gave myself over to her entirely.

"Ok. So a lecture first, before we start."

Nodding. "We'll put our cards on the table. Like, instead of the safe word ending things, it'll just call time-out. So she finds another 'hot button' getting pressed she can regroup, process. Get her mental hands around the demon, throttle it. Then we continue to the next demon."

It sounded like some mad therapy scheme, a balls-to-the-wall est-style scream-out-your-hurt emotional roller-coaster. For some reason I was getting excited.

Slut noticed. "You horndog! You do have a Dom hiding in there somewhere. Fuck me quick; I have to get back to the computer center, run some of my bio software on their big machine."

She flipped her torn sweatshirt over her head, flinging it away. I was shy, uncertain about fucking in public, right in the middle of the house! But seeing those tits, that kind of melted away.

I squirmed out of my shorts, shoved my papers off the couch, went to slide down under her. She stopped me.

"On top. I want you to bang me like you own me, fast and furious. I need a screamer, get my head clear. This bio software is tricky, and I only have a one-hour window with the hardware."

I could do that. We started with her bent over the back of the couch, me behind, doggy, dick just stuck through a rip in her sweatpants. I started slow but she kept hollering 'Faster! Harder!'

So I really got into it, squeezing her hips hard, banging my pelvis into her butt, jamming my cock up her slot with all the force I could.

She was panting, thrusting back into me. Inspired, I twisted her hair in one hand, pulled her head back hard, cruelly.

"Ow! You bastard! Ahh. Ahhh! Pull harder! Shit!"

Thank god that worked! I might have been in real trouble there. She was bucking now, struggling against my hold on her hip, her hair, thrashing against my hammering.

"You cow! Take my dick! Take my cum! Cum-bucket! Mine to dump in! Slut! Slut!"

That was enough; she was cumming, I was cumming, jammed into her, feeling her vagina convulsing on me, jetting my cum into her, not stopping for a second but slamming into her until I had spent half a dozen times, no more cum to offer.

I released her; she slumped over the couch back, breathing hard, coming down. I sluuurped out of her, flopped against my thighs, still half-hard. That was awesome!

Three long breaths, then she popped up, turned, pecked me on the mouth.

"Thanks lover! See you at supper! Kitty is bringing Mexican! To celebrate!"

She got up, searched around for her shirt, confused. I pointed at the light fixture, where it had got caught. Jumping up she snagged it, getting my softening cock to jerk from the sight of those tits jiggling as she landed.

Slipping it on as she dashed into the hall to our room, came back with a box of tapes and a binder, she gave me another peck, headed out. A wide wet stain on the back of her sweatpants where our cum was leaking from her cooch. Typical Slut.

It took me more than a few deep breaths to recover. I picked up my scattered papers, fetched my stats book, settled in again.

Kitty was bringing Mexican? Oh! Kitten! Her little sister was due in this afternoon. I hoped somebody was picking her up? I didn't think Kitty would leave that to chance.

...

By the time folks started filtering back in near suppertime I had remembered to put my shorts back on. Want to make a good impression on the new girl! But not that kind of impression.

I heard the bike, then folks coming in. GG was glowing; so was Butch. Some rendezvous elsewhere? From the state of their goofy smiles I suspected as much.

Leon came in, welcome and comfortable, like a member of the house. Which I guess (s)he was by now, but didn't live here. A small distinction of no consequence.

I packed up, had enough stats for the day. By this time I'd re-learned enough to understand what Slut had said. Tomorrow I could apply it.

Preppy was next, back from study group, looking tired. Leon fetched a beer, popped the top, handed it to her. She received it gratefully, flopped down on the end of the couch, took a long pull. It had been an exhausting day!

Slut was a little later, bringing her computer gear, dropping it by the door. She grabbed a beer and mingled. I noticed a new stain on her pants, in the front. Must have been a desperately difficult computer program, needing to get twice-fucked to sort it all out. No problem; she had plenty of horny comp-sci undergrads to take care of emergencies.

Kitty came home last, carrying bulging plastic takeout bags. Following her, a young woman carrying even more bags.

"Hey everybody! Meet Kitten! Our house visitor! My sister!" She clued everybody in, maybe Leon didn't know the backstory.

Butch took the bags, all the bags, went into the kitchen to dish up. Very food-motivated, Butch.

GG stepped up, smiling, took Kitten by both hands, looked her over, moved in for a hug. Kitten was more than willing, gave as good as she got, snuggling in, hands on GG's butt, smiling broadly over her shoulder.

"You have to be GG! I've heard so much! We have to talk!"

Next Slut greeted her, went to shake her hand. Kitten ignored it, put her hands on Slut's shoulders, tipped her head up for a kiss. Slut obliged her, thoroughly, two hands on the back of her head, mashing lips, I believe some tongue. Ended by nuzzling her nose-to-nose.

"You're cute! And a nice armful!" Slut was pulling no punches, playing her alter ego to the max.

Kitten seemed thrilled to be accepted so readily, really excited to meet the legendary Meta Mu crew.

Leon put a beer down, stepped up. "Kitten? I'm so glad to meet you. Leon! Kitty has told me stories! I see you live up to them." Into a hug, more like siblings than anything, honest and welcoming.

A full head shorter than Slut, still taller than Kitty, something like Leon, the brown-haired girl was clearly a sister to Kitty. But different, lots different. Filled out, strong, bouncy. Full head of hair, obviously natural. Broader cheekbones, higher forehead. But the same nose, exactly, no missing that.

In style, nothing like Kitty. Peasant dress, embroidered. Actual flower in her hair. Painted nails, all different. Bindi dot on her forehead, though she looked nothing like Indian. Henna tattoos on both forearms. Barefoot, painted toes, real tattoo of something southwest on one ankle. Hairy arms, legs, a light down.

More like Hippie Bitch, to be honest! But more open, certainly friendly, totally non-judgmental from first impressions.

I was getting up to greet her but Preppy beat me to it.

"Kitten! We're going to be great friends! You're taking my old room! I'll show you everything after supper!" A European kiss, left-cheek, right-cheek, holding both hands, smiling.

"I'd love that, Preppy! Thank you! Wow, that outfit! I love those shoes! Mom has like 1000 shoes, she doesn't have those!"

Preppy raised a foot, showed off her pumps, grinning.

Now I knew Preppy had changed. Gone was the sneering snarky critical Preppy. She had every appearance of accepting Kitten as she was, no superior airs about new-age dress or lack of makeup. Just happy to meet her housemate's sister, genuine and comfortable.

My turn. Kitten looked me up and down, frowned, made a little pout. "I guess you must be Dick."

I nodded, a little taken aback. Did she have a problem with guys? Kitty had not mentioned it.

Her frown broke, turned to a broad smile. "We have to talk sometime! I want to go into chemistry, and you're the expert!"

Ok, she had been pulling my chain, teasing me. Not so different from her sister.

Did I have two super-annoying women to love now? Because Kitten was going to be easy to love, in a little-sister big-brother way. Her youthful enthusiasm was energizing.

"I'd be glad to. But be sure to get Slut's side of things. Biochemistry is a whole 'nother thing, she's the expert there."

"Oh I'm going to get into Slut's head, for sure!" Teasing again.

Sigh, smile.

"Soup's on!" This from Butch, sticking her head into the room. Holding a burrito in one hand, the size of my arm, a big bite out of it, sauce on her chin. Something brown in a cup in the other hand.

A general rumble as everybody headed for food. Monday was a long day for us, and getting fed was a real treat.

Passing Butch, "Burritos! Tostadas! Enchiladas! Carnitas! Horchata!" She was ecstatic. Took an enormous bite of burrito, smiled around the wad as she chewed, happy as a pig in mud.

She was not kidding. Every surface in the kitchen was loaded with takeout boxes, all the lids off, spoons and forks stuck where they were needed. A pile of burritos on that tarnished silver platter, stacked like a log cabin. A pile of paper plates, the silverware drawer open, plastic cups by a jug of whitish-brown murky liquid - the horchata?

I'd tried the carnitas the other day, so this time settled on a tostada camarones (shrimp!), an enchilada, half a burrito. Some of that horchata, turned out to be flavored, unlike the kind I'd had last time. Cinnamon? Explained the color.

We all parked in the living room, on the couch, on the floor, on the rug by the fireplace. Only the sound of eating for a while.

Kitten chose to sit on the floor by Butch on the couch. She ate slowly, mostly watching Butch eat, clearly impressed. Hero worship? Something like that. Must have heard stories, excited to meet the real deal.

It occurred to me, somebody was missing.

"Hey, GG? Haven't seen Adam lately. Where'd he get to?" I was genuinely missing him. He was a riot, smart and friendly and full of stories.

She was chewing, took a bit to answer. "Internship. In Boston, some big hospital. New program, emergency medicine, exposure for undergrads, weed out the faint of heart." She said all that around bites of those lovely carnitas. Not blaming her; this stuff was amazing.

"I don't imagine Adam will be weeded out."

GG grinned, shook her head No! while slurping the remainder of her horchata.

Preppy hopped up, spoke up. "Where is your stuff, Kitten? I can haul it to your room."

Kitten got up too, leaving a generous amount of food on her plate. Saw Butch look at it, at her. Picked up the plate, handed it to Butch with a timid smile, got a huge smile in return. Those two were going to get along fine!

"Out front; Kitty rented a car to help make this work." They headed out happily, chatting about skirts or some such.

Leon was collecting empty plates, cups, doing the tidying up thing. I declined, holding on to mine. Thinking about a second trip to the trough.

The two ladies returned, lugging two big suitcases. Butch jumped up, took the one from Kitten, led her and Preppy upstairs, bounding with that bag, the other two more slowly, still chatting.

"Butch seems nice!" I heard Kitten observe.

"She is a treasure!" Interesting, I had little idea what the relationship between those two was. Nice to hear a positive vibe.

"You pull a muscle, strain something, Butch can put you right in a jiffy! Physical therapy wonk, knows all the right moves. Loves to have somebody to practice on..."

Their voices receded upstairs.

Kitty was looking pleased, finishing her microscopic plate of supper, nibbling at a quarter of a tostada. Saw me looking.

"I told you she was a peach!" Kitty was as happy as I'd seen her. Dressed in some school-girl outfit, suitable for airports I suppose. Clodhopper shoes, wool skirt with blazer, some goofy emblem of a unicorn on the breast pocket.

Nothing under the skirt; I'd seen her pussy flash as she sat cross-legged on the floor. Outrageously brief lacy shirt, barely a tank top, tight and scandalous. Her modest breast obvious through the negligible cloth, tiny side-boob showing through the arm holes. The blazer could be buttoned to make it family-friendly I imagine.

I agreed. "Maybe I can help her settle in?"

"Don't bother. Those girls are bonding; lets leave them to it."

Seemed sensible. And carnitas were calling to me.

...

They came down later, the crowd thinned, the leftovers packed away in the fridge. Leon was upstairs with GG, talking shop or something. I was watching something pointless on the TV, Kitty had selected it. Some girly dating show, full of fashion and gossip. I didn't mind; the girls were cute anyway. And I certainly could learn more about relationships, so I didn't constantly embarrass myself in front of Slut.

"The floorboard creaks right in front of the door!" This from Preppy, giving Kitten the downlow on house secrets. "You want to sneak in late, sneak a boyfriend into your room, you have to stand next to the door, big step over the threshold!"

Kitten laughed, charmed by the thought. She had changed from her traveling clothes. Now she had on comfortable at-home clothes, a halter top tied somewhere under her hair, tiny tiny shorts, bare legs and feet. Some flower transfer tattoos on the back of one hand.

Preppy had a transfer tattoo too! Imagine that. Doing girly things with the younger sister member of the house. Regardless of the impact on her perfect groomed image. I liked this new Preppy more and more.

"The window opens, but sounds like you're murdering somebody! I just prop it open with a tin can when I'm there alone.

"The radiator comes on but squeals and bangs for the first half hour. You want it warm, maybe turn it up early so it can get all the complaining out before you try to sleep!"

Kitten was again charmed, laughed, her eyes crinkled up in the cutest way. Cute in a whole different way than Kitty. Gonna do well in college.

"Everybody settled?" I asked in my RA capacity.

Preppy nodded. "They helped me move my stuff into the double. That bed! So big! Room for a party!"

Kitten giggled, still new at the college sexy talk.

"It's nice! So vintage! I see why you love this place." That from Kitten.

Butch was just beaming, following the conversation but chill, content. All-you-can-eat Mexican plus cute new housemate seemed to agree with her.

They settled around the room, happy to watch the silly TV with us, commenting occasionally about some clothes or clever repartee. Butch mostly looking at the others, alert and aware to the personalities in the room, at ease. GG and Leon eventually came down, joined us.

When it was over Kitten asked GG shyly about her piercings. A favorite topic, GG was only too happy to show them off. The industrial ear rods; the nose hook. The eyebrow rings.

Each was removed, displayed, then the piercings examined closely, Kitten touching her holes tentatively, feeling the gaps. When GG stripped off her shirt to show those outrageous nipple bolts I knew Kitten was fitting in, accepted completely, privy to the intimate details of Meta Mu householders.

Kitten touched the bolts with a look of wonder, looked at GG, got permission. She unscrewed them, slid them carefully out, carefully maneuvering the threads through the tender flesh, marveled at them. Touched GG's nipple holes gently, stroking, then boldly sticking her tiny finger through, tugging slightly, testing their resilience. GG was tolerant, smiled at her timid curiosity.

GG got up, got some bottle from the mantle over the fireplace, sat, showed Kitten. It was apparently some wax or oil, something to make piercings slide in without friction. Kitten learned to lubricate the bolts, spread the fluid with her fingers, screw the iron rods gently in without abrading, re-attach the fitting. Marveling at the whole process. Learning at warp speed, dumped into the deep end of college lifestyle choices. Adapting splendidly!

When she got to the clit screw I made myself scarce. I knew all about it, my dick had got scratched by it. But I didn't want to stare, make anybody uncomfortable. Let them bond, explore without a guy lurking, ogling.

And I would have a hard time not ogling. Somehow little Kitten touching GG's privates was terribly intimate, provoking. Now that she was all but naked, bare-chested, bare butt with shorts around her knees, my body responded as it always did when GG and I were naked together. In these board shorts that was vigorously obvious.

Slut was in her attic, doing daily watering chores. I left her to it, didn't need me horning around. She'd come down if she needed cuddling. Fetching my research from the pile by the door, I retreated to my room.