Private School Ch. 05

Finally the writer broke the silence, by saying, "You're lucky, you know that?"

The expression on Heather's face changed. It looked more hopeful now. "Lucky how?" she asked.

"Two reasons," the writer said. "The first thing in your favor is that back when I was in my late twenties, I read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. In the book Victor Von Frankenstein takes a lifeless corpse...or maybe it's a collection of lifeless corpses that he sews together...and he brings it to life. It's the scientific accomplishment of the century, but Victor is horrified at how ugly his newly animated life-form is and he abandons it. I always thought that was one of the stupidest things ever, especially when you consider how his creation couldn't possibly have looked any worse dead than it did alive."

"So, you mean..," Heather began, but the writer interrupted her.

"So, that was the first thing in your favor. The second thing is that I was raised Catholic, and we Catholics are basically programmed to feel guilty about damn near everything that we do and everything that we fail to do. I left the Catholic Church years ago, but I still have a hyperactive guilt-response. Hell, I feel guilty when I'm accidentally late paying the phone bill."

"So, does this mean...," Heather began to ask again, but the writer interrupted her a second time.

"It means that I'm going to give you more of a chance than Doctor Frankenstein gave his creation. I'm going to get you out of this school and I'm going to make changes to your character and make you more likable."

Without warning, Heather changed across the room and hugged the writer. In her enthusiasm, she charged too hard and her momentum knocked the chair over and the chair, the writer and Heather ended up crashing to the floor in a loud, ungainly heap.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry," Heather apologized. "I didn't mean to do that! I'm just so grateful that I'm getting out of this school! It's been horrible here!"

The writer grunted and pushed Heather's naked, 118 pound body up and off of her. "Don't be overdramatic, Heather," the writer admonished. "Honesty, there are much worse things than being a student in this school. You should see what happens to the characters in Jim Butcher's books."

Then just as the writer regained her feet, the door opened and the uniformed security guard who had escorted Heather to the receiving room was standing there. "Is everything alright in here?" she inquired. "I heard a loud crash."

"Oh, we're just fine in here," the writer said. "You should probably run along," the writer added as she typed expeditiously at her keyboard. "I'm sure you've got important things to do today, what with this being your last day working at this school."

"Last day?" the security guard asked her face awash with confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about. "I don't plan on retiring for another..."

The writer paused in her typing and then looked up and made eye contact with the guard. A look of realization came over the guard's face and she exclaimed, "Oh my God! I'm sorry Miss, but you're on your own!"

Heather looked with bewilderment at the empty doorway and then at the writer who was once again typing away furiously at her keyboard. "What just happened?" Heather inquired.

"I'm shutting down the school," the writer replied. "One of the school accountants embezzled three million dollars from the general operating fund. They can no longer afford to pay any of the teachers, administrators, office staff or any of the school employees, so the school is going to shut down and all of the employees are leaving, just like rats deserting a sinking ship."

"Just like that," Heather asked.

"Just like that," the writer confirmed. "When you write fiction, you have that kind of control over the characters that you create."

The writer smiled and continued to type briskly at her keyboard. Heather tried to read over the writer's shoulder; however the writer held up one hand, palm facing Heather's face and waved her away.

"Don't stand so close," the writer admonished her. "I wouldn't want you to know all of my plans in advance. I'd like for some of this to be a surprise."

"But, the surprises are all good, right?"

The writer just gave Heather another enigmatic smile and went back to typing.

Heather was feeling a certain degree of uncertainty. There she was standing naked and vulnerable, just a few feet away from the only god she'd ever met and that god was now planning her future. She could be planning almost anything.

And while Heather was awash in a sea of uneasiness, the public address system shattered the relative calm in every room of the school.

"Attention, attention," the announcement began. "This is Ms. Stull from the main office. The following students need to report to front lawn of the school, as your parents are here to pick you up: Emily Ashton, Catherine Beck, Amy Busch, Cheryl Bush, Emily Busch, Samantha Chalke, Kacey Chase, Robin Chase, Jean Crane, Jessica Crane, Laurell Crane, Roberta Dresden, Cheryl Edgley, Megan Eccleston, Charlene Frank, Wanda Gellar, Jocelynn Hannigan, Megumi Ishimura, Cheryl James, Diana James, Michelle James, Kacey Jameson..."

Heather listened intently, waiting for her name to be called. There were at least fifty names called before they called out the name Heather Murdoch. When they called her name, she squealed with delight.

"So, I should go now?" she asked the goddess.

"Hey, that's what the announcement said," replied her goddess. "You're supposed to head on out to the front lawn."

"And my mother will be there to pick me up?"

"Well, why don't you head on out there and find out?"

Heather turned to go, giddy with anticipation, but then she looked back at the woman who had just altered reality and released her from this school. It was true; her goddess had stuck her in this horrible school in the first place; but somehow that didn't seem to be as important as being set free.

"Will I ever see you again?" Heather asked. She had never met a god before and it seemed unlikely that anything in her life would ever be as important or impressive or special as this.

"Probably not," the writer said as she paused in her writing. "I don't normally meet face-to-face with fictional characters."

"Should I be worshipping you?" Heather asked. "Praying to you? Is that something that you like? Do you require some sort of daily sign of devotion?"

"I'm not that kind of god," the writer insisted. "Now, get out of here. There's a car waiting outside to take you home."

"Can I at least get a hug?" Heather asked. "A real hug? Not a crashing-to-the-floor-and-knocking-over-your-chair-kinda-hug?"

The writer stopped typing and looked up at Heather. She rolled her eyes and made a sound of exasperation, but made a "come forward" sign with both hands and stood up so that she could hug Heather.

It was almost irrational, how strong an emotional bond Heather felt towards this writer-god, however she did free Heather from this school and maybe the mere fact that she was a god stirred up Heather's emotions anyway. Maybe being near a god is like inhaling fumes of some potent drug. Whatever the reason, Heather felt certain that she would treasure this moment for the rest of her life.

Heather pressed her naked body to the god's clothed body and held on tight. She felt a stronger emotional bond to this god than she had ever felt to any human being. She wished that she could introduce her mother to this god and devote her life to this god, but apparently that wasn't an option.

"Now go," the god commanded her after they broke from the hug. "They're expecting you outside."

Heather left the receiving room and made her way out into the hallways of her school. There were now hundreds of naked girls in the hallway, all of them gradually ambulating towards the exits. Heather had seen most of these students before; after all she'd been in this school for seven years. It would have been hard not to see her fellow students in that period of time.

But now, walking down the halls, rubbing elbows with her naked classmates and seeing scores of naked buttocks and naked thighs, she couldn't help but see them with a different mindset. Before she just saw her fellow students as other girls with a plight similar to hers, but she was actually noticing that some of these girls were quite attractive. For instance Michelle Moore had slender, athletic thighs and high, firm buttocks that seemed to be sculpted into a perfect shape. Heather liked the shape of Michelle's perfect thighs and buttocks so much that she pushed her way through the crowd of naked girls just so she could get closer to Michelle and keep her naked buttocks under surveillance. Heather was almost hypnotized by the movement of Michelle's Gluteus Maximus muscles as she walked; left, right, left, right, left, right; Heather was fascinated at the play of muscles every time Michelle took a step.

Heather had been so fascinated by Michelle's naked buttocks that when Michelle came to a sudden stop, Heather was unable to avoid walking into her and knocking both girls slightly off-balance.

"Sorry," Heather blurted out as she grabbed onto Michelle and tried to regain her footing.

"Heather," Michelle said when she realized who had bumped into her. "Can you believe what a day we're having? It looks like they're letting every student go home all on the same day!"

"Yeah, it's pretty amazing," Heather agreed. "Who would have thought it would ever happen like this?" Of course Heather knew exactly what was going on and why. The creator goddess who had created this school was now shutting it down. A simple act of embezzlement and suddenly the school couldn't afford to pay its expenses anymore. And since they couldn't afford to pay their electricity bill or their water bill or the salaries for their many employees, they had to close down and send their entire student body home.

"I think the school ran out of money or something," Heather said. And as she said it, her eyes were drawn to Michelle's breasts. Michelle's breasts weren't much larger than Heather's, however they were round and firm and perky and her nipples and areola were very, very pink. And the skin that covered her breasts was smooth and looked soft and touchable. Heather had seen Michelle's naked breasts many times before, but had never until just now noticed how perfect they looked. And just underneath her breasts and ribcage, she had a flat stomach and tight, flawless abs. Her body was perfect. Why; Heather wondered; had she never noticed before?

"Oh my God, it's happened to you too," Michelle exclaimed.

"What's happened?" Heather asked, somewhat taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"They've turned you gay," Michelle responded. "You're into girls now."

"No, I'm not," Heather protested. "I'm totally not!" Heather tore her eyes away from Michelle's naked body and looked Michelle directly in the eye. It was a nice effort, but Michelle's mind had already been made up.

"Heather, you were checking out my boobs just now. I mean it's totally okay. Most of the girls in this school go lesbian by their second year. I just didn't expect it would happen to you, because you were such a homophobe."

"Look, I'm not," Heather protested, "I mean, I shouldn't... I mean..." Heather stammered like that for a while, unable to complete a sentence and starting a new one each time her original sentence failed. Then she remembered that the writer-goddess had said there would some changes and that there would be some surprises in store for her. Was this one of the changes? Did the writer-goddess turn Heather gay?

"Look, I get it," Michelle said. "You've been locked up in this school for years and you haven't even seen a guy the whole time you've been here, but you've been surrounded by naked girls. And the teachers are constantly doing things to get you sexually aroused, like keeping us naked all the time and shaving our pubes and doing body cavity searches every day."

"But...but..," Heather protested, having difficulty with the prospect of being gay. Heather knew that the writer-goddess had the power to change anything and everything about her, and had she thought she already understood that and could handle that, but this wasn't just accepting it as an abstract theory, this was Heather accepting the blatant reality of checking out another naked girl and wanting to run her hands all over that girl's naked body. It was a very disquieting reality to just suddenly dump on a girl. It was especially distressing for somebody who had spent years harassing and bullying all of gay boys and gay girls in her hometown of Edina. It wasn't like she could ever be accepted by the gay community in her own hometown. They hated her there!

Then Heather noticed that she was trembling. Heather had even freaking suggested that the writer-goddess could make her gay, but she never guessed just how traumatic it might be if the writer-goddess followed through on that suggestion.

"It's okay! It's okay," Michelle said when she saw Heather trembling. "This has been a weird day for all of us. Maybe it's been even weirder for you." Just as she said this, Michelle held Heather close and gently ran one hand down the center of Heather's bare back. Heather's old homophobic instincts told her that she was naked and a naked girl was pressing her naked breasts into Heather's naked breasts and that she should push this naked girl away from her.

However, Heather's new instincts were telling her that the sensation of getting a nude hug from Michelle was quite pleasurable and she shouldn't do anything to ruin the moment.

"Heather, listen," Michelle said as she held onto Heather tightly, "My parents will be here any minute to take me back home, but I want you to call me if you have any questions or just need to talk. I've already gone through this and I should be able to answer any questions that you might have. I started off as a straight girl and now I'm totally addicted to...," there was a long pause as Michelle attempted to find the appropriate word to end that sentence and she finally ended it with "girls."

"I know there's a certain amount of guilt that comes from enjoying lesbian sex, but believe me when I tell you, there's nothing wrong with it. It doesn't make you any less of a woman."

Heather relished the feeling of having Michelle's naked body pressed against her own. Her skin felt warm and smooth and soft and despite the fact that she felt guilty for engaging in lesbian behavior, she was really enjoying the feel of Michelle's naked skin against her own naked skin.

And then, Heather's soothing, blissful moment was interrupted when an older woman's voice said, "Michelle, it's time to go."

Michelle broke from the embrace and there was an older woman standing beside Michelle. She held a small package in her right hand and said, "Michelle, say goodbye to your friend and get dressed. It's time to go home now."

"Sorry Heather," Michelle said softly. "I want to help, but I also really, really want to get home. I want to sleep in a real bed and take a real shower and I miss coffee and chocolate and..."

And then suddenly Michelle paused and said, "Where are my manners? Heather, this is my mother. Mom, this is Heather. She and I ... well, we were students here."

"I had already guessed that, dear," Michelle's mother said. "It's time to get dressed now."

Michelle's mother waved a packed that was wrapped in plain, brown wrapping paper. Michelle took it from her mother and unwrapped it, revealing shoes, a shirt-dress, belt, panties, a bra and stockings.

Heather stood by helplessly and watched Michelle get dressed. It was awkward getting dressed on the sidewalk with scores of naked students walking past, but Michelle still managed somehow. And Heather couldn't help but notice that even with her off-white shirt-dress, Michelle still looked drop-dead sexy.

"Oh, Mom, could you give Heather our phone number? I want Heather to be able to call me, but I've been locked up in this place for over two years now and I totally forget the number to our house."

"She won't be coming to visit, will she?" the middle-aged woman asked, obviously disapproving of Heather for some reason.

"That won't be a problem, will it?" Michelle said, answering a question with a question. "I mean, I'm still aloud to have friends over to the house, right?"

Michelle's mother glared at Heather and said, "Our area code is 410, and our telephone number is 224-41..."

"Could you write it down for her, Mom? Heather's memory isn't really all that great."

Heather blushed slightly at that. Her memory wasn't all that great. It was part of the reason that she got such poor grades in school. Why couldn't the writer-goddess have fixed that for her?

"Here," said Michelle's mom, handing Heather a piece of paper with a ten-digit phone number on it. "You don't by any chance live in or nearby Annapolis, Maryland, do you?"

"No ma'am," Heather replied timidly. "I live in Edina, Minnesota."

Michelle's mother did some mental arithmetic and breathed a sigh of relief. Edina and Annapolis were hundreds of miles apart and apparently far enough apart that Michelle's mother felt confident that Heather would never come to visit. Then the older woman led her daughter away and Heather was left standing naked on the sidewalk, with only a tiny piece of paper to call her own.

It was bizarre. Heather had been a classmate of Michelle's for over two years and she never once gave her a second thought, but now; after approximately two minutes of conversation and physical contact with her; Heather felt all empty inside and wondered longingly how long it would be before she could speak with Michelle again.

Heather gripped Michelle's phone number tightly in one hand and proceeded to walk through scores of naked girls and searched for any sign of her mother. She couldn't possibly call Michelle until she got to a phone, and she probably wouldn't find a phone until she got to her mother's house.

For the next twenty minutes or so Heather stood out there on the sidewalk and watched dozens of other naked girls were greeted by their parents and then watched as they were given gifts of clothing so that they could get dressed before being taken home. During that time several of the students stared at Heather's naked body in the same way that Heather had stared at Michelle's naked buttocks. Heather was shocked to discover that she was relishing the way that they looked at her. If they had gazed so openly and lustily at her naked body last week, it would have annoyed Heather profusely. However today, she actually found it to be rather exciting. It was something of a turn on.

That writer-goddess really had made some changes.

Just how seriously huge those changes were didn't become apparent until Heather heard a familiar voice call out, "Heather! Over here!"

Heather turned to her left and saw Tracy in her chauffeur's uniform. There was an initial moment were Heather froze and stiffened and clenched her hands into fists. Heather had come to truly hate and fear Tracy after Tracy's many visits to the school. The family chauffeur spanked her every time she came to visit Heather in the receiving room and was especially harsh with her spankings. Tracy never quit until Heather's ass was a hot pink sort of color and Heather was sobbing and shaking across Tracy's lap.

Heather's fear and hatred of Tracy very nearly caused Heather to turn her back and walk away from the chauffeur and into the crowd of students, but then something almost inexplicable happened.