S.C.A.T. College Bk. 01 Ch. 02

Chapter 2:

"Ugh," Sam exclaimed, as the last vestiges of blessed unconsciousness faded.

The sun was peeking around the edges of her pull-down blind, and as she rubbed her eyes, she tossed the sheets aside with her feet. Looking down at her nude body, perky tits and smooth shaven pussy, firm and toned stomach, long, smooth legs, she smiled. She stretched and scratched at the side of one of her breasts, then sat up, swinging those legs over the side of the bed.

She had found that burger joint, a late night diner not two blocks from the college, that had been mostly empty and with a cute as hell girl behind the till. She had stared at the tight ass of that eighteen year old with fiery red hair the whole time she had been devouring what they called "The Monster," a double patty cheese and bacon burger with fried onion rings, pickles, coleslaw, and a bunch of other things. She had washed it down with a decently good homemade soda that the diner served, but when the bill came, she had smiled even wider.

I think you're cute too, my cute ass-admirer.

So, as she stood and started to do her limbering stretches, she couldn't help but feel her slit get a little wet as she imagined what tugging all the clothes off of Maggie the Diner Girl would be like Wednesday night, when they had set their date.

As she bent over, she felt more than heard a little fart escape, causing her to grin. It had been almost a year since she had released onto someone, the last time being a fellow Navy girl she had gone on liberty with. They had sworn secrecy, and Sam had even let the girl piss on her shirt first, sticking the thin white fabric to her bra-less breasts, letting the warm liquid pool in her mouth before she swallowed the sweet tasting piss.

At the thought, Sam's bladder cramped slightly, and she moaned in a low, sensual tone.

"Fuck, Sam," she whispered, running her hands up her legs as she stood, tracing the outline of her labia. "You and your nasty, piss filled cunt."

Her bladder twitched in response, and she sucked in a little pant of air as she ran a finger over her clit, pressing it slightly. She sat back down on the edge of the bed, leaning back and holding herself up on an elbow as she lifted both legs up, bracing her feet on the bedframe as she spread her knees as far apart as she dare without letting her bladder go.

Sam gasped and closed her eyes as she rubbed at her clit, her finger moving faster and faster over the nub as her bladder began to beg for release. She tensed her stomach and pelvic floor, at the same time pushing on her bladder as well as squeezing her urethra closed. She felt the pressure build as she took her whole hand and rubbed across her clit furiously, slicking her skin on the creamy wetness that was seeping from her.

She started to pant, gasping as the waves of pleasure soared through her nerves, causing her to shiver with the joy of it. It had been so long since her last proper release, and she threw her head back, gritting her teeth as she fought to hold off the rising temperature inside her, the wave after wave of pleasure demanding a release, the thought of standing, as naked as she was now, over Maggie the Diner Girl, pissing on her cute little diner uniform as she kissed and licked her way up her inner thigh before looking up at her, smiling, as her tongue plunged into her wetness...

"OhmyGAWD!" Sam bit her lip to stop from screaming it too loudly, but suddenly her entire body tensed, then it felt like every muscle in her cramped all at once as her clit sent out a nuclear blast of pleasure. She flopped back on the bed, back arched, pelvis thrusting hard into the air as she released, a little squirt of wetness splashing out across the floor as she opened her mouth to scream, but only a high pitched squeal emerged.

She shuddered, her muscles spasming on their own as she moaned loudly, her legs seeming to lose all energy, her feet slipping off the bedframe to crash on the floor. She squirted again, not sure if it was her cumming or if it was piss, and at the moment, it didn't matter. All she could think about was Maggie, furiously fingering her pussy, kissing her deeply, her free hand cupping and massaging at Sam's breasts, her hot, wet breath against her neck as she nuzzled and kissed.

"...F.... FUCK!" Sam finally screamed, a second wave of the orgasm ripping through her, and this time she knew that she was losing control of her bladder. She grabbed her water glass from the small end table of the bed, and put it between her legs just in time as she came again, squirting yellow piss into the glass. Her eyes almost rolled back as she lost control, and the sound of a glass filling with liquid sent her over the edge again, her nerves by this point so on fire with pleasure that she nearly dropped the glass. She thanked whatever administrator had decided to leave the floors as nicely laminated concrete, as she just about managed to set the glass down before she slipped forwards off the bed, spreading her knees, her labia with two fingers, and tossed her head back as she simply released.

The warmth of her urine around her feet, the sound of it splattering off the floor and the sound of water hitting water sent another shock through her nerves, so much so that she cried out in pleasure again, gasping in joy. She sat there until her bladder was empty, the last dribble escaping her soaked pussy before she fell forwards onto her knees, landing in the decent puddle she had made. She breathed hard, gulping air as if she had been swimming on the bottom of the ocean and had just surfaced.

She smelled the slightly acidic but sweetly sick smell of her piss, licking her lips at the thought of dominating someone with it again someday. Opening her eyes, she picked up the glass of piss, still as warm as her body, and with a smile brought it to her lips. She winced, as she always did, at the first taste, which was always a touch sour, but soon her urine was washing down her throat as she tilted the glass more, swallowing her liquid waste. She finished it off, licking her lips, before she slumped down, a shiver of aftergasm passing through her.

With a sigh, she slapped her stomach lightly, and after a moment, belched. She wanted to lie down in her piss, roll around it in, wash it over her body, but she knew that if it stayed around much longer it would start to leave behind a smell, so with a heaved sigh, she stood, let out another long, wet-sounding burp with a smile, then trotted out to the bathroom and grabbed the paper towels and mop from behind the door.

She smiled in a warm glow as she got to work, the release of finally having an orgasm after a week filling her with a wild energy. She started to sing and dance as she cleaned, doing a pirouette with the mop after soaking up as much piss as she could, dancing to the bathroom and washing it out under the bathtub tap. She did a dirty dancing slide back out into the common area, doing a bad attempt at a moonwalk back into her room, sliding down to her knees in the last bit of her piss, wailing on an air guitar before wiping up the last of her mess with paper towels.

She showered with the mop in the tub, continuing to sing with renewed energy, going down a list of her favorite songs that she at least knew the words to. After scrubbing, she worked away on her hair, making a shampoo mohawk and giggling as she washed it out.

As she let the hot water course down her face as she got out a gentle scrubber and exfoliated it, the only thing that could lift her mood any higher would be to actually fuck a girl, either with her fingers or with her feeldo. She smirked at the thought, planning on making Maggie that girl as soon as possible, especially in that 1950s lesbian-radar hit of a diner uniform, with the cute little white serving apron...

After toweling off, including making sure she dried between her legs, she quickly styled her hair, needing only a tiny bit of mousse to give it a little bounce, before dancing, nude and warm, back into her room to dress for the day. With it being early in the morning, she was going to go explore Atlanta, finally, and checking the forecast, she chose her knee high chunky heeled goth boots under jeans with fashionably torn holes over the thighs and knees, a loose, metal band t-shirt, with her leather half jacket, which only reached her mid-back, over top and undone.

One of the things she loved about having jeans was that she actually had pockets, slipping her smokes, with the lighter in the pack, in one front pocket, her phone in the other, and her wallet on a chain in her right ass pocket. She picked out her spike-studded belt, slipping it through the wallet chain strap, and did it up loosely.

A quick line of eyeliner on both bottom and top, a light, almost pink skin-tone lipstick, a touch of gloss, and one brush of blue-purple eyeshadow that teased, but didn't shout, and she cocked her hip at herself in the bathroom mirror.

"You're one badass bitch," she smiled to herself, before grabbing her keys off the sink counter and dancing out the door, still bopping along in her head to her favorite songs.

--------------

It had been an eventful day.

Sam smiled as she rode in the back of the bus that was headed back to the college. The sun was still up, it was still a warm afternoon, but a breeze was now blowing in from the Gulf, warm and humid, perfect for a country girl like her. She had a little giggle at herself, imagining herself redheaded, freckled, leaning against a handmade wood farm fence in tight jeans, a tied off plaid shirt, a cowboy hat with a stalk of wheat in her mouth. Of course, being her, she couldn't imagine cowboy boots, so substituted her chunky knee highs that she wiggled her feet in.

Looking back over the day, she had visited a couple of museums, found a nice little spot in Western Atlanta, about a 20 minute bus ride from the college according to her phone, where there were little cafes and a couple bistros, perfect for a noon iced coffee and muffin. Of course, the coffee was doing its usual thing to her stomach, the gurgle in her intestines bringing a slightly twisted smile to her face, happy memories floating in her mind of naked men and women under her ass as she vacated those same bowels.

She had visited the Delta Flight Museum, after serving in the Navy and having seen F-18's flying CAP the one time when the missile destroyer she had been on had worked with one of the supercarriers. It was more civilian oriented, but was still quite interesting and she had learned a few things along the way.

Afterwards, she had wandered around, guided by the little "Get To Know Atlanta!" webpage she had found a couple of weeks ago. Dressed as she was, she had garnered quite a lot of male attention, but she had simply ignored them. She had received a very appreciative look from a woman at a construction site that had been built like a brick shithouse and had a tight, definitely lesbian haircut, and she had accidentally on purpose dropped a piece of paper with her number on it through the fence near her.

When she had looked back after walking on, while lighting a smoke, the woman, with a beautiful face above her muscular body, had smiled widely at her, sticking the paper in her coveralls pocket. Sam had exhaled her lungful, then winked with a kiss in the wind. Maggie, and now Buff Construction Dyke. If she wasn't careful, she might start to try to form a harem!

Giggling to herself at the thought, she drew a quick glance from the old lady across the row from her, who just shook her head with a roll of her eyes. She was used to being judged, however, so it didn't affect her. When you have purple hair in an undercut over the side of your head, wearing a black jacket with studs, a studded belt, torn jeans, and a metal shirt, you got stares and instant judgment.

She was drawn from looking at the nice older buildings of Atlanta flowing by when her phone let out a happy little ding! Looking down at it, she didn't recognize the number, but she opened it anyways.

Hey gorgeous thing. You dropped me that note earlier today. I'm Laura.

She smiled, then quickly tapped in her reply with lightning fast thumbs.

What do you mean, gorgeous?! You're the beautiful one! If your forearms and biceps in that tight as fuck shirt are anything to go off of, you're gorgeous-er!

After a few seconds, a laughing emoji icon was sent back, and then the three dots that meant a message was being typed in wiggled in the lower left of the screen. Sam looked up again, realizing that her stop was coming up as she saw the main buildings of the college in the distance. She pocketed her phone and stood, pressing the button on the handrail for the next stop.

After she had hopped off, she took a deep breath through her nose, then felt her pocket vibrate. Then vibrate again. She started walking down the sidewalk to the main gate of SCAT College, a name that had made her grin more than once, while fishing out her phone. She opened the latest messages.

And nearly tripped over her own feet.

Apparently, Laura really liked her, because the messages were Don't tell anyone, I want to show you something.

And then a selfie, obviously in a work truck, of her coveralls down and her shirt way, way up. And she was not wearing a bra.

Her chest was broad and muscular, with toned and defined pectorals under breasts that must have rivaled Sam's own in size. She was flexing with one arm, her bicep massive and peaked, her shoulders defined with very little fat on them. She could see the ridges of a six-pack peeking from the coveralls, and Laura was using her other hand to pull her breast up to her stuck out tongue, licking her own nipple.

"Fuck," Sam said under her breath, still staring, "Me."

You have no idea what that picture is doing to me, she tapped in quickly, already feeling herself starting to soak her panties. She put the phone away, lit a cigarette, and hurried through the main gate and almost broke out into a jog to her dorm building, puffing away as she went so she would have the nicotine buzz still flowing through her by the time she got to her room.

She took the steps up two at a time, drawing a look from a couple of girls going down the stairs who giggled after she passed. It didn't matter to her, she quickly walked to her dorm on the top floor, shoved her key in the lock, and twisting it, opening the door.

"Oh!" the girl in the room jumped, hand over her chest. "Y-y-you scared the shit out of me!"

Sam stood there for a full second, a What the fuck are you doing in my dorm?! look on her face before she noticed the small pile of moving boxes and rubbermaid tubs that were neatly stacked by the door to the other bedroom.

"Sorry!" the girl said shyly, wiping her hands on her pants despite them being spotless. She walked over and held one out. "I...I-I-I'm Joanna Hollister. Your roomie."

Sam's brain nearly exploded.

First Maggie, then Laura, and now before her stood a girl that, in her own highly subjective opinion, was as cute as fuck. Even the way she stuttered, which Sam had picked up on right away, was cute. Long, straight brown hair to her mid back, a rounded face with gorgeous big green eyes behind stylish, just-a-hint-too-big wireframe round glasses. Her smile showed white, almost perfect teeth, her lips glossy but without lipstick. She was a touch shorter than Sam, but her shirt did zero, zip, nada, not a fucking thing about hiding the massive melons she was lugging around on her chest. They had to be at least 36 or 38 DD, E or F. She wore what looked to be yoga pants, that hugged her legs and hips and everything nicely, showing the very start of an outline of her...

"Umm..."

"Oh!" Sam started, taking the extended hand and gripping it firmly. "Samantha McCoy, but seriously, call me Sam."

"Sorry to have s-surprised you. After I had signed in, they gave me the key and my aunt and her partner helped me carry up the b-boxes. They're already probably halfway out of the c-c-c-city by now, they live in Birmingham."

"You sound both relieved and terrified by that. By the way, where is home for you?" Sam put on a disarming smile, closing the door and sitting on the small couch that was part of the common area of the dorm. She leaned down and pulled up her pants legs to undo her boots, catching Joanna watching with a little bite of her lower lip before she realized that she had been asked a question.

Well well well, Sam smiled inside her head. Looks like she likes girls... or boots, at least.

"Oh, um... Idaho, and yeah... I d-don't get along w-well with my aunt's b-b-boyfriend" she hid her lip bite with a big smile as Sam looked up.

"Wow, you're a long fucking way from home," Sam admitted, before holding her hand to her lips. "Sorry, don't know how you are about swearing?"

"It doesn't bother me, and, uh, you can c-call me Anna," she laughed, coming over and sitting in the armchair the was off to the side of the couch and facing it slightly. "My mom, though... eesh, she never c-called my by that. J-j-joanna, do this. J-joanna, do that. Juh-juh-joanna, why isn't this done. I k-kinda hate my full name, it's also r-really hard to say with a stutter!"

"You know I'm going to have to ask..." Sam said after chuckling at Anna's little joke.

"My s-stu-stutter?" Anna fought to get the word out, but her smile didn't drop. "I don't m-mind. It's just something I've a-a-always h-had since I can remember, and honestly, as long as I don't get c-caught on a word, I barely even notice it anymore."

Sam nodded in sympathy as she unzipped a boot, catching the small glance downwards towards them. Smirking a little, she decided to test a little theory she had just formed...

"You like 'em?" she asked, pulling the boot off and slowly, teasingly zipping it back up, the sound echoing in the hollow shaft.

"Oh!" Anna blushed instantly. "Um, yeah. T-they're nice. They l-l-look nice. They are nice. I'm b-b-buh-babbling!"

Anna buried her face in her hands as she blushed furiously.

"What size feet are you?"

The question seemed to catch her off guard, as she looked at Sam as if she had said the sun was made out of ice cream.

"Feet. Size. What?" Sam repeated with a smile.

"Oh!" Anna exclaimed. "Um, 7."

Sam put a little naughtiness into her smile.

"Perfect, I'm a 7 too," she almost purred. "Wanna try them on?"

Sam took the time while Anna looked at her as if she had grown a second and third head to unzip the other boot and pull it off. She held it out to her roommate, who took it gingerly as if being handed the Mona Lisa itself.

"I... have a bit of a thing for b-buh-boots, I think you'll see," Anna said almost reverently. "Although all mine are ankle and maybe a c-couple of calf boots, and some Doc Martens. But I could never afford a good, proper knee high like this..."

"Go ahead," Sam said, leaning back on the couch, smiling genuinely. "Put 'em on."

She watched as Anna set the boot down, toe outwards, wiggled her toes above it for a moment, before taking a breath and sliding her foot down into the boot. She stomped the heel gently to settle her foot in, unknowingly making Sam just a little wet, before leaning down and doing up the zip over her leggings.

Sam surreptitiously ran a hand over her clit as Anna looked down to unzip the other boot, then put it on. After doing it up, she looked up at her with a smile, and pushed off to rise to her feet.

"Oh wow," she said, walking around the room in Sam's boots. "These feel so much... different!"

"Strange having that tightness around your calf all the way up to the knee?"

"Yeah!" Anna did a little twirl, then grinned and did a hilariously bad attempt at one of those magazine ad poses. "And the way they just hug your feet..."