Schadenfreude

Dole looked down at himself, his face bright red. He was a mess, totally humiliated. I was beginning to learn that, for a man as insecure as Dave Dole, clothes were armor. Take them away, and he stood awkward as a plucked turkey. I settled in at a new angle on the bench. "I think," I began, low and grave, "I know why you instead of them." I waited until he looked back up at me with stricken eyes. "It's because you're weak."

He flushed, the redness of righteous indignation just a shade darker than the redness of embarrassment.

"Weak," I went on briskly, "and too scared to say no." I shrugged. "The whole school saw you dancing with her. Shit. A man who'd dance with Lucy Marsh in public? He'll fuck her every time." I shook my head. "It's a wonder I'm the only one who found you." Something occurred to me. "Or was I?" He'd been munching on her slit for awhile before I'd shown up and gotten myself off. Who's to say someone else wasn't already upstairs, blabbing. I saw terror in his dark eyes as he thought about that. "Oh yes, Mr Dole," I murmured. "You're deep, deep down in a huge pile of shit here."

For the first time, he glanced at the floor. His forehead wrinkled. "Where'd my suit go?"

I was ready. "Your suit? Lucy took it." I shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Actually, I never saw your suit. You've got your socks, though..."

"Jesus Christ!" The magnitude of the crisis began to gnaw at him. "What did you do with my clothes?"

"Calm down, Mr Dole. The clothes are gone. You're just a sad little naked man, and now we're going to have to figure out how to get you out of here." I grinned and arched an eyebrow. "Want me to help you with that?"

He glared at me warily, then opened his mouth to say something. He shut it again once he saw the gleam in my eyes. I was no ally of his, but I was all he had. "How?"

I laughed and zoomed in on his white face. "I think you should just go for it. Let it all hang out. Go on up there in the nude and prance that butt of yours across the dance floor for all to see. Head up, shoulders back, dick swinging." I was cracking up now. "You'll be famous forever in Seaborne Memorial High School lore. Might even ask Lucy for another dance while you're at it," I snickered. "That would show her."

He frowned. "I'm not sure that's a solution, Beth."

"Why not? It would be epic. It'd be like one of those bachelorette party videos, with the nude guys bumping on the hot chicks with their clothes on?"

"No, Beth."

"Then come up with something better." I zoomed back out. "I meant what I said. This isn't unicorns and ice cream for you here. You're in seriously deep shit."

"I know." He looked dejectedly down at his traitorous penis. "Can, uh, can you stop filming me?"

"As long as you ask nicely," I replied at once. Fuck this guy. He was pissing me off now. This coward had given me a C! "Maybe even beg."

His dark eyes narrowed against my green ones. I raised my brows innocently and kept right on filming. "You're serious?"

I winked. Things were starting to occur to me, some of them very dark. "I think I know of a way to help you escape, too," I mused. "But yeah, you'll need to beg. And be nice to me when you do it."

"Jesus." He hung his head again. "What did I ever do to you?" he muttered, falling to the floor with a distaste I could almost smell. His naked body looked interesting as it moved, and suddenly it struck me: this was maybe the very first man I'd ever seen totally naked, at least in full, harsh fluorescent lighting. Most of my guys had screwed me in the dark, or in cars, or partially clothed; there'd been Kenny, though, who'd been proud of his dick and who enjoyed lounging around with his clothes off, but standing up is different from lying down. Besides, I'd only fucked Kenny twice. Bedside lamp, too; this was new, and very interesting.

I was finding out that the nude male in motion was a thrilling thing.

Mr Dole's knees hit the dirty tile. I felt my mouth go obscurely dry as I saw him assume the position, looking sad and vulnerable despite the hatred in his eyes, and as my vagina started to get vaguely twitchy again I began to understand why girls like Lucy let themselves be alone with assholes like this. I sighed, and he saw it; his hatred deepened, but I didn't care. I made sure he was centered in my phone, then looked back into his eyes. "Remember," I said quietly, "be nice." I thought about making him crawl; the thought gave me a fiendish thrill.

He scowled. "Beth," he began slowly, breathing hard, "would you please stop filming me, and then help me get to my car?"

"Maybe." I made sure my fingers weren't obscuring the phone's tiny mic. "Tell me what you did first."

He stared in disbelief. "You know what I did."

"The camera doesn't," I pointed out smoothly, and his mouth fell open. I snapped my fingers. "Come on," I urged, channeling my inner Lucy; I grinned widely as I added, "chop chop."

Sheer disgust in those eyes now. "I slept with Lucy Marsh," he blurted.

"You fucked Lucy Marsh."

"I fucked Lucy Marsh," he agreed. "I fucked her in a public bathroom during the prom." I noticed later, as I watched the video with Heidi, that his dick twitched when he said that. Odious man.

"Look at the camera," I purred. "Did you do anything else?" It was definitely horning me up, having this kind of power over this impotently vengeful naked guy.

"I came inside her," he went on sullenly, almost woodenly. "I also licked her... her vagina."

"Her cunt." I had to keep myself from moving a hand to my own crotch. "Say it."

"Her cunt," Dole snapped savagely. "I licked her cunt." His venomous stare at my phone made me shiver.

"Did it taste good?" I demanded, wondering just how far I could make him go. I expected to see steam coming out of his ears anytime now.

He lowered his head so that he could glare through his lashes at me. "It tasted fine," he bit out. "Like any other woman. Anything else you want to hear?"

I sighed again, still slightly horny. "Well. No, I guess that's enough." I flicked the camera off and very carefully put the phone back into my pocketbook. He kept right on glaring, but made no real effort to get up or cover himself.

"Where are my clothes, Beth?" He said my name like you'd say bitch, but he was past offending me.

"How should I know?" I got to my feet and looked down at him from a few feet away. He stank of Lucy. "They probably fell into Lucy's pussy; that thing's probably been stretched out by half the senior class." I paused, curious. "Was she any good?"

He had to the grace to think about his answer. "Not worth this," he decided.

"I agree." I looked theatrically around the room, taking in the shoe. "We've got a shoe and a shirt. Oh, and Lucy threw her skanky underwear into the trash; you can use that, too." I giggled. I gave his dick a long stare. "I'm not sure it'll fit, though."

He got up off the floor, scowling. "This isn't funny, Beth."

"Oh, no!" I put on my shocked face. "Not at all, for you." I shrugged. "Simple. You tie the shirt across your ass like a skirt, then put your dick in the shoe and go for a little jog into the night."

"Out through the front door. Brilliant plan." He looked like he wanted to hit me; temper, temper.

"No," I went on patiently, "out past the loading dock. The door is right there at the bottom of the stairs. You'd have seen it coming down, if you weren't thinking with your penis."

He brightened. "What's out there?"

"A loading dock, I'd imagine." He was picking absently at the crustiness where Lucy's funk had clogged up his pubes, and I found it hard to look away. "Uh, there's a sink over there, you know. If you want to wash off your dick."

Mr Dole was past caring about his body by now. "I meant, what else is out there? Is it an alley? A driveway? What?" He ripped a stiff paper towel from the dispenser, and padded over to the counter.

"Oh. No, I think it's a driveway and some trees." I shrugged. "It'll be fine." He was scrubbing viciously down between his legs, still glaring at me through the mirror. "What? Or I could just go, and leave you to explain yourself to the staff later." I winked at him, saucy now, and leaned casually against the wall. "Either way, I'm leaving this piss-smelling brothel and getting back to my date. So make up your mind, bud."

He grunted. "Fine." The shirt had a long, uneven tear across the back that made it less than useful as a mini-kilt, but he went to the door and did his best. He ignored his shoe as he tried to move the shirt around so that it would cover both back and front while I watched, amused.

"You could stuff your dick into a sock," I suggested. He just glanced at me in severe disapproval. I was enjoying this far, far more thoroughly than I'd thought I would. He just kept adjusting, with limited success. "You know," I mused, "I never did like your class. You knew that, right?"

He gave up twisting his shirt and looked unhappily at me. "I thought you were smart, Beth." He'd tied the sleeves together, but then he'd fucked with the shirt. The knot was loose.

I shrugged. "You should have left me alone and let me get on with my work, then. Whatever. Come on, Mr Dole," I finished, stepping into my shoes. "Time's a-wasting." I shot back the deadbolt and leaned out into the hallway like a secret agent in a 60's film, peering carefully both ways. "Coast is clear," I called back, trying to hide my excitement. "Follow me."

We stole across the concrete floor, the music from above throbbing dully through the walls. Past the stairs, to the red-lettered door, and then I stopped before I opened it. Mr Dole ran into me, his chest hitting my bare shoulder, and I shrugged him off. Repulsive. "Ready? It's just a loading dock. You'll find steps someplace; just go down to the pavement, skedaddle into the trees, and then?" I shrugged and batted my eyes at him. "It's been real, Mr Dole. This has been quite a prom, huh?"

"Shut up." He looked at the door distrustfully. "You're just going to stay in here?"

"I think it's locked," I lied. "I don't want to get stuck outside with a naked teacher." I winked one more time. "Ready?" His beady eyes, still frightened, flickered over my face; he was trying to figure out whether he should thank me, I realized. Whatever. The heel of my hand hit the bar on the heavy steel door, and the night air rushed in as I gestured across my body. "Out you go!"

He didn't need urging, brushing past me and bolting for the door. Of course, he missed my other hand, the gesturing one, grabbing at his shirt and hauling hard as he sprinted into the night. The loosened knot did what loosened knots always do, and he was naked again before he registered what was happening.

It was as if I'd planned it in advance. He stopped short with a howl, whirling to confront me. I'd planned on simply letting the door close, but what ended up happening was far, far better. I heard a stoned voice coming from beyond the door. "Whoah. Dude. It's Mr Dole."

Ah. The unexpectedly sweet voice of Jeremy Loring.

"Shit, are you okay man?" That was Justin. Dole froze, looked to the side at where the two stoners were obviously still out of their minds, and then gaped back at me. "Why are you nude?"

"Nude, dude." They giggled. "It rhymes." Another voice was giggling out there now too, and it was all too much for David Dole. He made the only right decision in a night packed with shitty ones: he ran for it, disappearing straight off the edge of the concrete pad, his white ass glowing pale in the night as he made for the trees.

I followed him out, enjoying the fresh air after the vagina smell of the bathroom, my pocketbook dangling. "Hi guys," I said casually as the door snicked closed behind me. A yellow lightbulb glowed above the dumpster, and I flung Mr Dole's shirt underhand to join his suit. In the weird light I saw that Jeremy's girlfriend Tamara had joined them. I nodded; we'd had AP English together. She had her hand resting casually inside Jeremy's pants. "Did y'all enjoy the show?"

"That was lit," Jeremy marveled, sucking hard on a blunt. He waved me over. "Come join us, Lizzy." It was what I'd gone by in elementary school, and I felt myself smile. These guys were stupid, but harmless. He held up the blunt. "Want some?"

I sat carefully down among years' worth of waiters' cigarette butts. "Sure." We leaned back against the wall in companionable silence as I inhaled and, shrugging, rested my head on Justin Clamm's shoulder. He felt pretty good.

* * *

I didn't see Dole at graduation; most of the teachers came, though none was required to, and even though I generally felt that high school had been a miserable waste of time that could now kindly go suck a fat dick, it was nice to see some of the teachers I'd had in previous years.

And Mr Delp.

But the future was now, and the week after was unutterably bland. I had nothing at all to do. My little sister Meg was already away at summer camp, mom and dad were both working, and I needed to face Real Life at last. I was supposed to start at the local community college in the fall, but I didn't want to; my boss at the library had promised me I could go full-time on July 1, but that was ten days off and I was bored out of my skull in the meantime.

I could have done stuff. I could have cleaned the house, or looked for an apartment with Heidi, or even gotten a second job. I could have saved up my money for that nose stud I wanted to get. Hell, I could have started a fitness routine and gotten into badass-marathoner shape.

But no. I sat around and read obsessively, punctuating the tedium with occasional calls to Justin Clamm to see if I could get him to attend to my sexual needs. He was not very good, but my standards were low. The difficulty was that he only came over if I had weed, and since he and I both bought from the same guy, my supply and his demand did not often coincide.

If I'd been more on the ball that one Wednesday, as June was passing away and a real live work life loomed before me, I'd have noticed the junky little blue Honda parked empty across the street as the breeze fluttered through my open window. I'd have noticed it because it was Dave Dole's car, and I knew what it looked like. I'd been curled up on my bed, softly strumming at my clit, my mind elsewhere as a warm breeze came fluttering through my hair from the open window. I was working my way through Crime and Punishment just then, and the strident doorbell took me by surprise.

Masturbating to Dostoevskiy. If that doesn't tell you everything you need to know about me, I've got no idea what will.

I glanced quickly at myself in the mirror, shaking off my late-morning arousal and wondering whether I was presentable; I hadn't showered that day, I didn't need to be at work until 4:00, and I genuinely didn't know what clothes I had on. It turned out to be yesterday's unwashed sundress, a ragged bra, and -- I had to check quickly -- a normal pair of comfortable underwear.

Amazing how you ignore yourself when there's nothing to do.

The bell went again, and I decided it was probably someone doing a survey; I was so bored I was looking forward to that. I sighed, let gravity drag me downstairs, and slumped toward the front door. "Just a sec!" I called; I could see a man's shadow pressed against the little window in the door, beyond my mom's ridiculous lace curtain. I brushed thin hair behind my ear, took a quick breath, opened the door, and immediately lost my shit. "Holy motherfucker!"

"Hello, Beth Sheely." It was Dave Dole, and he was looking not even slightly friendly. "Where's my suit?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I'd taken a few steps back. "How do you know where I live?"

"The school system has your address, Beth. Your sister's still in the computer." His voice was low and bitter. "And I told you already: I'm here for my suit. Where the fuck is it?"

"How the hell should I know?" I snapped back. He took a step into the house and kicked the door shut behind him. "Get out of my house!"

"I talked to Lucy," he snarled. "She doesn't know where my clothes went, and you were the only other person in there. So where did you hide my suit, Beth?" He was having real trouble controlling himself. I remembered my dad had a gun up by his bed. I glanced at the stairs as I thought of it.

"Is my shit up there?" He didn't wait for an answer, but instead barged up the steps. "I'm not leaving without that suit, Beth."

"I'm going to call the police if you don't get the fuck out of my house," I hissed, but I was regaining control. He was incandescent with rage, but not at me; he was pissed that his life was spiraling so quickly down the toilet. So he was pissed at himself.

Good. He deserved it.

"Call them," he retorted. "I don't give a shit. I'm sick of you two playing with me." I watched him as he stomped up the steps, then glanced uncertainly back toward the door.

"Fuck you," I replied, following him slowly. Dad's gun was in the last room on the left. "Don't blame me because you're a fucking moron." I was still having some trouble understanding that Mr Dole was in my goddamn house, but I've always been a quick study. No way would he be stupid enough to hit me, or rape me, or steal anything. Though he might break something. He topped out and hesitated, looking around.

"Where's your room?" he called out, not looking down at me. He had to have heard me following.

"First one on the right," I snapped automatically. "It's not in there," I added as he stalked through my door. Jesus Christ, the fucker was going into my room! "Get out of there, asshole!" I shouted, skipping steps now. "It's not in there!"

"Then where is it?" He was standing uncertainly on my floor as I reached the door, not sure where to start searching. He was in cargo shorts and a Spider-Man shirt. Of course; he would be a fucking Marvel fan. I bet he liked the Yankees, too. I leaned against the doorway and stared him coolly down. He looked weird, standing there among my self-consciously retro Clash posters, my childhood collection of manga, my fading pink wallpaper.

"It's not in here," I repeated, more quietly. Something in my voice made him chill just a bit, enough so that I could start thinking again about cops and guns. "You need to leave," I told him coldly.

"Yeah, or you'll call the police," he sneered, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at the dime bag on my desk, by the window. He glanced back at me, triumphant. "Bullshit."

I stared incredulously, then laughed. "Holy Jesus. You think the cops would give a rat's ass about a baggie of weed, when you're guilty of breaking and entering? And fucking a student? And, like, public nudity?" I pranced to my bed and sat down on the edge. "And who the fuck knows what other shit you've been doing. The word is you and Ms Boyle are fucking, too; what are you, some kind of sex offender?"

He leaned a hand on my desk, next to my laptop. He looked petrified, so I figured I should just continue. "Like you're so out-of-control horny that you're like, what, screwing everything that moves? Like you're so great in bed chicks are kicking their panties in your face?"

He looked back at me coolly, mastering himself and, like most assholes, unable to quit while he was behind. "I get my share," he muttered. "You know that."

I leaned back, my arms propping me up. I was suddenly very aware of how much leg I was showing. "I do, actually." We got quiet then, staring at each other. I was remembering what he and Lucy had sounded like, fucking.

She'd certainly seemed satisfied when she came out of the stall.

He cleared his throat, growing awkward as his anger seeped out. "It's not here, is it?"

I looked warily up at him, remembering him naked. Justin hadn't bothered coming over for the past two days... "It's not here." I hesitated, then shrugged. "I threw your suit away, Mr Dole. Sorry."