The Zip Files Bk. 02: Zip Does Gymnasts Ch. 03

Zip could barely contain himself through the rest of the day. Fortunately, his new duties had come with a special dispensation to leave early, along with the rest of the team. Other than a brief glimpse across the heads of his fellow students, he did not see Mrs. Sablier again. She cast him a furtive yet meaningful glance, then went back to chatting with one of her colleagues.

Soon enough, they reconvened at the gym. Zip was disappointed to see that the girls had changed out of their leotards - but not that disappointed, since their new outfits consisted of, at most, an extremely brief pair of athletic shorts and a tank top or T-shirt. He did not get long to ogle this time as he was promptly sent off to help the bus driver load the bus, and do a final check, while the ladies secured their personal belongings.

Finally it was time to board. Coach Swan went up first, followed by the girls. They promptly swarmed into the back, just in front of the luggage, and formed a great and loud throng there. Last of all, Zip boarded.

He stared down the aisle of the bus, in awe. He still could not quite believe his own good fortune. He was on a bus with six nubile young beauties, a single quite athletic and attractive teacher - and not a single other boy. He felt like he had found some sort of weird cheat code all the other dudes had somehow overlooked. He stared in awe at the bountiful bunch of babes bouncing bucolically at the back of the bus - and slowly moved to take his rightful place among them.

Unfortunately, he did not get that far. As soon as he reached where her curvy hips were parked, just behind the driver, Coach Swan held up a hand and pointed at the seat across from her.

"Sit here, Zack," she told him. "We need to talk."

'Uh-oh...' Zip thought.

He stared at the wonderland of wiggling athletic flesh still swarming at the back of the bus - a sea of sleek limbs, pretty faces, and tautly rounded curves. Such good fortune had never graced him before in his life - saving of course the emergence of his powers - and the thought of setting it aside sickened him. But he dared not disobey a direct command.

"Okay," he said.

Trying not to let disappointment show on his face, he sank into the seat. Seeing that all his occupants were seated - or at least notionally so in the case of the girls, whose rounded bottoms rarely seemed to be still for long as a storm of squeals echoed back up the bus - the driver got it into gear. The long windowed compartment jerked and then set forward, pulling away from the school as they set out on their journey.

"Alright," Coach Swan said. From her bag, she pulled out a sheaf of papers. "I have here a collection of things to go over with you." Leafing through them, she noted off items as she saw the headers appear on the papers. "There's... registration. Accommodations. Delivery of emergency contact details to the nurse. Health forms. Meal plan. And then tomorrow's schedule. All of it is your responsibility, so my girls and I can all focus on the important business of actually winning. This, ultimately, is your purpose."

"Oh..." Zip said.

"We will spend most of the trip going over all of it," she told him. One of the few things Zip already knew was their destination. A small liberal arts college off in the valley, it was distant enough that it would take them a few hours to get there.

"But first," Coach Swan said, "I have something more important to discuss with you."

Folding the papers over her lap in a way that, to Zip's disappointment, virtually assured he would not get a glimpse up her skirt, she turned in her seat and faced him.

"Zack," she said. "You have... a bit of a reputation," she said. She squirmed, her cotton-clad hips rubbing against the seat, and her eyes fixed on him. "So I want to make a few rules clear for you, right here and right now."

"Oh," Zip said. "Rules like what?"

"First," she said, holding up a finger. "The host school is giving the teams accommodations in one of the dorms. I do not want to see you in there, ever, unless I have personally invited you. Is that clear?"

Zip swallowed. "Yes," he said.

"Second," she said, holding up another finger. "Even if I have invited you into the dorm, proper - you will not enter any of my students' rooms. Ever. Even if they ask you to. Got it?"

He noted she hadn't said anything about peeking in from outside, with binoculars. Unfortunately, he hadn't brought any. "Got it," he said.

"Third," she said. "So help me God, I had better not see you lay a hand, a finger, or... or anything else, on any of my girls. Have you got that, Zi - I mean, Mr. Zilch?!"

Zip nodded.

'So if I grab the far side of them, where she can't see... it's fine?' he thought.

"Understood," he said.

"Good," Coach Swan said. She sat back primly - or as primly as possible, on the shaking bus. The natural sloshing was causing quite interesting things to happen inside her blouse, and Zip tried not to get caught staring.

"That's not an exhaustive set of rules," she said. "But the rest should be common sense, I would hope. Now, let's get down to the rest of our business..." Peeling back the first of her papers, she started going through them.

They really did take the entire rest of the trip to get through all of it. As he endured mile after stultifying mile, an interesting giggle or shriek occasionally echoed from the back of the bus - which Zip had to do his best to studiously ignore. At last, as the light was starting to fade, they arrived at their destination. Standing partway up in her seat, Coach Swan turned to face the back of the bus.

"Alright, girls, let's get ready!" she said.

What followed was a blur of action, but of a relatively mundane 'hurry-up-and-wait' variety which anyone who has moved in large groups and events will be familiar with. The bus pulled into the campus. There was an unloading of girls and their equipment. There was a great deal of standing around at one table, then standing at another table, then being directed to a third. Since Zip himself was a last-minute change, there was quite a bit of crossing out of old information and filling in of his. The cases were handed off to staff who would deliver them to their appropriate dorms.

During all this, Zip got his first glimpse of the other teams. Most of the other schools in San Cajetan's region were smaller rural districts that were not as blessed as San Caj was with resources - both in terms of money and in terms of number of students to recruit from - and it showed. Both from his own girls' cutting whispered comments and his own observations, it was obvious that most of the other teams around them were not much of a threat.

Quite simply, there is a reason female gymnasts tend to have the builds they do and these girls, while often very attractive in their own way... didn't. They were just a bit too gangly, or a bit too naturally heavy set, to be able to compete with the likes of Summer - who looked like something grown in a lab to do infinite cartwheels forever.

Finally, at long last, after the many lines and papers, they were led into a small conference area - where there was a reception waiting. A whispered comment from Coach Swan informed them that this would be their dinner.

All of the other teams were hanging around as well and this was, in theory, his first chance to approach them. Many of them, even if they didn't quite conform to Summer's exactingly optimized genetic body type, were still extremely fit and very attractive - if each in her own way. And most had even fewer boys on their team than San Caj had - i.e. none.

But this was not exactly the social event of the season. There was no alcohol, of course - this being an official event laid out for high school girls. Each of the teams mostly kept to themselves, save maybe a brief and ritualistic exchange of pleasantries and expressions of sportsmanship. And it wasn't like he could go out playing the field, laying out his game and seeing who bit; what with 'his' entire team, both Summer and all of her friends, having eyes on him the entire time.

Not that Zip had much game to lay out anyways.

So, for once, it was not the smorgasbord of female flesh laid out around it - but rather the spread of food laid out on several large tables at the center of the room. To Zip's eyes it was an amazing bounty, such as he had not seen since the last time he had attended a distant family member's wedding. There was an entire platter covered with cheeses cut into little cubes, in five different varieties. There was a tray of vegetables, with three different dipping sauces. There were seven different kinds of fruit. There was a selection of hors d'oeuvres and, off to one side, there was even a station where a man with a carving knife would cut prime rib for you.

Faced with this amazing bounty, the San Caj girls all wore expressions like they were being offered somebody's three-day-old leftovers. Most, after being pointedly reminded that this was their dinner and that they had a nutrition regime to keep, primly and joylessly nibbled down a precise arrangement of crudité and proteins until the exact moment they were permitted to stop, and then did.

But to Zip, who on some days survived on three meals that all consisted of peanut butter sandwiches he prepared himself, the entire thing looked like heaven. He filled up plate after plate with cubed cheese, spanakopita, and the aforementioned prime rib (with both au jus and horseradish!), and gobbled them all down back to back. The San Caj girls, Summer included, sighed and rolled their eyes at this gauche gluttony - but, expecting nothing more from him, largely let his ravenous behavior pass un-commented-upon.

If anything, they seemed relieved that it was only the buffet table that Zip the Unzipper seemed intent on ineptly ravishing...

But, this blase reaction was not to prove universal.

About an hour into the reception, when Zip was on his eighth plate, a gorgeous girl suddenly appeared in front of him. Being Zip, despite his current culinary focus, his eyes promptly leaped up to check her out. He was surprised to see a body that looked almost exactly like Summer's - save maybe a few inches taller.

Teams had still been dribbling in, one after another - and he didn't recall seeing this girl before. She had blonde hair - though he could tell by the roots she got it from a bottle. She was clad in a purple track suit and, as his eyes passed up across her small but prominent bust, he noticed that she had the name 'Heidi' stitched in golden thread upon her bust. Her countenance, when he finally arrived upon it, was very pretty - but with a serious case of Resting Bitch Face.

Her eyes, slate blue, darted down to his plate, then back up at him.

"You're really eating that?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Zip still had a full mouth. Even he had enough game to chew a couple times, and then swallow, before he tried to get around to answering her.

"I skipped lunch," he told her. He thought back to his morning, which was filled with memories of his hand wrapped around his teacher's large breast but not much else, and made a realization. "And breakfast," he added.

Heidi nodded slowly - staring at his plate as if trying to evaluate whether the contents actually counted as food.

"I guess poor people like you do have to make hard choices," she admitted.

Zip could not help himself.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked.

Heidi's mouth broke into a huge smile at being offered a straight line like that - which, curiously, did nothing to alleviate her raging R.B.F. Belatedly Zip was aware of another five or-so girls just like her, in identical track suits - and with identical blonde hair, some of it possibly even real - all smirking at him in a little arc behind her

"Oh, nothing," Heidi cooed. "It just looks like the sort of thing my dad would serve his employees, for having a slightly above-average quarter." Lifting up a track-suited hand, she gave him a beauty-queen wave. "Enjoy," she purred, and then moved on. Her clones, smiling in turn, moved along with her.

Zip stared along after her. He took a step back and spoke to Haylee, who happened to be nearby.

"Who's that?" he asked.

Haylee shook her head and then, for good measure, also rolled her eyes.

"That's Heidi Klein," she told him. "Playa's team captain."

"Oh," Zip said.

Haylee pursed her lips, and nodded grimly.

"Yep," she said.

As mentioned, most of San Caj's region consisted of either deeply rural districts, small towns, or its own outlying suburbs - none of which could really compete with San Caj itself for numbers. Numbers of several different sorts, really, but most importantly money.

Playa was the exception.

The next wealthy beach town up the coast from San Cajetan, Playa Dorada was also completely, utterly, and one hundred percent artificial. While San Cajetan itself had a certain earthy history dating back to rowdy fishermen and prohibition-era smugglers - much as the current city council might try to pretend otherwise - up until a few decades prior Playa Dorada had been a completely empty chunk of featureless coastal real estate. Then a developer had bought it all up, carved out a bunch of artificial islands and inlets, and turned it into a massive planned community.

Naturally enough, residents of San Cajetan tended to regard residents of Playa Dorada roughly the way a naturally well-endowed woman might regard a woman with an enormous pair of extremely and obviously fake boobs.

Haylee watched the Playa team move with the intensity of a little girl trying, and failing, to use a magnifying glass to burn a bug. Then her eyes widened - as she realized where they were headed.

"Oh, fuck, gotta go," she said.

For, having made a brief circuit of the room - for appearances sake - Heidi seemed to have decided to quit playing around. She had turned and, with her team following, had started a slow but deliberate advance across the room right towards their only real rivals - San Cajetan. And, their team captain - Summer.

As if sensing the approach of the all-blonde army the San Caj girls stopped casually chatting, and turned to face the new arrivals. Within seconds, the two teams were lined up across from each other. Despite the swirling reception and casual small talk going all around them, suddenly Zip could not help but get a feeling like a gust of hot wind had just blown down the center of an Old West street, swirling the sun-baked dust... just a few minutes before high noon struck.

"Well, hello there Summer," Heidi cooed, looking eye to eye with her rival captain. She batted her eyelashes, and her fake smile got broader. "So, you're really the best San Caj can come up with for a team captain? Must be a really lean year, huh?"

Summer seemed momentarily taken aback by this. But then, she shrugged, and seemed to decide to look past the posturing.

"I aim to represent my school the best I can," she replied. "I mean, we're all here to do our best, right?"

"If that's really all you're capable of, sure," Heidi said, and waved her hand dismissively to one side.

Summer blinked, and scowled. Then she shook her head.

"Words are words and talk is talk," she said. "But at the end of the day, as far as I'm concerned, it's all about maintaining the purity of the sport."

"You losing would do that, true," Heidi replied.

She gave a tiny smile, as Summer's lips fell open. Then, before her rival could summon a response she turned, lifted up a spread hand over her lips, and gave a big showy yawn.

"Alright, I think that's enough slumming it with the hoi polloi," she purred. Turning back around she cast a vicious parting smile over her shoulder. "We Playa girls need our beauty sleep!" she said.

Standing next to her flummoxed team captain, and possessing an aggressive social instinct that Summer apparently lacked, Ileana shook her head as she took in their smirking rivals.

"I'll say," she commented, giving them a dismissive look.

Heidi's eyes briefly darkened, as did those of her swirling blonde posse. But then she shrugged.

"No one likes a sore loser," she advised. "If you don't already know, you have just over twenty four hours until you find that out." Turning around, she gave a parting wave back over her shoulder. "Good night, girls," she said. "Wreck you in the morning."

And with that she, and the rest of the golden horde (gymnast edition), filed out, accompanied by their coach.

Summer watched them go with a nonplussed expression on her face. The rest of her team promptly came forward to comfort her, in a way that Zip immediately wished he could do.

"Don't let her get to you," Grace advised, putting one arm on Summer's shoulder and massaging it gently. "She's all talk."

"Right," Ileana agreed, rubbing her captain's other shoulder.

Summer allowed herself to be soothed. But still, the interaction cast a pall over the night. Shortly thereafter, they decamped to their sleeping accommodations. Leaving the athletic building - where the competition would be, and which had hosted the reception in its office areas - they went across a cracked parking lot where the bus had dropped them off, towards a few taller buildings a short distance away.

"That is the girls' dorm," Coach Swan informed him, pointing towards the closer of a pair of long, tall, narrow buildings, each about eight stories in total. Based on the number of windows, he would guess there were about a dozen rooms per floor. "We're on the third floor," she informed him. "Don't get lost. I absolutely do not want complaints of you sniffing around the other girls."

"I won't get lost," Zip assured her.

If he went into the other girls' dorms, it would definitely be one hundred percent on purpose.

"The mens' dorm is over there," she said, pointing at another building a little further away. In addition to Zip there were a small handful of other men in official attendance - a few coaches, some bus drivers, and a couple support personnel slash boyfriends like himself. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out two keycards, and held them out. "Top one is yours, bottom key is for our building. Go get yourself situated, then come to me. I'll need your help getting the cases unpacked while the girls settle in and get some rest."

She lowered the keys, and then lifted them back up.

"I can trust you, right?" she asked, sharply.

"I'll be on my best behavior," he promised.

She nodded. "Good," she said, and handed him both keys.

'She obviously doesn't realize just how bad my best behavior actually is...' Zip thought, taking them.

Decamping from the girls, Zip cut across the college grounds to 'his' dorm. Both his and the girls' buildings looked like they had been built around the same time, and that time was several decades ago. Monuments to brutalism, they had stark concrete exteriors and looked like the kind of place Soviet factory workers would live.

There were some much more modern high-rise dorms glittering on the horizon, which answered the question of why the college had them available during term. They didn't want to put these old monstrosities in the student life brochures. Better to fob them off on the sort of inmate who didn't get to choose to go somewhere else - like him.

Going up some steps, Zip approached the two double doors to his dorm. The glass doors led into a small vestibule, at one end of the building. His keycard on a reader opened them with a click; there was no one around.

Through the double doors, there was a small entry area with an elevator, a staircase up, and a door with 1F printed on it. Seeing from his card that his room was on the first floor, Zip went through the door. Past it he found himself on a long hallway with room doors coming off either side.