“Remember to keep your knees together when you sit down,” the old lady reminded me while we were waiting to see the headmaster of Providence Meadows for the fourth time at 7:30 am. I wasn’t really in the mood to respond vocally, so I simply gave the old lady a look that translated into ‘yeah, I get it now, stop reminding me.’ But I still kept forgetting. My opinion of the skirt had changed a bit, a feeling I didn’t know how to describe, but I still felt exposed wearing it.

In a Medieval fantasy world, a war is conducted on a magical chess field instead of on the battlefield. Young Joshua is drafted to become a pawn in a deadly game. His only hope is to reach the end of the field and fulfill a prophecy that will save himself and his comrades. However, things are not as they seem as Joshua experiences a shocking transformation.

Spin the Bottle

As the last one into the loft, I didn’t get a seat on the couch. Instead I found that someone on Tuesday had brought up a bunch of fluffy pillows, and a bright green inflatable chair. “That is never going to last,” I said, looking at it.

Big Davey laughed, “We alrealy had to patch it twice. It only cost twenty dollars though.”

“What are we playing?” I asked, eager to seem eager.

“Spin the bottle,” Bree said. “Wee David finished the app.”

Lacey was asked to come down to Harrisonburg to hang out with Bug for the day at 9 pm the night before by her grandmother. That request sparked a stern talk about why spending time with Bug was a very bad idea from her mother, directed at both her and her grandma. This stern talk turned into an argument between her and her mother which then led to an argument between her mom and her dad. Lacey could hear the argument, as her parents made no attempt to keep it quiet. Her father was for Lacey going to Harrisonburg to spend time with Bug, whereas her mother was completely against it.

This is the final chapter of the rewrite of Becoming Sara. If you want to read the original you can find it on Fictionmania.

Sara has a lot to do as she dives right into getting her book ready for printing. Her encounter with Megan reveals part of what she forgot. Max disappears and she can't get a hold of him. Sara learns some shocking truths and goes home to face her father. Will it work out or will she be rejected?

Secret Entrance

Rachel on her knees. Sarah unbuckling a belt. What does Regular Dave’s dick taste like? What does Big Davey’s cock feel like?

Don’tmasturbatedon’tmasturbatedon’tmasturbate.

Hello readers, I haven't posted on BC for quite a while, don't know why really but anyway here is my latest offering to you. I have posted all seven chapters together so the story can be read as a novella as I sometimes forget to update chapters regularly. Let me know what you think of this format and also of the story of course. There is a sequel coming...

xxx
Michele

Skirt

“Who’s going Aisling’s way?” Bree said.

I was sore all over. I had finished six platforms. Rachel sucked Regular Dave’s dick. We were walking out of the back parking lot, through the door under the stage. Night had fallen, and it was somewhere around not too late.

“Where does she live?” Sarah asked.

The Loft

Sometime around platform number three I stopped to rest, because everyone else had stopped to rest. I sat, legs splayed in front of me; arms, like a tripod, behind me. Autumn and Sarah were discussing the play we were doing, as if they had both read it. Because they had both read it. The discussion centered around the set design, and had nothing whatever to do with the rest of the play.

I have never felt so good after drinking as I did now barely on the verge of being fully awake. For once in my life I was beyond explanation on how good I felt. No other words to describe it other then fully content with a hint of electric. The next sense that came to me was the warm body holding me. Wrapping itself around me in a blanket of protection. I silently giggled as I wiggled my rear feeling something that gave me flashes of lightning so few hours ago. The next sense that came to me was the smell of our mutual efforts to please each other.

“Name me one good reason why I would tell you anything?” I inquired.

“Well…” Reaching into her bag, the old lady pulled out something that was wrapped in tinfoil. “I’ve got a sandwich for you.”

I eyed the sandwich, my mouth watering. I hadn’t eaten for nearly twenty hours and I was really hungry. Scare the shit out of me, then give me food? Well… “Even if I don’t tell you anything, can I still have the sandwich?” A stupid question. A really, really stupid question.

After my body slamming experience, I was transported to a hospital. It was obvious that the police officers didn’t notice the bruises and scarring on my arms and neck moments after I walked onto the farm due to their reaction when they went to cuff me. They raised my hands to cuff them, my sleeves fell down a bit and the rest was history. Instead of a trip directly to the local jail in a cop car, I got to make a pit-stop at the hospital in an ambulance. The bad part about this was that it gave Frank a seemingly endless supply of ideas about who I could be. And it wasn’t good.

Work was out of the question as the hypersensitivity was getting worse. I had woke up the next morning to a screaming orgasm. It took several minutes to figure it was me that screamed at least I thought it was a few minutes cause I think I passed out as well. Taking a shower turned into an experience that I couldn't stand as I literally couldn't stand it was so intense. A bath was only slightly arousing. I was so glad that Max, Jackie, and even Megan had to work as if even one of them came over I would have raped them.

This is where the story is going to differ from the original. In this chapter i changed the ending to give a different take and direct the story down a different path. If you want to read the original go to Fictionmania.

Day three Meeting the Publisher.

Staring

I woke to find my hands pressed in between my thighs. That should have been uncomfortable and wasn’t. It was comforting. I rolled over to go back to sleep and found that everything was wrong with my body.

Not that. That was still wrong, but I had woken up with some of the knowledge permeating my brain.

What was wrong was my breasts. One was half-in, half-out of it’s bra cup in one direction. The other was half-in, half-out at an opposing trajectory. One shoulder strap was on, the other was pinning my arm at my side.