*If you can't look in a mirror and laugh at yourself, cut off the light*

(A special nod to BR for his help with all kinds of trivia and input in this chapter; a big thanks to Frontma for the editing )

(I make a pledge: If I can't slaughter every genre before the end of Book One, point it out and I give you homage when I catch that lucky bitch in Book Two)

[Only Yesterday]

"There must be a reason you are here," Gabrielle Black questioned Rio. Rio spun around, expecting the classic chic vs. slasher boogeyman stance where 'she' was right behind her. Gabrielle was, in fact, four meters away, halfway in the doorway.

"Whoa, bi -- give me a damn heart attack, why don't you?" Rio gulped. Gabrielle gave no response. "Fine, Zane -- wait! Is this room safe?"

"If you are asking if it is bugged or being monitored, then the answer is 'no'," Gabrielle stated. Rio was starting -- yes, just starting -- to get wigged out by the Head of Security's icy calm.

"Fine, you freaky, scary-ass -- if I call you a bitch will you hurt me?" Rio smirked.

"You have fifteen seconds before I decide whether or not to damage you in a permanent fashion, Ms. Talon," Gabrielle warned Rio.

"Permanently damage somebody? What kind of egocentric wacko-douche says -- Zane sent me to tell you that 'There is no Cordelia Dresden'," Rio blurted out, hating to lose the suspense but deciding that losing a finger would be worse. Gabrielle didn't move.

"Well?" Rio asked nervously.

"I will put your arm behind your back in what appears to be a painful manner; I will walk you over to the Vice-Chancellor's office; my hold on you will be relinquished; we will wait for Ms. Revel to send us into Dr. Scarlett's office. You will admit to breaking into my house; I will inform her that you have agreed upon a punishment; she will agree, and we will leave; and then I will escort you back to your class," Gabrielle stated. Rio was nodding, not in understanding but in suicidal thoughts.

The next thing Rio knew, Gabrielle stealth pounced on her while remaining in plain sight. She twisted Rio's arm behind her back and turned her toward the door. Being the veteran of dozens of police chokeholds, beat downs, and other blatant abuses of authority, Rio was equally surprised how painless the hold was.

"What do I tell Zane?" Rio asked.

"Zane's not expecting an answer," Gabrielle related.

"How the fuck do you know that?" Rio sneered.

"The same way I know Zane told you in a public place with multiple conversations in all directions," Gabrielle informed Rio. "It is what I would have done. Likewise, I know he chose you, that you've done horrible things that you have only told him about – because you would die for him and he would die for you. Of greater relevance, you would keep your mouth shut."

"Tell me something," Rio popped the question as they reached the door to the outside, "if you had a chance to seduce Zane and not get caught, would you?" Gabrielle ushered Rio outside, locked her door while keeping Rio constrained, then started across campus. She gave no answer. Rio kept her smarmy mouth in check for an incredible thirty seconds.

"So, Basalt Buns," Rio snickered, "don't your nipples get rubbed raw by that skin-tight clothing?" Gabrielle could have been deaf for all she reacted, but several of the young women soaking up the mid-Autumn sun and gentle breeze gulped and gasped.

"So, with all those does bending over and flashing their panties, do you ever get wet? And if so, where does all that cunt juice go?" Rio taunted...still nothing. Several girls sitting on the ground tucked their skirts in tighter.

"If I give you a trainer vibrator, would you promise to use it to deal with some of this pent-up aggression that makes you both homicidal yet dangerously alluring?" Rio tried next. At this point, some of the other girls surreptitiously raised their phones to capture what they thought might be Rio's last moments.

"For the love of God, Tar Baby, say something," Rio laughed.

"You think you speak to illicit a response when, in fact, you do so as a tool to sound people out," Gabrielle said with that same seemingly emotionless voice. "You look for signs of courage, moral sensitivity, and temper control while broadcasting your fearlessness and experience in suffering pain."

"Fuck-nuts," Rio tried to grin over her shoulder at Gabrielle, "when you open up, you are a chatty little songbird. I think you and I are going to get along much better than I did with Gorman."

"That is because Coach Gorman makes decisions based upon morality and responsibility while I base my actions on expediency," Gabrielle said.

"Does this mean I get to see you naked now?" Rio smiled cheerfully. Gabrielle didn't respond. "How about I show you mine and you show me yours?" she tried again, but Black was Teflon. "Okay, what would you do if I offered you a lesbian six-way? Don't worry; me and four friends could 'overpower' you and take you back to the Love Shack. What do you say?"

"We are here," Gabrielle responded, but really was indicating their arrival at the Administration Building. Rio decided to be quiet. Teasing Black among the girls was okay, but doing the same in front of Gabrielle's peers seemed unfair to Rio...but she didn't know why.

"Ms. Revel, I need one minute of Dr. Scarlett's time, please," Gabrielle requested in the same dead voice.

"What is the nature of this matter, Ms. Black," Ms. Revel requested in a polite tone that made Rio want to slap that 'oh so civilized' mask off her face. Revel treated Rio and Zane like crap -- okay, more her than Zane, but hell, the woman had a vagina and that made her Zane's bitch, Rio believed, even if he refused to believe it. Scratch that, even girls with dicks weren't immune.

Revel made a quick call and then Gabrielle and Rio crossed the threshold into Victoria Scarlett's office.

"Hello," Victoria looked up at the two. "How can I help?"

"Undo that top button," Rio whispered, but was clearly understood. "I, ah -- I broke into Ms. Black's house. I was a bad girl," Rio added in a louder voice.

"I apprehended Ms. Talon; we discussed the matter and agreed upon the proper punishment," Black lied in a manner Rio prayed she could emulate one day...as well as pierce. "Ms. Talon has agreed to forgo a student appeal so she can put this matter behind us."

"Understood," Victoria nodded. "Oh, Rio, do you agree to this?"

Rio thought all of this was going a long fucking way to create a cover story on the off chance that Cordelia or some other dork in the Time Lord Mafia – Rio made a mental note to "Gibbs" slap Zane upside the back of his head for giving those geeks what she thought was a cool name – looked over some security feeds; then she noticed the two cameras covering the room.

Now Zane was going to get a nut-kick for being such a smart-ass, and the worst kind of smart-ass ... the ones who were right.

"Yeah, sure," Rio tried to reign in her rebelliousness.

"Very good; Ms. Black, please carry on," Victoria returned to her work. Rio and Gabrielle had turned and taken two steps toward the door when they heard, "Rio, why did you break in?"

"Well, Bible Black here has this choice selection of thongs," Rio replied without hesitation as she and Black turned back to face the Vice-Chancellor.

She'd once convinced an Arizona State Highway Patrolman that half a pound of weed was for medicinal use because she was dying of cancer. She'd even offered to let the patrolman pull off her punk-style wig which, thankfully, he elected not to do because it was, of course, her real hair.

"Why didn't you approach Ms. Black during breakfast or at the end of Assembly to ask her what brand she uses and simply purchase them?" Victoria persisted.

"I plead poverty and a terminal lack of common sense," Rio grinned.

"Wouldn't Zane take care of that for you?" Victoria's gaze penetrated Rio and pissed her off.

"When your stud lover is doing a double stick – that's bending you over and pumping you in the vagina in one stroke and up the ass on the next until he spews his seed all over my back – asking him for money -- well, wouldn't that make me a whore?" Rio glowed with her perverse challenge. "Are you offering to be my pimp?"

"Rio, next time go to Zane first," Victoria stated confidently. "It is his God-given duty to protect and provide for you. He is a good Christian man so put your trust in him."

"Excuse me," Rio made a gagging sound, "I think I'm going to throw up. That is the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. Club me over the head like a baby seal, beat me, spank me, bludgeon me with your big titties, or smother me with that skanky twat -- but please, please, shut the fuck up," Rio snarled at Victoria.

"Go in God's Love, Rio," Victoria ignored Rio's rant and went back to work. Gabrielle took Rio's arm and led her out of both the office and the building.

"I do not understand what just happened in there," Rio turned on Black but then realized she was staring at a human stone.

"Go to class," Gabrielle directed her.

"Whatever," Rio groaned. She was in mid-step when Gabrielle answered "Yes," then departed rapidly. It took Rio a minute to figure out what Black was saying 'yes' to.

THE ACT OF BETRAYAL

I'm kneeling close to the head of my bed while Paige is on my lap, my cock wedged into her vagina and her arms wrapped around my neck, her hands pressing my face and lips into hers. A combination of my hands cupping her ass and my thighs and hips surging upward are giving Paige a very rough, energetic ride.

Despite Paige's liquid readiness, there is not much of a sloshing noise. Paige is so tight her vaginal walls act as a seal around my cock to stop her fluids from cascading out. Any friction my rod may be going through is more than compensated by the feeling of her nipples dragging up and down my chest.

"That's it, love," Paige whispered in my ear. "Remember this...remember me." I brought my hands up while still humping her up with my hips. I reached her mid-back and pressed her into me, then gyrated her breasts around, grinding her pebble-hard nipples deeper into my chest.

"I'll definitely remember the feel of this," I said before kissing her once more. "But really, I don't need to look farther than your eyes to know what I want to remember."

"Ah -- mmm," Paige began to slide toward her orgasm. "Zane, I want this to be forever and I'm going to find a way. I can't -- oh...I love you...Zane!" The low rumbling deep within her body increased in vibrancy as Paige reached her climax. I could feel that sonic energy passing from her to me.

In her game plan was the belief that a combination of good sex and companionship for two years without Christina would lead to us being 'the couple'. I tried not to encourage her but I also valued her counsel and her friendship. I remained in a sitting position to keep Paige breathtakingly close. My still hard cock rested deeply inside Paige's cunt until it finally calmed down and we began gathering for the showers.

"Bro, can I have a minute?" Rio called out.

"Sure," I said. After the last of my other bed buddies left, I reached out and yanked Rio toward me.

"Hey, now...as bizarre as it is for me to say this – I want to talk," Rio laughed. I waited.

"Zane, this is beyond insane; you realize that right?" Rio began.

"Sadly, my life is so unhinged I'm going to have to ask you to clarify what you mean," I sighed.

"The number of girls in this bed," Rio sat up and huffed. "These have hardly been my first three-ways but these are the first ones I orchestrated...controlled. Before coming here, I was renowned for my free-ways, by the way."

"Three-ways," I corrected Rio.

"No," she chuckled bitterly, "by the time my old crowd was done with me, I had been used like a free-way."

"And Mercy?" I questioned.

"I'll get back to her but let me make my first point; you get all these different girls to come to your bed," she smiled, "and they spend most of their time talking to each other...with the occasional awesome sex," she tossed me a bone.

"Those are called relationships," I teased Rio. "Technically, if you seek out a person on more than one occasion, you have a relationship. Several of the ladies with us tonight have been with you several times, indicating they want a relationship with you."

"None of that shit would be happening without you," Rio countered.

"I don't deny it; I have opened the door but I haven't thrown anyone at you either," I grinned. "Face it, when you let down your guard and don't act too crazy, people like you, Rio. As a girl, you are a pain; as a friend, you are wonderful. Case in point – Valarie didn't beat you black and blue."

"Dude, you called her off of me," Rio pointed out.

"Do you seriously think that someone with Valarie's developed survival instincts wouldn't have cut you lose unless she thought you had something worthwhile?" I countered. Rio had to think that one over. I figured I had won when she changed the subject.

"I need some money," Rio mumbled.

"How much? It may take me a few days to finagle it from my Trust if it is a lot," I answered.

"I love you," Rio said after a moment. "You are a nut. You are not even asking me what it is for."

"Rio, I'd kill for you; I'd break you out of prison if I had to. Compared to that, I think I can soak up a financial hit," I promised. "You will always be worth it to me."

"Oh" -- another long pause.

"We both need a shower, Bro," I prodded.

"I want to get -- well, I'm thinking about --" she took a deep breath, "-- looking for a ring."

"For Mercy?" I sat up, startled. "Rio, are you sure? I mean, you haven't known her a month yet. Don't you think you are moving a little fast?"

"I've been crazy horny, crazy in love, and plain crazy about her, Zane," Rio moaned.

The very fact that Rio hadn't bitten my head off for giving her grief told me how bad this thing was.

"Honestly," she looked into my eyes, pleading that her explanation would bring understanding to us both, "it was Vivian who got Mercy and I to talk about normal, non-sex, stuff."

"I showed her some of my piercings, she showed me stuff about her high school, her old friends, movies she liked. If I hear the name Mandy Moore one more Goddamn time, I'll ram my pinkies through my eardrums," she swore, "and she listened to some of my music and didn't freak out."

"Love doesn't make a marriage; liking your partner does," I chuckled. "Mom told me so."

"Wait, you aren't trying to talk me out of this?" Rio realized.

"Nope. She loves you and I think she has come to accept that you are going to emotionally hurt her from time to time," I nodded, "and if you can wrap your mind around holding up your side of a commitment, then I'm there for you."

"Oh, you bitch!" Rio punched me. "Put all the responsibility on me."

"Duh," I joked. "Nose ring, ring finger, or collar and leash – Mercy would never ask you for any of those so if she ends up with one or all of those, it will be by your will alone."

"Fine, I'll do it," Rio perked up. "It is the right thing to do but I'm falling in lust with the idea of that nose ring...though her leash is already on the way."

"Leash: planning on a little bedtime rodeo?" I prayed.

"No. I'm going to make use of it on the entire floor, plus whenever we go to town," Rio giggled.

"R-E-S-T-R-A-I-N-T," I spelled out the word. "I'm going to find a dictionary and have you memorize the meaning, Knucklehead."

"What are you talking about?" Rio batted her lashes at me sarcastically. "I'm all for restraints."

"Come on," I shook my head and scooted toward the edge of the bed, Rio right behind me. "At some point Mercy is going to have to go back to her hometown and her family. She's going to be alone, and if any of this alternative crap comes up, I doubt anyone close by is going to be understanding."

"I don't want to give her back to those assholes, Zane," Rio grumbled. I handed her a towel before we headed out.

"She's not a toy or a pet," I said. "You can't take her family away from her. She's going to have to decide how she is going to deal with them. One day I hope she's honest with them about her choices and about you. Then it is on them whether they remember she's still the woman they loved for twenty years. Rio, it is her decision to make and you have to trust her to be strong enough to do what is right for her." I took in Rio with my stare. "It would be a mistake to do it now, but when you two are stronger and she's much, much closer to graduation, she needs to make her peace with her parents."

"Fuck that," growled Rio. "I want her to choose to stay with me forever. Failing that, I want to know if I can keep her tied up in your room for the next three years."

"You have got to let her parents cut those ties; if they can't deal," I reminded Rio, "then it isn't your weight to bear anymore and Mercy won't hold it against you. That is the same reason you will go home when you are ready; when you can make your parents own up to what they did. Until you deal with that, you won't totally trust Mercy, me, or anyone."

"You are a real cocksucker; I would have loved your Mother and I wish she had been my mom instead so I could have been a college queen bee like Christina with a smoking car and a steamier boyfriend," Rio's eyes danced with mischief and understanding. "You are such a fucking deviant; I don't know how you sleep at night. You convinced me that I need to slow down a bit with my annoying bang-bunny until I deal with some of my luggage/baggage/mind-fucking myself ... and you tried to trick me into thinking it was my idea. I love you," she hugged me.

"I sleep on my back with one eye open because it's not in your nature to miss a chance to pay me back, for good or ill, and that could make sitting down rather painful," I winked.

"Ya big baby," Rio laughed. "I'll get Hope to lay you out for me – then playtime!"

"Rio, do you have any idea of the recovery time you'd go through, healing up from the beat-down Hope would inflict?" I teased.

"I love nurses," Rio snickered. "Tell them you have belly itch, then you trick them to go lower and lower."

"Why don't you do it yourself?" I wondered.

"Bro, every time I've been in a hospital, my wrists have been strapped down. I wouldn't know any other way – it would be unnatural," Rio poked me. "Stick me back in; I'll be fine."

"Try asking for something I believe you want, ya nut," I shoved her playfully. "You are the least likely person I know to submit to bondage. If it is any consolation, you are the person I am most likely to believe would put another in a hospital."

"Oh, Motherfucker," Rio grimaced, "Belle is going to 'start my training' this Saturday. Hospitalization is a real possibility."

At this moment, we passed into the fifth-floor showers and met my bevy of female companions. Mercy waited patiently for her lover, standing straighter and thrusting out her chest when Rio came into view.

"Are you waiting for me to wash your back?" Rio greeted Mercy rather congenially. Mercy thought about the game Rio was playing then nodded.

"How clever of you," Rio congratulated Mercy. "Let's get in a stall and I'll be Airport Security Guard and you get to be Cartel Drug Mule; that sounds like Body Cavity Search Time to me." Mercy gleefully scampered to stay by Rio's side. 'No Rio', I thought, 'this is going to be a colossally important thing; you and her, and how Mercy deals with what comes next.' Rio had the subtlety of a hurricane, the speed of a tornado, and the capacity for devastation to match them both.

"Hey, Slugger," Opal pulled me into her shower spray. "You seem positively conscious this morning. Did they kick you under your bed and forget where they placed you when Fun Time began?"

"Just for that," I threatened, I snatched up Opal by each of her athletically sculpted ass cheek and pulled her up so that when she wrapped her legs around me, they were right below my ribcage.

"Oh, oh, ah," Opal rumbled in satisfaction as I began to rapidly switch from feasting on one breast to the other. "I'm going to remember that teasing you in the morning gets me major satis --" she gulped because my cock had just pierced her outer pussy lips and I was pulling her up and down to drive it from the base of her cunt until my shaft was grinding up and down her clit.

"Damn," Opal muttered, "I'm not going to finish out this semester a virgin." That wasn't what I expected and I really should have expected what came next. Vivian stepped up and slapped me on the back of my head -- aka a Jethro "Gibbs" style slap. Before long, I'm going to start calling her 'Boss'.

"Repeat after me; I will respect Opal's virginity," Vivian commanded me, "or I will find myself praying on my knees an extra hour every day until the end of time." I could handle a little extra personal prayer time. Putting Vivian on her knees -- mind out of the gutter -- for an extra hour every day was inhuman – it was insidious – it was blackmail.

"Damn it, Vivian," Brandi complained, "you've barely started showering with us and you are already proving to be no fun." Vivian exhibited to me once again she would make a wonderful mother. She stepped up to Brandi and smacked her on the back of her head too. Brandi squawked.

"Zane is not here for your amusement," Vivian lectured. "If you are dead-set on repudiating your Purity Pledge, give it some deliberation, then put your thoughts into writing and give it to your Spiritual Advisor. You shouldn't lose your virginity simply because Zane rubs his penis over your...sexual region."

"Actually, Vivian, that is exactly how it happens," Barbie Lynn teased from down the line, "A man's cock rubs along a woman's cunt lips and momentum takes over...or so I've been told."

"Don't worry, ladies," Rio laughed. "Zane is hung like a termite. Real men are much, much bigger." Several girls were frightfully curious about the veracity of that declaration. The internet said one thing but Rio was an honest to God whore (or so many believed).

"Think about who said what," Valarie snorted. "Would you rather believe Rio or a warning found in a bathroom stall?" That brought some laughter. "Besides, it wasn't too long ago Rio was calling Zane a gerbil right before he pounded her so hard she developed temporary paralysis in the lower half of her body."

"That's a bold-faced lie!" Rio shouted. "I could still wiggle my toes." Next to her, Mercy gave a start. "I swear by the WMD's of George W. Bush, Senorita, you're smuggling a dwarf up there somewhere and I'm going to find him." Mercy hiccupped and I could swear she began whispering 'hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off...'

"Come with me, Zane," Iona tugged on me. "Put Opal down; you need to shower before your time runs out."

Three people could get me to put Opal down; Opal, of course, Vivian (she's my matronly authority), and Iona. I put Opal down with some reluctance on both our parts before following Iona to the end of the line and going it alone. It certainly got me back to my room on time but I missed some of the fun.

I had a lot on my plate, both friend-wise and scholastically, so I was grateful that Iona hurriedly pulled out some clothes and shoes for me. She blew me a kiss, clutched her wrapped towel tight to her chest, and scampered off. Of all my favorite female companions, she was the only one left who hadn't moved in.

I learned this when Valarie and Vivian opened up one of my wardrobes, dropped their towels, and began taking out shirts. Apparently I'm easily amused because my concentration on dressing slipped when they bent over in tandem to pick out some shoes at the bottom of the wooden cupboard. Only the naked beauty of Barbie Lynn sashaying blithely between them and me let my mind snap back to reality.

Firm asses, cutting the perfect contours above and around two succulent and moist sets of pussy lips; I am hopelessly addicted to female anatomy. The action of pulling my underwear up collided with the vision of Paige's journey past me, causing me to think 'Paige moved in – when?' Better yet, she began raiding Rio's stuff.

"Ah, you don't want to do that," I cautioned her. She turned and wiggled her panty-covered butt my way. She had on a new brand – not a new pair but a whole new type, so sheer that it looked like I was viewing her naked ass through a light fog. "Nice – um – underwear."

"When Barbie Lynn was getting some from that shop downtown I decided to have her pick me up some but sadly," she moped, "all the beige were gone in my size." Paige smiled and pulled out a pair of white hose and garters. "Rio said I could use these if I was her – what was the term – 'Spank Monkey' for one night this weekend."

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I chose Life! I quickly got dressed and fled to the first floor before the blood loss to my penis caused me to permanently revert to a 9th grader. It is not lost on me that in Macho Man (Randy Savage) world, I have just been chased from my room by some barely-clad babes. If this was the sole snapshot of my life, I would look so gay; not a transgender or cross-dresser, though. I would rock as either one of those!

It was not lost on me that I was missing prime exercise time but I wasn't going back to my room. Okay, I wasn't going back to my room and eating breakfast. Okay, I wasn't going back to my room and engaging in a three-way, which would imply eating, just not breakfast. I jogged across campus instead. Technically, curfew was still in force but since I was running away from women, campus security decided to leave me alone.

At the gym I slipped into Karate bottoms and did some of the resistance techniques that were my staple. Coach Gorman arrived moments after I came out of the locker room and laughed at me in that oh-so-superior 'I told you so' manner – damn it. We never exchanged a word and I was gone with ten minutes to spare.

Head of Security Gabrielle Black walked past me as I made my way to the Dining Hall. It took me a second to work out the geography and physics to come to the conclusion that she'd been with me in the gym all along – I simply hadn't seen her. By the look of her hair, she'd been working out too.

"What?" I groused as I ran to catch up with her. "Were you up in the ceiling?" She didn't even break stride and she certainly didn't answer. "Damn, am I going to have to study the angles of the cameras to figure out where you were?" I persisted, and then she had mercy.

"The cameras are on a mobile diagram pattern and you will get hurt trying to figure that out so I will compromise; I was there, and I will slap you with groundskeeper duties for the next five Saturdays if you go looking into this any further," Gabrielle told me.

That was Gabrielle and compromise; do what I say and I'll give you a treat; if you don't, I'll hurt you. Not that she was likely to have offspring this side of a cloning experiment, but if she did, I'd feel sorry for the little ones. I'd never help them because I don't willing seek pain for no gain, but I'd feel very sorry from a distance.

The Dining Hall was almost a relief. That relief died the moment I saw the banner over the front of the serving area in the Hall. 'Zane Appreciation Day'. Since every word was spelled correctly, it wasn't some stunt of Rio's, but beyond that, the list of suspects was too large to consider. This could be a genuine outpouring of acceptance and sympathy for what I had endured here. If you believe that, I have to ask you: 'Do you want your leprechaun pissing Guinness or Irish Malt?'

Most likely, this was going to be some sort of humiliation, and I think I knew the flavor, and I definitely knew how to find out. See, in every seat of the Dining Hall was a big, bowling ball sized white box with a name and secured with a gold and green ribbon – so no cheating; no peeking. That last bit didn't deter me, though. I snuck up on the box marked for Holiday Carpenter.

"Zane, does that have your name on it?" Virginia Goodswell asked me, my English teacher and Spiritual Advisor. Hell, if it had been Mrs. Marlowe, I would have opened it anyway, but Virginia was my buddy so her next question didn't mean to stab a stake of regret through my heart. "Where is Vivian?"

"I left my room before she was done." I looked to the ground while I kicked some imaginary dust off the slate floor.

"Why don't you see if she's been calling you?" she suggested. "She's probably worried." Worried...or homicidal because, ya know, I had sort of run off without my phone, wallet, watch, book bag, or anything else a 21st century student might need.

"I ran away like a big, fat chicken," I confessed. "Anything not glued to my body I left behind."

"I'll give her a call." She pulled out her phone and hit speed dial #2. I crap since her sick mother is probably #1. I am such a big problem for her, she has my guardian on speed dial! "That is Holiday Carpenter's box, Zane, not yours. Besides, there are strict instructions to not open the boxes until instructed."

The panicky response I overheard from Virginia's conversation with Vivian hardly helped my mood. She wanted to know if Virginia knew where I was – she did; that I was okay – I was; and finally, what upset me, because the other girls weren't talking but apparently Mercy had started slapping Barbie Lynn around until Rio and Val pulled her off. Now, that made less than no sense. Wasn't that supposed to work the other way around?

Virginia did a double check and sure enough, Mercy had slammed Barbie Lynn into an open wardrobe on my behalf, and Rio and Val had pulled her back. WTF! I am sure that Rio was right beside me on that one. Vivian triple checked that I was physically and mentally okay and she sounded so disappointed – in herself – as she did so. She was bringing my stuff; yes, I am an earthworm. Virginia promised for me that I would remain here until she arrived.

Some stupid gesture like a loud public apology, done on bended knee, was blatantly unfair to Vivian, who only meant the best for me. I made a quick apology, not trying to meet her eyes as I said the words and took my stuff. All of 'my' girls seemed equally subdued. A minute after we had garnered our victuals, Vivian put a hand on my elbow.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Zane," Vivian smiled warmly at me. "You take a lot of stress and pressure on yourself. I understand that from time to time you need to take in a tiny bit of private space for yourself. Clearly, you can't schedule any such time because nothing around you stays a secret for very long and no one respects your privacy or even asks what you need."

"Vivian," I was puzzled, "you deserve to be righteously pissed with me. You are my Guardian and I promised to stay by you or at least tell you where I was."

"Zane, we let you down," Vivian assured me. "It is your dorm room and we are your guests, and we have been rather poor guests at that."

"How about we call a truce?" I offer.

"I can live with that," Vivian smiled.

"Cut the Kumbaya-time, kids," Rio snorted derisively. "Zane, what the fuck happened with Mercy?" Rio playfully punched Mercy's arm to emphasize her uncertainty.

"Rio – Bro – drop it," I asked sincerely. "Act like it didn't happen." Rio studied me a second, then got this wickedly evil grin.

"What the hell are you talking about, Glenda?" she hefted the box up then shook it. "It seems my damn box is glued shut. Are we celebrating one thousand cunts licked by you, or what?"

Because Rio rarely expounded at a level below full volume, next thing we hear is Mrs. Marlow snapping, "Ms. Talon, watch your language; there are good Christian women being forced to sit within the sound of your voice!"

"Gotcha, Ms. Mouthful," Rio snapped off with a snap and a finger raised up like a pistol in the air.

"What did you say?" Marlowe closed the distance.

"She was repeating what I pointed out," I turned and smiled. "I said that you really had it going together this morning; that you were more than a mouthful. That's a hip/trending term to describe someone who is expressing themselves through clothing and make-up."

"You are lying, Mr. Braxton," she snarled.

"You are probably right, as I do so to you on general principle, but good luck proving it in student court," I grinned right back. We locked wills and she blinked first.

"Ms. Phillips," Marlowe turned on Vivian, "what are you going to do about this?"

"Zane and Rio, would you please apologize for being rude and insensitive to an educator who only wishes the best for the student body?" Vivian requested.

"I so apologize," I bowed my head.

"I so apologize as well," Rio tacked on. Only after Marlowe had gone to spread love and sunshine somewhere else did Rio lean across me and whisper to Vivian.

"You rock!" Rio giggled gleefully. After all, Rio and I had not apologized to Mrs. Marlowe because neither one of us believed for a minute that she was 'an educator who only wishes the best for the student body'. To that nameless entity, we owed a debt, and to Mrs. Marlow we owed a generous 'fuck you,' and Vivian had made it all possible.

"Why, thank you, Rio," Vivian nodded her acceptance of Rio's praise. "Jesus is the Peacemaker and we all should attempt to emulate his teachings."

"So...I still don't get to lick you senseless?" Rio snickered.

"No – no, you don't," Vivian smiled, even though she didn't look at either of us. Vivian's going to rock as a mom.

The next half hour passed quietly. Everyone was curious about the boxes but no one was too worried until a rumor suddenly appeared. When it was suggested that they might have to put on bikinis, the fear set in. I blamed – I don't know but I wish I had thought of it. I was still kicking myself for the missed opportunity when my alien with the right face black and left face white shows up with the right face white and left face black – Mhain and Millicent.

"Death Match and you get to referee," Rio teased me. "I'm so jealous; $500 bucks on the one with the soul." Mhain glared hate at us while Millicent looked more than amused.

"Zane, come with us," Mhain gloated. I figured that somehow my ordeal was coming to an end so I'd play along. I rose and they steered me to the largest exit, flanking me.

Christina and Company grabbed their boxes and jumped up quickly to follow me, though they looked as confused as I was, confirming none of them were the architect of my discomfort. No sooner had we stepped into the cool, sunlit lawn than everyone's phone rang...except mine. I was loving this, right up there with having sandpaper buffing my sunburned abs.

"Open the box and follow the instructions," Christina informed me. "Is anyone going to do this?" My phone vibrated once, then my whole body tingled before I could respond to the call.

"I am," Mhain gloated. "I was promised something." She knelt and opened her box with enthusiasm; the others did likewise but at a more sedate pace.

What came out of each box was almost identical, different only in the anatomical part of the body indicated by the instructions. The objects were all grapefruit-sized fur-balls that made darling little squeaks, squeals and murmurs, amongst other sympathetic noises – all in tiny little voices. They were to be placed on my body, but I didn't know how that would work.

"Are we going to do this?" Chastity began to say.

"It isn't sticky," Hope was also saying when Mhain's flew out of her hand and hit the side of my left knee. She reached out carefully to retrieve hers while the other girls circled in. The little darlings were proving to be resilient little bastards. Several more leapt at me from the hands of their owners.

All this time the furry grapefruit were giving little 'wee!' noises when they shot at me and screeched like demons when they were removed, which was painful when they were on my flesh. I knew who was responsible and she was going to pay – but not right now. I saw my closest allies pulling back.

"TLM, Christina," I sighed in resignation. "Let's get this over with." I was being totally self-sacrificial; girls were starting to pile-up on us coming out of the Dining Hall. I didn't want a riot. Mhain had technically tagged me first but not in the designated spot, so I had Christina go first – she put one over my heart – not that I thought Cordelia was stupid, but now she was just piling it on.

Mhain went next and she was sizzling and excited – she put it on my lips, shutting me up. At least the girls were polite and organized enough to come at me patiently. A few didn't get the 'memo' and their little rug rats slipped out of their owner's grasp and got to play gleeful kamikaze as they plowed into me.

It didn't hurt but I had this secret fear that the tiny terrors would sprout fangs and tear into me. These little guys were murmuring and mumbling and it wasn't until I was truly buried that a horrific realization was made – the more that were on me, the greater their clinging power. In retrospect, this would have been more useful if we hadn't passed the 700 mark.

I looked like a puffy, overweight, Sasquatch baby. I could move but sitting down was a dream, as was running or going to the bathroom. The damn things wouldn't shut up either. It fell to Hope and Iona to hurry me (as much as possible) to Assembly; you know that place where I 'sit' in front. At least no one could ask me anything with the expectation of receiving an answer.

I no longer wondered how bad it could get; I knew it would get worse, and while I didn't know how, I knew it would be soon. At the start of Assembly my little friends joined in the singing...not using words but in the tinny little noises they made, though admittedly they were enthusiastic and determined. But it gets worse.

There was a discussion on stage after that fiasco about removing me. Chancellor Bass wanted me gone; Vice Chancellor Scarlett was not in attendance but Virginia took up my cause. After all, it wasn't my fault, she claimed.

"Well, Black, do something," the first three rows heard Bass demand of our Head of Security.

"I am not an engineer or a chemist," Black replied. "Do you want me to shoot them off him?"

Oh, yeah, my girl Bass wanted that – so bad. Of course, what she really wanted was for Black to miss, but that wasn't going to happen. Finally, the teachers decided to soldier on. When Chancellor Bass stepped up to begin services, the frightening fur-balls belted out 'Hail to the Chief.'

No one said a word – not a murmur. Chancellor Bass stopped and the munchkin chorus stopped too. Two more starts later and she gave up and grudgingly took the 'praise' from my infestation. They were good throughout the message and sermon but took up 'Hail to the Chief' when she tried to leave the podium.

"Do something!" she screamed at Black. This time, Gabrielle sedately headed my way. I didn't want to think of the pain coming my way. My little buddies had my back. When she got within five feet the all screamed -- and I mean SCREAMED -- in the loudest cacophony most of us present had ever heard. I saw something I thought I would never see; Gabrielle flinched.

Not so oddly, I was fine, hearing almost nothing. The little guys on my ears soaked up the sound so I received a very watered-down version of what they were doing. Gabrielle fell back and at the five foot mark, the little guys shut up – mostly. They seemed to be making comforting noises to one another, like one Zane-sized colony of brown mold.

"Get away from him; just get away from him," good old Dr. Melrose Bass pleaded as she moved her hands away from her ears. "Braxton, you stop this right now." I had a wee beastie on my mouth and Bass was not on the small list of people I would devour this thing for. If she's looking for a conversation today, she's out of luck. She throws her hands up in desperation and starts to storm off.

My little cock-sucking furry gonads (yes, I was getting angry) fired up 'Hail to the Chief' yet again, and kept at it until she sat down. Virginia got to thinking it's appropriate to call for the end of this travesty but she's dealing with Cordelia Dresden, Top Gun of the Time Lord Mafia. The weapon of choice; 'She's a Lady' by some guy named Tom Jones – the ladies in my life will inform me about this later.

For a half a second she tries to fight her smile but she surrenders, even letting the little guys go through the entire score before talking. The little tinny voices were humming a song I didn't know but damn it, it made me want to take Virginia out to a smoky Jazz club and dance until the sun came up. Virginia actually started tapping her foot to rhythm and I began thinking I might not be able to beat Cordelia. I'm not used to that sensation.

"Okay, now, whoever is doing this has put Zane through enough and should remember that we should, as Christians, make students feel safe and not make them subjects of humiliation," Virginia addressed the student body. "I think we can end Assembly fifteen minutes early today for a little bit of Christian charity. We can do it at Zane's first class – 204 Denning Hall."

By the way, I apparently have a play list. As Virginia headed back, the fella's changed it up with 'Baby Got Back'. I wanted to die. Virginia Goodswell has a truly fine ass, of this there is no doubt – I often compare it to Barbie Lynn's – but please. Virginia stopped, turned toward me with a dazzling smile and waggled her finger at me, then resumed her way to her seat.

How is any of this my fault? I imagine I was lucky it wasn't the Thong Song. I would have died, then come back as the undead to take Cordelia to hell with me. It was with some relief that Vivian and Hope rallied to my side. They had to both keep other students away – the other girls loved poking me in different critters to make them call out in different pitches and tenors, which was pleasant to hear if you liked overdosing on helium.

Surprise, surprise; no one came to my succor before English class. I couldn't sit down. Okay, I tried, but any part of my body that bent or that I sat on screamed bloody murder until I got off of it or stopped putting on the press. I've heard about girlfriends like this but I've always assumed I would have the courage to jump out of a 50 story building to escape.

What do you do if they come with you when you jump besides basking in the vicarious thrill that comes from crushing half of them beneath you before you go? I managed to do okay standing in the rear of the class, only once giving in to the crushing fatigue of holding my arms somewhat elevated for two hours. The two under my arms were especially cooperative and didn't get too vocal when my arms did slip to my sides.

I couldn't do a thing about the occasional girl twisting in her seat but either Raven's glare or Goodswell's cough brought their eyes forward once more. At the end of class, Virginia decided to call Ms. Black and have her take me to the Vice Chancellor's office to end this matter. Vivian and Mercy provided support while Gabrielle kept her distance and cleared a path.

Rio helped out by playing my musical miscreants as if they were a drum set while some part of the 700 members of my new posse and I yelled at her to leave us alone. She really is my best friend. My tragically slow pace was not my friend and everyone had to depart for their classes before I finished the arduous travel to the Administration Building. Gabrielle's eyes measuring you for a casket is a remarkable motivator but didn't stop Rio from blowing a kiss to her "Mi Negro Naughtiness". I know, I know; one day, Rio is just going to vanish without a trace.

"Ms. Reveal, I need an emergency meeting with the Vice Chancellor," Ms. Black requested of Dr. Scarlett's personal assistant. Ms. Reveal didn't miss Gabrielle keeping her distance from me. She did make the call and I noticed the pictures of Ms. Mittens were still in evidence.

"Who are you inside that suit?" Ms. Reveal asked me.

I guess she assumed I wasn't a real baby Sasquatch; I was really a baby Sasquatch disguised as a half-baked marshmallow. If three geeks and a man working beneath his means jump out at me with proton-packs, I am running for my life – which is to say 'I'm going to die.'

"This is Zane. He is not being rude – he can't speak," Ms. Black was kind enough to cover for me.

"Oh, I understand," Ms. Reveal nodded, but in such a way that expressed she didn't understand anything. "You two can go in now," she said several awkward seconds later.

"Zane, you move as close to Ms. Reveal's desk as you can while I get the door for you," Gabrielle instructed me. "Come in when I call for you."

I'm sure Marisol Reveal was curious as to why Gabrielle was dancing around me, trying to keep her distance. We almost made it; right as she made it to the doorway, Dr. Scarlett opened the door and attempted to see what the delay was. She was actually putting an award on a shelf she had just received – the reason she missed Assembly, if you find that suspicious – and was placing it on a shelf near the door.

Gabrielle responded as any slightly unbalanced killer would do; she spun around, pulled out her gun from the unseen Realm of the Gods of War, and pointed it at the stunned Victoria. That took her one half-step too close to me and my little fellas let the world know it. I will give them this much; they were still defending my eardrums.

By the way Marisol was holding her ears as her tears flowed down her face it must have been pure agony for her since I was right next to her. Gabrielle scoped up Victoria and sprinted into her office and they obediently shut up.

"Za- – Zane, what was that?" Marisol blathered. Since the furry meatball gone bad was still on my lips and I hadn't become that hungry, I kept my silence.

"Zane!" Gabrielle called for me. I did my best to shrug but it wasn't like I had a neck anymore so I don't know what she made of my movement. I shuffled to the door and got a few good squeaks as I moved inside. I was more than a little disturbed by the reaction I received from Dr. Scarlett when she saw me from her seat behind her desk. She looked at me and I swear, hand to my heart, she had an orgasm.

"You are covered in Tribbles," she gasped. I had no fucking clue what a Tribble is but apparently, I was in the vast minority. I staggered forward and since Gabrielle was on the right side of the room, I angled to the left. I move halfway around Dr. Scarlett's desk so that Gabrielle could go close the door, where she took up post and, from what happened next engaged a Romulan Cloaking Device – whatever the Muggle-tech that is.

Victoria was in some sort of dream-like trance. When she started stumbling around the desk toward me, I waited for the musical assault that never came. To my credit, I caught on in a second. If these creatures existed, singing wasn't their normal activity, and Cordelia wanted these little 'Squeaky Meals' to be as real as possible – for Victoria. I was nothing but bait.

Victoria reached out to caress the same one Christina had placed over my heart. The little bugger cooed and Victoria clamped her thighs together to contain another orgasm that coursed through her loins. Cool, all I have to do to feel the wonders of Victoria Scarlett is dress myself in furry grapefruit. I'm kicking myself for not seeing this obvious ploy.

She touches more and each makes a subtly different purr of pleasure. This goes on and on until she's cuddled up against me, her arms stroking over my back and rubbing her left leg up and down mine.

"Vice Chancellor, you do realize Zane Braxton is TRAPPED inside those – contraptions," Gabrielle sounds the slightest bit peeved.

The troops all make those little high-pitched notes of longing as Victoria retreats a few steps, bringing Victoria almost to the point where she launches herself back into me to comfort her little friends. I am second fiddle to a discombobulated guinea pig; sometimes a man can feel pretty small.

"Okay. How did this happen to you, Zane?" Victoria asked.

"He cannot talk; one of those Tribbles is attached to his lips," Black stated, "by an unknown force. Before you ask; I am not an engineer or chemist." Victoria made this adorable little 'o' expression, then reached for an offending Tribble.

"It hurts him to remove them," Gabrielle got out just in time.

"Does it hurt the Tribble?" Victoria inquired. Gee, thanks, Vic.

"Hold your ears," Gabrielle commanded. Well, I couldn't comply, and Victoria had only started to scream 'stop' when Gabrielle materialized a knife and speared 'Diddley-boo' off my shoulder.

I heard the little guy's death wail, then his death rattle, as Gabrielle pulled him/her away until she was out of screaming range. Diddley-boo (no, I have no idea what his/her name really was but I'm going to have ICE check his immigration status when all of this is over – wait, I can't do that; Gabrielle wacked the little snot and giving her up to the Feds is a great way to create many widows and orphans) was still twitching erratically while Victoria was stuck between ecstasy and horror.

"You are a Klingon agent!" Victoria gasped as she pointed an accusatory finger at Gabrielle. I am vaguely aware that they are the stock-villains of Star Trek Universe and this odd snapshot of rightly tight, athletic buns in tighter pants, but the reference memory for the scene escapes me. By the facial reaction Gabrielle gives, Victoria just called candy sweet, or jalapenos hot; she appreciates the comparison.

All the surviving members of the Tribble tribe wept a cacophony of pain and loss. I would have had more sympathy if their moans had not been vibrating my body like a jello mold.

"Romulan," Gabrielle countered; the other stock Trekkie villains, but they have better teeth. First amongst our Honored Dead, DB hardly quivers as Ms. Black dissects it.

It bleeds/oozes and appears to be a living organism of some kind, but Gabrielle points to several electronic devices, a CPU, and wires connecting all kinds of things inside the organic body.

"It is an organic husk over a sensory/auditory device," Gabrielle tried to explain.

"Oh, my God," Victoria's mind worked feverish to defy reality, "they've been turned into Borgs."

She tore the one attached to my lips off. I didn't cry like a televangelist publicly begging God for forgiveness for a moment – or 147 moments – of weakness with a rather sad-looking prostitute, but that was coming.

You see, Victoria gripped her weeping diminutive fuzzy engine of humiliation tightly when she yanked it off, so she let go of it because the little blighter sounded hurt.

It gave off a more muted and mournful 'wee' as it smacked into the corner of my mouth. I was able to dodge a direct hit.

"Scarlett," Gabrielle seethed, "if – you – would – listen – for – a – moment; they are painful to be removed from his flesh and they will attempt to reattach themselves to him if they are brought within one foot. I have no idea why."

"Zane, are you in much pain?" Dr. Scarlett inquired while scanning my body fungi.

"Yes, but I'm sure if you kick me in the nuts, I'll feel better," I mumbled through a joke.

"I can't do that," Victoria gasped. "You have Tribbles down there." Yes, I feel special.

"That's it," Gabrielle snapped. "I'm going to get help." She spun around and breezed out the door, slamming it in her wake.

"Thanks for abandoning me, Gabby," I shouted as loud as I was able. "It's not like Vic's totally lost her mind or anything like that."

"I have not lost my mind," Victoria responded with a deceptively calm, soothing tone. She reinforced my calm by locking the door, then locking in the deadbolt – yes, I felt much safer.

My merry band of orphan coconuts helped things along the cliffs of sanity by cooing and 'talking' to Victoria as she walked around the office, and she gaily responded to them.

"Ms. Reveal, this is going to be a difficult intervention. Inform me when lunch time gets here," Victoria communicated to her assistant, then added, "I need a box of outdoor trash bags; leave them at the door."

Having a hot lady like Victoria Scarlett lock the door and asking for almost 3 hours of 'alone' time with me is a mature pipe dream of mine – and that dream really meets a bloody end when she asks for roughly 30 bags with a fifty-gallon capacity each. If she pulls out a hacksaw or a 'cow-stunner,' I'm racing for the window behind the Doc's desk. I'll be gone in 90 seconds – sort of like an inexpensive microwave dinner.

Dr. Scarlett returned to her desk, turned her spy-cam around, and started making calls. I honestly maintained a miniscule hope that she might still help me. She was talking curtly to another doctor whose name I didn't recognize. What came out of her mouth next sounded like a combination of eating raw meat all your life and gargling with sand regularly; add to that an inflection of someone wanting to kick elementary kids into the paths of oncoming busses and you had the language she was using.

Victoria's stance even changed. She thrust out her chest, put her hands on her hips, and a predatory sneer took up permanent residency on her lips. She even beat on her desk hard during this little exchange before laughing in a way that made kittens piss on themselves before you hung them.

"Vice Chancellor, Dr. Victoria Scarlett – umm – what's going on?" I said careful.

I'm not so much terrified of Victoria at this point, as I am suspicious of my ability to fight at the moment.

"Everything is fine, Zane," Victoria assured me. "In essence, I am bringing in some experts in the field. You can trust me on this; we've been expecting contact like this for years." Huh?

"So – aaahhh – that was an Albanian Biologist?" I hoped.

"No, that was Vor' Dura, Flight Leader of the Blood Quasar Fleet of the Klingon Empire," Victoria explained sedately, in the same way any SANE individual described a Navy Commander. She turned her computer screen so I could see the person's profile pic.

"How does she breathe in that thing?" I wondered. "That's one hell of a corset."

"That isn't a corset, Zane, its body armor. My suit was created by the same armorer," she stated.

"You have something like that?" I boggled.

"Yes, the precise same suit. Vor' Dura is not as blessed by her bloodlines – she's shorter – but otherwise, we are identical; our alliance ended recently and soon she must face me in ritual combat; yield or die." 'Yield or die' isn't what is centermost in my mind.

"Don't your boobs ever pop out of that thing?" Because if you have been paying any attention; I am an idiot where sex is even a remote possibility. Victoria can't meet my gaze but turns as red as her namesake.

"On a few occasions," she confessed. I'm thinking 'a few'. "Now I have a few more calls to make."

Yes, she's lost her ever-loving mind, and I have no reasonable expectation of exit or rescue. I won't be able to get up enough speed to bust out of the window so being on the first floor is meaningless. She has the deadbolt key and when I stack up my Tribbles against her Science Fiction fanaticism, I lose. She turns the monitor around and makes her next call. This one starts with the victory salute, but the one done with two fingers to each side.

"Excellent news," Vicky declares. "We have confirmation of the temporal events from Deep Space Nine. I have compelling data that I have encountered genetic derivatives of the dominant herbivorous life forms of Iota Geminorum IV." And everything went to turkey-based insanity after that. Again, they spoke rapidly in a language I knew nothing about. They acted like giddy little schoolgirls – just schoolgirls with their emotions surgically removed.

The final call went much same way except that this time, the tone of the language was like the second but with the taint of a sleazy pimp or grifter thinking she was a mob boss. These were the kinds of girls you never let babysit your kids if you ever wanted to see them again. The way Vic looked at me and the fellas made me worry about how long I could last in her brothel and inspired an unexpected sympathy for these pests.

"Zane, do you promise to stay here while I, ummm, get some, ummm outfits?" Victoria requests respectfully. She realizes she's asking me a bizarre favor. Balthazar's Balls, I've been tied to a cross; how much worse can this be? She scoots up to me, kisses me chastely on the lips and waits.

"It is a given that my morning class schedule is toast, and I'm no stranger to the entertainment industry so knock yourself out," I allow, " but I will have to pee at some time."

"Check; I'll stop by the infirmary and get a catheter," she nods, then she kisses me lightly on the lips once more. "Thank you for this, Zane."

She's off like a shot but is careful enough to get the deadbolt on the way out. Since I doubt Ms. Reveal can get a fire-axe through the door if the building catches fire, my buddies and I really are going to experience total protonic reversal on a life-ending scale. Only now does it occur to me that these fuzzy navels might have toxic side effects.

I'm waiting around for God-knows how long when I hear some muffled noises – more muffled than having a Tribble in my ear.

Scratch, scratch – "Girl, you get away from that door," Ms. Reveal shouted (I guess).

"Quick, Mercy, hold her back," Rio shouted in response. "This deadbolt is a bitch."

A scuffle ensued and I tried to shout loud enough to call Rio off when I heard two rapid-fire thumps.

"Thank you, Ms. Black," Marisol Reveal huffed. Mercy had put up quite a fight, I guessed. "I will formally press charges when the Vice Chancellor returns."

"You will go and sit your ass behind your desk, you incompetent buffoon," Black snapped. "I will deal with this and if you bother me again today, or mention this incident to Scarlett, I swear you will never see your cat again; and if you don't hop-to in the next six seconds, I'll make an audio recording of me strangling that shit-dumper and play it by your bedroom window every night until you go mad. Do I make myself clear?"

"Ugh," is all I make out, but I hear Marisol's chair squeak soon after. The sound of a body, or bodies, being drug off faded away as Black left the office and headed down the hall. Hell, I warned Marisol. I can't do anything for Rio right now and I don't have too long to ruminate.

"Marisol, are you okay?" I hear Victoria ask her assistant. It is a testament to their bond that even the hysterical Doctor doesn't miss her friend's distress.

"Sorry, Victoria, I'm a bit – umm – heart-sick is all," Marisol murmurs. "Don't you worry about it."

"Well, when you want to talk about it, let me know," Victoria stated. Marisol must have nodded because no words were spoken and Victoria came in with two carry-on bags and three dress bags while kicking the trash bag box ahead of her. Happy fun time was about to begin.

"Sorry for the wait, Zane," Victoria told me.

"Doctor," I made a desperate Hail Mary plea for reason, "you are a highly respected educator. We really need to take a step back and re-examine what's going on here."

"Zane, this is my first teaching job ever," she related as she checked on the progress of her 'Trekkie' Posse.

"My doctorate is in Philosophy; my Master's Degrees are in Comparative Religions and Women's Studies," she informed me. "All my graduate work was done as a researcher. I've never had a student." I blink dumbly at her; and here I thought my opinion of the Board of Directors couldn't get worse.

Victoria goes over the language dance with her friends, switching fluidly from tongue to tongue in a manner that impresses and even fascinates me; and I've been to Bangkok where if you are trying to buy and/or sell anything and don't speak at least ten different languages or dialects, you might as well hand them your wallet or purse and go home.

"Who do we need?" Vic said in English (just making sure everyone knows that the Tribbles aren't suddenly translating for me).

"Kar'Thon," Vor' Dura states eagerly; "This matter is a racial imperative."

"Are you sure the young man is old enough?" The second woman inquired. "Jarrod went all obsessive last time a boy crossed our path. We almost sent the kid to college."

"That's what you get for marrying a Ferengi," Dura snidely remarked, and the rest laughed along with it; meanwhile, I'm going 'a what?'

Some infighting goes on until Victoria and 'I married a Ferengi' call for peace, then babble a little more. Then the name 'Zane Braxton' comes up and I'm not sure I'm happy or sad that only one of them replies in what was clearly elation and surprise – the sleazy one knows of me.

"Zane, I need to surgically remove some of the alien organisms," Victoria tells me.

"It is going to sting like hell," I mutter, to which Vor' Dura says something and sleazy girl laughs. I do not like where this is going at all. On the bright side, Victoria doesn't rip one off of me right away; she goes over to one of the dress bags and opens it up.

She's pulling out bondage gear – oops, my bad; she's getting ready to put on Klingon body armor. I have lost all preconceptions of what I was dealing with once Scarlett began stripping in front of me. She even gave me an appreciative smile and I was the one who was doing the appreciating! The little fuckers started going off. Remember, they don't like being moved and I was moving some around at the moment.

No, my legs and arms were perfectly still but my crotch was striking up a chorus – its Handel's Messiah. There was this 'still' moment where Victoria stopped opening her blouse and the three strangers regarding me through the webcam became mute; then the laughter began. Victoria resumed her stripping but she couldn't stop smiling and snickering slightly.

The three – the Klingon uber-cook or whatever she was and her two unknown accomplices – were laughing so hard they could barely communicate. It got better; when I was fully aroused and stopped moving around my pants, they didn't shut up and I was suddenly, desperately searching my mind to know how long that song was.

This was because Vic got down to her – Oh, fuck – this white thong – and calling it white is generous as it looks like someone stole an under-achieving spider's web and gently placed it over her crotch – and I know my hard-on was not going anywhere but into something before it went away.

Victoria was working her make-up on when two of the voices got themselves together enough to ask something. Vic looked up at the web-cam, over to me, then said a few sentences.

"So, which one of you likes your ankles placed behind your ears?" I politely asked in Thai.

"What was that, Brax' Zane?" Victoria asked.

"I'm curious if I can take your virginity with my tongue?" I continued in Thai.

"I cannot understand you," Victoria said again. "What are – ah –"

"I think we should engage the Federation citizen in the Galactic Basic," the second voice requested of the room. The third voice, the sleaze, said one more then in her native tongue, then the second voice, and Victoria jumped on her.

"I said, 'I think the native is getting restless'," sleazy girl grudgingly repeated. "Now, I think we should see if our plan 1.0 can be implemented."

"Before the scourges make themselves hoarse shrilling out the hellish noise or I lose patience, transport over there, and kill them myself," Dura growled playfully. I'm glad someone else was having fun. Victoria walked up and took a deep breath, which caused her well-disciplined, thirty-ish breasts to bounce tantalizingly close. Her look was desperately fearful yet almost childlike too.

"Kar'Thon, I desperately require your assistance before these creatures drive me mad," I tried to sound masculine yet pleading. On the computer screen, Dura quickly slammed her right fist to her right shoulder; I was later to learn that was a salute.

"This is no way for a Starfleet cadet to die," Victoria beamed at me, "even if I know I must someday slaughter you in battle." Whoa, I've never considered NASA as a career choice.

Maybe Klingon bondage gear/standard uniform could change my mind. The first person to tell me university life is boring I will punt to the Moon.

"I am T'Luminareth of the Vulcan Science Academy and Reserve member of the Starfleet Exploration Corps here," the second voice spoke up. I caught sight of a picture of her with this...troll? Or maybe a dwarf with the worst case of cauliflower ear ever. "I would like to assure you that every logical effort is being put forth on your behalf."

"Is that right, Tight Luminescence? Is it going to kill you to show a fellow sentient an ounce of compassion when you know he is about to suffer a fatal toxic shock from prolonged exposure to these vermin?" the third girl snarkily interjected into the conversation. "I'm Hical Cretak, Romulan freebooter and purveyor of ancient, exotic, and misunderstood goods."

"You are a thief, and since you aren't in some asteroid prison, you must be an above average one," I said to the Romulan. "I confess that I am a bit happier to see a member of the Vulcan Science Academy since – well – I'm suffering a splintered memory. Some things make perfect sense but large details are simply missing." I figured I could provide Victoria some good game.

She began rubbing my crotch and there was an effect alright – two in fact. The simple and expectant one was my trouser titan trying to unchain itself so it could get revenge on all of Victoria's orifices for taunting him so. My torturous tiny titmice began belting 'Let's get it on' by Marvin Gaye. I think as an infant, I had a mobile playing this song in my crib.

I started to really admire T'Luminareth's acting ability because she alone kept it together. Victoria made larger and larger circles over my crotch up to my beltline while Dura and Hical lost it hysterically.

"Pssst," I murmured to Victoria. She looked at me and I darted my eyes toward her makeup kit and clothes. I am getting more clothes on her – why?

Besides, I'd gotten a better look at her suit and it didn't have a butt-zipper that said 'Come Get Some,' but those pants rolled down like a candy wrapper and that 'body armor' has a back flap. I'd have to get Rio a set and I doubted Victoria would deny me her armorer's number. I was definitely looking into getting Mercy a matching Orion Slave Girl outfit – and here people don't think I make constructive use of my time.

I was sure Victoria/Kar'Thon was breaking speed records to get herself ready while the other ladies began talking to me about a whole universe that was brand new to me. Getting three different and very conflicting versions of the rise of the Human-dominated Federation of Planets was amusing.

Out of the blue, T'Luminareth decided she was going to create a team to rapidly move to my planet and take me back for further study. Vor' Dora countered that and Hical gleefully sought out salvage rights for the wreckage of the two expeditions.

"That might not be possible," I intervened. "Some of what you've told me has fused some memories together." They all fell silent.

"At Starfleet Academy, an Engineering Team and a select group of cadets," I continued to fantasize, "were directed to work on a...phased ionic drive." Ion drive was 'old' tech, or so Hical had let slip. "The drive failed catastrophically and we couldn't save the impulse drive – power was failing – we couldn't transport. The phased ionic drive detonated in the planet's atmosphere, creating a trans-harmonic disruption. I don't know if there were other survivors of our vessel. I saw another vessel either investigating our explosion or attempting a rescue but they burned up on their approach," I looked pained. "I don't think I could communicate with them and the only survivor I could locate was Kar'Thon."

"Only a combination of our two vessels' technology has been able to punch a hole through the disruption and I'm not sure how long this effect will last." I now sounded grim but determined. "We probably need three things: We need to know if there were any special modifications to the Klingon Scout vessel because I don't think it was a standard model to get so close to an experimental Federation vessel."

"Secondly, someone needs to pry out of Starfleet the precise specifications of that vessel, and that's definitely not me," I confessed. "Finally, we need to find a way to fuse those two designs together because if Tribbles are already being affected by an increased magnetic field, how much longer do we have before even the planet's magnetic field collapses totally and we fry (a SciFy movie plot, thank you)."

Once more, there was silence and I was afraid I'd stepped way beyond my bounds. Only when I took in the masked facial expressions of Kar'Thon did I realize I'd done well. I was hit with the realization I was a word and a whisper away from having sex with her, she was so pleased with me.

"I have friends at Starfleet Academy and they might be able to shed a light on what their cadets were up to," T'Luminareth stated serenely, but I could see a fire in her eyes. "I will research into every work published on Phased Ionic Drives, and we may be forced to work on a theory of what went wrong in case Starfleet is not forthcoming."

"Not that I admit that the Klingon Empire ever had any such vessel operating in the area –" Vor' Dura got out before Hical Cretak interrupted.

"You have an officer on the damn planet, you cowardly idiot," mocked Hical.

"I am a deserter," Kar'Thon declared. "I would say I was a 'scum of the Orion Colonies' but I found that you already claimed that title," she aimed at Hical.

"You must die, you traitorous dog," Dura jumped on the offered plum. Thon/Victoria wasn't a deserter but she was ready to take one for the team, so to speak. "The Klingon Empire cannot allow your stain on our honor to exist. Now that we finally have you pinned down, we are coming to end you once and for all, and if the Federation insists on harboring a traitor (we were theoretically in Federation space) then –"

"I owe you a death, Vor' Dura," Thon seethed; "your death."

"You may not enter Federation space," T'Luminareth insisted.

"Before you two go to war – again – why don't you let me go in," Hical mediated. "I'm a free trader and have been to both Federation and Klingon planets."

"You are a spy," Vor' Dura growled.

"Being a successful agent doesn't make you any less of spy for your Romulan Senate," T'Luminareth seemed almost furious.

"Unfounded rumors started by my –" Hical almost finished before the Tribbles screamed. Not as loud as they had for Ms. Black, but they now didn't like Thon around either – now that Victoria was a Klingon. Cordelia scares me; this time Hical had the little 'hiccup'.

"This is going to be fun," she chuckled, barely above a whisper.

"I will get these vermin no matter how much they hurt the frail human," Kar'Thon snarled, but Victoria's eyes blazed with fanatic amusement. I was mildly curious if she could even respond to her true name but decided not to test that. She pulled out a rather wicked looking knife that I had to double-take to make sure it was plastic.

The conversation went on around us as fictitious bits of data collided with innuendo, falsehoods, threats, and lies. This was roleplaying by some actors who took it as serious as any hardcore amateur could be. It was clear to me why Victoria chose to cut loose with these women – they could keep up and they could keep her secret

.

With some clever knife-work (she and Valarie should compare notes; how I start that conversation,I haven't yet figured out.) and the trash bags, Kar'Thon liberated me from the varmints and the fuzzy nightmares from me. Oh, they screamed and hollered and kept at it even after the trash bags were tied shut.

The only thing I felt bad about was the sinking suspicion that tens of thousands of lives could have been saved around the globe if the Time Lord Mafia had devoted the energy that had gone into creating these Tribbles into some frivolous pursuit like ending world hunger or reducing our dependence on foreign fuel.

My skin survived the 'party' with less abuse than I had feared. The 'team' decided that my sweat created a non-magnetic substance that weakened the bond that held them to me. The Federation and Klingons both claimed they would not kidnap me into some secret facility – and they all lied; my rectum was getting probed unless I saved myself!

My clothes – yes, the clothes Iona picked out for me – were made of sterner stuff and Kar'Thon delicately removed those Tribbles located there. Truthfully, she treated my clothes as gently as any five year old treats wrapping paper on a present on Christmas morn. Thankfully, I wasn't naked when the time came – I had on her 'Vulcan' skirt.

At 11:42, Hical Cretak had finally managed to wrangle enough help from both the Federation and Klingons and was about to pierce the atmosphere. If Hical betrayed the Klingons, Vor' Dura and Kar'Thon agreed that I had to die – yea, me! Apparently, my sweat was too valuable, though Dura convinced Thon to lick my chest to make sure, at which point both the Romulans and the Federation (in the name of science) insisted they observe a taste test as well.

Without a doubt, my life is a living hell as long as we don't talk about me fondling Thon's breasts while making those second and third journeys from well beneath my navel (she had to push my penis aside to get lower) all the way up to my lower lip. Seriously, working with Klingon scientists totally explains their Superpower Galactic status. Just looking at two of them makes me want to surrender so I can be processed and interrogated by one.

After some serious talking, once again in languages I couldn't understand (though I think I know the word cadet now in Klingon, Vulcan, and Romulan), the rest of her friends thanked me and wished me well before signing off. Victoria remained completely silent as she raced to clean up and change back to her 'secret identity' – that of Vice Chancellor Dr. Victoria Scarlett, mild-mannered crusader for Christian Women's Rights.

Right as the phone rang there was a violent pounding on the door. You don't have to be Wormtail to know that it was Sirius Black at the door and the gig is up. Victoria ran to the door and unlocked it while calling out, "Coming – coming – coming," until the door opened. Gabrielle's scowl caused the flowers to weep and the sun to dim.

Thankfully, she brought some witnesses so carnage was unlikely. Cordelia, Iona, and Pandora Jaspers had come as well, with fresh clothes, a bucket, some washcloths, two spray bottles, and a towel. Black's advance caused Victoria to back-pedal until her ass was against her desk. The TMI came in and shut the door behind them.

"That won't be necessary," Gabrielle stated with chilling menace. "I think an adult male can wash and dress himself; so should Zane. Everyone else – put down your stuff and exit the room." She held up a hand to stop Victoria as the others responded without protest and left.

"Scarlett," Gabrielle seethed softly, "put on your shoes first."

Oh, yeah, that was embarrassing. Gabrielle studied me as Victoria got her act together, then left me to my own devices. Since the substance they had coated me with (it had been in the showerhead that Iona had put me under) really worked and there were still 200 Tribbles unaccounted for, I took ten minutes to get totally clean.

I then put on the clothes the TMI had provided and if it had been dosed, then I would be totally justified with strangling them all and they knew it. My entry into Ms. Reveal's domain was the cause of renewed silence. Apparently, I can make girls scream out or be quiet; everything else is beyond my control. Victoria was back to her old self, casually sexy.

"Zane," Gabrielle spoke it as neither recognition nor a question – it just hung there.

"Ms. Black, thank you for your forbearance," I responded. She gave a curt nod and left.

"Dr. Scarlett, thank you for helping me through this," I smiled. "I will never waste your time in this manner again."

"Definitely not in this 'manner'," she smiled. The female Klingon officer vs. male Starfleet cadet confrontation would have to be handled by a different malfeasance, but it was definitely on. She passed into her office and the door slowly shut.

"Zane?" Iona spoke up.

"I'll figure out a way to make Rio understand," I told her as I went up and hugged her, much to Ms. Reveal's dismay. "Just walk softly around her for the next few days." She nodded.

"So, you are not coming after the Time Lords?" Pandora questioned.

"The hell you say," I smiled as we headed for the Dining Hall. "You guys aren't my friends; I'm coming for the rest of you. Now, you and Iona go," I demanded. "Cordelia and I need to chat."

With a worried backward glance, Iona left with Pandora. I stuck my tongue out at her and she giggled because now she was sure she was good.

"Are we good?" Cordelia was asking me yet another question she already knew the answer to.

"We are good, Cordelia," I grinned. "I know what you did."

"What was that, Zane Braxton?" Cordelia tested me.

"Part of it was the Court Jester syndrome," I regarded her smartly. "You just made me a fool in front of hundreds of girls who fear and hate me; they were able to take an active part in my ridicule, but this is going to rob them of the strength of that emotion to oppose us. It is hard to feel strong negative emotions about a baby Sasquatch," I added with a smile.

"I was aiming for either an Ewok with a growth spurt or a grumpy mute Wookie," she smiled back.

"I wanted to be one of the twelve Albanian fishermen that conquered China," I bantered, "but you didn't give me any fishhooks. Albanians are hairy; right?" The look in her eyes said she knew the Executioner series.

"The other part?" she teased. Most likely, she liked hearing the sound of my voice close up.

"With you, making assumptions is never a good thing," I treaded carefully. "My gut says that Victoria is safe but I want to make sure that what happened in her office this morning stays among a highly selected few and Victoria is never confronted with this."

"You know she is safe, for blackmail was never my plan; I'm sneakier than that, Zane; you are my weapon to hinder and help as needed. You are going to make an incredible genetic contributor," she put her arm in mine.

"You've been talking to Paige too much," I warned her.

"No; Paige has been listening to my – advice," she winked.

"I am still going to win," I asserted.

"I know you will," Cordelia hugged my arm tighter. "I'll make sure of it."

Since she planned to hand me a hollow victory I wouldn't accept, what she really was planning was for round three to be even more fun.

"You owe me," I stated. "Five days of your choice, no panties; you don't need to tell me what days." She nodded. She'll give me these little victories.

"Thank you, Zane," she whispered.

"For giving you the win, the challenge, and not making you out to be the villain?" I asked.

"You keep it fun, Zane. I think only you understand how lonely it is to be me," Cordelia looked up at me once more.

"That's bull crap," I chuckle. "I would never leave a friend behind." And we are friends, which is so weird yet makes total sense.