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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1016279
by Seuzz
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2193834
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#1016279 added August 30, 2021 at 2:44pm
Restrictions: None
The Lieutenant
Previously: "Partners Under the Skin

You are woken by a pleasant, thrumming sensation, as though someone is stroking your nerves like the strings of a cello. You are stiff and drowsy when you open your eyes, and you can't place yourself. But you feel good—very good—as you stare blankly at the ceiling above. Probably you feel so good because someone is eating you out with their tongue.

You are on your back and your knees are raised and your legs spread. A face is pressing down between them, and a nose and mouth are at work in the smooth, sensitive spot between them. God, I hope it wasn't another roofie, you think. That was so embarrassing the time when when—

You tilt your chin and peer down and over your breasts. There's a great mane of golden hair down there, but that's all you can make out. It doesn't look like a guys' hair. Well, whoever she is, you think, there'll be plenty of time to get mad at her later. Right now, though—

Right now you'd like to lay back and enjoy it, but there's something worrying you at the back of your brain. You are sure that you know where you are, but you can't put a name or location to it, only a feeling that you've been here before, doing something very similar. And you're sure you know who that is down there, even though their name and face has slipped your mind. You have the impression you'll be very pleased when you see who it is; and yet, at the same time, you have a feeling of impending horror. This is either going to be awesome, you think, or it's going to be the worst thing in the world.

It turns out to be both, almost simultaneously.

Horror is the first thing to burst over you when the girl lifts her face to gulp down a couple of deep breaths. Oh my God, it's Chelsea down there!

You squeal and try to squirm away. But even as you kick and flail, the room seems to reorient itself, as though shaken loose by a thunderclap, and you remember who you are and how you got here and what is going on. "Oh!" you exclaim, and sag with relief.

"Are you okay, Will?" Chelsea asks. "I was going to just let you wake up, but then I just couldn't help myself and I—"

"No, I'm fine," you pant. "It just took me a minute to— I woke up and I didn't know who I was, and then I saw— Well, I was being Kendra when I looked down and—"

Chelsea titters. "So did Kendra enjoy it?"

"Oh, Jesus." Your muscles seem to melt and puddle off your bones. "It was nice."

Chelsea giggles again. "So come on, tell me. How many times has Kendra let another girl eat her out?"

"None," you admit through gritted teeth.

"None?"

"Well, that I can remember."

Chelsea bursts into gales of laughter, then clambers up to lay atop you. "Well, we're just going to have to make up for lost time. If, mm, you have time."

You blink at the ceiling, then sigh. "What time is it? I think I have to go."

"Basketball practice should have just let out."

"Oh! Then I definitely have to go. My— Kendra's mom is expecting me home." You start to get up.

But Chelsea catches you, and bends over to lick your nipple. "Can you call her, tell her you have to change plans?"

"I have to help fix dinner."

Chelsea pouts. "You're such a good and obedient daughter." She sits up on her knees. "I should buy a riding crop, and then we can—"

"I'll make time for you tomorrow, er, Sydney. Really I will, I promise." You give her a quick embrace. "But I really do have to go."

Chelsea sulks on the bed while you dress. "You know, we were so hot for each other, Will, when we were being Mr. Hagerman and Ms. Cho. Zion and Christine. Don't tell me it was only because of them, because they wanted to fuck each other stupid, and—"

"No, believe me, I can't wait to get my hands on you," you assure her, and leap to give her a quick squeeze. "But right now I just have to go!"

"Hmph." She makes a very Chelsea-like sniff of disdain. "So what about after? Can you come over to my place after dinner? Tell your parents it's a study date?"

"And come here?"

"Well—"

"Because we won't be able to do anything at your house, with your parents around."

"No. Or with Gordon." She makes a face, which gives you a warm feeling. "Yes!" she declares. "We'll come over here, we'll tell our parents we're studying with friends, but—"

"I do have homework. And so do you, I bet," you add as she groans.

"Fine," she groans, "we'll do homework together. But—"

"Then it's a plan." You finish tying a shoe, and lean in again to snatch a final, quick kiss. "Love you and see you later!" You leave her with her mouth hanging open as you scamper off.

Well, what was that about? you wonder to yourself as you drive off back to Kendra's house. Why the fuck was I so hellbent on getting out of there so fast?

* * * * *

It's because Kendra Saunders hates Chelsea Cooper, you decide afterward, as you're eating a preoccupied dinner with your latest set of parents. Though you wanted to stay with Sydney, every fiber and muscle and nerve of Kendra's body was trying to flee, like a hare from a bobcat.

They've known each other for many years, but have never gotten along. Back in middle school they had as little to do with each other as possible, and Kendra always thought Chelsea was setting the other girls after her. Certainly, Kendra did her part to set the other girls after Chelsea.

That changed in high school, but not because they became friends. Chelsea became the "popular one" their sophomore year, and Kendra was sidelined. Worse than sidelined, Kendra felt shunned, and she fought most bitterly against her worst enemy: Gloria Rea.

Then Chelsea came to the rescue by ostentatiously befriending Kendra, which forced all the other girls to— Well, not to "befriend" her, exactly, but to tolerate her and to pretend to be friends with her. This included Gloria, whom Chelsea similarly befriended.

Before she realized what was happening, Kendra discovered that she was completely beholden to Chelsea—if Chelsea ever withdrew her support, Kendra would find herself cast into the outer darkness of high school. Exiled from the best table in the cafeteria, thrown off the cheerleading squad, cold-shouldered by all the other girls, and exiled from all the good parties. Even worse, it would give Gloria the opening she still so obviously craves: the chance to crush and humiliate Kendra once and for all.

So Kendra has to suck up hard to Chelsea, to do all her dirty bidding, and to compete with Gloria to be Chelsea's most loyal lieutenant. But at night she dreams of backstabbing Chelsea, and taking everything away from her ...

* * * * *

So you're not really in an affectionate mood when you meet with Chelsea again at Mr. Hagerman's later that night. But Sydney doesn't push it, and though you pet and stroke each other as you splay on the floor with your books and papers, you keep it very businesslike. Indeed, it's Baphomet business that Sydney wants to talk about.

"I've been trying to figure out how this is going to work, Will," she says. "With this new plan, I think we're going to have to make it a 'sisterhood', not a brotherhood."

"What do you mean?"

"I think we're going to have to recruit girls to it. Exclusively. No guys."

"How come?"

"Boys will be too hard to manage. Particularly if we're going to 'reward' them"—she crooks her fingers around the word—"with desirable identities. They'd be out of control! I mean, can you imagine trying to manage a brotherhood with members like Steve or Seth?" That would be Steve Patterson and Seth Javits, two of the swaggering, asshole basketball stars.

"So I think we'll do better with girls," Sydney continues. "Meghan Farris." She giggles. "She'd do anything to get onto the A team, you know. If we slipped her in for, like, Kelsey, she'd do anything we asked her to!"

"Don't you think Kelsey would be unmanageable?" you ask. "Like Steve?" You shudder a little at the thought of Patterson.

"Not with Meghan in there."

"But if some of the guys we picked—" You break off with a frown. "Yes, I see your point," you say when you resume. If we put in a loser like Keith Tilley for Steve Patterson, he'd get drunk on the testosterone.

But Sydney is still plotting aloud. "The cheerleading squad," she says. "That's the obvious set of identities to use. There'd be a reason for us all to get together, and the girls on it are just the kind we'd want to give as a 'reward'. Well, a bribe."

"I thought we were going to recruit from all the different grades."

"Well, sure," Sydney says after a moment's hesitation. "Don't tell me you don't think none of the sophomore or freshman girls wouldn't kill to take over the life of someone like Cindy!"

No, that's not what you're thinking. You're thinking of a promise that Chelsea made to Kendra some time ago, then reneged on: the chance to make a JV cheerleading squad that she (Kendra) could manage. That could be just as big an enticement for girls in the lower classes as the real cheerleading squad.

Also, you feel like Sydney is losing track of the idea behind her original plan: recruit from the lower classes so there would always be a supply of brothers. If you give all your brothers—er, sisters—the bodies of senior girls, what happens next year when they graduate?

Next: "A Kendra in Character

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1016279