LEESBBIAAANS

He stood staring, his mind diluted by the thoughts of what the old him would have faced stepping through the door. Psh.. the old him. What was he saying? He hadn't changed, right? He just... camouflaged into the background a little more. The small, womanly shaped-stick figure on the polished wooden slab in front of him seemed to stare back, teasing him with her little triangular skirt. As if she could see into his soul, and crush his hopes of secrecy. "You shouldn't wear skirts like these, should you? You're a man!" She'd say something along those lines, anyway. Even so, he was only human... and peeing was kind of a necessity. The giggling and chatting inside easily peaked his curiosity, and he couldn't help but wonder what it must be like. If he had ever entered the girl's bathroom as a boy, consequences would have been immediate. Ear-bleeding screaming, cursing, and most likely, tampons flying towards him at speeds that seem impossible.


Nervous and anxious, he let out a sigh and adjusted the right cup of his bra. The undergarment didn't stay in place well with no boobs to fill it... and to make the small bulges of what were supposed to be his breasts seem more realistic, he had purchased a little plushy child's ball, sliced it in half, and fastened each side into the lacy cotton cups.

Being a girl was uncomfortable. It took effort to smell nice, look nice, and to speak as though he were used to the frilly panties, and sparkly lip gloss. However, seeing as a private school was the only way to start his life over, pretending was worth every bit of it. It would be a hard gig to keep up, but it was his last shot at a good education, and so he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

He immediately walked to the mirror to check up on his appearance. He was slender like a girl.. frail like a girl. A bit taller than most females, but it didn't seem noticeable. His face was pampered with soft powder, and his eyebrows shaped into gentle arches. He wore his hair in a ponytail, the freshly cut ends peaking his over his brow. His main focus was on his make-shift breasts. They seemed fine for the moment, but he'd definitely have to look for an alternative. Mainly, he was trying to focus his attention on the mirror, and avoid eye-contact with the small group of girls that stood next to him, giggling and whispering within the safety of their own circle.

It all seemed in check, but still he was excruciatingly nervous. He straightened out his skirt, took a deep breath, and stared at the feminine face in the mirror, waiting and preying that a stall would open up soon. In the instant that one became unoccupied, he slipped inside, eager to hide from those he was impersonating.

"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK"
It was a shout to wake the entire dorms, for sure. A common occurance the occupants had becoming increasingly used to. With much hostility. Since Elissa had moved into the dorms, which she had yet to share with anyone, something she enjoyed to no end, a fair bit of discourse settled into the wing. Especially that time Red Bull, Monster and Mountain Dew Code Red were mixed together. The lastest obsession however was a game. Dark Souls. Infuriatingly hard to be sure, but so enjoyable! For her at least. The other girls were tired of being woken up from midday naps by enraged howlings of a madwoman.

There were groans from the nearby rooms and some girl even shouted to stop fucking with the Stray Demon already, to which Elissa responded to by throwing a shoe out her open door and dangerously close to a girl. This was all done without looking up from the "You Died" screen. It taunted her. It really did. It stared back at her in it's grey malice, showing her a ragged and twisted reflection. Those pale blue eyes marked by deep sagging bags, curly blonde strands so messy from her head thrashing around in denial. The hole in a shirt exposing raw breast.. Those weren't her's. Those were Gywn's, she knew it. The reflection was just another infuriating phantom brought on by the game. It had to be!

Or maybe it really was her, the girl who'd had no sleep for a few days and survived on nothing but energy drinks because her Haven was about to be invaded. Of all the horrors this game could ravage her with, the Headmistress was by far worse, assigning her a roommate. She sleepily glanced over at the clock on her nightstand, beaten as it was. It was truly amazing it still worked. She'd thrown it at a wall on several occasions, and wanted to again. It was telling her her new roommate would be there in a few minutes, supposedly.

It had officially taken ages until the giggly balls of pink fluff had found their way out of the bathroom and the frustrated, flustered boy could pee in peace. His real name was Zebulon. A fact that gave reason enough to change genders and flee the town. But that wasn't why he had joined an all-girls school. What he was now were shambles of his dreaded past. One he wanted badly to get away from before it devoured him whole. To avoid the abominable name, he went by Z for the majority of middle-school. Zeb every now and then once highschool set in.

He had set up a new identity for the woman he was pretending to be. Cicely J. Highbrooke. Leader of the high school tennis team, avid yoga go-er, and first place in every track-meet since the 8th grade. She couldn't be too perfect... not nearly. But she couldn't fall back behind the rest of the female race. Perhaps then, some would become suspicious.

Stepping out of the stall and washing his hands, Z glanced back to the mirror. His navy-blue irises contrasted well with his neatly-done eyeliner and mascara. It had taken him ages to master the art of makeup, but anything that could help him look more feminine, the better. He was already pretty girly for a dude, skin clear, build frail, and not a hair on his chin. Before, it had gotten him into an array of bullying and teasing that soiled his schooling experience throughout high school. He had never even built up the courage to "accidentally" touch a breast, and now he had his own. Well.. for the most part. His cup size remained small, to give off the appearance of a flatter chest. It would definitely make his life easier if he had been seen without the make-shift lumps.

He flung the excess water from his fingertips and quickly dried his newly-manicured hands. He had gone to every extent to look more and more like a college girl. He even carried perfume, tampons, and compressed powder in his purse, along with a pair of reading glasses - just in case he received any suspicious glances.

He had been faltering in the restroom long enough, and he was due at his dorm any minute. With his purse secured tightly under his arm, he flung his silky black hair over his shoulder, and strutted out of the bathroom, chin held high, the way all respectible women walked.

"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK"

He had heard the frustrated cry from the second floor, glancing at a passerby who tossed her hair behind her shoulder, and scoffed at the obscene language. He wanted to laugh for a moment at how prissy and haughty the women here had behaved. Then for a moment, he wanted to cry, remembering that now he was, in fact, one of those women.

Sighing, he unfolded the crumpled piece of paper that he had stuffed in his pocket shortly after arrival. "Floor 3: 06" the bold letters sat just under his new name, signaling him that his new room was up a flight of stairs. He growled and shoved the paper back into his pocket, kicking off his heels and picking them up to walk barefoot across the hall's regal carpet. Like hell he would make it up a flight of stairs in those fucking shoes.

Once he had climbed up the wooden steps, he walked the dorm halls, searching the wall where the number six would be placed in bold letters, just below his name, and someone else's. The room-mate that he was so.. not eager to meet. Tired, and jittery, he stopped in front of the door that he had been searching for, and gently pried the latch open, revealing a dark room, lit only by a television screen.

With drunken ninja like reaction her cheap clock was hurled with pin-point precision as soon as the door opened even a little,hitting it and shattering to pieces at the same moment a second shriek of 'SHIT' sailed through the air like nails on chalkboard. The Stray Demon callously mauling her character again, for the twenty-seventh time! And now this woman had the tits to just stroll in like she owned the place! Which she technically did now, a fact that aded to Elissa's ire. It was to much. Far to much for any reasonable soul to bear. Let alone this girl.

The "You Died" screen shown again, mocking her yet again as the Demon grunted, almost like a chortle. God help however dared enter the rapid wolves' den now..

She snapped to attention as the door swung open the rest of the way, knocking over a carefully constructed tower of Red Bull cans, each mostly-empty clatter beating against her like a drum of righteous fury. Her eyes fixated on the frail figure immediately, shimmering with the intense fury of a nuclear explosion and her scowl ran as rigid as ice.

"Just who the hell are you!?" She hissed, even though she knew the answer. It was funny how grating her usually delicate voice sounded, funny enough she took notice but wrote it off to sleep deprivation.

He had protruded from the safety of the door, glancing at the shattered clock that had ended it's flight just on the floor below his feet. From the light of the television, he could just barely make out the shadows of the young girl's face. Once that seemed innocent, youthful. Cute, even in the dark.

"Just who the hell are you!?"

Her voice had snagged his attention, and he took in a sudden gasp of breath, his mind failing to find the words he'd hoped would just flow out at the time.

"I'm uh.." A sudden cough sent his voice into a higher-pitch, just enough to sound feminine.

"Cicely. You must be.." He almost didn't want to continue the sentence, for fear he'd get it wrong. It would be like making just the wrong move in a den full of hungry lions.

He had already been awkward with girls, and by the looks of it, he was living with one. A real vicious one. He nonchalantly dropped his purse to the floor, his face twitching with the awkward vibe in the room. He wanted to say nothing at all, to just stop time and take a deep breath. But that wouldn't do.

"..Elissa."

"Hmph.." She scoffed a little, tilting her head to the side as she did so and eyeing the girl with interest. Despite her shark-dead eyes. She seemed normal enough, little tall, and didn't have that prissy air about her like most the stuck up girls around here. She rolled around the bed, off her stomach and onto her back making it easier to reach over to the nightstand again, this time for the lamp.

She winced a little at the sudden burst of soft yellow light, her mind already fleeing from the arrival. It'd only been....Fourteen hours? That she'd been in utter darkness save for the warm blue of her TV screen. It hadn't felt that long, and did she always have this throbbing between her eyes? Already she'd completely forgotten the intruders existence, carefully glancing around the room. It was a mess, and that was an understatement. Empty bottles of all sorts of drinks were strewn about, either laying around or stacked up like various buildings. Even a pyramid. Next to that was about a months worth of panties and bras just thrown in every direction, even on top of the TV. Her bed was a wreck, the spread pulled off and her plaid comforter bunched up in the corner. The only thing that didn't look like a hurricane had hit was the bookshelf next to the low dresser her TV sat on. Every game and DVD carefully in it's place. That she looked at with a smile, until out of the corner of her eyes she spotted Cicely again.

"So your my roommate, huh?" She mused, still on her back with her head hanging off the bed. Bright blonde locks touching the floor, baggy sweat pants pulled low enough to expose the fact she wasn't wearing any panties, sweater pushed up to fully expose a midriff. She noticed the new girl looked about the same upside down as she had right-side up and yawned, closing her pale eyes.

"So, what preppy family are you from?" The words fell from her lips far more bluntly than she intended, but at least her voice ad returned to its normal more melodic pitch.

He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as the messy bundle of innocence stared at him, her gentle blue eyes, reflecting just a bit of light from the lamp beside her. His focus roamed from her face, studying her gentle build. She looked soft. Perfect. Of course, his eyes made way to her chest first, his lips plumped with gloss falling slightly open at the sight of the playfully sexy position in which Elissa lay. He was stunned for the moment, at how something so casual could be so cute. Snapping out of his daze, he quickly reached to the floor, snagging his purse, and strategically holding it in front of him to cover any.. surprises.

"P..preppy family?" The stutter made him want to bite his own tongue off. As if he had never seen a girl before, never purposefully checked out a female's ass before, never watched hours and hours of pure, sickeningly dirty pornography. And now. Now, of all times, he was getting a hard-on.

"No preppy family... I mostly uhm.. I got here on scholarships, to be honest." It was difficult for him to keep his interest on the conversation, his eyes constantly scanning the young girl's bare skin. He shook his head, trying to take his attention off of her subtle hip-bone and soft stomach.

"I got really good grades, see.."

Now was time to shut up. To just prey to god that she wouldn't notice how tightly he gripped the purse to his waist. How red his face was, how hard he was trying to keep his eyes off of her beautiful body.

His composure quickly slipping away, he swallowed hard, voice cracking as he attempted to turn her attention back on herself.

"You?"

She listened as the girl spoke, only moderately interesting. The Cicely over there didn't belong to some uppity family was at least a plus. She wouldn't have to listen to the complaints of, "Daddy bought me a Ferrari, not a Lambo." at least.

One he was finished she yawned again, such a soft sound this time and with no warning her arms shot straight out at the end of it, one leg running up the other in the process of her back arching intensely into a careless stretch. Her muscles, pathetic as they were all rippled in joy as she groaned in that stretch-specific bliss, after countless hours of only thumbs and eyes moving her body was quite grateful. She didn't even notice the fact that her sweater was still caught on something, so the motion had caused it to ride up even more and expose just a little of her right breast. Not that she'd have carried much if she did realize. One, she was half asleep, two they were both girls so it didn't matter much. Still, it was an action that had threatened to make her fall, inching her forward and causing her back to remained so heavily arched. Again it lifted the sweater just a tid, though her nipples were still well hidden. Her head pressed against the cheaply carpeted floor now, hair in a thick puddle all around her face.

She opened one eye, still glaring and with an eyebrow lowered. She didn't quite want this outsider comfortable yet, but. The situation could be worse so hating her on site was unnecessary. "Well poppet," she sighed, her face going red from the blood rushing to it. "Why don't you throw that purse down and make yourself a little useful, yeah? I could use a drink about now to keep awake." The question Cicely had posed was quite easily ignored.

By the time she had even begun to speak, Z had already felt the tingling weakness spread throughout his body. No, no, no, no, no! He forced his eyes away from the object of his already-fuming sexual desire. Before moving, he faltered for a moment, giving discreet tugs to the front of his skirt, just enough to add leeway and conceal any bulging surprises.

Dropping his purse to his feet, he took a few steps into the back of the dorm, cracking open a stubby miniature fridge, and selecting one out of the mass quantities of Red Bull. He moved cautiously, standing at arms length away from the girl, and blinking once or twice as he handed her the cold can, avoiding any and all eye-contact.

He just had to focus his attention on the biggest boner-killers he could think of, which wasn't doing much good when the petite girl's shirt began to descend lower and lower over her soft, plush breasts. His face flushed with heat as he dropped the can to the ground, his legs buckling under him as he tried to contain himself, gripping the ends of his skirt tightly in his fist. He did all he could to control his urges, though the idea seemed impracticable.

This one was a keeper. If she kept listening at least. A warm smile played across her lush lips at the sight of the beautiful little can, even dropping eyes perked a little, showing the zest that existed somewhere in her. She reached out with a contented sigh, high pitched as it was. So perfect, so full of such a sweet, cold liquid her eyes were locked on the majestic words 'Red Bull'. Wrapping her slender fingers around it with a death grip she hastily rolled over which was somewhat a mistake. Though her breasts were now out of view she'd caught her sweats under the other leg and promptly pulled them down, completely exposing her bare ass.

They might've both been girls, but...

She did have modesty. Unfortunately she was far to dizzy from the position she'd been in, so she just laid there on her stomach for a moment while the world stopped spinning. Eventually, and with a blush and a quickly mumbled 'oops' she reached down and uncerminiously pulled the sweats up with one hand while cracking the can with the other. She might've noticed Cicely's condition but she was too busy feeling like a goof for mooning her new roomie. With another huff she hoisted herself up and unto the bed properly, a rather awkward and impressive event, taking a deep swig from the can the entire time.

When all was said and done she sat in the middle of her bed, shoulders slumped and legs crossed. A cascade of blonde hair hiding her bright red face with great ease and nothing but the gentle heaving of her chest, sweater now clinging to her breasts and more or less covering her stomach, with each lazy breath and the slurps of a carelessly chugged drink to indicate she was alive. It seemed an amazingly natural state for her. She did however feel a little bad for ignoring the other girl and once she sapped enough energy from the raw wonder of Red Bull she deiced it wouldn't be to bad to try and talk a little.

She glanced over at the girl, offering another weak smile. "So, what year are you anyway?"

From the angle that Z was seated in, he hadn't seen much. But the quick slip of her sweats had sent an eerie chill throughout his body, forcing his jaw into a clenched position. His face was red for a million different reasons, and his nervousness had his breathing in a frenzy. Still, he kept his eyes on the ground, trying to control the male inside of him.

What year are you? What year are you?! I've only known this woman for ten minutes, and I've already seen the majority of her body. And she wants to know what year I am?

He took a deep breath, calming himself and simmering the ache in his chest, before taking a more comfortable seat on the ground, head rested on the young girl's bed. So long as he didn't have to look at her, he'd be okay.

He closed his eyes and glanced up at the ceiling, a hard swallow making it's way down his throat, and clinging to the syllable of the first word he spoke.

"I'm a Freshman." She seemed to be warming up to him, which considering the circumstances, could be a really awful thing.

"Ooohhh, a Freshie.." The words rolled off her tone in a husky coo as a slender finger tapped against the Red Bull can in a plodding rhythm. She'd meant to sound sinister, to match the ever-so-wicked smirk she gave the other girl, but missed the mark by quite a lot, instead sounding like a cheesy phonesex operator. She didn't notice though, too sleepy, too amused with her new roomie who was actually showing potential in the 'Don't-have-to-be-lit-on-fire' department. Eventually though the smirk faded, her energy crashing again and she fell backwards on her bed, and frankly almost off it, with a squeaky 'Blaaahhhh' sound.

She laid there for a moment, upside down once more, and lying in a untamed mess of her hair she stared at Cicley. The look in her eyes was odd. Something between inquisitive and indignant, but she offered no explanation at first. Eventually she was about to comment, or maybe scream. It was pretty hard to tell with Elissa. She'd even opened her mouth to speak but whatever the words were died off in her throat.

All the sudden her entire body was stiff and rigid, and she just stared at the other girl with a rather intense look in those pale eyes of hers. Without a single explanation, and after a brief silence she only offered a single word in explanation.

"Fuck!"

Moving with the speed of what seemed like a drunken cat she forced herself upright ans slid off her bed, bare feet touching down on the cool floor with a shiver. She stepped over the rubble of cans and clothing and all sorts of other things. Like a bag of Doritos. And picked up the controller she'd set down in a fury when she died yet again and her den had been intruded. She stood there for a second, just kind of distressed. Like she was debating whether she wanted to do this or not. She fiddled with the brim of her sweater for a moment then seemed to take the plunge, a slender thumb pressing the home button.

Once again her body went stiff, you could tell quite easily that every muscle in her locked in tension. Her eyes were locked on the little clock feature, her newest adversary of the day. Each time the little : blinked to indicate a second she felt like she was being taunted. You see, the truth was she was completely..

"Late!" It was more of a whine mixed in with a shout as she shook her head violently, tossing the controller onto her bed. "I can't believe I'm late!" she cried out as her long arms vanished into her sweater, fingers reappearing on the brim and hoisting it off as quick as she could, breasts falling out of it with a sweet little jiggle. By the time it was over her head and on the floor she'd taken a step towards the dresser the TV sat on and her face went about three shades of raw scarlet, arms wrapped around her chest. For a moment she eased herself by idly wondering what her cup-size was up to. Last she checked it was B-something, but that was over a year ago and all her bras fit far, far to tight now. Maybe she was a C-something now. Sadly that diversion didn't last long and hung her head. She didn't have time to fuss with bathrooms or to kick the freshie out, she had to change now! Even if that meant her modesty.

With another, higher pitched whine of exasperation she pushed her sweats down, stepping out of them once they were nothing but a puddle at her feet. She wasn't an athlete, her legs were no muscled beauties or even toned in that sexy way the girls who went to the gym got. They were just incredibly smooth and pale, almost creamy looking, and what little muscle she did have was just visible enough she could pretend she worked out. At least she can only see my back.. Though that fact helped keep her calm, it could do nothing about her blush and the next step she took was quite awkward, her knees locking midway and almost causing her to fall.

So graceful I am.."

"I-I'm sorry.." She said, slowly and awkwardly as the heat in her face rose again. "I-I know you don't want to see this but I just don't have time.." Frantically she tugged a drawer open with such force she almost ripped it out. Luckily it stayed in the dresser, unluckily however her sloppy habits were about to bite her right in the ass. She never put anything away in the same drawers twice like a normal person, and already she knew what happened.

With a pleading groan she pranced in place for a second, still clutching her chest and not liking the situation at all.

"Uh-uhm..Cicley.." Her voice was soft, pretty panic-y. Already showing how she was prone to over reacting to small things. "I-I need you to...To.." She could feel her blush intensifying and deiced it would be best to just get it over with. "Ineedyoutoreachintothetoprightdrawerinthedresserbehindyouandgetmesomepanties!" She blurted it so fast she doubted the other girl caught it all, but she hoped. And above that she hoped she'd actually put her panties in that drawer. If not....She'd have to turn around and go over there herself.

But it shouldn't matter, should it? She was being a bit of a baby, right?

They were both girls after all.

For a moment, he thought he was going to faint. The subtle jiggle of her perfectly shaped breasts, moving against the gravity of her body. Her nipples, soft and only slightly erect as they protruded from the gentle lumps on her chest.

Soon her pants had disappeared, too and he simply sat, nearly forgetting to blink.

Her curves were girlish, yet with a teasingly sexy shape that simply called to Z; begging him to reach out and run his fingers along her smooth skin. To feel the ridges of her subtle collar bone, the firm, but soft build of her plush breasts. To feel every curve of her stomach, as his hands made their way down, further and further...

The request for panties nearly hadn't registered with him, but when they did, fear struck his chest. How would he move? Something as simple as getting up and walking, was just not an option. Instead he wanted to pull her towards him, to lock his lengthy arm around her waist and plant a kiss on her sweet cheek, to feel the heat of her skin against his lips, and to hear the quiet breath as she registered what had happened.

"Uhm.. uhm yeah." He shook from the sexual daze, pulling himself to his feet. Luckily, he would have to turn to her and reveal things that should stay well covered until her departure. Stiff and uncomfortable, he took his time approaching the dresser, and gently slid out the top drawer. In messy bundles were a colorful array of panties. Frilly, patterned, lacy. He reached inside and selected one, plain white fabric with a small pink bow in the front.

"Here." He called, tossing the panties over his shoulder, and preying that they would land somewhat in proximity to her. He had no idea how much longer he could hold, nor hide his urges.

"You should uhm.. hurry, right?" He focused his attention on the drawer, nervously toying with the handle as he slid it back into the dresser.

Hope had filled her for a moment as the girl had agreed, going so far as to relax her body a little, stretching her legs once more. Of course, like most times that was dashed in a split second. The soft, somewhat muffled click of the analogue stick on an Xbox controller made her freeze.

The idiot THREW her panties! Without even looking it seemed. That completely defeated the purpose of everything because now she had to turn around to pick them up! A prospect that made her quite uncomfortable and kept her cheeks rosy red. It was silly of her, she knew it. She was already late AND childish! It was time to end it. They were both girls, Cicely could just deal with some tits until Elissa found a shirt. With a soft, rage-filled growl she spun around on her heel, revealing the rest of her bare form, most of which the other girl had already seen thanks to the sweater, but the finely trimmed gold bush between her legs was a new addition. As well as all the blush.

She did her best to ignore just how much her dramatic whirl had made her breasts bounce, instead focusing on the incompetent freshie. Through the frazzled blonde locks that obsecured her face, completely covering an eye she did her best to give Cicely an icy death stare. She stomped over to her bed with a scowl, and far to much attention to each bounce of her breasts as she stepped. With a snarl she snatched the panties up.

"Really?" She huffed as a leg was lifted, clearly exposing sensitive parts nestled in all that thin golden hair for a moment, and the garment was carefully slipped on and pulled up tight enough to cameltoe a little. Usually she wore things loosely but her cheek were bright red and embaressment and indignation clouded her judgement. "You know you coulda handed it to me!"

"I-I'm sorry!"

He held his hands straight down at his sides, still turned away from Elissa to fight back the chills that had made their way up his spine, from the slight glance he had taken at the fully naked body of his new roommate. Oh, this was wrong. So wrong. Aside from dressing as a girl, seeing a woman's naked body (in person) for the first time in his life, and on accident at that, a bulge had been curiously poking at his skirt, lifting the material up just enough to make it's self known. He clenched his teeth, biting back the urge to touch it, stroke it, to give it just enough of a tug to expel a bit of the pressure that was heating his chest.

Go. Gogogogo. Please, for the love of god, go!

He gripped the end of his skirt tightly, praying that Elissa would leave. That the tease would strut off to wherever the hell she was going and leave him in peace.

She scrambled about the room at a fervor pitch, not even paying the other girl any mind now. Within very little time she'd slipped herself into a turtleneck sweater, all black and fuzzy, a few sizes to small making it hellishly tight but clean! Hopefully clean. She wasn't sure, but it looked clean, about as clean as the old faded skinky jeans she'd had by the TV. They were ratty, knees and brims worn out, a few holes close to her thigh. Nothing trashy or revealing, just worn and ratty. She'd calmed down throughout the quick process of getting dressed, blush finally fading and the room itself seemed to calm down as the panic eased.

Grabbing a large red binder from under her pillow she rocketed from the room offering only a curt 'Bye' before the door slammed.

This wasn't her day.

She was gone! She was finally gone.

Z slumped to the floor, legs tangled in a mess of exhaustion as his hand quickly dove into the front of his skirt. His fingers had hardly brushed his throbbing member and a piercing wave of pleasure sent a second breeze of chills up his spine. Back arched, and head rested back against Elissa's dresser, he let off a soft moan. His fingers danced from base to tip, sending constant shivers along his arms. The frustration was exhausting, but it had paid off with the most intense pleasure he had felt in ages. He tightened his fingers, tugging and pulling. He hadn't noticed in his moments of pure self-lust, that he had snagged a pair of Elissa's panties- one of the dirty pairs tossed about the room before his arrival- and had been clenching them tightly in his free hand. His waist jerked upward as his body begged for more. Without knowing it, his speed had quickened, and his arm was moving in a frenzy of tugs and strokes. After a moment, he could feel the pressure build inside of him, ready to erupt with the slightest movement. He had slid further onto the floor, his back laid against the carpeted ground, and Elissa's panties into the perfect position. It didn't take long for the pressure to build and build, and with one last tug, Z bucked his waist up high and let out a loud groan, his thick white paste soaking the innocent panties.

With an exasperated sigh, and a contently pinkened face, he dropped his arms to the side, crumpled wet panties in hand, and stared at the ceiling.

Just exactly what was he in for?

"Ahlala~" Her graciously long hair bounced lock after lock as she skipped in sparkling flats down the long regal halls.

"Lisette! You were warned about that atrocious hair color!" A slender looking woman with books to her hip called from the far end of the hall.

"Beauty has no bounds, Miss. Westerfeld~" The girl cooed back, her strawberry-colored hair dancing in tussled strands behind her, the base of the long flowing locks tied into a firm ponytail with nothing but a baby-blue ribbon.

Her name was Lisette Zariah Capello. She was more or less famed around the school for her athletic abilities, her debonair personality, and her always glamorous appearance. She'd break rules often, upsetting teachers, but never once receiving any sort of punishment for her misbehavior.

At the elegant college for the upper class, all students were required to wear the traditional school uniform. A white, button up shirt, and a plaid skirts that stopped just above their knees. Lisette, however, would throw in a bit of her own personal taste. Golden bangles on her wrist, her fingers covered from knuckle to knuckle in heart-shaped diamonds, and engraved bands. An array of necklaces, lining her chest, and her button-up slightly open to show just a bit of cleavage. Never once would anyone catch the girl with her shirt actually tucked into her skirt, the way the deans had always requested.

She was dramatic, irrational, jealous at times. Everything you'd expect from the princessly type. Her appearance was never the same with a passing day, and she'd been referred to as a magnet for men, and even suspected in certain affairs with her college professors - before they stopped allowing males to teach in the school.

She had a curvy build- the kind that most women would kill for. Her breasts were mid C-D cups, and held up well on their own without the over-rated support from a bra. It was a factor she enjoyed exhibiting. In fact, rarely would she wear bras- perhaps once or twice a week. And if by chance she did have the undergarment restricting her, it's lacy ruffles would have to SOMEHOW make an appearance with the rest of her outfit. There was no rules requiring bras to be worn, anyway. Not that a rule would have stopped her.

Her sides dipped into womanly curves, her frail shoulders peaking from her sleeve as it slid down her arm. Her nipples poked gingerly from inside of her white shirt, the friction as she pranced through the hall only making them slightly more erect. Her skirt was lifted just a bit in the back from the curves of her behind, and a pair of lacy black panties peaked out from just below the bouncing fabric.

"Good evening~" She tilted her head with a gracious smile and raised her hair in a dainty wave at a group of girls that she had passed by. They stared with cold expressions at her as she passed, only one even letting off a slightly friendly smirk. They were Freshmans, of course. Anyone who had been attending the school a year before, would have waved and whistled at the third-floor princess. It didn't bother her much. They'd come to love her as the rest of them had.

She had stopped her joyous humming when she caught a glimpse of the golden locks that flowed behind Elissa as she stepped out of her dorm and into the chatter-filled hall. "Well look who it is~" A cherry-red smirk hooked the corner of Lisette's glossy red lips.

She had made her way up to the girl, quiet as can be, and easily reached under her sides, her wring-covered fingers coming up to grope her soft, round breasts. "Well these have grown quite a bit, haven't they~" Her voice rang in a seductive tone as the impact had pulled Elissa back towards her. Lisette leaned over her shoulder, giving her breasts a gentle squeeze as she whispered into her ear. "Hello Elissa~"

She'd been hustling. Weaving her way in and out of the giggling crowds of girls, all of them content to stand in the middle of a narrow hall. So much gossip, so many jokes, even a few 'couples' having at eachother in milder ways. She ignored it quite well though, even the few times a couple people had tried to stop her. Including a teacher considering how she was dressed, but she was just to tired. She kept her head fixated on her feet as she walked and more than once she'd closed her eyes for a moment and opened them several yards later.

She had hope, again. A mistake she knew, but still. She could see the door to the room her group would be using today, maybe the hadn't even started yet she thought. And then it happened. She heard it. She couldn't even whirl around to defend herself before she was attacked. As soon as those over-ringed fingers found their way to her sides Elissa's blood ran absolutely cold, her tired heart picking up to a frantic horse's pace as they ran further up her body until..

A soft squeak escaped her, thick scarlet setting on her cheeks as she was pulled back against the other girl's breasts, firm nipples poking at her rigid back. She didn't have to question who this was and already she jammed her eyes shut in the only defiance she had considering how helpless she was in the girl's embrace. The contact made her stomach tie itself up in knots like usual, and the warm breath misting her ear sent a shiver down her spine. She was helpless, completely helpless in Lisette's arms. Always was, and she hated the girl for it! She wasn't a lesbian, this was well known but Lisette just didn't care. Always pawing and groping and touching and..The blush on her face only deepened as she weakly struggled.

"L-Lisette!" She wanted to sound defiant and authorial but instead it was just a weak whine. She was to tired to resist at all, now limp against the other girl. "Can't you go a single day without touching some part of me?"

"You're such a darling, Elissa.. You can't possibly expect me to keep my hands off.."

She had squeezed just a bit harder, her own chest heating with the yearning to throw the girl against a wall and rip off her clothes, right there in the hall. Simultaneously with the groping, she ran the tip of her tongue lightly up the soft flesh of Elissa's ear, sinking her teeth gently into her pale skin.

"Lisette, that's enough." A deep voice stroked her attention from Elissa. Her brows narrowed, disturbed by the asshole who had decided to interrupt. She let a frustrated breath escape her nose, and slid her hands down from Elissa's breasts, gripping her waist instead.

Turning into the direction of the voice, she was no less irate by the face of the dean, standing hands-in-pocket just a few feet away. He was possibly the only male staff member in the college, apart from a custodian or two. The disgusting man.. how Elissa despised him. She had never been one to detest others, but this man... she would dance on his grave.

"John- oh.. excuse me." She forced a smirk, that twitched with irritation. ".. Mr. G." Her grip had tightened on Elissa's waist, holding the girl firmly against her. Her chin rested on her head as she glanced malevolently at the man. "I was just about to escort Elissa to the welcoming dinner~ Good day to you."

In the blink of an eye, she had let go of Elissa, snatching her hand in her own, and dragging her with a firm grip, right behind her.

She melted quite visibly as Lisette's tongue had touched on her, she didn't even hear whatever the girl said to her, just the ring of her ears as the temperature shot up. All the stress, the tired, the pain in her back. It just melted off, sliding into a puddle at her feet. She didn't know why. She was straight, more or less. Sure she'd never had a boyfriend, but she'd never been attracted to a girl! Not even the pretty drawn ones in the hentai she'd experimented with last year. But Lisette's touch sent a shock wave of heat through her body and all at once her knees began to buckle and turn to jelly. The added bite only made it worse, a soft and husky groan echoed in her throat and she could feel her blush rising to a pitch. She'd probably glow in the dark right now she was so red.

She'd absolutely wanted to die just before the gruff voice pulled the other girl off her. That momentary sigh of relief wasn't enough to help her gather her wits, but still. The look she gave the Dean was heart wrenching. Her pule eyes seemed to shake like the rest of her and she silently pleaded with the man to save her. Her entire face was stricken with a sense of "Save me!" She knew she herself could never make Lisette, especially the way the girl effected her.

Keeping with the theme of the day though, he didn't. She hoped he couldn't sleep for a week as she showed him the resigned heartbreak she felt as she just let Lisette carry her off with such a pathetic excuse.

By now the tired set back in, though her legs were still jelly and she found it hard to keep up with the woman dragging her. She wanted to fight, resist. It was an important session with her D&D group today..She'd missed the last three in a row due to bullshit! And if she didn't make it today they promised to kick her out. She'd have to spend weeks finding another group and then all the time with the originzing and trying to meet..Maybe she should just drop the hobby all together. Petty as the loss of a hobby was it overwhelmed her to an extent. She wrote it, and her reaction to Lisette off as just being tired.

She could never fight this girl, especially not in this state. Why even try. She sighed as she slowed down, letting her weight go a little dead as she murmured.

"You're hurting me, Lisette...Your grip.."

Lisette had just made it down a flight of stairs when the soft plea pulled her from her fleeing. My grip?

She had stopped dead in her tracks, facing a wall to hide the emotions that had taken over her eyes in the form of glossy tears.

"S.. sorry." Immediately, she let go of Elissa's hand. All determination had drained from her, and not for a moment could she let anyone see. She wasn't supposed to hurt, or cry.. she was supposed to laugh, to wave, to dance, to gleam in the sun light. She was supposed to shrug off the jealousy of the girls around her, and walk tall. Chin to the clouds, right?

"Well, darling~" She stretched her arms out high, crossing them behind her head in a sporty pose. Kicking one foot behind the other, she spun around to face Elissa. Her complexion was so dollish, so innocent.. so fragile. She couldn't help but take in the scarlet blush on the young girl's face. She smirked and leaned in closely, pressing her lips to the soft skin of her cheek.

"See ya around, love." She made sure to keep close, her smile just inches away from Elissa's precious expression.

She slipped by and made her way down the hall, strutting the way she always had. The truth was, she wasn't all that busy... she didn't have anywhere to be, no one that she necessarily needed to talk to..

Oh well.. she would go to the welcoming dinner, eat, talk, laugh, drink~ She had a throne to fill anyways. Secrets to keep, standards to uphold.

"By the way!" She called back towards Elissa, assuring the volume in her voice to add to the embarrassment. "They turned out nicely!" She giggled, grabbing her own breasts as a gesture, before turning and continuing her heel-to-toe frolicking down the crowded halls.

Lisette actually stopping had been surprising, and she instantly began rubbing her wrist with a thankful sigh once it was free. But something wasn't right, at all. She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow as she watched the girl who seemed to be purposely facing a wall. The attention queen, purposely facing a wall..Something was up but she couldn't place it, and didn't really know the girl enough to guess. It didn't surprise Elissa at all when the other turned around and pretended to be fine. But that kiss...

That did surprise her.

Like a flash fever she felt a fire leap up from her feet, tauntingly licking at every vein and engulfing them in the inferno that was, more or less, her body. It was uncharacteristic of Lisette. It was..A soft thing. Gentle. Almost as if the girl had real intentions and not just lust. Not to mention Elissa wasn't accustomed to it. She paid no attention at all as Lisette bounded off, her hand reaching up and fingers gently brushing over the gloss-stain on her cheek.

Of course the gentle side to Lisette was shattered with obscene gestures and sexual taunting, causing Elissa's hand to rocket down to her side and her face to twist up in a glare. One that faded as soon as her tormentor was out of sight.

Leaning up against a wall she debated her options. Pleeing for a spot in her group, attending the welcoming party, slinking back to her room, or...

She quit caring as her back slid down the wall, leaving her slumped on the ground with her head on her pulled up knees. She wanted to cry, and couldn't quite place well. Maybe it was nothing, or everything, or just how tired she was. Everything was reaching up and sinking razor claws deep into her flesh, trying to drag her down into the unstable abyss of sobbing that rested below the surface. Biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood she forced her body to be still, choking down the sobs that reared their heads as certain thoughts hit her harder than others. She wanted to move but her body refused, her limbs so sluggish and unresponsive as she attempted to force herself up.

Of course, she found renewed energy when she heard a giggling bunch of girls start to descend the stairs. They'd pretend to care, ask what was wrong. Not what she needed. Looked like plan T time.

Bolting down the stairs, all her desire to collapse and cry being turned into the fuel to escape, to avoid questions, she whirled on her heels and shot down a hall. This floor was mostly classes, and at the end of the hall a maintenance closet. The janitors almost never used it though. First year she was here she'd never seen anyone in it. To top it off it was installed by one of the old janitors, the retarded boy. The hired him because his parents worked there and he installed the doorknob BACKWARDS. No one ever had the heart to change it because he was proud of it. That's why it was never locked.

Once she scrambled in relativity unseen she pushed a bunch of mops aside and fought with a shelf full of paint cans for space before twisting about and locking the damned door. As if on cue the frustrated sobs broke out. She could feel the hot sting of tears rolling down her cheeks and the muscles in her chest spasmed in painful hiccups. She didn't mind to much, though. She had no idea how she was still awake and could feel consciousness slipping.

It'd be a nice enough spot for a nap, at least until the dinner was over.

It fit her.

She had dropped by the third-floor cafeteria to gather a small bucket of ice and return it to the commons where the welcoming dinner was held. She had already held a dozen conversations, asking about her peer's summers, and what classes they were taking this year. It seemed like a good idea to get away from all the chatter and pandemonium, so she went to the farthest kitchen location she could find. As usual, she had kicked off her flashy heels in order to carry the bucket more efficiently. She held it atop her head as she passed by all of the newly-decorated dorm rooms.

Some had lights that lit up a sign saying, "welcome". Some had names, "___ and ___" in giant letters, to assure guests that they had the correct room. Lisette couldn't help but scan for just the right one. Of course nothing about the door would be decorated, no signs, no glitter, no flashy lights. Just the simple room number, and name. She was tempted to stop for a moment, to knock and see if maybe Elissa was there.. but the bucket of ice was weighing down, and her arms felt tired from holding it up.

Before she could even decide to continue to the commons, however, the door her attention was on had opened and a tall, slender woman stepped out. She had her hair tied back, and rubber gloves housed the woman's fingers. Lisette couldn't help but stare. What was this woman doing in Elissa's room? The girl had never shared her room before- probably because all of her old cluster-mates had requested a new one.

She didn't say anything, but simply stared at the bony woman. Something was odd about her, even in the way she gripped the bucket of cleaning supplies at her waist. Lisette dragged a shoe-less foot across the ground, slowing to stare for just a moment before she raised a suspicious brow and continuing down the hall.

---

Z had been working his ass off since the moment Elissa had left. He'd be damned if he had to live in a pigsty. This horrid school could take his gender, could take his dignity, but damnit it all! It will not take his cleanliness.

He had successfully manages all of the stray panties and bras into a large wicker basket. He would lug the thing to the laundry room, do a few loads, and then return every lacy object back to Elissa's dressers before she even returned. It was unbelievable how something so cute could cause such a disaster. He had scrubbed sticky Red Bull stains from every inch of the walls, thrown a hundred-or-so cans into a large garbage bag, along with a colorful array of food wrappers, and boxes. He had even managed to un-earth some pretty cool things in the process. But it was time to return the cleaning supplies to the janitor's closet. Tired slightly disturbed by the mass quantities of undergarments that Elissa owned, Z shoved all of the bottles and sponges back into their bucket and slipped out of the room.

He had only been bothered for a moment, but the pink-haired beauty that eyed him so efficiently. There was no need to worry, however. He had checked his appearance just a few moments ago, and everything was in place nicely.

The journey to the closet at the end of the third-floor hallway felt especially long. Z was exhausted, and the bucket of supplies had to have weight a nice 18 pounds, at least. He had never been all that muscular.. something that benefited him for the time being.

Sighing, he pried the closet door open and dumped the bucket of supplies inside, unaware that Elissa was just a two floors below. Reminding himself that he would have to give back the key that the janitors had lent him, he pulled the hair tie from his silky black hair and let it fall to the sides of his face. He looked far more boyish with his hair down, but the constant tugging had left him with a pounding headache. He'd make due with his appearance for the time being. No one was around to see him anyways. Yawning, he trudged back to the dorm room and took a seat on Elissa's bed.

"There's only one goddamn bed in this room." He sighed, falling back onto the messy sheets and staring at the ceiling. "Guess I'll be sleeping on the floor."

He'd have loved to, in all honesty. To just pass out on the ground, and wake up the next day completely oblivious to the time at which he had fallen asleep. But he had a few more things to do before he was content with the condition of the room.

He'd need lysol.. lots of it.

He had journed up and down the stairs, to all end of the college, looking for the laundry area, where he could successfully throw away the garbage-bags full of trash, and wash all of Elissa's panties and bras. He had successfully found it on the first-floor, which was surprisingly vacant, considering the large dinner party that had taken place a floor above. It took him a moment to figure out how the washer worked. Everything in the building was far more advanced than the counterparts that any middle-class family would own. After tossing everything in the fancy white machine, he stepped over to the mirror, just above the sink that he could only assume was used to wash the non-machine washable clothing. Sighing, he turned on the fosset, and ran his hands into the luke-warm water.

I wouldn't look so girly without makeup, right? He cupped his hands together, collecting a bit of warm water, and splashing it on his face. His heavy makeup came off easily, and though he looked a bit less feminine without the eye-line and mascara, his make-shift boobs did a good job of filling in the gap. Especially with the baggy shirt that he had changed in to for cleaning purposes. Besides, if anyone accused him of being a man, he could always act offended and slap them in the face. He just had one more thing.. one more thing to do, and he could rest for an hour or so.

He gripped the fistfull of keys lent to him by the janitors, and made his way to the nearest closet. Slipping the key into the door knob, he twisted it a few times before he heard a click, assuring him that he had successfully unlocked the door.

Opening the wooden frame slowly, he was rather surprised to see the fragile build of a girl, huddled to herself. Hiding away in the dark, almost as though she was afraid. Her blonde hair only partially covered her tear-stained eyes. Her worn jeans and messy hair giving off her identity, without even a glimpse at her face.

"Elissa?"

For a long time she'd just huddled in the small space she'd cleared out. The light had been off and she pulled the certain down on the little window the door had. She wanted it to be dark, any form of light was stinging at her strained eyes far to much. Besides, it reduced the chance of anyone paying attention to the closet. She'd pulled her knees up and her arms wrapped around them, to make herself small, and because it felt like if she didn't psychically hold herself together she'd just..Fall apart. Eventually her head fell on her knees and rested on them as if they were a pillow. She'd started rocking at some point and just kept at it for awhile, even as her legs ached. It made the sobbing more bearable. She still didn't know why she'd been crying, but she was well aware she didn't want anyone else to wonder either. Her lip now bled in four places from biting on it to silence herself.

She hadn't heard someone approach due to how out of it she was. Almost asleep and just barely over the last wave of sobs. When the door did swing open she lifted her head quickly, but weakly. She stared up, eyes red and puffy, streams of dried tears cutting a path down her reddened cheeks and tainted with what little mascara she wore. The blood from her lips ran down her chin and neck, disappearing under the turtleneck of her sweeter. She was a wreck. You could see it in her eyes even as she squinted in pain from the light.

"Elissa?"

As far off as she was the voice was familiar. She couldn't make out who it was, just a frail form in the light but figured it was Cicely. What a way to start.. she thought, though surprisingly slowly. Her mind was so sluggish, so stalled. It was worse than playing an MMO while downloading porn. Her head lulled back down, crashing against her knees. She didn't want the girl to see her face, or any of her for that matter. Crying in a closet? How pathetic..The things Cicley must be thinking, she didn't even want to guess.

She pulled her legs in tighter, scooting back as she did, as if trying to be smaller and wheezed in surprise as a lightning bolt of pain shot through her. She had, the entire time, had her back against an open toolbox, one that had fallen and popped open when she carelessly pushed thing from a shelf, with a box cutter of all things in it. On carelessly left with the blade out. She'd been pressing against it but, the thickness of her sweater keeping her from realizing it. Her last attempt at pulling back changed that however.

She struggled to move, inching away from it as a dead arm tried to reach around. The last thing she'd remember before blacking out was faintly swearing.