The A.V. Club - Ch. 18

A Novel by J.K. Ermon (jokermon)

Chapter Eighteen: High School Confidential

This is a work of erotic fantasy fiction for the entertainment of adults only. Everything in this story is imaginary and is not meant to represent any real-life people, events, or medical conditions. It contains explicit futanari (hermaphrodite) content. If that's not your thing, or if reading this type of material is unlawful where you reside, don't read it. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older, even if it seems otherwise for dramatic or narrative purposes. Please enjoy this story responsibly and do not repost without permission. This story is copyright©2016 J.K. Ermon.

~~~

After Lucille left, we spent the last two hours of that Sunday meeting talking. We all remained clothed. For that brief time, we were like any small gathering of high school friends anywhere, chatting and joking around. It was oddly poignant.

Emily turned to Mark.

"I'm sorry...but with everything else, I forgot to ask...how did things go with Marjorie last week?"

"Ah." He grimaced. "I went to her house Thursday night to say goodbye, and they'd already moved out. They left the door open. Hardly even any furniture left. It was like a ghost town."

"I'm sorry," Emily said.

"She didn't leave you any forwarding info?" I asked.

Mark shook his head glumly. "I don't think she even knew where they were going. The whole thing's real mysterious."

The rest of us made commiserating noises.

~~~

In the car on the way home, Emily turned to me and said, "Marianne went on her first date Saturday night."

"That was quick," I said. "How did it go?"

"Like clockwork. Jeremy Bolingbrook took her out to the Admiral and then a malt shop. She was home by nine thirty."

"Jeremy Bolingbrook. Good choice." He was a nerdy twerp just like us. Unlike us, he was an insensitive blabbermouth. Girls tended not to date him because he couldn't be trusted to keep their date business private. If Marianne had sucked his cock half as well as I knew she was capable, half the school probably knew about it by now.

Emily smiled. "According to Marianne, he was really impressed with her. Even a little freaked out. She made him come twice."

"Not surprising."

I revised my estimate. Half of Clermont County probably knew by now.

~~~

Monday morning, the forgettable wits were talking out front of Grant High again.

"D'ja hear? Jerry Bolingbrook took out Marianne Fleischmann Saturday and she sucked his cock inside out."

Jesus. That didn't take long.

I stopped, put my back to them and bent to tie a phantom shoelace. Thankfully, they didn't notice and kept talking.

"Get lost," another one of them said. "She never dates anyone."

"Naw, she dated one of those AV Club geeks, I think."

"What, Gasper?"

"Naw, the other one. The mouthy Jew bastard."

"I never heard about that."

"Well, she didn't brag about it, obviously."

"So how do you know?"

"My sister's friends with one of her friends' friends."

"Is your sister a good lay or what?"

"Fuck off."

"Hang on," another one said impatiently. "What else did you hear about Jerry and Marianne?"

"Just that she turned his whole world upside-down. She got him off four times."

"Bull-shit."

"Bull-truth. That's what I heard, anyways."

"Wow. I gotta get me some of that."

Emily's wheels were in motion. The High School grapevine was humming. I overheard another conversation on the way to the AV Club workroom.

"I heard Marianne Fleischmann's become a real vacuum cleaner. She sucked off Jeremy Bolingbrook five times Saturday night."

"Ya don't say."

Hoo boy.

Mark and Frank were already in the workroom when I arrived. Two seconds later, Donnie and Jack entered.

"Hey Mark," said Donnie, "what's all this I'm hearing about Marianne?"

Mark looked up. "What did you hear?"

I made a slashing gesture across my throat. Donnie missed it.

"Apparently she dated Jeremy Bolingbrook Saturday night and sucked him off half-a-dozen times."

"She what?"

"I heard it was seven times," remarked Jack.

Mark leapt to his feet. For a second, I thought he might attack them both.

Jack flinched. "That's what I heard," he said. He looked a little abashed. "It's all over the school."

Mark stood stock-still for a few heartbeats, then stormed out of there. I threw an exasperated look at Donnie and Jack and then followed him.

I knew where he was going. Marianne's locker was on the third floor next to the English office. He vaulted up the stairs with long strides and moments later was confronting her where she stood by her open locker. She looked at him with wide, surprised eyes.

He opened his mouth to bellow something, but then promptly shut it.

Marianne was wearing her form-fitting sapphire-blue dress again today. She had tamed it down somewhat by wearing a dark, long-sleeved bolero jacket over it, but if anything, it emphasized her much-improved bustline and tight waist below. She wasn't wearing a lot of makeup, but she didn't need to in order to look stunning. Which she did.

"Marianne?" he asked hesitantly, like he barely recognized her.

"Mark?" she asked.

"What...what's all this I'm hearing about you and Jeremy Bolingbrook?" he asked, but without a lot of his former righteous impetus.

"Oh my God," she rolled her pretty eyes. "That asshole. I'm sorry if it upset you, Mark. Believe me, it was not my idea."

Mark paused again. An actual apology from Marianne Fleischmann compounded the impossibilities of this morning. He looked around and kept his voice down.

"Blowing him ten times wasn't your idea?"

"It was only twice. And anyway," she returned a little pointedly, "how many times did Marjorie Stahlberg blow you?"

Mark opened his mouth and then shut it again. He was speechless. It was remarkable.

Finally, he found his voice. "I thought...you didn't like...dating boys."

"Not true," she said. "I like dating boys very much. There were just some...things...that prevented me from following through."

She reached out and touched his arm. She ran her hand down to his and clasped it.

"These last two weeks...I've worked those things out. Along with...many other things."

Mark's eyes couldn't stop drifting down to her chest. Marianne looked pleased. She glanced around and seemed to come to a decision.

"Mark," she said. "We need to talk. Privately. Can you come with me?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She pulled him over to the third-floor custodial storage room. He went along with horny docility. They went inside and I heard the lock click behind them.

They just checked into the Grant Hilton, I thought, bemused. I checked my watch. Twenty minutes to homeroom.

Plenty of time. I hope.

~~~

I stood guard. I also tried to eavesdrop, but whatever Marianne did in there, she did quietly. Thankfully, none of the janitors showed. Fifteen minutes later, the door unlocked from the inside and the two of them emerged. Marianne had a compact in hand and was fixing her lipstick, while Mark looked a great deal more relaxed (as well as slightly flushed and disheveled).

She looked at me.

"Tell Emily Mark's coming with me to the portable today. This is not optional."

She looked at Mark.

"I owe you a big explanation, but right now, I've gotta get to homeroom. I'll see you at lunch."

She looked around. All the kids were rushing to get to class. Nobody was paying attention to us. She pulled his head down and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll see you then," she said in a voice rich with dick-stiffening promise. "And believe me, there's plenty more where that came from."

"See you at lunch," Mark said goofily.

As he and I hustled back to homeroom on the first floor, I passed him a handkerchief. He mopped the big red lip-print off his face.

Mark didn't say anything. He just took his seat in Miss Preston's class like nothing was out of the ordinary.

So far, so good, I thought.

~~~

"You've been what?" Mark yelped.

"I've been training her," Emily said again, with remarkable calmness.

All four of us were in the portable. Marianne and I were seated on the big costume trunk while Emily and Mark stood and talked. Or rather, Emily talked while Mark did a lot of yelling and gesticulating.

She'd finally let the cat out of the bag. I'd been wondering how this part of her plan was supposed to unfold. It seemed like her plan was to just tell the truth and ride out the storm.

"Training her for what?"

"To be your girlfriend."

"To be my..." Mark's mouth stayed open but no sounds came out.

"It happened at the Denny's," Marianne said quietly. "That night I came storming in and interrupted your dinner." She frowned. "I owe you an apology for that, too."

"Never mind that. What happened?"

"I came back to the Denny's. After I got rid of my friends. I wanted to...confront Emily. I thought she was the reason you'd dropped me."

"I didn't drop you," he said in a long-suffering voice. "You dropped me."

"And you denied me the opportunity to take you back."

"I think we're getting off track here," said Emily. "Marianne?"

"Okay." She took a breath. "I think...I was going to hit her...or even stab her, with something."

"Really?" asked Emily. For the first time she looked startled. "Stab me?"

Marianne shook her head. "I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't know what I was I going to do. Anyway, I dragged her out of the ladies' room and began yelling and carrying on in the back parking lot."

"I was able to make myself come," Emily explained. "I got her in the mouth. She was...a lot more manageable, then."

"It was," stated Marianne, "the most remarkable fucking thing I'd ever experienced. All that anger and anxiety, just...poof!" She mimed an explosion. "It was...mystifying. And wonderful."

"And what happened then?" asked Mark.

"I had sex with her," said Emily. "It seemed like the correct thing to do."

"You had sex...with my girlfriend?"

"Mark," said Marianne firmly. "You had just made it very clear that you were going steady with Marjorie. I was...devastated. Emily offered me a way to get you back."

"We knew Marjorie wouldn't be in the picture forever," Emily said. "But even once she was gone, there was no way you'd take Marianne back. You weren't about to put up with any more blue-balling, not after you'd been dated properly."

Mark nodded. "That's...true enough."

"I had a baby, Mark," said Marianne.

"What?"

Oh, Lordy, I thought. It's all coming out now.

"I got knocked up at summer camp. This was before we started dating. When I missed a year at school, it wasn't mono. I went off to have the baby in another state and gave it up for adoption."

Mark's mouth hung open. He gaped at her, then at Emily. She nodded. His head swung back to Marianne.

She drew a deep breath. "That's why I could never let myself...really be with you. I couldn't risk going through that again. Every time I started weakening...I would push you away."

She bit her lip. "I am so very, very sorry."

Mark sat down on the floor. His knees just gave out and he sank down cross-legged.

"That's why..." he started, but couldn't finish. He stared at his shoes.

"Yes." Marianne said softly, and nodded. "That's why."

He looked up. "And Emily?" he asked her.

"Emily helped me get control of my life and my body. I've never felt more powerful and in control."

Mark looked at her. "You can control whether or not you conceive? You got there?"

"Oh yes. And have amazing sex, every time. She and Bobby helped me out immeasurably."

"Hang on," said Mark sharply. He looked at me. "Emily and Bobby?"

"Yes," said Emily. "I made him help me. And, before you get mad at him, I made him keep it a secret."

For a second, I wanted to protest. I didn't like my girlfriend protecting me like that. I also didn't like the way it sounded like I was obeying her like a pussywhipped puppet. The problem was, it wasn't entirely untrue. I wasn't whipped in the slightest (at least I didn't think so), but this whole project had been Emily's idea from the start. I had pretty much tagged along for the ride.

"He never fucked me, Mark," said Marianne. "At least...not until after I could be sure I wouldn't get pregnant."

Mark looked daggers at her, and then me. "But he did fuck you?"

"Mark," said Marianne with surprising gentleness, "do I need to bring up Marjorie Stahlberg again? Did you fuck her?"

He winced and ran a hand through his hair. "Once," he muttered, looking down. He drew a deep breath.

"Okay. Describe this...training."

We went through it all with him. Emily and Marianne did most of the talking. We didn't spare him any of the details. When he asked for clarification, we gave it to him. He did a lot more wincing and jaw-dropping as each tidbit came to light.

When we got to the end, Mark just sat there.

"Shit," he said at last. "Shit, shit, and shit again."

Thankfully, he sounded more thoughtful than outraged. I was impressed at how well he was taking this.

Marianne got up off the trunk and knelt down next to him. She put her arms around him and gave him a hug. He started, then hugged her back. I wondered if that was the first time she'd ever hugged him.

It was a long, silent hug. "What are you thinking?" she asked eventually.

"I'm thinking," he said quietly, "that one of my best friends, and his girlfriend, got in your pants before I did. It should have been me. I should have been first."

"I agree," said Marianne. "It should have been you. But without Emily, it never would have been you...or anyone else. I was never gonna have sex again, Mark. Not until these two lunatics put me through their sexual boot camp."

"That's a little harsh," said Emily.

Marianne shook her head irritably. "Zip it, bigdick."

She looked back at Mark and cupped his face with both hands. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and loving.

"I want you to know, that I am here for you, now. How we got here was messy and...possibly regrettable. But right now, I am here for you. And starting right now, I want to do this right."

Mark took hold of her hands and gently removed them. He looked at me and Emily.

"Can Marianne and I have a little privacy?"

"Sure," we both said at the same time.

We stepped outside and heard the door lock behind us.

Emily turned to me. "Well," she said brightly. "That worked out better than I anticipated."

"Are you kidding? That was a disaster."

"It was a controlled disaster," she corrected. "A contained disaster. Those two are gonna be fine."

"You're sure?"

"Trust me. Now," she looked up at Grant High. "I have never been to the cafeteria here. Is it any good?"

I shrugged. "It's a cafeteria. It's okay, I suppose."

"Okay," she said and smiled at me. "Take me to lunch?"

I looked at her. "Are you even allowed in the main school building?"

"I'm not...unallowed."

I hesitated, but then took her hand and told my tyrannical better judgement to go blow. The principal and Mrs. Nessman were the only faculty who knew about her. Gladys practically lived in the teacher's lounge and Mr. Stankovic (Principal Stank to the student body at large) never left his office if he could help it. The risk of either of them spotting us was negligible.

"Okay," I said. We walked in through the side door and I embraced the great not-giving-a-fuck-ness of it all.

~~~

Walking hand-in-hand with Emily through the school halls was a revelatory experience. People notice you when you're part of a couple. I got the impression that this was the first time many of my schoolmates even realized I existed.

She was wearing an open pink shrug today, over a knee-length yellow gingham dress that molded itself to her figure up top and flounced out at the hip. No glasses. She wasn't hiding her face or her body. She turned a lot of heads.

Grant High's cafeteria was its usual thunderous cacophony. It was like walking into an explosion. We picked up our sectional plastic trays and got in line.

High school lunches in late-sixties Ohio were forty cents. That got you an entrée, an appetizer, a vegetable side dish, a slice of toasted raisin bread, a small carton of milk, and a dessert. That day it was Salisbury steak, beef noodle casserole, boiled carrots and apple pie.

We picked up our lunches and headed over to the losers' table. My friends all looked up as we approached, and as one, their jaws dropped.

As Emily took a seat, Jack asked in a hushed voice, "Should you be here?" He had to lean halfway across the table to be heard over the uproar all around.

"It's fine," she replied. "Any news on the Stephanie front?"

Jack glanced over at the Cheerleaders' table where Stephanie was holding court as usual. It was five or six rows over. It seemed like an entirely different world.

"I haven't tried talking to her. She hasn't approached me, either. We have one more tutorial session at her place, tomorrow night. I guess we'll talk then."

Jack gazed wistfully at her as he spoke. Stephanie noticed, looked back and their eyes met. She blushed, swallowed, and cast her eyes down. She quickly resumed the conversation with her team.

"You certainly made an impression on her," said Emily.

It was Jack's turn to blush and look down.

"And may I say," she murmured, "you boys weren't kidding. The resemblance to our Lucille is uncanny." She peered harder. "The physical resemblance, anyway."

"Speaking of physical appearances," said Donnie. "Have any of you seen Marianne Fleischmann recently?"

"I have," said Frank gravely. "She has become one fine-looking young lady."

"What's this now?" asked Jack.

"It looks," said Donnie, "like puberty finally decided to cut her a little slack. Her skin cleared up and she got, like, four inches taller. Best of all, her boobs got huge."

"She and Mark just got back together," said Emily.

"What?" they all said in unison.

"That may be a little premature," I said. "They've reopened talks. And I know Mark's not gonna budge unless he gets his way."

"You mean," Frank said, "Unless Marianne actually acts like a real girlfriend this time?"

"Yes," Emily said with twinkle in her eye. "But a little bird told me Marianne will be more than willing to meet all of Mark's needs, moving forward."

Even Frank caught the subtext there.

"Did you have a hand in this, Emily?"

"I did," she said, sipping from her carton of milk. "But I think that's all I should say in public. I'll tell you about it later."

I realized we were attracting stares. This was the first time in living memory that a girl had sat at our table. And not just that - Emily was an undeniably attractive girl. She was leaning into me, making our couple status clear to all.

"So, Halverson," came an entirely unwelcome voice. "This is the girlfriend, huh?"

Cliff Anders was walking up in front of our table.

Oh shit.

He leered at Emily. "Gotta say, not what I was expecting. Figured a zero like the Scarecrow would score a real brown-bagger."

I bristled. I could feel all my friends bristling. I felt a dangerous rush of adrenaline.

Emily's hand closed gently on my wrist. For some reason, I cooled down right away.

"You must be Cliff," she said. "I've heard about you."

"Heard about you too, kitty-kat. I heard you like to scratch."

"And I heard," Emily said coolly, "you like to strip boys naked and steal their clothes. And sometimes beat the naked boys, too."