Daniela Ramirez Part 2

Daniela Ramirez Part 1

Bella French In Red Latex

Big Tit Blonde Bimbo

Jaqueline Maree Summers

Tight Dress

Sheyla Hershey

Daydreaming?

CAREERS IN SCIENCE PART 4 OF 4 by Limerick

“Wake up, kitten!” Courtney sang.

Emily woke up. She opened her eyes, touched cautiously at the insides of her head. There was the cotton gauze, almost familiar, by now. That sense of vagueness and silliness. The throbbing mess of her new libido, ready to get touched off by anything. She had woken up into the body of a sex toy, a big factory for coaxing cum from boys. And sex toys didn’t need to think too hard. She could probably do some math if she had to, but that was boring.

“Emillllyyyyy!” Courtney said. “Wake up! It’s sunny out!”

It was sunny out?

It was never sunny out. Their entire stay at Camp Science Preparation had been grey skies.

She had fallen asleep on her stomach, naked. Emily turned over. Her boobs weren’t much bigger, at least. Yes, they looked like she was a naturally big girl who had sprung for the tit job, but at least the expansion had slowed. Her nipples should’ve been raw and sore, but weren’t.

“Emily, help, I don’t think I can read anymore,” Courtney said, giggling helplessly.

She pushed a note into Emily’s face. She panicked, realized that she couldn’t read it either. Then the Asian girl found her glasses, and slipped them on. The world snapped into focus.

“This says “S-L-n-7-S-S-something weird-N-U-H-L. What does that mean? The boys left it.”

Emily looked at it. She turned it around from how Courtney had held it. “Th-anks Sl-uts,” she read, sounding it out.

Courtney sagged, relieved. “Whew! I’d hate to not read, you know? I mean, there’s dumb, and then there’s dumb.”

Her best friend was the perfect blonde. Crashing waves of spun gold hair, framing a vapid face with vacant eyes. Her body bubbled with sex, and looked perfectly squeezable. She was so smooth and polished Courtney looked like she was followed around by an airbrusher.

“The Pythagorean Theorem is…” Emily tried. Nothing came to her.

“Stop talking snakes,” Courtney said. “Get up, sleepy! It’s a beautiful day out! And today is the campfire!”

Something was different about her roommate. It took Emily a few foggy moments to put it together.

“The gum,” she said. “You’re not chewing the gum.”

Although she had slipped into a well-fitting white sundress, with white socks. She looked like a slutty sixteen year old, off to pick daisies.

“I told you I wasn’t addicted,” Courtney said, proudly. “And it’s all because of you! I learned from you, sweetie.”

“Learned… what?”

“If ever I feel like chewing on gum, I just have to lean over and suck on someone’s cock, instead,” Courtney explained. “I feel fine so long as I have a little cum in me!”

Emily tested her own head. She was surprised to find the all-consuming urge to chew, chew, chew had receded. It was still there, and some gum would still taste really good. But the ocean of addiction had fallen back. “I feel better too,” she noted, swinging her legs out. “I don’t need the gum!”

Courtney nodded, eagerly. “I should hope not, with all the spermies you swallowed, kitten. It’s a good thing you can’t get belly pregnant.”

She had been… swallowing cum? Emily didn’t remember that.

“You’re such a perfect little cocksucker,” Courtney said, twirling in the light off the cabin window, like a dainty, ditzy ballerina. “You’ll have to teach me! Donald said you almost killed him!”

Her mouth did taste… salty…

Courtney looked her roommate over. “Mm, you’ve got such a fun new body,” she pronounced. Emily glanced down. It was hard to see past her overly-built chest. But she felt awkward and slow, placed into a body intended to be on its back. Her hips swayed when she walked, and Emily felt her soft rear end bouncing up and down.

Her roommate licked her lips. “You know, girl-cum is kind of tasty too,” she said, advancing steadily. She pushed Emily lightly, on the tips of her nipples, and the overstacked girl fell backwards onto her computer chair. This new body was helpless. Its only defensive mechanism was to spread legs and warm up.

Courtney’s pink-painted fingernails dipped into the honeypot of her snatch, came back dripping wet. “Mmm, I can still taste Donald, too. I thought his cock was glued to your pussy, after awhile.”

Then she shook her head, regretful. “But we’ve got to get going, kitten. Today is a big day!”

“A big day for what?” Emily said. Her body had been embarrassingly ready to sit and get finger-fucked by her energetic roommate. She felt so… passive..

“A big day for days!”

* * *

Emily had no clothes that came close to fitting. So she struggled once more into the stretched, ridiculous pair of Camp Shorts and Camp T-Shirt that she had worn for three days straight. It was still wet, so it outlined her assets, and the shorts hugged her clit with every step.

They walked together, former Counselors, now bow-legged from a long night of half-remembered fucking. Pieces were starting to come back to Emily, now. Kneeling, two cocks in front of her, both of them jizzing into her wide-open mouth. Courtney licking at her snatch, laughing as she did.

“Some scientist,” Emily thought, doleful. She squinted against the sun. It was brilliant, back in action, and her eyes weren’t used to the glare. The mud hadn’t yet had a chance to dry, and was still sucking at her tennis shoes with every step.

The cafeteria held the entire Camp, sitting at Tribal Tables as usual. Breakfast that morning was Cheerios, with barely cooked eggs, for the brave. The room was poorly ventilated and damp with long rows of benches from the Ford Administration.

The only difference was the barely-clothed girls that floated around the room, with wide smiles, escorted by at least a dozen boys.

Many of them appeared to have been dressed by a particular Tribe.

Tribe Fox had stuffed Megan into a green bikini, with matching green heels. Her slinking stride was matched by the smiling members of the tribe, escorting her to the table with pats on the ass.

Tribe Badger had dressed Alicia, the other asian girl, in schoolgirl regalia. She had white stockings, and a skirt so brief it wasn’t worth bothering. Each step revealed white cotton panties. Vanessa had been made up whorish and garish, with a solid layer of lipstick and big hoop bangles. She wore a cheap cotton dress in electric yellow. Her lashes were caked with so much eyeshadow blinking had to be a serious effort.

The boys admired both Courtney and Emily. But they left them alone, too, as Courtney loaded a tray with Cheerios for the both of them. “I’m really excited about the campfire tonight,” she gushed. “Is Mr. Turtle all set?”

“He’s alive,” Emily reported. That was going to have to be enough. She swiveled, searched for some corner of remaining sanity.

There, sitting in the corner, was reason to hope.

Candice and Tara, against all odds, had not given in. They had dressed themselves in heavy sweaters and long pairs of jeans, as armor, and had their hair sharply pulled back in a ponytail. Emily felt like cheering. Two girls, at least, were holding out against the ultra-femininity of the gum. No doubt they had tracked it down to the source, found the person responsible, had called the police…

Courtney sat her at their own bench, their usual spot. She plunged happily into her cheerios, downing heavy spoonfuls of cereal. Then she followed Emily’s gaze over to the twosome of lonely resistance fighters.

The blonde leaned forwards. “Tara and Candice are gonna look so cute with big tits,” she whispered, and winked.

Emily felt, suddenly, very cold. And then warm again, as two bigger girls sat on either side of her.

She caught flashes of pink and pastel, and two females with perfect profiles and identical boobs.

Chrissie and Andrea had nothing black left in them.

Andrea had dressed—or been dressed—in an all-pink parody of rocker gear. It was all done in plastic, shiny plastic, with a spiked collar made out of cotton and felt, and studded with hearts. Her plastic boots extended up to midthigh, and showed off just enough of her thighs.

Her formerly-dark friend was nearly an infant. Her legs were swaddled with a childish pair of pink shorts, with two cute back pockets, all done up in corduroy. She wore a baby-doll top, in pink with little angels along the hem, and her tits pressed, grotesque, against the front. All that was missing was the pacifier around her neck.

“What are you doing to Tara and Candice?” Emily demanded, even as the two pink girls settled in with their own bowls of cheerios.

To answer, Courtney took a big dramatic sip of milk, and winked.

Emily’s eyes flew over to the holdouts. And, now that she looked closer, Tara had already drained three bowls of cereal, while Candice dug frantically into her second. Even as she watched, Tara gave up on the spoon, and simply picked up the bowl. She poured the milk into her mouth, missing with much of it. It spilled all over the front of her sweater. Candice copied her, slurping it noisily.

Both girls sat back, sagged, and groaned with noisy pleasure. Both were panting and flushed. Then they stood up and dashed back to the kitchen. For more bowls of delicious milk.

Emily tried to stand up, to try and stop them from slutting themselves. A gentle pressure on her neck pushed her back down. Chrissie’s hand. The girl still had nearly four inches of height on her, even in her precious getup.

“Going somewhere?” Andrea murmured. She pulled something out of her purse. The only bit of dark black left between them.

The large, insistent, dildo.

While Emily stared at it, and the still-moist tip, Chrissie gently stood her up and unbuttoned her shorts. She slid them over the helpless girl’s hips, then forced her back down onto the cold metal of the bench. It was cold on her bare ass, and tickled her slit.

That was Andrea’s cue to tease the endless length towards the middle of her thighs.

They started to inch apart.

“We’ve named him Peter,” Andrea said, as the plastic started to nestle into her creamy-smooth thighs. “Get it?”

“Nooooooo,” Emily said, transfixed. She was naked below the waist, utterly exposed, a willing target for anything with a dick. If she was bent over she would take it up the ass. If she was put up on the table she would spread her legs. The last embers of resistance were flickering, dying out.

“It’s because Peter is another word for Penis,” Chrissie explained. Andrea reached the outer folds of her cunt. It was still juicy and oily from last night. Or maybe that was just her default, these days. Wet and willing. The folds parted easily for the plastic cock, and Andrea pushed it oh-so-slowly inside.

“Why are you doing this?” Emily said, leaning back to let the dildo in. It rubbed against her clit. Her mind sparked with the cotton fog of sex-juice. Chrissie rubbed gently at her tits. Were they going to strip her naked in the cafeteria, drive her to orgasm in front of a cheering crowd?

“Because it’s fun,” Andrea said. “And you’re fun to fuck. You’ve got such an adorable body for playing with.”

The pink girl looked down, surprised. “Wow, it’s all in!”

Emily felt full, split nearly in two by the massive length of the sex toy. It didn’t seem possible that the entire thing could fit inside her, but she could feel it, rubbing on every part of her sensitive inner walls. She squirmed, let it roll around, lubricated and hot.

“That’s amazing, Emily,” Courtney said, smiling. She was finishing her cheerios. “I’ll have to tell Donald. He’ll be so excited that his fiancée can take so much in!”

How did it fit inside? It was some sort of math problem. If a juicy sexpot had eight inches of vagina, and there was a nine inch cock… how did that work, exactly?

Over in the corner, Tara and Candice were in heat. They slurped madly at big bowls of milk, drinking as fast as they could, faces wet with spilled milk and feverish. Boys were bringing them more and more, watching them get soaked from head to toe with more of the juice-doped milk. Candice dropped her bowl to the ground, let it crack, and started to rub madly at her jean-encased slit.

“Gosh, we might’ve given them too much,” Courtney said. But she didn’t seem concerned.

Wait, Fiancee?

“Fiancee?” Emily mumbled. Andrea was trying, unsuccessfully so far, to reach in and get the dildo back out. She squeezed harder, to keep it inside.

“We’re both gonna marry Donald and Thomas! I know, I’m excited too.”

Andrea gave up on trying to find the dildo, and just pushed her fingers inside, instead. Emily felt stretched, full to bursting, completely filled up with… everything.

There was a hand on her shoulder, one without long fingernails. And then a boy’s voice, strong and confident.

“Emily, come on,” Brian said. “We’ve got to get going.”

She nearly cried out in relief. Instead, Emily orgasmed, floating in a river of bumpy, burning pleasure. She turned to her man, clutched him with both arms. Andrea and Chrissie, in the presence of a boy, turned docile and submissive. They said nothing as Brian lifted her up.

Most of the cafeteria watched her fumble with her downed shorts, pulling them up only slowly. The other half watched Tara try to remember how to take her pants off. Candice had fallen to her knees, and slurped on the cock of a nearby boy.

Brian took her arm, and she walked along with him. “We’ll get to the car, and get going,” her boy said. His harsh boy scent flooded her, and Emily licked her lips. She nodded as hard as she could. A savior. At last. And freedom from the sexual perversion that was Camp Science Preparation.

“Emily, come on,” he said, frowning. “Hurry up,”

Emily paused. She pulled down her shorts again, over her ass, and squirmed with one hand over her hairless slit. Then she pulled out the dildo and dropped the dripping tool to the floor.

“Sorry,” she said, meekly. “Lets go.”

* * *

Brian drove a small hatchback. The backseat was full of discarded fast food bags. It smelled like old French fries and long, sweaty drives. The car itself was ugly and brown, with new mud on the sides. It was the best thing Emily had ever seen.

Her boy was dressed in the usual khaki pants and long-sleeved blue shirt. His face had determined resolution all over it. Emily thought about giving him a thank-you hummer right there in the car, but decided against it. For now.

“I guess I shouldn’t have doubted you,” Brian said, glancing sidelong. They zipped out of the parking lot. The faded “Camp Mo-wan-oke” sign with “Camp Science Preparation” tacked over it disappeared in the rear view. “I mean, look at you, Emily. Wow.”

“I’m all boob,” Emily said, looking down. Her pendulous tits didn’t even need a bra. And if they weren’t bad enough, her nipples were more then faintly ridiculous.

“You are,” Brian agreed. “How about the rest of you?”

Emily ticked them off on her fingers. “Brain is all stupid and stuff. Slippery fun pussy. All my little hairs fell out. Brain is all stupid and stuff.”

Her boy shifted in his chair, grinned when she turned away, and sped up.

They passed the freeway onramp. Emily blinked at it. Her head tried to push something through. “Should we… ummm.. go on the freeway? If we’re making escapes?” she said. Her body flushed, embarrassed to be contradicting a boy. Of course Brian knew what he was doing.

“We will, don’t worry,” Brian said, soothing. He passed into the outlet mall. It was nearly deserted, this early in the morning, except for a few bleary-eyed salesgirls. “But first I think we need to get you cleaned up. You’re a mess.”

That was hard to argue with. Emily looked like a porn star caught in a flash flood. Her shirt was stretched and thin over her boobs, and her shorts were going to give way the next time she swiveled her ass.

“And then we’ll escape, Brian?” she said.

Brian just smiled at her. “Sure, kitten.”

* * *

“Brian,” Emily said, uncertain. “Is this okay? I can’t really walk that good in these…”

She tip-toed in the unfamiliar height of heels. Emily had expected her man to zero in on something sensible, for running away in. Instead, Brian had immediately headed for the leather and straps section of the shoe store. He had picked out little black boots, with a point heel, and insisted she put her tan feet into them.

“You can’t run anyways, with your boobs like that,” Brian pointed out.

That was true. And he was paying for them, with a credit card and everything. Emily didn’t even have her identification with her. Not that she still looked like the girl in the photo. Only the glasses were the same.

She tried a few more steps. The heels forced her to walk in a perfectly straight line. Her crescent-shaped ass revolved as she walked. The two male storekeeps eyed her openly. Their eyes felt good on her boobs.

Emily took another halting step forwards, and something finally gave way on her overstretched shorts. There was a short tearing sound, as her puffed-up rear finally broke through the stitching. She clasped her hand over it, and looked to Brian, mortified.

He nodded, solemnly. “We’ll just have to do something about that.”

* * *

They had left her underwear in the trash bin. It was a dingy grey mess, anyways. The air felt weird, but good, against her slit.

The twosome had the dressing room to themselves. Emily had mutely watched Brian hand the shopkeep a wad of money. Why? It was confusing.

“Are you sure?” she said, admiring her reflection. “It makes me look…”

“Great,” Brian insisted. “It makes you look great.”

He had trailed through the store, Emily teetering on his arm. Everyone turned and whispered, watching the big-boobed girl with the slutty big lips hanging on the arm of the geek. And then noticing her tan skin through the hole in her shorts. Brian had pulled out all the shortest, skimpiest things he could find. He seemed to know exactly what her size was, even in her newly padded body.

“It makes me look… slutty,” Emily thought, her mind finally tossing out the vocabulary. First he had put her in shorts, tight jean shorts that hugged her charms, then thin spandex shorts that rubbed at her clit. The latter half of the shorts had wet stains on the front, where she had soaked them with increasing arousal.

Now he had her in skirts. This one was short and black, but with a neon pink stripe on the side that looked like a racing decal. She could only take the smallest, most mincing steps.

“Bend over for a second, I’ll show you why it’s perfect,” Brian prompted. He had gotten more and more comfortable with ordering her around.

She did so, acutely aware of her boobs dangling, like Christmas ornaments. “See?” she said, craning her neck back. “You can see my puss—“

Brian reached forward and stroked her presented clit. It felt like a red-hot shock of lightning. Emily’s objections died on her lips.

“See how good this is?” Brian prompted. “I can touch you whenever I want. All I have to do is bend you over. Isn’t this nice?”

His fingers were kneading at her clit now, expertly. A warm streak of lubrication leaked onto her thighs. Brian took it a step farther, putting his fingers inside her.

“Yeah… it’s nice…” Emily said, pushing back, squeezing her eyes shut. Access was good…

“You can finger yourself too, if you want,” Brian told her.

“What about… my underwear?” Emily said, puzzled.

Brian waved a hand, dismissive. “It’d just get in the way. This is way better.”

Of course it would. Brian removed his finger. Too soon. She was into it, wrapped around the needling touch of his hands. But they were escaping, after all.

* * *

He fucked her when they went shopping for tops.

Emily walked slowly. The need for gum was starting up again. She could feel it starting to pulse in her head, that need for something to chew on. Fuzzing up what remained of her mind. “Can we go fast?” she said, pleading.

Brian took her into the nearest boutique.

Finding anything that would fit at all over her chest was a challenge.

Emily trailed behind him, feeling the air on her panty-less pussy with every short step. When Brian stopped, to check something out in the store, he would often slip a finger underneath her brand new skirt and feel her up a bit. Emily rode constantly on the edge of orgasm, waiting for that final touch that would push her up and over the edge.

They picked up white button-downs that didn’t really fit, see-through mock-business shirts, tank-tops that were nearly split apart by her nipples. A growing stack of clothes that exposed her navel and showed off her body. Brian didn’t even bother to look at bras.

“Finally!” he said, smiling broadly. Her boy pulled out a lacy pink top, with black buttons. It would match perfectly her slutty skirt, mark her as a a 80s J-Pop icon with enormous tits and luscious lips. He rushed Emily to the dressing room, tossing more bills at the surprised clerk, and pulled shut the door.

“Hurry,” he said, breathing hard. “Try it on. Come on.”

Emily tossed her shirt to the side. She slid the new one on, buttoned the top button. The pink clearly traced her boobs, and still did nothing to hide her nipples. With the skirt she looked like a color-coordinated toy, to be dressed and undressed at will.

That made her even hotter.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. You look fucking perfect,” Brian said. He grabbed her ass, easily lifted her up, and braced her against the concrete wall with one arm. His other undid his belt and released his cock. Then, in the same easy motion, he aimed Emily’s slit at the trembling length.

Emily spread her legs, to help out.

He entered her, grunting, pinning her between wall and boy. Only the new padding on her body kept it from hurting. Instead, it felt fantastic—a real, live, thrusting cock instead of plastic or fingers. A big hard one, already leaking pre-cum, bombarding her with signals of fun and happiness.

Courtney was right. This did substitute for gum.

For the first time, Emily wondered if that was intended.

She wrapped her legs around him, thudded her heels against his back in time, pushing him forwards. Brian had no control and finesse. He rammed his cock into her slit, out again, then in as fast and hard as he could. But the friction was intense, and she was already so wet and needy, that Emily started to scream with each artless stroke. She needed it, any way she could get it, whatever he would provide.

When he came, she managed to time her third orgasm to match his.

Afterwards, cooing and helpless, she cleaned his cock with her tongue. “Brian?” she said, looking up with cum-stained glasses. “Can I be your housewife-scientist?”

Brian, tired, nodded his head. “Sure, kitten. Whatever you want.”

For the first time, Emily felt like that would be enough.

* * *

Back in the car, Brian produced a makeup kit.

“Put on some mascara… and some kind of lipstick,” he said, putting the car back in gear.

“Oh, for the disguise?” Emily said, eagerly. It was all worked out in her head, now. She would be Brian’s eager and loving housewife, getting fucked regular, putting her brains back together in the afternoon through flashcards and educational television.

“Sure, for the disguise. Oh. And I think you’d look good in pigtails.”

Actually, she looked like even more of a ditz in pigtails. But whatever Brian wanted, he got. He was her savior, after all. She did them up as they drove.

Which was why it was a surprise when the Camp Science Preparation sign appeared ahead of them. As well as the familiar row of long pine trees, on the shores of the distant lake. Was this a… different Camp Science Preparation? What was going on?

“Brian? Why are we going back?” Emily asked, timorously. She shifted in her little black skirt. She still didn’t have any underwear on.

Brian slipped his hand, reassuring, onto her inner thigh. He stroked gently at her pussy. The boy was getting better at finding her clit.

“There’s one other thing you have to do, before you leave,” he said, gently. “Just one thing.”

Emily swallowed, hard. “What?”

“Tonight is the Campfire. And you have a presentation to make, kitten.”

* * *

Where had the day gone? They had left after breakfast. That meant… like tenish. But now the sun was already starting to near the horizon on the distant far shore of Lake Five. The bonfire had arrived.

That meant something like seven or eightish hours had passed in dressing rooms, giving out blowjobs and collecting poundings on the wall. That would explain the big pile of bags in the backseat of Brian’s car, on top of the fast food refuse.

Emily pulled at her mind, strained to draw conclusions from observable facts, fought hard to coax something intelligent from the fog of fucked-out brains she was using for a mind. It finally came together when Brian pulled into the parking lot.

“You’re in on it, aren’t you?” she said, searching Brian’s eyes. “In on… the gum..”

Brian put his hand on her ass, and guided her forwards. “Good job on that. Why don’t we talk after the campfire?”

It was already prepared, on the shores of the lake, where the slope dipped into a pile of green-muck rocks. A bonfire roared, blasting at her exposed skin. Eager nerds heaped more firewood on the inferno, building it higher and higher. The others had already gathered in rows, organized by their totem animals. Brian rejoined Bobcat Tribe after leaving her at the front of the makeshift amphitheater.

The boys had already set up her computer, along with a projector and a white piece of butcher paper for the screen. “You just need to push the play button,” one of them said, as he brushed past.

The fire-starters finished up. They settled back into their respective tribes.

Soon it was just her, in her pigtails and makeup and puffy tits, in front of over one hundred and sixty eager male eyes. The girls of Tribe Butterfly were nowhere to be seen.

“Be a Scientist,” Emily told herself. Not just a gum-slut.

So she straightened up and tottered on her heels over to the computer. When she bent over, to press the play button, over eighty boys drank in the sight of her exposed pussy, reflecting with firelight. Cum dried on her thighs under the heat of the flame.

Emily pushed the play button on her very first try.

A beam of light shot out of the projector, illuminating a crude green turtle, on an empty field. It had been made out of circles and other geometric shapes, with a basic attempt to color in its shell. The mouth of the computer animated amphibian was covered in lipstick.

Emily held her breath.

The turtle took one, single step forwards. And then another, and another, until it was looped on the screen, running to nowhere with stumpy legs.

Emily turned around, crossed her arms underneath her chest, and beamed. The boys rose up and applauded, whistling loudly, calling for her to bend over and bow.

She had done it, after all, gum or no gum.

* * *

That was when Courtney emerged, from the side of the stage. She was escorted by the Camp Administrator, a weasely man with a brushy mustache and big black eyes. He had his hand on Courtney’s ass, and the blonde walked alongside, with perfectly lady-like strides.

He took the microphone from Emily, and nodded at her, politely.

“And now, for the group project of the other Tribes,” the Administrator said. He nodded at Courtney, and she pirouetted. They had dressed her in white, with stockings the same virginal color. She stood ramrod straight, like she was being auctioned.

“It took all summer, and the work of her fledgling Chemists, our Pre-Meds, even our Engineers and our other scientific disciplines, all working together in inter-tribal harmony,” the Administrator said.

“But with the right motivation, and with the help of Science, nothing is truly beyond the students of Camp Science Preparation. So, before you go forth next week onto your careers in science, I present to you your first triumph: Bunny and the girls of Tribe Butterfly!”

That was the cue.

Eleven girls ran out of the dusk, in slutwear or sex-based costumes or in almost nothing at all. They ran in heels, none smaller then at least several inches, but picked their way easily through the mud. Big tits, fronted by out-thrust nipples and massive aureole, jiggled in time with their long strides.

They gathered in a line, nearly all the same height, with the same stupid smiles, and curtsey-d to the crowd. Eleven pairs of panties, in leather or plastic or skimpy cotton, flashed the hooting boys.

Even Samantha was there somehow, impossibly. They had bundled her off to their parents, hadn’t they? But there she was, laced up in a dark corset and carrying a mock-leather whip. She had blue blush painted on her cheeks, and way too much lipstick, like a kind of bondage doll.

The girls turned, and bent over. Eleven rear ends were presented for approval. The crowd roared, even louder, a wave of lust and desire crashing towards the juice-infected girls in front of the bonfire.

Courtney stood in front of them all. Or… what was her name, now? Emily couldn’t quite remember.

A breeze had blasted a familiar scent through the crowd, arising up from the bonfire itself.

The smell of burning wood, yes, but topped with… gum?

She licked her lips, and let it run through her. The rationalizations, rattled thoughts, and remnants of prim and proper Scientist were filed away with each new breath.

“Bunny is proud to show off the delectable ladies of our Tribe! The sexiest, sluttiest Scientists in the whole big world!” her roommate said. She giggled, and twirled. Bunny had the highest shoes of all, with a tent spike of a heel. She had a cotton ball tail pasted on to the back of her plastic-wrapped ass.

Even Candice and Tara were there. Not as bimboized as the others. Tara was still heavy, only halfway down to the bombshell weight of the girls in line with her. But she had been shoved into a cowgirl costume, with a tiny ten-gallon hat and jean cutoffs. Lithe little Candice didn’t have her tits yet, but she was pawing at her chest anyways, overcome with need.

A boy took Emily’s hand. “Come on, Kitten,” Brian whispered, into her ear. She followed him backwards, to the edge of the fire. He hugged her, from behind, and tugged idly at her tits. His cock rested up against the curve of her ass, and she wriggled back against it.

The girls in the line began to dance. Or rather, it started as a dance, with a few basic moves and back-and-forth pivots. Twirling in a circle, then stepping towards the light, wriggling their rears in time. Stretching their legs wide, touching their toes, and winking at the audience, who clapped a rhythm.

It wasn’t until they turned once more, and pushed their fingers into their slits, that Emily sort of recognized what was going on. It wasn’t dancing. The girls on the stage didn’t have the brains to manage a rhythm, anyways. It was a meat market, demonstrating tits and ass and willingness to use them. The Butterflies picked up their boobs, rolled them around, and flicked their nipples into full extension.

Brian roughly tugged down her shorts, just enough to expose her ass. Emily bent herself forwards, automatically. It just seemed like the natural thing to do whenever her bare pussy was exposed to the air. Her body got itself ready for another rough fucking, bracing against the ground and juicing up like a welling fountain. What little remained of her mind was occupied by the firelit girls, dancing and sweating, turned into gyrating figures eager for a fucking.

Brian grunted, and she obediently bent a little more forwards, so that his cock could slam home.

Even with her preparation, the sensation of a boy’s dick hitting the inside of her frazzled cunt made her scream and pant, bucking back against the intruder. To shudder and nearly fall, as the sensation crashed in thundering waves on the inside of her fragile little girly mind. But Emily kept watching the girls, nonetheless.

The dance was only a few minutes long. Any longer and there would’ve been a riot. Instead, Bunny flicked her fingers, and her campers obediently scattered up the slopes of the shore, into the waiting ranks of boys. Each girl picked out one of the boy tribes. One girl for every twelve or so boys, but that didn’t seem like a challenge, at this point. That seemed like the bare minimum, for the involuntary nymphs.

Brian finished up, grunting as he spilled more seed into the inside of Emily’s wet slit. She straightened, to keep as much of it inside as possible. Brian pulled her shorts back up, for some reason. Then he led her up the slope as well, past eager lines of boys, and girls starting to fall onto their knees.

Reading was hard, but Emily recognized the cardboard cutout of the name of Brian’s tribe.

They were the Bobcats.

“Okay, Kitten,” he whispered, into her ear. “Here we go.”

Kitten nodded, eagerly, and fell to her knees.

* * *

She remembered the night in camera-flashes. Nothing else broke up the night of sucking and fucking, the automatic slurping on any cock presented, the obedient spreading for various cocks.

It was dark, too. There was only the embers of the bonfire, the stars overhead… and the flash of cameraphones to illuminate anything.

There were plenty of sounds, though. Wet sounds, with low moaning, punctuated by the not-infrequent scream of a girl cumming. Frequently muffled by the cock in her mouth.

First she was placed in front of Tribe Bobcat, the hot wind of the campfire lacing her mind with burnt gum, making her mouth water. Brian, temporarily spent, whispered for her to pull up her shirt. A cheering gallery of flashes bounced off her ripe tits, and she smiled for the geeks, big smiles at them all.

“Alphabetically,” Brian reminded them, and Kitten wondered what that meant.

* * *

Then the next flash, and she was bobbing, anxiously, on a fat spark plug of a cock. It smelled sweaty, and dripped into her throat a trickle of boy-cum. The boy it was attached to was tall, and she had to rise on her knees as far as she could in order to get it down her mouth. Technique was unnecessary; all she had to do was attack it with her tongue, sucking desperately for more fluid. Strange; she hadn’t eaten all day, except for the salty protein of sperm.

She held two other cocks, one in each hand, and rubbed at the undersides. One of them took a photo just as he came, and the picture caught her pretty face, with the big lips, getting drenched in month’s worth of pent-up cum.

* * *

Another flash, and the campfire was starting to fade, turning into a dark red jumble of logs. No one had any interest in rebuilding the inferno. Kitten’s skirt was pulled up around her waist, and she was on her hands and knees. She was tag-teamed between two shaking, tiny boys, about her size. They didn’t have the biggest dicks, which made it easy to push back and forth. The one behind her seemed entranced by the shaking of her ass, and kept squeezing her cheeks. Her only regret with the otherwise-filling feeling was that her tits were unattended.

“Smile, kitten,” someone said, for what seemed the millionth time. She tried to smile into the outstretched camera, but there was a cock in her mouth.

* * *

Flash. Some of the boys had fallen asleep, exhausted, half-naked on the beach. The rest had moved closer to the fading fire. It was mostly embers by this point. The moon was starting to fade, up in the sky.

Kitten bounced up and down on a tired boy, driving his cock inside her. She was past thinking in terms of orgasms, or sensation, or really, of anything. Fucking just felt ordinary. Crying out and nearly falling over was usual. If there wasn’t something rubbing against her clit, building up more lazy waves of pleasure, it was strange.

Her shirt had gotten torn off, in the melee, and her skirt was only still on because it didn’t get in the way. She pushed down on the cock in her snatch, felt her pelvis rock against her lover’s. He was sort of fat, and it was difficult to get over the top of his belly, but she rode him anyways. She picked herself up, rode the very tip in another glorious moment of stimulation, and let herself fall back down.

They were all moving closer to the fire, now. Which meant that Kitten caught occasional glances of other girls, in the flashes of cameras, as boys recorded their cum-shots. She had seen the two ex-goths collaborating on a single cock, which seemed like a ridiculous waste of time, with so many to be attended to. Candice, mouth open, to catch a half-dozen boys working their own dicks with furious intensity. And others, all glazed with sperm.

But not Bunny.

* * *

A few more weak flashes. But most of the boys, even the most enthusiastic, had given into the limits of their own endurance. A lifetime of sitting in front of computers and masturbation hadn’t given them any staying power. Especially when confronted with walking wet dreams. Sometimes Kitten had needed to sit on three cocks in a row, each one spouting off prematurely, before she could find one that would drive her over the top.

What was she doing? This wasn’t a cock. It was Alicia’s snatch, sticky and oozing cum. The remaining boys had placed the two in a crude sixty-nine. They had cheerfully responded, licking avidly at smooth snatches, encouraged and driven crazy by the oozing from well-filled cunts. The squishiness of boobs against each other didn’t hurt, either.

“Do you like this?” one of the boys asked, curious.

Kitten nodded. “This is fun!” she said, and licked extra hard, for emphasis. Alicia mewed, and licked harder herself, and talking was impossible again.

* * *

The sun rose, and Kitten woke up.

The gum-smoke had cleared away, along with the last of the bonfire. Which meant that the primal nymphomaniacal urge had faded, a bit, and let Kitten think of something other then the next cock in the line. Not that she felt capable of much more then addition, subtraction, and maybe some light looking at pictures.

The beach was not pretty, in the morning. Dozens of snoring nerds, most of them with their dicks still hanging out. Strewn among them, twelve girls, with perfect bodies, sore jaws, and happy expressions, and maybe a few brain cells between them.

Kitten stood up. Her knees were sore, and muddy. She was completely naked, and that was probably a bad thing, for reasons that would no doubt come to her. She idly tried to think of stuff, just to see what it was like. She could remember being smart, and doing Science stuff, and being into things like numbers. But they hardly seemed interesting. Kitten ran through the alphabet, and got most of the letters right, except for some of the tricky vowels.

And then Bunny was there, rousing from the center of a circle of boys. She picked her way through the dozing guys, and made her way to Kitten. The two hugged each other, giggling madly.

“Ohmygod, you should see your face!” Kitten said, tittering.

“Is it all cummy?” Bunny said, dabbing at it. “Yours is too, silly!”

They hugged again.

“I’m sorry I called you the B-word,” Kitten said, contrite. They walked away from the boys, so that no one would wake up. “I didn’t mean it! I want us to be sexy fuck girls together forever and touch your titties.”

Bunny nodded. She kept dabbing at her face, sucking more cum off it. “Me too!” she said. “And maybe we could do some book reading, if you want to.”

Kitten looked coy, and winked. “Maybe… for old time’s sake.”

There was something white and poofy on the ground. Kitten picked it up, examined it, then handed it over to Bunny. Her white cotton tail. The girl fastened it around her waist. That made one piece of clothing, between them.

Two early-risers emerged from the cabins, boys that had fallen asleep early, last night. They saw Kitten and Bunny, and walked over, with eager expressions.

Kitten and Bunny kneeled, next to each other, and opened their mouths.

* * *

EPILOGUE:

It was one week later, at the real end of Camp Science Preparation. The boys had already been sent off to begin, with great eagerness, future careers in the fields of Science. Camp Science Preparation prided itself on motivating leaders in the technical fields.

The twelve ladies of Camp Butterfly kneeled in a row, fresh from a much-needed shower. The Administrator and Brian gave each a wad of the antidote, and they started to chew. The drug took effect within a few minutes, and they keeled over, onto the floor. To wake up with normal bodies and extremely unsure memories.

Brian put Emily’s glasses back on. She hadn’t needed them, this past week.

“This is what, her second year?” the Camp Administrator said.

“One as a Camper, second as a Counselor,” Brian said. He had first met her eager mouth a year years ago, where the High School grad had been named Suk-me and kept around in schoolgirl skirts. “She really likes the Camp.”

“Huh,” The Administrator said. They both examined the small girl. She had been all-smiles for the entire week. The only problem had been keeping her from sneaking off for fun with Bunny. “Do you think she remembers any of this, on some level? And that keeps her coming back? Might be some weakness in the gum’s formula”

Brian thought about it. “Yeah, you know…” he said, “Maybe you’re right.”

“But personally? I think she’s just really into Science.”

CAREERS IN SCIENCE PART 3 OF 4 by Limerick

“I just swallowed the gum,” Emily realized, feeling sick.

Her roommate waltzed in. Or, rather, what her roommate looked like after the gum had had its way with her.

Courtney had changed outfits. She had probably slipped out to the outlet stores down the road. They were, after all, a mere ten minutes from the supposedly-backwoods Camp. Most were remainder stores, castoffs of what had been deemed too cheap, too silly, or too garish to buy. Courtney had embraced them all.

The blonde wore a black faux-leather bustier, strapped tightly around a tiny waist. Underneath she wore a flimsy, gauzy red tanktop. That showcased the slope of her tits. The growth had, if anything, sped up. Where that morning she had owned a serviceable pair of boobs, Courtney’s chest now teetered towards outright slutty. They were far too large for her body, and were destined to dominate any conversations.

“Jesus, Courtney, your tits!” Emily blurted. Courtney’s eyes swiveled towards her. At some point the blonde had raided a makeup kit, and her lashes were teased out in a long arc.

Emily blushed, added more pink to cheeks already flushed from her interrupted self-play. And, she noticed, her fingers hadn’t managed to remove themselves from the warm slit of her pussy. Under the blanket they had started to explore again.

“Aren’t they fantastic?” Courtney babbled, grabbing and lifting them. “They’re great! They’re… they’re big-ass boobs!”

Her eyes were lost to that glazed bimbo sheen.

“You’ve been chewing all day?” Emily said. Her fingers found her clit, and started to stroke it. “God, look at yourself, Courtney! You look like some sort of cheap porn star!”

Courtney shuddered, Emily realized, with real pleasure. She hadn’t meant it as a compliment.

“I can’t believe how amazing I look,” she gushed, admiring her reflection. The boobs were just the most dominant part of her changes. The old Emily, the bag of sticks and bones, was lost beneath an increasingly well-padded bombshell. “And everything feels really good. REALLY good. I’ve got this trick where if I touch my nipples together, they..”

“Courtney, listen to yourself! Look, you’ve got to quit this gum. It does stuff to girls. Makes them all… feminine and… girly!”

“Oh, that’s horrible. I’ll actually look like a girl,” Courtney said, rolling her eyes.

“No, I mean…” What did she mean? She felt so stupid, trying to put together words… her fingers danced, under the blanket… “stupid! It makes girls stupid. They can’t think of smart stuff.”

There was a flicker of trepidation. “You sure?” Courtney said.

“Who wrote the Declaration of Independence?”

“Thomas Jefferson. No, wait! George Washington!”

“Neither,” Emily said, sadly. “It was Ben Franklin.” Wait, was that right? “Don’t you want to be a Scientist? I thought we were going to be Mathemagicians together!”

“You know what? Maybe I don’t want to be a smart-ass,” Courtney said, scowling. She crossed her arms, underneath her boobs. “I had the best day ever, today. Maybe I DON’T care if I can’t factor things like a whiz. Why should I?”

“Because…” Emily groped for an answer. But she was getting close to a quiet little orgasm, and her head wasn’t cooperating with thoughts. “Science is good for lots of stuff! Like… saving… animals.. and trees…”

“Even I can come up with better reasons then that,” Courtney said, puzzled.

She strode across the room, leaned in very close to her shuddering roommate. Even then, Emily couldn’t seem to pull her hand out of her snatch. Not when she was so close to cumming…

Courtney smiled. “Aww, I recognize that smell. You’re chewing the gum too, aren’t you?”

“No! I mean, just a little…” Emily said, weakly.

“Lets see those Emily-tits,” Courtney coaxed. “I’ll bet you’re adorable with big boobs. Come on! Up with shirt!”

Courtney tugged it up herself, and grinned. “They’re beautiful!”

Emily looked down.

She had boobies.

Firm, heavy ones, with puffy nipples. They must’ve grown throughout the day, piling more weight onto the top of her chest. Her formerly boyish chest was now topped with two scoops of tit.

And now she had gone and swallowed a big wad of gum.

“These are really nice,” Courtney said, admiring them. “Look how round they are.” Her hot gaze was too much. Emily quaked, her fingers pushing her over the edge.

Courtney chose that moment to turn to the mirror and admire her own rack. “I think I like having these,” she announced. “I think I’m going to keep them. I don’t feel any more stupid, and besides, I had way too many brains anyways. Brains are gross, have you seen them?”

Emily finally managed to pull her hand out of her slit. “It’s… it’s addictive, too,” she wheezed, exhausted from the orgasm. “You can’t stop chewing. It’s just too good.”

“I can stop chewing,” Courtney said, affronted.

“Go ahead,” Emily said. “Stop.”

Courtney fished around in her mouth, pulled out her wad of gum. It was huge; the blonde’s approach was apparently to keep cramming in sticks. She looked at it, then tossed it out the window. The rain had started up once more, and it pitter-pattered across both sides of the roof.

“You too, kitten,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “I know you’ve got some stashed away.”

Emily reached out, with her wet hand, and tossed her packs of gum across the room. Courtney took them.

“See? Was that so hard? As if gum is addicting,” she said. “You worry too much, sweetie. You’ve got boobs! Be happy!”

“I am happy,” Emily told her. And that was what was kind of scary. How gosh darned good every single thing felt.

* * *

Emily stared up at the ceiling of the cabin, drifting in and out of sleep. Her thoughts moved slowly. They felt stifled and held up, like she was still dreaming, and forcing them through a sticky syrup of ooze.

But even when she sat up, and shook her head, the cotton-y feeling remained. Like there was a ball in her head she had to think around. It was the first thing in the morning, and the grey light slugged in.

Her roommate sat in her chair and masturbated in front of the mirror. Emily watched, mouth open. It was a business-like finger-fuck, designed to quickly bring her off.

At some point Courtney had lost her body hair. She was smooth and unblemished, and completely naked, a well-toned ass perched in the wooden chair. Her eyes, in the mirror’s reflection, stared at her boobs. They looked like big bowls of cream, topped with strawberry-red nipples, and her left hand rubbed at them. A natural valley of cleavage had formed.

Her right hand was busy thrusting up her smooth pussy lips.

She noticed Emily sitting up.

“Whoops,” she giggled, unapologetic. “Sorry, Emily. I thought you were sleeping! Do you mind if I finish up? We’re just girls and all, and I’m kind of horny.”

“No, that’s… fine,” Emily mumbled.

She turned to the weight on her own chest. Her boobs had grown more. Not only that, but her lips felt thick and heavy, and her voice sounded… wrong. Too… breathy.

Courtney came. It was utterly unabashed, quaking and shaking in the chair.

She was chewing the gum again.

“You’re chewing the gum again,” Emily noted. Hadn’t they promised something about that?

“Whoops, am I?” Courtney said, even while she smacked it. “I guess it is making me into a bit of an airhead, huh?”

“More then a little,” Emily swung out of bed, and nearly toppled over. Her center of.. what was it called… gravity… had shifted.

“I’m a blonde, it’s destiny,” Courtney said. “Blondes are dumb. Well-known fact. Big, sexy, fuckable dumbos.”

“You’re in…” what was the word? “Denial. D-E-N-I-L-E. You’re just in denial! Come on, Courtney! You don’t want to be stupid and stuff!”

“What was that, dear?” Courtney said, cocking her head. “I couldn’t hear you over how fucking sexy I am.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

Courtney turned, and her eyes flashed. Anger flared. “Listen, bitch,” she hissed. “I’m having the time of my life, and you’re trying to bring me down, all the time. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but those things on your chest mean you’re a huge fucking hypocrite. So stop whining at me and live your own life.”

Her best friend turned back around, and stared at the mirror, face set.

Emily slunk out of the cabin, and ran across muddy ground to the showers, sobbing.

* * *

The hair below Emily’s neck fell out in the shower.

”I’m not even chewing the gum!” she shouted at it, as the short black hair circled the drain. Everything on her arms and the results of a summer’s worth of growth on her legs. Most of all, the triangle thatch of hair between her legs. All gone.

The Camp Showers were a drafty collection of aluminum-cast stalls, with nozzles that alternated between blinding pressure and sad tiny trickles. Emily was the first one in, so early in the morning. She scrubbed harshly, even as her little hairs fell out.

Her hair was longer, too. She had kept it in a rigorous bowl cut, just south of her ears. It nearly tickled her shoulders, now.

Courtney’s blistering words coursed through her. The worst part was how right she was. She was just as bad as her roommate, only sneaking the gum at odd moments. Just as horny, too. She had gotten off in the room just last night. And was still wet and aroused this morning.

She sighed, stared into the cracked mirror with the toothpaste flecks. “I look like someone’s fetish,” she thought, forlorn. Scrubbed, shining skin, oh so smooth, with added curves wherever the gum could force some in. Boobs that rode high and proudly, pointing right at whatever she looked at.

At point her eyes had acquired that sexy, sleepy gaze all the gumchewers owned. A look that said “I’m not really thinking all that hard… sexy guy.”

Some more gum would make all the worries go away…

“Hello?” A boy’s voice, of all things. “Emily? Are you in there? It’s, ah, it’s Brian.”

Emily tossed on her clothes, and wrapped her hair in a towel. The Camp outfit of t-shirt and shorts was getting obscene. The shirt was tented by her unbound boobs, and the shorts were painted onto her rear.

“Don’t come in yet!” she yelled. “I’m not decent!”

“Just meet me in the Chem room,” Brian called out. “I’ve researched the gum. You’re not going to believe it.”

Emily looked down at her ridiculous body. “Yes I will!” she called back.

At last, some answers. And some hope.

* * *

Brian held the chunk of gum in his hand. He had obviously prodded it, squished it, and subjected it to all forms of scientific analysis. It had to be covered with a uniform layer of grime and dirt. And Emily’s mouth still watered.

He stood in the center of the empty Chemistry lab, surrounded by suspicious green splotches on the cheap floor.

Emily drew closer. The scent of the gum had, somehow, mixed with the very male scent of a boy in close proximity. Her newly hairless slit started to swell up, and her tits pricked to attention. Her body, confused, wasn’t sure if it wanted the guy or the gum.

“I looked into the gum, just like you asked,” Brian said.

“And?” Emily prompted, eagerly. No doubt it was swimming with chemical thingies, or hormones, or other sorts of weird nasties. Then she could go to the police…

“Nothing,” Brian said.

Emily gawked. “Nothing?”

“Absolutely nothing. It’s 100% regular gum arabica, nothing added. Tastes like nothing, smells like nothing, is nothing. It’s basically like chewing a rubber ball. Why did you ask about it?”

Emily’s mouth hung open.

“No…” Emily said, shaking her head. That couldn’t be right. “It’s weird gum. It makes girls stupid and sexy.”

Brian chuckled. “Is this some sort of practical joke? You can tell me, it’s okay.”

“Brian, look at the titties it gave me!” Emily whined. She pulled up her shirt, and let her light brown boobs bounce around in the Chemical Lab air. “They’re huge, and it’s all because of that stupid gum!”

The effect on her fantasy boy was immediate. Brian’s eyes turned wide and glassy, and his breathing became shallow and hot. His eyes circulated around the glossy, perfect swells of her new boobs.

Emily abruptly realized that she was standing in an darkened room, showing off her tits to a geeky boy. He seemed almost paralyzed by. His hands opened and closed. His right hand still held the foul wad of gum.

She couldn’t seem to convince her hands to drop her shirt back down, and stop giving out a free peep show. And she kept her back arched, with her legs spread wide.

“The gum,” she reminded him, shirt still held high. “The gum did this. It gave me boobs! Look at these!”

Brian shook his head, eyes still locked on her nipples. The pert red tips were starting to bead with sweat. “No… that can’t be right. It does nothing. It doesn’t even taste like anything. I even chewed on it. See?”

And he tossed it into his mouth.

“Noooo…” Emily moaned, watching the tempting white chunk disappear.

Desperate for it now, longing for just a taste of sticky sweet gum juice, she reached up and kissed him on the lips.

Brian, startled, responded automatically, cradling her head and reaching behind her to hold her back. What had been a desperate, half-conscious grab for gum turned into a long, soul-searing kiss.

They held it for a long time, Emily soaking in the few drabs of gum she could get from Brian’s lips. Even that was enough to light a line of fires from tits to snatch.

His hands locked onto her boobs. Emily groaned, into his mouth, and pulled back. She leaned up against the black granite of the countertop, bracing her ass against the cold stone. Brian pressed against her, hungry, his hands shaking and kneading at the same time.

The flow of gum juice and sex surges fused in her head, urging her on, blowing through old inhibitions. Emily could barely remember a lifetime of hiding behind boring clothes, of blushing around boys. All she could think of was how flexible her lithe new body felt, and good it felt to finally have a man’s hands mauling her tender tits.

She watched him pull at her boobs. Emily felt almost like a spectator, watching as he enthusiastically played with them. She whimpered and moaned. Each touch sent more fires into her head, tore away at her mind, replaced it with pink-wet bubbles of pleasure.

It wasn’t enough. She drew him close, so that her tits squished against his chest, and sank her tongue into his mouth.

Her mouth, laced with gum juice, wanted more.

Anything more. Glasses smeared, Emily fell heavily onto her knees. She fumbled with Brian’s cinched belt, tore it open, undid the zipper. Brian was gabbling something, and she barely heard it.

She needed something in her mouth, something salty and a little sweet, and he was just going to have to do.

There was already a trickle of precum squirting out of a healthy-sized cock. Emily licked at it, her little pink tongue darting out to get at the fluid. It wasn’t gum juice, but it wasn’t bad. Salty and hot, with a musky taste that got so close to what she really wanted.

She needed more.

Emily sniffed at the tip, just once, then took it into her mouth. Her lips, pillowy and soft, wrapped around Brian’s cock.

“Jesus, Emily,” he said, from somewhere far up above. “What happened to you?”

His cock was warm, and hard. She bobbed on it, vaguely aware that dicks had to be milked to get at the cream inside. Her tongue worked at the soft underside, in countertime to her frantic sucking, coaxing more juice from his tiny hole.

Brian grabbed at her hair, and rammed his cock farther down, much more then she was ready for. Emily nearly choked on it, and fought to stay steady, to keep rocking her head back and forth on his over-eager strokes. She tried to bath it in spit, keep her teeth from closing in. He was harsh and insistent, and sparing with the little bits of cum she craved.

Finally, groaning, holding her far too tight, Brian came. Emily waited for it, and was rewarded, at long last. Her mouth flooded with warm, salty sperm. Even as a pale reflection of the gum it filled her world, gave her something to cheer about. She swallowed eagerly, catching a spurt that had trickled down her chin. Emily sucked at his softening dick until he finally pulled out, spent.

“Wow,” he said, still breathing hard. Emily had never managed to tuck her tits in, and they still glowed in the warm air.

She had given a blowjob. To Brian.

So much for romantic fantasies. Her dreams had hardly been a grope-session in the dark of a stinking chemistry room, followed by an intense and eager blowjob.

And yet, Emily sat on the floor, dazed and contented. Warm with pleasure. What was left of her scientific mind, disgusted, came up with an explanation.

She had gotten her fix.

* * *

“I’ve got… I’ve got to go,” she mumbled, stumbling out of the dark room. Brian didn’t seem to have the leg strength to go after her.

“No, wait,” he called, striding forwards. “We should talk!” He stumbled on his pulled-down pants, and nearly fell onto his face. Emily took the chance to dart out the door. Her tongue kept licking at the insides of her mouth, looking for hidden deposits of boy juice.

She was five steps out the door before Emily remembered to pull her shirt down.

Her first blowjob. And she had gotten nothing in return, her tits still burning with heavy arousal, her newly-bare snatch dripping with bits of moisture. And all overlaid with a burning desire to get at some of the gum, to let the sweet scent blow her troubles away.

Emily remembered, through a fog. She had left some in the Classroom. In the back of the cabinet, the two packs liberated from Chrissie and Andrea. She could sneak in, take a single stick, chew just enough to relieve the pressure on her overheated head. Her tits couldn’t get that much bigger, right?

She stumbled to the classroom, t-shirt soaking in the rain. She had left her umbrella with Brian and his potent cock.

It wasn’t until she had nearly walked through the door, hair dribbling rainwater onto the ground, that she remembered that Courtney had a class to teach.

She walked in anyways.

* * *

The girls of Tribe Butterfly didn’t even turn to look at her. They had shoved the long rows of computers against the wide of the wall, to open up the center of the room. There were nine of them, and Courtney, arrayed in a single circle underneath the overhead light.

The girls had placed a low table in the middle of the group. It groaned with cosmetics. A red, brown, and black jumble of little glass bottles and cheap plastic trays. A battle line of lipsticks had colonized the east end, and the middle was dominated by a big leather case, filled to the brim with nail polish.

The air smelled like acetone… and gum.

All of the girls were chewing gum.

Even the girls trying to affix more lipstick kept chewing, and the white substance flashed behind their teeth. The center of the room swirled with a tornado of the sweet smell, that spicy, beautiful…

Emily backed against the wall. Still no one had bothered to acknowledge her. But she could watch them.

The row was a showcase for mouthwatering chests. Not a single girl in Tribe Butterfly didn’t have a proud, heavy pair of breasts, stuffed into some sort of t-shirt or dress or other inadequate confinement. Nipples were proud, long, and erect. And the tits were impossibly similar, too. Some part of Emily’s frazzled head knew that girl-boobs came in teardrops, or in round, with natural cleavage and without. But these all rode high, close to each other, and jutted out. Tits that were easy to grab and hard to hide.

There the similarities ended. The chubby girls had all lost huge amounts of weight, shedding pound after pound apparently overnight. But they were still curvy bombshells, with arcing, back-and-forth bodies that pushed at inadequate clothes. All had perfect bubble-butts, almost levitating on their chairs, and ripe, inviting thighs. Heather, who had once correctly figured out the Bezier equation, flared in an all-red tanktop with a short jean skirt. Wendy had on a light green tanktop and black spandex shorts.

The beanpoles had added a layer of padding to accentuate slender, graceful curves. They dripped sensuality, with big, plump lips and long hair that curled around wide-eyed faces. All of them had achingly long legs, and knew it, dressed in skirts and high knee socks. One—Vanessa? From the front row?—had even torn apart her jeans, everything below the very upper thighs. She looked like redneck slut.

And finally, Courtney. She floated in her haze of gum and accentuated boobs, and instructed the girls on makeup and boys.

“Thick,” she told them, in her sex-kitten voice. “Thick and heavy. That’s how guys like lipstick. It should rub off on them. Something to remember you by.”

“Chrissie left a ring around Phillip,” Andrea said. The ex-goths had been colonized by more and more pink and pastel. Andrea wore a pair of shorts in light yellow, which must’ve flossed her pussy lips. Up top she wore a tight pink sweater. The only bit of black left were her very obvious panties. “You should’ve seen it!”

Everyone giggled, including Chrissie, who licked her lips theatrically. She had found a light blue dress, which squished her tits into a sheath. Each breath fought the side zipper.

The two had matching pink heels.

“Wait,” said Vanessa. She looked confused. “Do you mean… his dick?”

They all giggled again, and one of them playfully pushed Vanessa. “Dumbo,” she said, and Vanessa blushed. A finger slipped into her mouth, thoughtfully.

Alicia, the other Asian girl, was getting made up like a tiny doll by the other members of Tribe Butterfly. Two of them dusted her face with concealer, and brushed on long waves of blue mascara onto the tops of her eyes. She sat perfectly still, without moving an inch, as they cooed over her body. Emily recognized the girl’s tits. She just had to look down at herself.

Tribe Butterfly was a total loss. She needed to get the gum, and get out.

Emily inched along the side of the wall, towards the cabinet where she had stashed the precious packs of gum. Behind her, the girls started to compare nail polish. The consensus leaned towards pink.

She opened the back of the cabinet, rummaged eagerly inside for the precious packs. She could just chew a little bit. Okay, so she would be the biggest-boobed girl in the science department. And probably not the smartest, any more. But she could still program… although she might need a boy to help her with the harder stuff…

“Looking for these?” Courtney said.

Everyone in the circle turned to look at her. Emily shrank underneath their gum-buzzed looks, and happy, vapid smiles. Courtney, in their midst, held up the two big packs of gum.

“No,” Emily said. She shook her head, defiant. “I don’t. Not me.”

Courtney surveyed her with long-lidded eyes. “No?”

“Just… stay away from me,” Emily said, shrinking back along the wall. She locked eyes with Courtney, her best friend. Ex-best friend. “Bitch.”

The girls tittered, amused. Emily walked, head high, back out the door to the classroom. One foot placed carefully in front of the other.

* * *

She got three steps before Courtney came after her.

“Emily, wait,” she said, placating. They both stood in the rain, letting it mat down their tight t-shirts against gum-made boobs. Courtney’s hair managed to stay perfect, pretty, and blonde, even in the damp mist.

“Here, take some gum,” she said. “You must be dying for it.” She held out a stick.

Emily kept her hands behind her back. “I don’t need any stupid gum. I like being smart. I like having brains. I don’t want to be pretty and suck off guys all day and…”

“Who said anything about sucking off guys?” Courtney said. She leaned in close, just for a moment, and sniffed.

Then she giggled. “I smell cock. And Emily, kitten, you’ve got cum on your nose.”

Emily wiped it off, quickly, and blushed scarlet.

“Who was he?” Courtney asked, eager. “Was it Thomas? No. It must’ve been Brian. I know you’ve liked him. What was it like? Was it hot? How long did it take?”

“Courtney, listen to yourself!” Emily said, close to tears. “All you think about is looking pretty, and fucking guys, and dressing like a slut, and playing with your tits! We were going to be scientists together, remember? We were going to fly to the moon or something!”

“I never really liked any of that stuff,” Courtney said. She touched at her nipples, for emphasis. “I only did it because I was good at it. Emily, come on, look how much fun we’re having! You don’t need big brains, you just need to relax and have fun and paint your nails. Come in with us. You’ll look super pretty when we’re done.”

“I don’t need it,” Emily said. Her body screamed at her lie. “I’m going to be a big, smart scientist, gum or not!”

They both looked at the muddy ground. Courtney’s spike heels were sunken in the dirt.

“Look, I’m sorry I called you a bitch,” Courtney said, her head low. “I guess if you want to be a mathy girl, and do computer things, I’m okay with that.”

“Good! Because that’s what I’m gonna be!” Emily said. “And I’m not sorry I called you a bitch!”

“Fine!” Courtney said, rolling her eyes. Her boobs jiggled up and down, then back and forth. “I’m glad I tried to be nice!”

“Great!” Emily said, and turned away, running, as far and as fast as she could. Where to, she had no idea.

* * *

The rain saw its chance. It pounced, pouring it on. The familiar, summer-long drizzle turned hard and harsh, pounding the single silly female in the mud with long streaks of wet. Emily meandered through the wall of white mist, the cabins barely visible in the distance. Her tits bounced, wrapped in a soaked-through shirt, and her shorts clung to her re-sculpted body.

Her best friend was now a big-boobed slut. And all she wanted to do was just chew gum and join in on the fun.

What WAS so great about math and science stuff, anyways? She could feel it all slipping away, lost behind the fog of gum and arousal. Her head felt crammed with cotton balls, wrapped in a big woolen blanket of simple-minded thinking. Vocabulary going down… complex concepts sinking into an of ocean of placid, girlish thinking…

And the worst thing of all is how happy they all seemed. She could be that happy, too. Just chew gum and stop trying…

Emily looked around. She had to get out of the rain, at least. The way it was pouring, she might drown.

The girl’s shower loomed in the near distance. She made for it. A hot shower would at least warm her up, maybe clear her head of those fuzzy bullets of arousal.

And make her forget about her former best friend.

* * *

The hot shower made everything a lot worse.

Naked, Emily got another good look at her pneumatic body. The gum had struggled to pack her short frame with curves, and overcompensated. From her puffed-up titties to her lithe, tight, rear end, she was a symphony of compact, fuckable girl.

What was worst was her face. She looked stupid. Emily peered in the mirror, trying to figure out exactly what it was that made her seem so dumb. The big new lips, perpetually half-open? The baby-smooth skin? Probably the half-lidded eyes.

She wrapped a big woolen towel around herself, and paddled towards her soaking clothes.

Two pairs of hands grabbed at her arms. Emily gasped, startled.

“Don’t say anything. We’re friends,” a girl voice hissed, into her ear.

The hands released her, and Emily twirled around, lost in her towel. Two girls stood behind her. Two actually normal-looking girls, miracle of miracles. Tara, the tubby one, with big jeans pulled up around a massive waist. And Candice, another stringy girl, with absolutely no boobs whatsoever. They had alert, bright eyes, and cautious, hard expressions.

“Thank god we found you before they got to you,” Candice said.

“What?” Emily said, dumbfounded. The girls looked almost alien without inflated tits and friendly expressions.

“The gum-sluts!” Tara explained. “It’s down to just the three of us, now. Everyone one else is addicted to the stuff. They’re getting tarted up by Courtney right now, so we’re okay.”

They pulled her over to a spare bench, and sat her down.

“We’ve been trying to find the source of the gum,” Candice said.

“What… what did you find?” Emily asked, foggy. All this touching by girls was turning her motor on.

“Not much. But Samantha mentioned a boyfriend, right before she got bimbified.”

That was a funny word, bimbified. Emily giggled, then stopped herself. The other two looked at her oddly.

“…Anyway,” Tara said, “we’re fairly positive that one of the boy tribes is behind this stuff. It’s hard to believe it’s an accidental creation. It’s too perfect at making over women into sex-obsessed wet dreams.”

Tara shuddered. “I came back to the cabin yesterday, and Alicia was on all fours, rubbing herself off with my hairbrush. Then she returned it and apologized for borrowing without asking.”

Candice nodded, sympathetic. “I nearly chewed some,” she said, shaking her head. “It does something to female brains. The smell is just not something that can be resisted. You chew a little, and that’s it. And then you’re just too dumb to fight back.”

But she was at least a little smart, wasn’t she? Emily ran through books in her head. Hamlet? Was that a book or a play?

“Anyway, we were hoping you had a lead on the gum-maker,” Tara said. “Once we track down the source, we can stop them ourselves.”

Gum-maker. Who at the Camp was making the gum? Where did it come from? “Chrissie and Andrea had a lot,” Emily said. She could help!

“They all have a lot. That’s the problem. We need to know where they’re getting it,” Candice said.

She fixed Emily with a suspicious look. “Emily, are you okay?”

“I’m great!” she said, beaming at them. At last, allies. Smart ones, with big brains. They could…

“Emily, let me see your boobs,” Tara commanded, drawing away. Candice did too, fearfully, like she had suddenly become a tiger.

Her boobs? “Uhhhhh. No,” Emily said. “You can’t. They’re mine.”

Tara darted forward, yanked at the towel. Emily yelped, but the entire thing became undone. Her concealing shroud fell apart, landed around her ankles. Tara and Candice took in her big bosom, her achingly perfect body, her shaven snatch with the glowing-pink pussy lips.

“I should’ve known,” Candice said, shaking her head. “You’re one of them. The gum got to you.”

“No! No it didn’t! I quit the gum!”

“No one quits the gum.”

“I did!” Emily insisted, snatching at the towel. And showing her sculpted ass to Candice and Tara.

“Then what’s twelve times twelve?”

That was easy, twelve times twelve was…

Emily’s nose wrinkled. It was…

“I can do this!” she said, wrinkling her nose. Carry the nine… “It’s one forty-something!”

“Forty-something. Right. And what’s the capital of Washington DC?”

She knew this one too, right? Or she had. But her head was packed full of hormones and sex juice and gum need. It was a cabinet locked tight, and she was just a silly girl with sexy tits, beating helplessly at the side of it.

Emily moaned. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry. I chewed the gum. It gave me boobs.”

Candice put a hand on her shoulder, not unkindly. “Keep fighting,” she said, with determined eyes. “We’re closing in on the maker. Then we’ll get the antidote from them, and restore everyone to normal. If not, we’ll just have to make our own.”

But then they backed away from her, carefully, and let themselves out. Emily sat on the floor, legs splayed, and ran through equations in her mind. She just had to hang on. Some of her girls were going to fight back. All she had to do was hang in there, and not get any more stupid.

She could do it.

* * *

Times tables were doable once Emily started slow, and depended on her fingers when it got difficult. The “ones” were easiest, and the “twos” were easy as well once she got into a rhythm of counting upwards. Emily was even proud of herself when she hit the “fives,” counting steadily upwards all the way to one hundred.

And the capital of Washington DC was Seattle. Everyone knew that.

So she COULD fight back. Those brains were still in there, somewhere, just temporarily mislaid underneath a glass floor of boobs.

Encouraged, she made it back to her cabin.

The Courtney side was a mess, her bed strewn with the remnants of a monster shopping trip. The blonde had picked up at least four pairs of shoes, all of them with pointy heels, and some of them boots. A bag of lacy underwear hung on the back of her chair, and her bed had outfits laid out, one after the other. Most were simple sheaths, but made out of all types of fabric—cloud-thin cotton, shiny plastic, and what looked and felt like rubber.

Emily slid into her chair. Her expanded ass even pushed her a little forwards, and her chest made it more then a little difficult to use the keyboard. But she pulled up the Camp Project for Tribe Butterfly, anyways. The campfire was tomorrow, and she had to have the smarts to put something together.

The bimbo-ified girl giggled at their animated turtle, once it popped up on the screen. It looked so silly, with lipstick on its little turtle lips, and tiny legs scrabbling in the air.

How did she make it go, again? Emily checked the “Edit” bar, on the theory that she was editing the project. “Cut,” maybe? Cut and run?

She tried it.

The turtle disappeared.

Emily shrieked, and grabbed the monitor. “Bring my turtle back!” she yelled, panicked. Tapping desperately at the keyboard didn’t do anything except make letters appear on the screen. What had she done?

The door creaked open, and more giggles floated in, from outside.

Courtney swayed in. She was escorted, via pats on the rear, by two boys. Emily recognized them as Donald and Thomas, two of the more athletic and normal-looking boys in the cesspool that was the boy tribes’ genetic stew. Donald had weak blue eyes and a chin that jutted out half an inch beyond his nose. Thomas had worn the same Camp shirt every single day, accumulating stains like merit badges.

They both had wolfish grins.

Emily couldn’t help herself. Her eyes trawled their arms, where there were a few, lonely muscles. Then she examined their pants, for telltale signs of that fun thing hanging between their legs.

“Guys, play on my computer for a second,” Courtney said. “I need to have a talk with my roommate.”

The boys didn’t seem to mind. Especially because Courtney had left the computer, that morning, on a picture of a naked girl getting triple-teamed, for some reason.

Courtney pulled a chair alongside. Emily stared resolutely at the screen, and at her missing turtle.

“What are they doing here?” Emily said.

“Oh, they’re going to tutor me in algebra. I think you might be right about the dumb thing, thinking is getting so tough!”

Emily still didn’t turn around.

“Emily, I’ve got an idea,” Courtney whispered, excited.

“I just want my turtle back.”

”What?” Courtney didn’t understand that, so her tiny brain discarded it. “Look, I know that you want to be a scientist really bad, so I got an idea.”

“What.”

“We can be housewife-scientists!” Courtney said, excited. She had changed her outfit, at some point. Now it was a blue top with a frilly neckline, alternately showing and revealing her bulging boobs. She was far bigger then Emily; her tits seemed determined to outgrow her head. Her little black skirt had been tugged halfway.

“Housewife-scientists,” Emily said, coldly.

“You can have Donald or Thomas, I don’t care. We’ll live next to each other, and cook and clean for the boys, and then like for an hour a day we can research gravity or something like that. It’ll be great!”

Courtney licked at her angel-bow lips, suddenly anxious. “And then we can be friends again,” she said, in a small voice.

Emily tapped something, at random. Her turtle reappeared. She sighed, relieved. “Okay, fine, Courtney,” she said, heart melting just a bit. “We can be housewife-scientists.”

Courtney squealed, delighted. “Yay! Oh, Emily, that’s great!”

And then she leaned in and kissed Emily, right on the lips.

Two thickened pairs of lips met. Courtney’s were hungry and excited, rubbing back and forth along the new nerves outlining Emily’s mouth. Sparks of sugar laced up Emily’s spine, shocked and pleased at the same time. More juice from Courtney’s gum-filled mouth leaked into hers.

Emily realized she was kissing back, turning. Their tits rubbed together, nipples fencing for attention, pushing into acres of tit-flesh. The boys were watching, avidly, which made it just that much hotter.

And then Courtney was pushing and chewing. A big wad of gum, the biggest yet, came along with her tongue and landed right on the center of Emily’s mouth. The sweet spice bounced in her head, like it had never left, whiting out thoughts. She immediately started to chew.

“We’re gonna be the best scientists and housewives,” Courtney said, and returned to the bed, surrounded by two excited boys.

* * *

“Spit out the gum,” Emily told herself. Her body overruled the order, extracting more of the delicious, boob-growing, brain-draining juice, and wallowing in the flavor.

Instead, she sat on the bed and watched Courtney’s algebra lesson.

It was somewhat of a surprise that Courtney seemed to really intend to learn some algebra. Even if it wasn’t going all that well.

“What’s this mean?” the blonde asked, stabbing at a textbook with a rainbow on the cover.

“That’s an “X”” Donald deadpanned. They sat on either side of her. “It’s a variable.”

“What does that mean?”

The boys exchanged looks. “Err, it means anything you want it to mean,” Thomas said. He made the first move, reaching out to land a hand on Courtney’s thighs.

“Wow,” Courtney said. “Anything? So it can mean, like, seven?”

“Or even eight,” Donald assured her. He seated himself a little behind her. Then his hands reached out, on both sides, and grabbed gently at the underside of her tits.

This time Courtney did react. She giggled, and playfully batted him away. “Come on, guys, I need to learn this stuff. I’m not gonna get very far if you’re playing with my titties.”

Thomas was still stroking her thighs, but didn’t seem to invite comment.

“Then why don’t you do it for us?” Donald suggested. “Then we can keep teaching you.”

Courtney seemed okay with that. She grabbed firmly at the heavy undersides of her boobs. She was much more aggressive then Donald, running her hands all up and down the sides.

“What’s the answer to this one?” she said, nodding at the textbook, since her hands were full.

“Why don’t you tell us?” Thomas said. His hands inched closer to the center of her thighs. “If you get it right, you can touch your nipples.”

Courtney considered. Emily could almost see the though process ooze through: “I do like to touch my nipples” it went.

“Is the answer… five?” the blonde hazarded.

“It definitely could be!” Donald said, nodding, approving. Courtney, ecstatic, grabbed hungrily at her nipples, kneading the red tips. She paused, then pulled the blue top over her head, unleashing the full glory of her cream-white tits. Blonde hair trailed along the tops. There was enough cleavage to shade a bush.

Her cheeks grew pink and flushed, and Courtney struggled to pay attention to the algebra book. “Um.. what about…”

“Courtney, lets be more efficient about this,” Donald interrupted. “I can hold your boobs, and Thomas here can stroke your clit. That’s way more mathematic then you doing all the work.”

Courtney cocked her head. Apparently it added up. She let Donald’s rough hands take over for her own, and whimpered, just a little, as his hands raced across her chest. Thomas reached up her skirt, pushing with three fingers at the cheap pair of black panties she wore.

“But then what do I do with MY hands?” she whispered, leaning back.

“Are you right-handed or left-handed?” Thomas asked.

“Right.”

“Then how about you grab my dick with your right hand, and Donald’s dick with your left hand?” he suggested.

Donald looked a little put out. But he settled to the side of her, anyways, all six of their legs pointing off the bed and towards Emily. She watched as the boys energetically undid their pants. Two large erections sprang out at the same time. Courtney wrapped her hands around each, and pulled up and down in a gentle pumping motion.

“Like this?” she said. Both boys nodded. Neither had stopped their own assaults on Courtney’s tits and pussy, and her body responded. Courtney’s breath was fast and hot. It matched Emily’s, laced with gum and seeming to steam in the air.

Emily looked down. At some point her hands had started rapping on the outside of her own slit. She couldn’t seem to think of a good reason to pull them away. She couldn’t seem to think about much of anything.

“You’re doing great,” Thomas said, encouraging. The threesome’s arms and legs were splayed back and forth in a complicated set of moving parts. Arms on top of arms, Donald rubbing on her tits, Thomas on the bottom, while in-between her roommate rubbed up and down on two cocks.

No one had even noticed Emily, sitting on the bed, quivering and shaking and chewing gum.

Her buzzing head, popping with more juice bubbles, realized that this was a race. A race between Thomas and Donald. Whoever came first would be the loser. The winner would get to fuck the willing slut in the middle of the bed.

Donald lost. He was clearly fighting it, face clenched, but the effort of grabbing at Courtney’s fantastic tits, while at the same time fighting back sensation, was too much. White cum bubbled up from his cock, and spurted at least a yard towards Emily. Courtney squealed with delight.

Defeated and knowing it, Donald stood up, and sat heavily on Courtney’s computer chair, trailing threads of cum the whole time.

“Courtney, get up on your hands and knees,” Thomas ordered, suddenly businesslike.

“What for?” Courtney said. Her voice was heavy with sex, and she was chewing hard, extracting every last bit of flavor from the gum.

“It’s a surprise.”

The new Courtney apparently loved surprises. She rose up, on hands and knees, balancing over her outfits on the bed. Gravity pulled at her boobs, pointing her nipples straight down, revealing just how much incredible growth she had acquired.

Thomas pulled her sopping wet underwear out with his own, pussy-damp fingers. He knelt behind her, and took a few moments just to admire the curve of her rear. It was a perfect half-moon, without a trace of flaw, neatly framing a smooth set of pussy lips.

The boy fumbled in his half-down pants, and pulled out his phone. The camera snapped a few shots of Courtney’s exposed pussy.

“What was that?” the blonde said, craning her neck back.

“Err, nothing,” Thomas explained. Then he braced himself on both sides of her hips, and pushed his cock inside of her.

After that, there was very little of Courtney left.

The thing wrapped around Thomas’ dick was a gyrating bundle of nerves, barely able to keep up with a fountain of sensation. She jackhammered in time to Thomas’ thrusts, panting and screaming in turn, forehead and nipples dripping with sweat. She drooled, and didn’t seem to care, eyes glassy and wide.

Emily moaned, too. The girl in front of her used to be her roommate. They had gone to college together, shared stories together, fought through tests together. Now Courtney was just a toy that could talk, and fuck on command.

It was so hot, she came, even without a finger or dick in her cunt.

Then Emily blacked out.

* * *

When she came to, Thomas and Courtney had settled into a more steady rhythm, bucking back and forth like a set of breeding animals. Thomas had leaned forwards to grab hold of her boobs, and Courtney made a series of guttural “unh, unh” noises whenever he pushed forward.

Something was different. Not the gum. She was still chewing that.

Emily looked down. Someone was kneading her tits.

It was Donald, the other boy. He had pulled his underwear back up, although his dick still peeked out between the boxers. He had moved to her bed, at some point, and was feeling her up.

“Wait,” Emily said, hesitant. Yes, it felt good. In fact, it felt great, thrumming her soggy head with more pleasure. But there was something wrong about this…

“You have great tits,” Donald told her.

Emily smiled. Compliments were nice. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, but I need to make sure. Pull your shirt up, uh…”

“Emily,” she said, helpfully.

“Right.”

Emily complied. There was something in her mouth, too. A big wad of gum. It tasted good, like sweet sugar, and spicy, too. Her light brown boobs bounced once she managed to get the shirt over the top of them. Donald’s hands resumed their stroking.

“Why don’t you get on your hands and knees?” he suggested.

Something about that seemed wrong to Emily. Something… was not right…

“No,” she told him, determined.

“Then I’ll have to pull your shorts off with you sitting down,” Donald said, slightly cross.

“Then that’s what you’re going to have to do, smart guy,” she told him, smugly, and giggled.

He rolled his eyes, and let go of her tits. The button on her shorts popped open with the slightest pressure, relieved to stop trying to hold in her oversized rear. Emily lifted her legs up so that Donald could pull them and her sodden panties over her legs.

She couldn’t seem to stop giggling.

The air felt warm against her soggy, well-lubed slit.

Donald moved fast. He was between her legs, with each of her newly-longer legs balanced on the side of his head.

“You can’t grab my boobies like that,” Emily told him, pouting.

“This is better, trust me,” he said. Emily looked down just in time to see him sliding a still-cum smeared dick into the center of her dusky thighs. It met no resistance, and slid to the hilt inside of her pussy, rubbing little hairs against her slit. They tickled.

Emily creamed. He moved up, jerking, and the entire upper wall of her pussy glowed with the sensation. He pushed deep, and touched something that sparkled, up against the end of her very agreeable snatch. She urged him on with her legs.

She could feel something happening, in her brain. The juice of the gum, and the sensations of sex, crystallizing and taking form. Doing something to her, making her compliant and sex-needy and wanting more, much more. Looking for nothing more in life then a daily blowjob, and a ready fuck, and for someone to grab at her titties. Turning off the lights in the centers of her brain marked “math.”

It was really, really hot.

She whispered to him, dirty things. “More, more, more,” she said. Chanting it now. With her hands she rubbed at his chest, and then at hers, marveling at the difference. She was so soft, and he was so hard.

The cabin smelled like sex, and sounded like two panting, leaky girls occasionally cumming.

Emily looked past her lover towards Courtney. Her roommate had made Thomas come. Eager for more, she had her head in Thomas’ lap, licking his cock back to full mast.

“We can be housewife-scientists,” she thought, dazed. And they could lick each other’s pussies, and stroke each others boobies, and on and on. Emily shook through another slow orgasm.

There was something she had to do, while the orgasm momentarily cleared her head. She reached into her mouth, with a juice-slick hand, and pulled out the gum. Then, before she could think about it, Emily tossed it out the window.

Then she reached forwards, and pulled her lover closer.