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Porterville High - Chapter 1.1
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Porterville High
Chapter 1.1
Achilles Brown did, in no way, live up to his name. At
17 years of age, he was a scrawny 5'7 and had a face that
was plain in the extreme. Only his mop of brownish red hair
distinguished him in any way, and that, usually negatively.
As a junior at Porterville High, he had no friends, and was
considered creepy by the general population of the school.
He was not very bright, but neither was he stupid. His one
redeeming quality was that he could not understand why
people were cruel in any way.Perhaps it is untrue that he
had no friends; Jim, the school janitor, seemed to have
taken him under his wing. And his life was not empty, for he
had two great passions: photography and Amy Sanders.
He carried around a camera everywhere, even to school,
and took pictures of everyone and everything. This, of
course, helped to lower his popularity even more, and he
had been beaten up several times, narrowly protecting his
beloved camera from damage.His other passion, Amy
Sanders, was, as Jim was fond on telling him, way out of his
league. She was a junior also, but she was in the "in"
crowd. In fact, she was the most popular girl in the history of
the school, and got to do pretty much whatever she wanted.
She had an unusual beauty: her skin was a translucent
white, with kinky sandy blond hair falling to mid shoulder. A
sharp, thin nose divided her face in two, strangely accenting
piercing blue eyes. Her mouth was small with thin, dull pink
lips, adding a strange attraction to her face. Her body was
slender, and medium sized breasts were accented by a
perfect posture. The rest of her figure was boyish, with a
narrow waist and hips and just barely thin legs. She walked,
head up, shoulders back, like she owned the world, and
maybe she did. Her father was the county sheriff, and her
boyfriend was the quarterback of the football team. She was
getting straight A's in all her classes and her teachers loved
her. She was way, way out of his league.Achilles had, when
he had accumulated enough courage, tried to talk to her a
few times, but received the ice cold shoulder, as well as the
dangerous attention of her boyfriend and his crowd of
super-macho weightlifters. Jim called her alternately the
perfect little white girl and the ice queen, and her crowd the
meathead brigade. It didn't matter: his two passions
remained photography and Amy Sanders, and since he
couldn't have one, he threw himself even more into the
other.It was a saturday evening, around 9:30 pm, and the
moon was full. Achilles had been out with his camera,
experimenting with different speeds of film in the darkness.
He was presently standing in the local seven-eleven sucking
on a Slurpie and watching the video game scroll through the
high scores. Presently he exited, Slurpie in hand, and
turned the corner into the darkness of the building.
Suddenly he heard a car screech to a stop in front of the
store, and turned and peered around the corner of the store,
careful not to be seen.He saw his passion, Amy Sanders,
sitting at the wheel of her boyfriend's truck, looking a little
jumpy as her boyfriend and two of his friends loped easily
into the store. Achilles quickly pulled out his camera--any
picture of Amy was a good picture--and, steadying himself,
began to take pictures of her.Amy, sitting behind the wheel,
was hyped up. The speed, she thought as she waited, the
speed makes you fly. Since she had taken the drug,
everything had a crystal clarity to it, and time seemed
stretched, as if she were squeezing more living into life. It
was the first time she had taken the drug, at the instigation
of her boyfriend, and she wasn't sure she liked it: it made
her nervous and jumpy. Like, what was taking those guys
so long?Achilles started at a loud bang, and cursed under
his breath at the ruined shot he had just clicked off. He put
himself back into his picture taking, and slowly shock
registered in his mind.<Click> <Click> Her boyfriend halfway
to his truck, gun and paper bag in hand, with his two friends
trailing him. <Click> Again.<Click> <Click> The door to his
truck being wrenched open, a look of panic on Amy's face
as she reaches over to help open the door, while his two
friends jump into the back of his truck. <Click><Click>
<Click> <Click> Amy, small white hands gripping the wheel,
driving off at full speed. <Click>Jesus Amy thought, nearly
jumping out of her skin at the sound of the gunshot, what
the hell? Then she was leaning over to open the passenger
door as her boyfriend came scrambling through the door.
Oh my God he has a gun, ran through her mind, and then the
truck was shaking as the three of them piled into the truck
and she was pressing her foot on the accelerator, her hands
clenched around the steering wheel as she sped away from
the scene of the crime.Achilles slowly lowered his camera as
he watched the back of the pickup speed away. He couldn't
believe it, he couldn't. He turned and ran, as fast as he
could, through the empty town of Porterville, only stopping
when he reached his home. He fled into his darkroom and
began immediately to extract his photos, his heart still
pounding from his mad dash and the realization that he had
caught a crime on film.The next day he searched the local
paper for news of the crime, but failed to find anything. He
spent most of that sunday looking at the pictures he had
taken, staring for long periods of time at Amy's strained,
beautiful face.Monday morning at school he heard all about
it: guy at 7-11 shot... robbery... got away with $200... dead...
police don't know... He went through most of the day in a
daze. They had killed the clerk! What should he do? He
would have gone directly to the police, but it was _AMY_,
Amy was involved. Whenever he saw her he stared intensely
in her direction, trying to see what was happening in her
mind.Amy had panicked all day Sunday. She had gotten in a
big fight with her boyfriend and dumped him: he was dead
weight now. He had pleaded with her, threatened her,
begged her not to tell what had happened, as if she would. If
her father found out she was even present he would kill her.
At the very least he would make sure she went to jail; he
would show no mercy. That she was his daughter would
only make it harder on her. No, she couldn't tell anyone, but
she didn't want that loser hanging around her anymore; she
didn't want to associate with criminals.Her first day back at
school was torture for her, but, she felt sure, no one could
tell. She kept thinking that everyone knew who had killed
that clerk, and who had driven that car. It was silly, she
knew, but she couldn't shake it, and read insinuations into
every conversation anyone had with her. What unnerved
her most, though, was when she had caught that creepy
Achilles staring at her; if anyone was to find out about what
happened last saturday, it was him, always sneaking around
taking pictures of everyone. She shuddered at the thought
he might know, but he couldn't. No one had been
there.When Jim heard about the shooting, he was surprised,
but didn't think too much about it: he was too busy with his
own plans. He had mailed a copy of the tapes to Ms.
Ellsworth's home, mansion is more like it he thought, with a
letter stating she was to leave her front door unlocked on
this coming Wednesday at 9:00. He smiled as he thought
about the reaming he was going to give that bitch. His mind
wandered in pleasant fantasy for a while when he started
thinking about Achilles. A nice kid, Achilles, but stuck on
that uppity bitch Amy Sanders. A little idea came into his
mind: Achilles needed something to take his mind off that
little cunt, and a cunt like Sara Ellsworth would certainly do
the trick. He smiled to himself.Achilles went through that
monday in an agony of indecision: should he or shouldn't
turn them in? He still hadn't made up his mind by the time
the last school bell rang, and he was surprised when Jim
approached and asked him to meet him down in his
unofficial office, the boiler room, in a few minutes.The boiler
room was situated in the bowls of the school, and only Jim
had the keys. It was a private, spacious room of concrete
and pipes, kept warm by the excess heat from the boilers.
When Achilles arrived, he was surprised to see a television
and vcr set up on a wheeled cart against one of the
walls."Come 'ere and sit down," Jim said, motioning him to a
seat in front of the tv. "I've got a little something to show
you." With that he hit the play button on the vcr and sat
down."What are you up to here, Jim," Achilles wondered
aloud."Just wait, and you'll find out."The screen flickered
and moving pictures appeared, without sound. It was
obviously an overhead view, and Achilles had trouble
making out who was in the room. There were three guys he
didn't know, and he watched in growing amazement as Ms.
Ellsworth followed Maria into this dingy little room. He
turned to Jim with wondering eyes, blurting "What the?!"
when he saw Maria turn around and stagger backward as
Ms. Ellsworth slugged her in the gut."Just watch, Achilles,"
Jim nodded toward the tv, "it gets better.""Jesus," Achilles
whispered under his breath as he saw Maria forced down on
her knees by two of the boys. He watched in growing horror
and fascination as they held her down and stripped her. He
didn't know Maria personally, and, although thought she
was somewhat attractive, she was nothing compared to
Amy. Nevertheless, he found himself becoming aroused as
he watched the teacher reach between Maria's legs and
begin playing with her pussy. He couldn't take his eyes off
Maria's body, her large tits, her smooth olive skin, her firm
legs stretched apart, her whole body struggling against her
captors. It was quite a sight, and he was disgusted and
turned on by it. Revulsion and excitement strove within him
as he watched one of the boys climb on top of her and begin
humping furiously. He was torn between wanting to take his
place and the agony and humiliation clearly etched on
Maria's face. His eyes were glued to the set through Maria's
triple rape, and then Jim hit stop."Jesus Jim, what's all this
about? And where'd you get it?""Where I got it isn't
important. What I plan to do with it is." He smiled, flashing
large ivory teeth in a black face. "You see, my friend, Ms.
Ellsworth will do anything, and I mean anything, to keep this
tape here out of the cops's hands. You get it?Achilles got it
all right. Ms. Ellsworth, she was hot hot hot, and now she
was going to be doing whatever Jim wanted her to do. He
didn't have to think about what Jim would want, not with a
hot piece of tail like Ms. Ellsworth. And Jim was obviously
letting him on a piece, literally, of the action. His dick grew
hard just at the thought. Then another thought intruded: he
had pictures! Pictures of Amy Sanders as an accomplice to
a crime! If he played his cards right, he could have her. She
would do whatever he wanted. His mind boggled--Amy,
beautiful, unreachable Amy, was suddenly very
reachable.Jim watched Achilles' face closely, noticing first
the surprise, then the realization of what this could mean to
him, and then something else, like wonder or expectation
mixed."So you want in kid?"
"When," Achilles stuttered.
"Well, I've set up a meet at the cunt's house this
Wednesday at 9. I figure we present our demands then."
Jim put an obscene slur into the word "demands"."Jim, Jim,
that's great, b..b..but I've got something important to do
Wednesday... "Suddenly Jim grabbed him by the shirt, "You
aren't going to tell anyone about this, are you?" he
growled."N..No Jim. I've just got things to do." He looked, a
little frightened, into Jim's eyes, "But the next time you meet
her, I do want to be there. I want to fuck her, Jim, I really do.
Maybe I can tell you about this later, if it works out. Okay
Jim."Jim let him go, "Sure kid, I'll get in touch." he looked
over at Achilles, "you're a virgin, ain'tcha?" Achilles
nodded, turning red.
Jim laughed, "Well, don't worry, she may be a
man-eater, but Jim'll be there to watch over you. See ya
later."Strange kid, he thought, giving up a piece of ass like
Sara Ellsworth, even for just one night... He hoped he
hadn't made a mistake. He shrugged to himself and put it
out of his mind; Wednesday was just two days
away.Walking home, Achilles thought about his luck. Jim
had literally handed him the hot Ms. Ellsworth, and he
himself was going to get Amy Sanders, his passion. Once
home, he went immediately to his darkroom and whipped up
several more sets of the pictures of the robbery and murder.
Putting one set in an envelope, he waited, running his hand
up and down his penis as he thought about Amy under his
thumb, Amy doing whatever he asked her too; and Ms.
Ellsworth, he couldn't forget about her, with her brown hair
and sexy body, he wondered how it would be with an older
woman.That night he scrawled Amy across the front of the
envelope and took it over to her house. He knew her house
like the back of his hand, having watched it, photographed
it, and dreamed of it and the beauty it held for years. On the
side of Amy's room, outside her window on the second
story, an old oak tree grew, spreading its branches right
against the window. It was a safe area, so Amy thought
nothing of leaving her window open. In the past Achilles
had blessed that oak tree, as he sat on its branches late at
night and watched her sleeping form through her window.
Tonight he climbed the tree with a purpose, and stole quietly
into her room, stopping only a moment to gaze longingly at
Amy as she slept peacefully in her bed. He placed the
envelope on her dresser and exited the way he came,
excitement and expectation overwhelming racing through
his blood.Tuesday morning Amy awoke, her mind settled
over that horrible 7-11 business. She had dumped her
boyfriend, had told him off, and found out that the police had
no idea who did it. Still lying in bed, she stretched her lithe
young body, giving a start as she saw a plain white
envelope sitting on her dresser. That hadn't been there last
night. Maybe her mother or father put it there when she was
still sleeping; but that couldn't be it, since she locked her
door every night. With growing trepidation she stepped out
of bed, her firm breasts pushing out her sleeping tee, which
fell down around her upper thighs, revealing the smooth
creamy skin of her thighs and her calves, her muscles
sliding silkily under her skin as she walked to her dresser.
Her name was a childish scrawl on the front of the envelope,
and with a grown sense of foreboding she opened the
envelope.She looked inside and pulled out the set of pictures
which were the envelope's only contents. Fear and panic
gripped her as she looked at the photos--they were pictures
of the robbery. She staggered back to her bed and sat down
heavily, her mind numb. She was caught; she was going to
jail. It was awful; she hadn't known what they were going to
do. Steeped in her misery she sat there for she didn't know
how long, and then she began to think. The person who
had given her these photos had given them to her for a
reason: they weren't going to give her to the police, she
hoped. It was blackmail, she was sure of it, and she thought
she knew who was responsible: that sneaky little bastard
Achilles. She grew angry: how dare he try to blackmail her,
that puny shithead. She would tear him apart, that son of a
bitch. Revenge fantasies running through her mind, she
slowly came to realize that she couldn't do anything; she
was helpless. If she tried anything, he would simply hand
the photos over to the police, and then she would really be
in trouble. No sympathy, no mercy is what she would
get.Mechanically she began to dress. If it was really Achilles,
she wondered what he would want. She knew he liked her,
and boys were such idiots when it came to that. Maybe she
could convince him to give her the photos if she was nice to
him--if only he weren't such a toad. She went to school
more unhappy than she had been in a long time.Achilles was
ecstatic, although he strove hard to hide it, and pointedly
avoided Amy all day, even though he saw her looking toward
him occasionally. Today, he thought, Tuesday afternoon, he
would take the first step toward possessing, toward owning,
Amy Sanders.He ditched his last class and made it home in
record time. He dropped off his stuff and picked up an
enlarged photo of the robbery, which he rolled up and put
under one arm. He then walked eagerly over to Amy's
house and climbed up the dependable old oak, climbing
stealthily in through the window and sitting down behind the
half-closed door.Amy came straight home after school. She
had been wondering when the boom was going to fall all
day, and was racked with worry. She relaxed a little as she
walked into her room and threw her bookbag onto her bed.
She spun around when she heard the door close behind her,
and let out a startled cry at the sight of another person in her
room."Wha... ?" she let out before realizing who it was.
Achilles, and he was holding an enlarged photo of the
robbery, showing her reaching across the truck to open the
passenger door while her boyfriend, holding a pistol, was
running toward the truck. She narrowed her eyes and
compressed her lips, "What do you _want_?" she
hissed.Achilles put his finger to his lips for quiet as he locked
her door and walked over to her stereo and turned it on to a
comfortable listening level, keeping an eye on Amy where
she stood, shaking in frustrated rage and fear. Finished, he
turned, thoroughly enjoying himself, and sat down in a chair,
adjusting his camera so it was hanging against his
chest."What I want, Amy," he said, "is... manifold.""You're a
little son of a bitch," she said with feeling, glaring at
him."Now now Amy, you really don't want to upset me." He
waited to see if this got any reaction, but when all it got was
a more vigorous compression of her lips, he continued.
"You realize that you are in a difficult position, yes?"She
nodded, still glaring.
"So you accept that you will have to accede to certain...
demands I may make upon your person?" he said, tilting his
head slightly to one side.She nodded again, wanting to rip
his heart out, yet knowing that she was helpless to do
anything."Okay, then, let's get started," he said, standing up,
"give me fifty dollars."Amy started. Fifty dollars? Was that
all he wanted? She could afford fifty dollars every couple of
days. She hoped that was all he wanted. Still shaking, she
went over to her dresser and removed $50 from the top
drawer and handed it to him, glaring at him in hatred as he
slowly counted it out and put it in his pocket, the big grin on
his face infuriating her further."Now... " he continued...
Now! she thought. Now! Oh God. This was horrible.
Her stomach gave a wrench as she listened to him
silently."Now I'm going to set certain rules for you to follow.
Don't worry, they won't be difficult at all. Just do what I ask
and I won't hand over the photos to the police."Rules. She
closed her eyes and swayed on her feet, then sat down on
the edge of the bed. It was getting worse. Maybe she should
tell her father about everything, then she would be free of
this. But she was afraid, afraid of her father, afraid of jail.
She would see what he wanted and then decide. She
listened to him as he continued."First, no pants. I don't want
to see you wearing pants or shorts to school. Only skirts
and dresses. Got it?" He watched her until she nodded
resignedly. "Second, I want you to leave your bedroom
window unlocked at all times. Okay?" She nodded again.
"That's it for the rules for now."She looked up hopefully.
Was that all? What was he doing now, looking in her
closet? "Wha... what are you doing?" she stammered
out."Looking for something appropriate," he
replied."Appropriate?""Ah, here we go," he said, pulling out
a black sleeveless mini-dress with a scoop neckline, "put
this on.""What? Why?" she blurted out, confused and
terrified of what he might ask her to do."Come on," he
urged, a bit of anger coming into his voice, "I want some
pictures of you. Why the hell do you think I brought my
camera? Oh, and don't worry, I won't peek while you're
changing."Handing the dress to the stunned girl, he turned
around and faced the door, not giving her time to argue. He
knew he was going to have to take things slowly and
carefully with her: she was like a 10 lb. fish on a 4 lb.
line--she was hooked, but if you didn't give her room to run,
room to wear down her resistance, then she would get
away. He knew that if he pushed her too far too fast, she
would turn herself, and him, in; he didn't want that, he
wanted her, and figured if he took things slowly enough, he
could have her, body and soul.Amy stared stupidly at the
dress he had given her, shocked. Of course he wanted
pictures, her mind told her, he was one of those freakiod
perverts. She didn't want to do it, but she liked the
alternative worse, so she quickly stripped down to her
underwear and put on the dress, smoothing it down so it
reached just above mid-thigh and adjusting the shoulders
so that her cleavage was not too obvious, since she had to
remove her bra--it just wouldn't go with this dress. When
she finished, she muttered, "Okay, I'm done."Achilles turned
around and let out a long sigh at the sight of her: the dress
was form fitting, the black a beautiful contrast against her
translucent white skin. It hugged the gentle curves of her
body, the top of her breasts two creamy white mounds
above the neckline, her thin waist and flat stomach giving
way to slightly wider hips. Her thighs and legs were twin
pillars of shapely ivory against the black of her dress.
Beautiful, he thought, and took a picture of her standing
there awkwardly, flushed with embarrassment.Standing
there barefooted, wearing a skimpy dress in front of this
pervert, Amy blushed furiously. She saw the lust in his eyes
before he covered them with his camera and took a picture.
She wondered what he wanted now."Okay," he said, "time
for some poses."
Poses? she groaned inwardly, but decided not to
argue. So far it wasn't too bad, although she felt humiliated.
She began following his orders as he snapped out a string
of directions, moving around and taking pictures the whole
time."Okay, hands together over your head... stretch... arch
your back... up on your toes... good... good... now bend at
the waist... keep your back arched!... head up... look at me...
lick your lips... good... legs apart now... stay bent over...
good... now stand up straight, legs together... hands behind
your head... bend your legs at the knees... now twist your
body and push out your chest... good... good... pout... good...
now kneel down... rest on your calves... that's right... legs
apart... further... good... hands behind your back... good...
arch your back... head up... pout... wet your lips... good...
"Posing, the camera trained exclusively on her, Amy began
to think that it wasn't so bad. In fact, she thought, it might be
fun, like being a model, and a little bit exciting, if it were
someone else behind the camera, someone besides that
worm Achilles. She sighed to herself and tried to imagine it:
Luke Perry, or maybe her math teacher--he was hot."Now
pull up that chair... sit on the edge... cross your legs... good...
throw your hair back... toss your head... sit up straight!...
good... now scoot back on the chair and spread your legs to
either side of it... grip the front end with your hands... show
off the cleavage... look at the camera!... good... turn the chair
around... straddle it... good... rest your arms on the back... tilt
your head to one side... pout... good... now on your hands
and knees... arch your back and toss your head back...
good... now head down... hang it down... keep that back
straight... good... good. Okay, good, that's enough for now.
I've used up three roles of film."Amy quickly stood up and
watched as Achilles put his camera down and smiled at her.
"Now remember," he said, "follow the rules and you'll do
okay. See you later." With that, he climbed out the window,
down the tree, and headed home, leaving Amy emotionally
exhausted, and a little flushed from the exertion of
posing--as well as a little excited--not knowing what to do.
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