Date: Tue, 10 May 2005 15:12:34 +0000
From: Rachel Stevenson <rachelfrizz@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Rachel's Story. Part 1

This is not a work of pure fiction; it's not a verbatim record of events,
either. Rather it's a recovered and organized memory with partly imagined
details. What I mean is - the events happened; to me and to my friends; but
I have had to reinvent the dialogue. The emotions have stayed with me and I
have not had to remember, invent or reconstruct a single one. However, all
the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional. No
resemblance to real people of events is intended. So there; if you think you
recognize yourself or the events, you can't sue me!

The first time I saw Nicki I just knew she was the most beautiful thing in
the world. She was in the school year below me, blonde and blue-eyed with
the sweetest little features you could ever imagine. Coming across her for
the first time sent me into a tail-spin of confused thoughts and emotions
from which it would take over a year to recover and fully five years to come
to terms with.
It was a Wednesday in January and we were at secondary school - a minor
private school in England. My friend Jools and I breezed in to the changing
rooms to get ready for hockey practice at the end of the school day. Being
January, it was already growing dim and we wanted to get just a little time
in the practice goal before the light failed completely. Jools flung open
the changing room door and threw her sports bag into the corner already
pulling off her tie and kicking off her shoes. I followed  and skidded my
bag along the floor towards a bench near where Jools was struggling out of
her clothes. My bag ran straight into the hockey-booted foot of Nicki. She
sat with her right foot on the floor, her left lifted onto the bench beside
her as she struggled to unpick the mud-caked knot of laces. She tilted her
head to look up at me, and I looked down at that perfectly angelic face with
such clear cream-coloured skin, delicate little nose and blue eyes so wide
and deep you could drown on them. Her blond hair framed her face perfectly
as she looked up at me, and I looked down beyond her face now to her hockey
boot, navy blue socks silky, hairless thighs and navy hockey shorts which
were ridden up at the crotch and just slightly betrayed her white knickers
beneath. I just stared.
"Can't undo the laces."
With just a little bit of desperation in her voice, this innocent beauty
scrambled my emotions and convictions. I wanted to comfort her, mother her
and love her all at the same time. I did not understand my own feelings; how
on earth could this scrap of a girl slay me so effortlessly. I was female
too; I should feel vague sisterly emotions towards her but not this. I
muttered some platitudinous remark and sat next to her on the low bench,
turning to her to attack the knotted shoelaces. I looked up her leg, beyond
her knee, up her thigh towards the point where the tiny white stripe of
knickers was visible inside her shorts, and I wanted to see more. My fingers
trembled, but I managed to subvert my confusion into unscrambling the knot.
I pulled the sodden laces out of the hopeless knot and pulled off her boot.
"Thanks!" Shouted Nicki. "You're lovely. I owe yer." And she leapt up to
peel off her shorts and hockey shirt and change into school uniform again. I
was still transfixed by her; she 'owed' me: I didn't quite know what I
wanted in return..
"Get on with it! It'll be dark soon." Yelled Jools and my attention was
snapped back to the reality of goal practice. Away from the vision of this
lithe angel in modest white scalloped bra and high waistband knickers
sorting out skirt and blouse in front of me. I got changed absently and
Jools and I trotted out into the gloom.
Nicki had joined the school at the beginning of the January term., coming
from a state school in the west as her parents moved into this locality. I
had not noticed her in the school until that afternoon, but afterwards I
could not help but see her everywhere.
Not that I was the only one. As the winter/Spring term progressed Nicki
became increasingly noticeable in the company of JJ. Like me. JJ was in the
year above Nicki, but unlike me, JJ had achieved a school-wide presence and
notoriety. She was not particularly physically mature, but she carried
herself like a femme fatale film star. I remember her hair had been mousy
brown like mine in the first year, but now it was chestnut auburn and
*shiny*. No minutiae of drama was lost to her, the mascara, the eye-liner,
the completely outrageous long-gloves and the waspishly vicious wit. With
just a few words I had seen her flay the self-confidence from other girls
years older than herself. Even prefects weren't immune from her barbs and
there was a half-rumour that she had reduced one of the teaching nuns to
tears when JJ was in her first year. She was wonderful to observe, but
dangerous to know. We all observed darkly that JJ seemed to charm certain
kinds of girl. I think we were all in awe of her self knowledge, her
academic brilliance and utter superiority. It certainly seemed that Nicki
became part of her coterie of acolytes soon after her first half term in the
school and I think I was a little jealous. I worshipped Nicki from afar, not
just in deference to JJ, but because I still did not know or understand what
I was worshipping or how to deal with my adoration.
I had tried a few dates with boys - school dances with silly clinches on the
dance floor to the last soppy record. But these had done nothing for me
although I pretended to be enthralled by the boys with my peers as giggling
in the toilets, as we compared notes and experiences. Neither had I
experienced a girl. Apart from brushing past in the changing room or
glancing across in the showers, I had no prior experience in my formative
years at all. I hadn't even broached the subject of sexual experience with
my best friend Hillie. Periods, yes. The delightful anguish of having to
wear a bra, yes. But not sex.
Hillie and I had been friends from our first day at St XX. Gawky
eleven-year-olds with satchels and silly school hats. We sat together
because our surnames appeared adjacent on the register, and we were almost
inseparable. Now at fourteen we were confident and assured - at least we
thought we were. Sometimes we would admit our fears to ourselves and imply
them to each other in confidence and whispers.
One holiday, Hillie stayed with me in my house for several nights and
although we slept in separate rooms we shared those delicious intimate
moments between changing for bed and sleeping, exchanging confidences and
shrieking with laughter cross-legged on my bed. Hillie led and I followed.
Talking, describing, imagining and finding out. Looking back I am sure that
Hillie must have  noticed the darkening damp on the front of my knickers as
I sat cross-legged opposite her. I think that as Hillie became aware of my
sexual confusion as I became aware of it too. Did I prefer boys or girls? It
didn't surprise or outrage her. That was the way I was, Hillie didn't judge
me and I loved her for it.
Hillie had a boyfriend - of sorts. I thought he was an arrogant, selfish,
self-centred pig who enjoyed nothing more than cutting Hillie down in front
of everyone. Not that I was biased you understand, but he just seemed
absolutely typical of the entire sex. But Vernon, (Yes, that was his name,
Vernon Woodlock) provided me with an archetype on which I could hang half
the human race, including my father who had left Mum and me the summer
before. Hillie thought Vernon was a git sometimes as well, but she sort of
put up with him because her parents were friendly with Vernon's parents.
Sometimes I wasn't totally sure of Hillie's preferences, just as I wasn't
always sure of my own. Just occasionally, she would surprise me with a word
or gesture that would make me question her orientation, and I think that
Vernon gave her something of a disguise or shield to hide behind while she
tried to decide. She was still innocent as I was, of the delights of the
flesh, and of girls in particular, or so I thought.
But when I saw her sitting on the summer grass with JJ and Nicki, I knew
there would be trouble.
It was late June. The winter term had given way to glorious Easter hols and
the beautiful summer term, marred only by exams. We swopped into summer
uniforms of pastel coloured shirt-dresses and white socks - even for the
seventeen year olds. But we were still fourteen and fifteen and Nicki was
still thirteen. And I was celebrating with hayfever, as usual.
It was the district sports day and the grass seed was playing merry hell
with my hayfever. The day when three other public schools for girls sent
their best athletes and their supporters to St XX to compete for the
Saviour's Cup, to be held by the victors in glory until the next year. The
entire school was on the grass, sitting on both sides of the running track
marked out on the grass. I was 'running' results for the afternoon. Taking
the marked sheets of who finished where back from the finishing line to the
starter's tent at the opposite end of the 100 yards. Why they hadn't put the
tent at the finishing line instead I could not understand, but never mind.
I ran the race results back to the tent, and slowly ambled back towards the
finish line, passing JJ, Nicki and Hillie as I did so. Hillie was giggling
hugely as I passed with a look of embaressed outrage on her face. JJ was
smiling like a cat and Nicki was grinning her head off. Hillie stood as I
approached and clapped her hands to her face stifling a shriek.
"They want me to take my knickers off out here!"
"We're playing dare." Hissed Nicki, "And she lost, so she's got to do it! I
had to show my boob."
JJ just smiled, and I knew whose idea it was. Over the tanoy, a voice
announced the semi-final of the 200 yards and I knew I had to get back to
the finish line in time for the result. This would be St XX's biggest chance
as our girl, Della Harlow represented the county and all eyes would be on
her. "Hillie, be careful'. I said pathetically. But she was too excited and
enthralled by the utter naughtiness of it to heed or care. I walked on
towards the finish line, looking back I saw everyone beside the track
turning to watch the start of the race on the far side. Except those three.
Hillie was sitting on the grass with her legs tucked under, she moved onto
one buttock and hooked her thumb up the side of her pale blue shirt dress.
She shifted and pulled at the same time, swapping onto the other buttock and
pulling her knickers down to just above her skirt line as she did so. Nicki
was watching enthralled and excited. JJ watched from the corner of her eye
and everyone else was watching the race. But not quite everyone. As I turned
back towards the finish line my eyes caught one more head turned in the
direction of Hillie. Roberta Sanderson, a Prefect, was staring across the
track at Hillie as she discretely slipped her underwear over her socks and
shoes and into her pocket. I wanted to shout or scream, but the awful moment
had already happened. I felt physically sick as the realization that
everything had gone wrong hit me. Hillie was in trouble and I couldn't help.
Now the runners were into the home straight and the crowds of girls on each
side shrieked and screamed as the athletes flew past. Every eye followed
them down the track apart from Roberta Sanderson's. She marched across the
track straight to Hillie, who didn't even notice her approach until
Sanderson stood foursquare in front of her. I saw Hillie's head jerk back,
staring up at Sanderson. Behind her Nicki shrank onto the grass and JJ sat
still, cowed and defeated.
Someone pulled my elbow and I turned to collect the result sheets from the
judges. By the time I had them all and was able to start towards the
Starter's tent, Sanderson was marching all three up the grassy rise towards
the school buildings. "Oh, Hillie" I gasped.
The afternoon ground on as I kept scanning the field and school for signs of
Hillie, of any of the three. But none appeared. As always the relay was the
last event and I flew the result back to Starter's tent and just continued
running back towards the school. Running with me where groups of happy and
excited girls, oblivious to the awful drama that had unfolded.
I found Hillie in the loos on the top floor. The stall was locked but I
heard her sobbing.
"Hillie, let me in. It's Rachel."
"Go away" she sobbed, but I persisted desperate to comfort her.
"Hillie darling, let me help. Let me in"
I heard her move in the stall and slowly she drew back the bolt. I pushed
the door gently and saw her tear-streaked face before me. She looked down,
closing her swollen eyes. I wanted to hold her forever, kissing it all
better. Gently I pushed my way in and locked the cubicle door. Hillie stood
with her summer uniform dress hoisted up around her waist. "What happened
with Sanderson?" I asked. She didn't reply, but turned away from me bending
slightly to show me her bottom. I gasped. Her pretty white cheeks were
crossed my multiple wheals, red and raw. Lower down, the skin had actually
broken and short bloody trails flowed from one wound to another.
"She hit me with a ruler." I was dumbstruck
"She wouldn't stop."
"Did you cry?" I asked. Hillie nodded
"Did she stop then?" She shook her head.
"She just got worse. The only reason she stopped is because Miss Buckingham
heard me screaming".
That was it. I knew things could only get worse. Now the teachers knew.
"We have to get you home."
"But I can't go home like this"
"I'll help you clean up."
"But Sanderson has got my knickers. The marks and blood will show through my
dress."
Our summer uniform dresses were pathetically thin. I remember being able to
read the bra label of a girl sitting in from of me straight through her
summer uniform. I refused point blank to ever wear them after that.
Hillie had turned to me imploringly and in the space of a second I knew what
I had to do. I hoiked up my winter weight skirt and pulled down my pants.
"Put these on. No wait. I'll get something to wash you with"
I handed her my underwear and ran back to our form room, grabbed our bags.
JJ and Nicki were nowhere to be seen, and dashed back up to the toilets.
With dampened face tissues, I patted away the blood from her bottom as
gently as I could. Now I turned Hillie towards me and knelt before her.
"Let's get the knickers on"
I held the knickers open and stared for the first time ever into her crotch.
Pretty curls of dark hair decorated each side of her sex. Each side folded
inwards perfectly obscuring her labia and clitoris completely. She was high,
closed and private- exactly the opposite to me. Steadying herself with a
hand on my shoulder, Hillie stepped into my knickers and gingerly we hoisted
them up and over her flayed botty.
St XX was not a boarding school. Most of the girls lived a few miles away
and journeyed on bus or bike to and from, although an increasing number were
delivered my parents in cars.
I lived just a few hundred yards away, in the opposite direction to the bus
stop and town, so we were soon walking alone up the leafy road towards my
house. My mother worked in the town and the arrangement was that I would
telephone her at her office as soon as I arrived home at half past three
every day. Mother would leave work at six and pick up my younger brother
from the child minder on her way home. So for two hours forty five minutes,
Hillie and I had the house to ourselves.
I phoned my mum and then insisted Hillie did the same, telling her she was
with me and would be home later.
"Now upstairs into my bedroom"
Hillie climbed the stairs gingerly and went into my room. I had a
shower-room running off my bedroom - a rare luxury in those days, and
excellent in this situation. I grabbed a towel and spread it over the top of
the candlewick bedspread.
"Lay down, Hillie. With your dress up"
Hillie lifted her dress and carefully lay face down on the bed. The pale
blue school uniform contrasted nicely with her lightly tanned back and legs,
made to look even darker by the white of her, or rather, my knickers.
As carefully as I could, I lifted the waistband and material away from her
bottom, and began to pull the knickers down. Hillie whimpered a bit,
particularly where the leg elastic had cut into one of the lower wheals on
her buttock. Slowly and gently the knickers were down and off. I just looked
at her lying there. Long straight and strong legs, perfectly shaped calves
and ankles. Tanned thighs leading up to the very nexus of perfection; a
discreet darkness between her lean white buttocks now disfigured by the
marks of punishment. I felt more than a twinge of desire looking at my
friend's supine beauty, but my task was to help her and hide the evidence of
her humiliation. I touched her bare bottom as gently as I could. Hillie
flinched and squeezed her buttocks together. She was fit and young and her
bottom still had the slightly scalloped sides to the buttocks that
adolescent girls' have. She was beautiful.
I got up and hurried about getting ointments and unguents to help soothe the
pain.
A little Vaseline for the broken skin, some after-sun cream for the lesser
welts, and while Hillie held her breath, I gently applied it lovingly with
my fingers roaming over her bottom. In the delicate creases between thigh
buttock and thigh I ran my fingers. In the most delightful fold between
buttocks, I ran my fingers just shallowly but loved the feeling as Hillie's
buttocks tightened and gripped.
The small amount of bleeding had long stopped, but there was dried blood on
the knickers, so I rummaged around in my drawer to find the largest, softest
and most comfortable pair I had. Luckily, they were pale blue too, so they
wouldn't contrast beneath Hillie's school dress.
I knelt at the foot of the bed.
"Can you get up now, please Hillie"
Wordlessly Hillie raised her bottom up, pulling her knees slightly beneath
her and treated me to the most erotic sight I had ever seen. Her bottom was
in the air, thighs together, but displaying the faintest patch of dark brown
fuzz around the pussy lips between her legs. Holding this pose for a second,
she then opened her thighs and extended her left leg off the edge of the
bed. Now I could see the whole of her sex below her buttocks and between her
legs. The tight curls of hair petered out into wisps towards the bottom of
her sex, and from this angle, where her pubis tucked underneath to the
entrance of her vagina and perineum, there was no hair at all. Further yet,
I glimpsed her tight closed anus as she slowly left the bed and stood up.
I shivered involuntarily. What was I doing? Hillie needed my help, and I was
looking - lusting - at her in her pain. She saw me shiver.
"Does it look that bad?"
"No. I was just thinking of Sanderson and what I'd like to do to her."
Hillie nodded, and I helped her into the fresh blue knickers. With the dress
down again, she looked better and went into my shower-room to splash water
on her face and tidy her hair. I put the Vaseline and stuff away. Coming
back into my bedroom, I picked up the blood marked white knickers off the
floor with the intention of soaking them in cold water. But I stopped short,
hesitating. Then taking advantage of Hillie still being in the showeroom, I
stuffed them out of sight under my pillow.
We had tea and a snack downstairs before I walked Hillie down the lane to
the bus stop to take her home. I was wheeling my bike down as she walked
stiffly, but becoming easier. It was quarter to five, and all the other
girls had dissipated so we waited alone for the bus to arrive.
"What happened to JJ and Nicki?"
"Don't know. Sanderson sent them to wait outside the Prefects Study while
she dealt with me"
"Where did she do it? You know, the smacking?"
"In the book store on the fist floor. She made me hold on to the shelf while
she pulled up my dress. I thought she wasn't going to hit me, because she
just stood there behind me for ages holding my hips. But then she did start
hitting me and didn't stop." Hillie bit her lip and turned her face away.
She was almost crying again.
"Hillie darling don't"
And I put my arm around her shoulders and hugged her to me. Suddenly we
realized the bus was arriving, and I unhooked Hillie's bag from the
handlebars of my bike and passed it to her. She looked deep into my eyes.
"Thanks for everything."
She pulled me close and kissed me on the cheek, for several seconds.
Then she was gone. Onto the bus and away.


This being a Friday in the summer term, I had no homework to do - just
revision for the impending exams. So I rode my bike up passed my house onto
the open downland, thinking about JJ, Nicki and Hillie and what on earth
would happen with Buckingham on Monday. I rode for a while just enjoying the
early evening air and with every pedal stroke I thought less about the
awfulness of the afternoon and more about the wonderfulness of life and the
English summer.
Back home again, I parked my bike in the garage, let myself in and went
upstairs unbuttoning my blouse as I went. I walked into my bedroom and undid
the waist belt of my skirt, I shucked the blouse off my shoulders and onto
the floor, and wiggled to make my skirt follow. Then I remembered I wasn't
wearing any knickers.
I just stood there in my sensible school bra and white socks in front of my
mirror, analyzing what I saw before me. I unclipped my bra and dropped it to
the floor. About 5'2", skinny and scrawny. Pale skin with a few freckles on
my face and chest, mousey brown shoulder length hair that wouldn't go
straight and wouldn't curl. Little boobs with bright pink nipples that
always made me think of mole's noses and a red line underneath where my bra
was too tight, flat tummy and a concentrated frizz of light brown hair
between my thighs. I stepped closer to the mirror and looked at my crotch
again. I tried to compare my anatomy to what I saw of Hillie's in those few
seconds of heaven as she rose from my bed. Hillie's lips hid everything, but
between my thick, mousy pubic hair, there was a pinkness to the lips of my
sex and my labia minora protruded from the slit like a piece of pink
gristle. At the top, I could see my hood and the very tip of my clitoris. I
spread my legs, squatted slightly and gently opened myself with two fingers
of my right hand. And there was my clitoris, bright pink and protruding.
Even when I removed my fingers, it was still there peeping out of my labia
majora. I was open, visible and lewd; nothing like the secret, protected sex
that Hillie showed me. Suddenly I remembered the knickers that I had lent to
Hillie, and I pulled them out from under my pillow. Little flecks of blood
defiled the back where they had pressed against her bottom. I lifted the
knickers to my nose, and I could smell Hillie. Beautiful and delicious and
utterly vulnerable, I could almost taste Hillie.
I knew what I was doing. I was lusting after my best friend in an
unimaginable way. I was utterly confused about the attraction I felt, but
there was not denying the physical effects. Here I was naked, apart from
socks, with my clitoris up and erect, smelling the knickers my friend wore
in her hour of pain. I closed my eyes to better remember the sight of her
pubis and lowered the soiled knickers in my hand to my clitoris.
After I came, I laid on the bed for a while until I started to get chill. I
got up and stretched up as high as I could, glancing sideways at myself in
the mirror. Suddenly I caught sight of a car passing in the road outside and
I quickly covered myself with my arms and scooted into the shower-room to
wash.

I've written a lot more, which I will post if you seem to like it. Please
tell me what you think via rachelfrizz@hotmail.co.uk.
Thanks and Bye!