Date: Sun, 3 Jan 2016 20:23:33 -0500
From: EricAunleashed@aol.com
Subject: Erica Unleashed in High School - part 8 (TG-teen)

TG ARCHIVES;'Erica Unleashed in High School #8'{EricA}( teen1 tg )[8!8]
"Erica Unleashed"
Erica Unleashed - Chapter 8

==================

It's me again, dear reader, EricA -- and while Alice (the more talented of
the two) is still busy in a real-world sense and unable to devote any time
to  frivolities such as this, I was literally itching to write something.
So, here  is another installment in the life and times of the beautiful and
sexy Erica the  teenage temptress (who happens to still have some boy parts
attached.)

All the usual disclaimers apply. These are fictional characters, don't  try
this at home, and support Nifty financially.

===========

Poor little Gracie was inconsolable. We'd gotten into something of a
routine, her oldest brother Patrick delivering her to us so she could provide us
with dinner, me with answers to my math homework, and my beautiful mom and
me  with entertainment. I watched as she did her hair and makeup, then
changed into  a sexy outfit I had laid out for her. She was needing less and less
help from  me. More importantly, she was taking on more and more of a sexy
persona when we  played this little game. Soon, she would have boys drooling
for her almost as  badly as I had her drooling for me. I hadn't figured out
how, but I knew that  someday she would be useful to me. Well, in addition
to doing my algebra  homework.

By now she knew my sexy stepmom and I had to be "doing it" -- even  though
we had never done it in front of her. And she knew Mom knew she and I  were
doing it. Grace was both friend and pet to me. Sociology experiment and sex
toy. I loved her in a way -- not the way I loved Donna (or maybe my
gorgeous  hunk of a history teacher) - maybe more in the way I might love a pet
kitten.  So, why did I get a thrill out of the thought of hurting her?

I don't know. And frankly, didn't really care. Yes, she meant something  to
me, but not all that much. I knew I couldn't let myself get emotionally
involved with her. Better to be the center of her universe while at the same
time not caring whether she lived or died. God, what a bitch, right? Better
to  be the Alpha Female predator than anything else I could possibly
imagine, and  the only way to ensure my place at the top of the food chain was to
not care if  anyone else starved or not.

Of course this doesn't mean I was superior to Donna in any way -- but  our
love for one another meant those kinds of thoughts didn't apply to our
relationship with each other. We were as one. She was teaching me to be just
like her, while I was teaching Grace to be ... useful to me.

Gracie had just finished modeling her new outfit for Donna. I was  showing
her off as I would my own little girl .. or perhaps my prized pet. I  told
her every pretty girl needed a sexy LBD - a little black dress - and I'd
just given her hers. Of course it would have to stay at my house for now, along
 with the hosiery and shoes. Donna was suitably, and genuinely, impressed
with  all I'd accomplished with this scrawny and homely little ginger girl.
Just as  we'd returned to my room and Gracie was on top of the world, that's
when I  lowered the boom.

"You know, I think this bi thing with me was just a phase." Oh, the  look
on her face. Total confusion. Hadn't I just told her fifteen minutes  earlier
I'd never seen her more beautiful, or wanted her more badly? "I mean, I
like you as a friend and all, but god, every time I see Patrick, I just ....
can't help myself. I was meant to be a straight girl ... for a guy like
him."

I could smile openly, my evil princess smile without worry. Gracie's  eyes
were too full of tears, her head spinning, and in no time her face buried
against my shoulder begging me to love her. And it wasn't just some random
guy  from school who was taking me from her ... it was her own brother. Even
though I  had no specific plan in mind when I said it, the thought suddenly
occurred to me  -- I could use Gracie to destroy her own family. Could there
possibly be  anything hotter than that?

I let the dumb little bitch cry and babble a while before sitting her  down
on the edge of the bed with me and taking her hands in mine. I explained to
 her that I'm confused myself .. that maybe I'm bi and maybe I'm not. Maybe
I'm  just frightened by the feelings I have for her ... but ... it would
take time to  sort it all out. Give the little bitch hope ... and a reason to
keep doing my  algebra homework for me.

"I'll understand if you want to quit coming here after work." Oh, she
would have none of that .. she pleaded with me to let her keep coming, bringing
us dinner, doing my homework. I "reluctantly" agreed, just in time to get
her  cleaned up and back to looking like the homely little loser she was
before she  met me. Then, to torment her just a little more, I exchanged email
addresses  with Patrick when he came to pick her up. She was looking at her
big brother  like she wanted to kill him .. and maybe someday she might. If I
wanted it, how  could she say no?

=========

I saw them again, along with the rest of the clan, at church the next
morning. Donna and I were pretending to be good little Catholic girls, though I
suspected we might soon start visiting the Lutheran church pastored by our
neighbor, the good Reverend Hess. I chatted up Patrick in the parking lot
after  the service, pretty much ignoring little Gracie. She actually tried to
intervene  -- some bullshit about algebra, asking me if I had any
difficulty with one of  the homework problems. Secretly, I enjoyed seeing her
struggle. Outwardly, I  looked like I wanted to strangle her for interfering with
my flirtation with her  brother. Either way, she would pay dearly for that.

"So, Patrick.. as I was saying" I'd taken him by the arm to lead him  away
from his annoying little sister "I'd really love some pointers. I mean, I
played some at my last school, but the coach wasn't really that interested in
 teaching us anything." I'd just made a "date" of sorts with this
not-unattractive senior to teach me how to play basketball. What better  opportunity
to tease a teenage boy senseless than to let him see my breasts  bouncing
around as I kept bumping against him, brushing against his cock at  every
opportunity? He said he'd pick me up in an hour and we could go to the  school
to play on the outside courts. After all, the goal at my house was just  on
the corner of the patio - plus, my mom would be there. As much as he had the
 hots for Donna, I'm sure he thought his luck would be better if he could
get me  alone.

I could picture Gracie running into their house and slamming her  bedroom
door shut to collapse on her bed, crying into a pillow, because the girl  she
loved (me) didn't love her back. If I had the pussy everyone thought I had,
 it would be positively drenched with my arousal. As it was, I was
depending on  the gaff I wore under my pretty Sunday dress to prevent any
embarrassing secrets  from slipping out. If Gracie only knew, I was the intended
recipient of the  first blowjob she'd ever give - but I had to wait until I knew
my secret was  perfectly safe with her.

===

When we got home I rushed inside to change for my "date" with Patrick.  It
didn't require a lot of effort - I was already rather accomplished at
looking  sexy in whatever I wore, even if it was just some old athletic gear. The
fact I  so aroused by what I was doing was a stark reminder of how secure I
needed to  make sure the gaff would be. I was sure he would try to "cop a
feel" (after all,  I was planning to do the same to him) and while his
emphasis should be on my  breasts, I didn't want him to accidentally feel a penis
down there where there  wasn't supposed to be one. My beautiful sexy mom was
helpful as always...  checking to make sure it was still plenty secure and
didn't need to be changed.  I could tell she was a little worried for me,
being "alone" with an older boy I  intended to tease senseless, but she gave me
a bit of encouragement by reminding  me that if she wasn't sure I could
handle myself (and him) she wouldn't let me  go.

Besides, pretty girls always get what they want, right?

====

Patrick was the perfect gentleman when he arrived ... and remained so
during the ride to school. Though he didn't need it on a Sunday, he pointed out
the parking decal on his car - the Senior parking area - enabled him to
park  close to the entrance .. he came as close as he could to offering to take
me to  school every day without actually saying it. I merely grunted - a
distinctively  ladylike grunt, of course - saying it's too bad he couldn't
park closer to the  Freshman wing. That dashed that hope... for now. Next year,
I might have to find  a Senior with a car ... that would certainly save my
Mom a lot of trouble.

I don't know if anyone could use the outdoor court of if it was only  for
students and people who worked at the school. There were six basketball
courts between the parking area and the practice baseball field, and a couple of
 tennis courts nearby. There was only one older guy at the basketball
courts, I  didn't recognize him. And nobody was at the tennis courts. But - there
was a  group of people on the baseball field, to account for the dozen or
so cars  already there, and three more that arrived just behind us. A stark
reminder of  how much I hated Jacob - the guy who was technically my father,
though I didn't  think of him as such. The asshole wanted poor Eric to play
baseball last summer,  even though Eric hated sports and couldn't play
anything good enough to be on a  team.

I had to know.

"Looks like they're playing softball .. think they'll let us play with
them?"

Oh, poor Patrick. He wanted some one on one time with me. And I wanted  it
with him, too... only, I had to see. I took him by the hand and led him to
the ball field, even as more people were showing up. This time, it was a
church  van. A local church group (apparently with a big interest in softball)
was using  the field for practice. Thank goodness I'd worn something modest
- I almost  selected the T-shirt that said "Bad as I wanna be" but opted for
the green and  gold Notre Dame shirt to keep with the good little Catholic
girl theme.
The  group was from a nearby Baptist church, and they certainly didn't have
any  problem letting us play with them as they barely had enough to field
two  complete teams anyway. Besides, I'm sure the guys wanted to both see
more of me  bouncing around on the field plus save us from the sin of being
Catholic.  Whatever.

The teams were mixed gender and the oldest players were probably in  their
mid 30's but most looked like high school or college student age. I'm
pretty sure there was nobody younger than me. We both recognized some of them,
though we didn't actually know them. Teams were picked, and both Patrick and
I  were wanted, though for entirely different reasons. He was recognized as
being a  local football hero, and I had big tits for a 14 year old girl. We
ended up on  separate teams. Sucks to be him, right? One little lovestruck
boy on the other  team said I could use his glove when they were at bat. I'd
have to think of a  suitable way to thank him later.

When asked what position I played, I just shrugged. Isn't right field
where they always put people who can't play? That's where Eric would be put if
he played, and though I was no longer the loser boy Eric, I still didn't
know  how to play softball very well. In a moment of self doubt (yes, hard to
believe  isn't it?) I just said I'd sit on the bench to start. "No, we don't
practice  that way.. we just have extra rovers in the outfield. Why don't
you go stand  behind third base." Third base? That's not right field, is it?
Already, my  confidence was building. I gave Patrick a little wink and jogged
out to some non  specific place I was supposed to stand and .. wait for the
ball to be hit to me?  This was becoming more of an emotional experience
than I expected.

A flashback to a couple of years earlier ... a pathetic little loser  boy
named Eric standing all alone in right field .. his asshole father yelling
"pointers" from the sidelines ... the boy praying the most sincere prayer of
his  life: "God, please don't let him hit the ball to me."

I almost left the field. After all, nobody was forcing me to do this.

A moment later, the ball was hit. On the ground. In my direction. I  froze.
The third baseman effortlessly scooped up the ball and threw it to first
base, but unfortunately, the runner beat the ball there. The usual 'that's
okay'  and a reminder that even I didn't need that the possibility existed for
a forced  out on second. I almost prayed the ball wouldn't be hit to me,
but I knew that  given my recent history, God wouldn't be inclined to do me
any favors.

Then it hit me. A reminder that I was no longer the loser boy Eric.  That I
was Donna's daughter Erica .. and just because Erica had never played
softball didn't mean she couldn't excel at it. After all, the basketball coach
was practically begging me to try out for the team, and .... crack! The
sound of  the ball being hit again, a high fly ball to right field that the
loser stuck in  that position was unable to catch. Saved by the rover who
scooped up that one  and fired it to third base, the runners were held on first
and second.

And I smiled. Smiled, because I somehow knew the next one would come to me
and I'd be ready for it. How could I possibly know these things? Because I
was  Erica .. Donna's daughter .. pagan princess .. future star athlete ..
and  because I fucking wanted it to happen and I get what I want.

Crack! The ball was hit, but not a fly ball hit directly toward me in  the
way I had imagined. It took a bounce then flew high over the shortstop's
glove. I was already in motion and found myself in the right place at the
right  time to catch the ball without breaking my stride .. and I kept moving ..
to tag  the hesitant runner on his way from second to third base, then to
tag second  base before the runner from first could get there. Then, I fired
the ball to  first. The throw was a little wild and the runner was already
"safe by a mile".  Oh well ... that's something I'll need to work on, if I'm
going to excel at  softball, too.

By the time practice was over, I'd caught three fly balls and hit two  home
runs (In addition to my unassisted double play) and had a thoroughly
frustrated Patrick on my hands. His "date" turned out to be ten Baptist boys and
girls between 15 and 30, while the woman of his dreams (me) was making
friends  and having a wonderful time with the enemy. I'd lost count of the
number of  invitations to church I got, but none of them had the balls to ask me
for a  date. I found out two of the boys on my team, and three on the other,
all  attended the same school as me. The girls I didn't care about. Yet.

After we said our goodbyes to the softball team, silly Patrick asked if  I
was still up for some basketball. God, how he wanted to spend time with me.
Too bad I promised Mom I'd be home several minutes ago. Or that when I
texted  her to ask if I could stay later, she adamantly refused and ordered me
home  right away. Of course, that was what I asked her to say. What a good
mommy.

"So, how is it you play football and help out with the family business.
Don't they both take a lot of time?" Frustrated Patrick was driving me home
from  my date with a softball team from a local church, and my plan to ruin
his  family's business was still forming in my devious little mind. He said it
was a  bit of a hardship, but everyone understood how important football
was to him,  and besides, he covered for them plenty when there were things
they wanted to  do. It sounded like the whole family was being stretched thin
-- a house of  cards just waiting for someone to come along and blow it
over. Someone like me.  "I think your sister has the hots for me." Said as
nonchalantly as I might have  mentioned a 20% chance of rain. Patrick, I'm sure,
was a little shocked when I  continued. "Did you know she was bi?"

"Uhhh.. I uh.. no."

I continued in my casual stride. "I mean, I wouldn't have a problem  dating
a girl, especially one who's as helplessly in love with me as she is..  but
seriously? Grace? Can you picture the two of us together like that?" Poor
Patrick, his brain must have been spinning one direction while his head spun
the  other. "I mean, seriously.. don't you think I'm just a tad too hot for
someone  like her?"

"Uhh.. y.. yeah.. definitely." He was squirming. That fucker. I knew he
wanted me, but seriously, not one word in defense of his own sister? I guess
that's just the effect I have on horny boys.

"Well, I gotta decide how to let her down gently .. I don't wanna hurt her,
 you know. Maybe you could talk to her. Tell her I like guys. Lie if you
have to.  Don't tell her I think she's ... what's the word? Homely?" Patrick
would be sure  to bungle that one, but he agreed to talk to her when I
snuggled up against him  in the car and put my hand on his thigh.

I am SUCH a BITCH aren't I?

And totally unapologetic about it, too.

And then, we were home. "You still owe me some basketball lessons." I
quickly kissed him on the lips then dashed into the house before he could
respond.

===============

Once inside, I realized Donna was not home, but she returned a minute
later.

"Don't be mad, baby.. but did you really think I was going to let you go
anyplace with a senior without keeping an eye on you?" I was a little mad, I
think. Not really mad, but .. feeling like she didn't trust me. "Rubbish
... I  know the effect you have on teenage boys ... My concern is that YOU
don't  appreciate the effect you have. Drive one of them too far over the edge,
and ...  Well, I think it's time we signed you up for some self defense
classes." I  nodded.. probably not a bad idea. "And, aren't you glad your Mom
got to see how  well you play softball? I'm so proud of my baby girl." Hugs
and kisses ensued.

No, I wasn't mad ... how could I ever be mad at her? Everything I am is
because of her, and I love who I am.

Since the McCarthy family had no catering job that day, we had a day  off
from Gracie's corruption - though the homely little ginger girl did text
asking if she could bring us some dinner anyway. I told her I wasn't feeling
well from my outing with Patrick (ouch, did she have to be reminded of that?)
 and since she already gave me my homework, there was no need for her to
come  over. Donna and I spent the evening doing research online and sketching
ideas of  how to turn our basement into a dungeon. After all, Jake would be
home in a few  days and there was much work to be done.. work we'd have to
do ourselves and not  let anyone else know about.