Chapter 12 – Foggy Mountain Breakdown

Posted: 2011-03-05 09:13:27
Modified: 2011-03-05 09:13:27


I’m trying to get to my classroom, yet the hallway seems impossibly long. Hands are everywhere. Touching me. Squeezing my boobs and my ass. Pinching me. Poking my pussy and my nips. Stroking my clit, running in and out of me. There’s a finger pushing on my asshole. It hurts and at the same time if feels good. DAMN!

It wouldn’t stop! The hands. The fingers. Some of it feels really, really good. Some is painful and makes me want to scream, yet only sounds of pleasure and wanting more are coming out of me. My nipples are crinkled up so hard they ached. Every touch is sending bolts of pure energy to my core.

I’m right on the edge of a really, really, really big orgasm. Nobody will help me get there, and they are keeping my hands out to the sides, a hard cock in each. My core keeps getting hotter and hotter. Like a spring winding tighter and tighter seeking release. Fluids were leaking down my legs. My cunny is a lake.

“Damn it, I need relief NOW!” I moaned, but no one heard me.

There was a knock at my door.

“Becky, time to get up!” Mom shouted through the door. I heard her footsteps fade down the hall. The hands faded, the hall turned into my room. The memory of a twisted nipple and dry pokes at my vulva remained. Horny and confused, I opened my eyes.

I don’t remember getting under the covers last night, but it feels nice. Damn. I was naked! The Program was real and I’m in it. I had a boyfriend! No, I had a mountain with wonderful caves. Yet, my house of cards was gone. And right now, I’m alone. Lonely. Horny. I’d never been horny before. Not like this. Was I turning into a slut? Would everyone know and make fun of me today?

As I got out of bed, I felt stiff and sore between my legs. I’d lost my hymen! A guy had driven me to some fantastic orgasms with his tongue and fingers. I had a boyfriend! And, I wasn’t hiding anymore. No more house of cards. Where is my muse?

I reached for my robe. “How silly,” I said to the painting on the easel. “I’ll be back to finish you next week, sorry.” My art. Oh, my art. Suffering because of the Program. Stupid Program. Then I saw my painting of Luis and I felt calm. My core heated more. “God, my Mountain, I’m sorry. I’m a slut. I’m scared.” I told the painting, hoping he could hear me and wrap me into my cave.

As I opened my door, I felt naked. Exposed. Oh God, and this was just at home! As I walked to the bathroom door, I couldn’t get the picture of the hallway in my dream out of my mind. I felt the hands touching me. I felt my body responding. Would Luis still want me?

“You okay, Bec?” Jason had just come out of the bathroom. He was dressed like I was but his hair was damp.

“No,” I squeaked. I hugged him and started crying. “I can’t do this….” He let me cry. His chest didn’t feel like my Cave, but it helped. “I’m… I’m… I don’t know what I am. Scared? Confused?”

“You’re doing fine, Bec – all things considered.” I hugged my thanks. “I ran into Luis this morning.”


He chuckled, “well, I didn’t run into him, literally. We ran together for a couple of miles. Look, I’ll get you to school and to Luis, okay?” His arms surrounded me and comforted me. I felt safe. I nodded into his chest. My eyes were drying, finally.

“Jase, am I doing the right thing?” Was I using Luis, and him using me? Did I have any control over my life? Had I ever? I thought I had, but…

“What thing?” His voice was gentle yet concerned.

“Falling for Luis.” Am I? I think so. Or…

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like I’m using him to get through the Program.”

“You and he need to work that out, Bec.” He paused, “I don’t think you are.” He collected himself and held me at arm’s length. “Take your shower, dress, eat, and I’ll take you to school.”

“I’d rather not dress and have to do the strip. I’d rather not go to school.” I’d rather just go back to the way I was before school yesterday.

“If you don’t go, it’s another week.” He paused. “Without a partner and without relief.”

“I know. I still don’t want to go.” Breathe, Rebbecca, breathe. Just like Luis taught me.

“Take your shower. We can talk at breakfast.”

“Thanks, Jase.” I went into the bath. I tried to let the water wash my fear away. Fear. DAMN LUIS! Fear and stories. I liked my stories and my house of cards and hiding in plain sight and… Pull yourself together, Becky!

This seemed so simple yesterday. Now, dressing was deciding which pair of shoes that went with being prodded all day. Prada would be perfect–don’t have any. Maybe I should splurge on a pair for this week. I grabbed my bags and went down to breakfast wearing comfortable Dr. Scholl’s flats. Mom was dressed just in an apron. Dad was in his usual three-piece business suit, but not hiding behind the paper. Jase was still nude.

“Good morning, Becky. I’d be dressed in the uniform of the week, but I have an early meeting. Forgive me?” My dad, asking me for forgiveness? Standing in the middle of the kitchen, I dropped my bags and started bawling. I didn’t deserve their support. Not after the way I’ve treated them.

“I can’t do this!” I wailed. Before my knees gave out, I was the center of three people huddling me, petting my hair, holding me up. Loving me. Another cave. They held me until I finally wound down to the occasional sniffle.

“Becky?” Mom got my attention. “We need to plan tonight. Okay?”

It was the right thing to say – a focus outside of my stories. “Okay, Mama.” The group got me to the table. There was food and juice in front of me.

Before I could shrink into myself, she asked, “What did you have last night?”

“We started with, I think they called it antipasti, and …” I told about the rest of dinner while staring down at my food. ‘Buck up, kiddo.’ Oh, hi Muse. When did you come back? ‘When you started this oh woe-is-me BS. That is not us!.’ I felt her shudder right down to my core.

“Veal Santa Rosa?” Dad asked. Coming back to the moment, I nodded. “His mom is a chef?” I nodded again. “Helen, pull out all the stops. Luis’s mom owns and is the chef at the best restaurant in town. We’ve been there before. Cuccina Rosa.”

“Okay….” Mom really drew that one out–at least three syllables. “We have our work cut out for us. I can’t out do her on the high end, so we should go with our family’s best. Cozy, homey, good, and plentiful. That should appeal to a football player.” My Mountain. Yes, that’s how I’ll get through the day. Focus on the mountains! I vigorously nodded my approval. Mom smiled.

“She told me she’d teach me how to make the veal.” I was finally able to look up and engage.

“WHAT!?!” My father almost fell off his chair. “Do you know that’s a more closely guarded secret than the nuclear launch codes?” His shrill voice made me flash to memories of my youth and being in deep trouble.

“Ah…” I was confused. What did I do wrong? I thought I had done well and that Carmella liked me. “She offered. Then Luis got upset…” My eyes started to mist. “Now you…” The mist turned to a river as my insides turned to mush and my brain went into overload. “I don’t know what I did wrong!” I finally wailed.

My father gathered me in his arms. “Becky, I’m so sorry. I was shocked and reacted. I take clients there all the time and know how strongly Carmella protects that recipe. I’m actually very proud and honored she cares that much for you and trusts you… You must have made a big impression. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”

Naked in school. Boyfriend. Parent’s supporting me. Being called Becky again. Now… Now, my father apologizing to me? Pride? Honor? I’m so lost right now and need a safe place to think. God, where is my Mountain and his Cave?

“Yes, Daddy, I do. Thank you.” The words came out before I realized it. It felt good to hear myself say it. “I love you.” That got me a smile and another hug.

“Mama, I really need to get to Luis. Yet, we still have dinner…” Want. Need. Which one should rule?

“Becky, you go. I’ll plan a good meal and get things ready. I’ll pick you up right after Art and we can get everything ready. Does that sound good?”

“Thank you, Mom.” I gave her a big hug. I could really get accustomed to all this hugging. I whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Becky. Now git!” She turned me towards the door and gave my butt a little swat.

“Let’s go, Bec. We can catch Luis coming out of the gym if we hurry.” Jason, my hero of the hour. I was unaware of the drive. I was trying to sift through all that was happening to me. My father apologizing. And proud of me. My mother helping and asking if a plan was okay. Everyone being supportive. One minute feeling good, the next crying my eyes out. I know it’s not about my period, that’s a couple of weeks off. Thank goodness. The Program would really suck then. Did the Program suck? Or, was I really learning and growing and just didn’t like changing? How am I going to look at this a year from now? Ten years? How am I going to get through today?

“Bec, we’re here.” Jason’s words pulled me from my thoughts. I gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. I was out of the car headed from the gym before he turned off the engine.


“Well, good morning Becca.” I’m sure my smile cracked something in my face. It felt bigger and wider than ever. A new sensation of warmth spread through me. Joy? Love? “What a wonderful surprise.”

“I guess.” She came into my arms and I hugged her to me. Breathe, kiddo. Breathe. Try to remember that women think differently. Way differently. Center! Hard to do with a beautiful naked girl in your arms whose breasts are pushed into your bare stomach.

“Is everything okay?” In through the nose, out through the mouth. Forget Junior. Yes you, Junior!

“No. No it’s not.” Her anger surprised me. Breathe!

“Tell me what’s going on, please?” Stay calm. Is she going to dump me after less than a day?

“I left my old world behind. I’m scared that I’m using you. Just inventing another story as a way to survive this week. I don’t know. I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt you…” She started crying. I held her and let her wind down.

“You did blow up your world. You did a damn good job of it!” That got a little chuckle out of her. I remembered how different my awakening this morning had been. “Let me guess, you had weird dreams all night?”

“I went to bed happy and woke up scared in the middle of a bad dream.” I walked her to homeroom and found us seats in the back. Everyone left us alone. We talked quietly so no one could hear us.

“What was your dream?” I held her hands and her eyes.

“A long hallway filled with hands. Poking and prodding. Pinching and squeezing me. I was…” I’m glad I’m not the only one that blushes. She looked down, “I was also excited.”


“Um… I wanted to, but I couldn’t…” She finally looked up at me again. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t get off.” I avoided a chuckle–somehow. Instead, I held her eyes.

“Which was worse? Being scared and not being able to get away from the hands or…” She cut me off.

“Yeah. The second part.” She looked down and got real quiet. “I think I’m turning into a slut.”

Oh, Shit. Breathe, Luis. Breathe. In–slowly. Hold. Out–slowly. Hold. Repeat as often as necessary. It was very necessary! “What do you mean by slut?”

“I… I think I’m starting to like sex too much and think about it all the time.”

“So, you’re becoming a guy?” I couldn’t help it. I had to laugh. She gave me a strange look. It was if I had just grown a tit in the middle of my forehead.

“I’m not a guy!” I couldn’t help it; I smiled and nodded my head. “Duh!” She lifted her tits up to prove it. I really hadn’t looked at them today. Beautiful. Full. Firm. I knew from personal experience how they felt. Oops. Better come back to this conversation or Junior is going to make an appearance.

“What’s wrong with being a slut?” I asked seriously and coming back to her eyes.

“Huh?” I do love how she knits her brow when she’s uncertain or sorting her thoughts.

“I said, what’s wrong with being a slut?” I lightened my tone a touch. She relaxed a touch.

“It’s not a good thing.” She said this as if a statement. Flat–as if she was repeating the words of someone else and had no conviction about it.

“So, Rosalee is doing a bad thing by saying she is?” I watched her eyes and brow as she sorted her thoughts. Her brow did its dance. Knit one, twist two, flex three…

“Well, no. It’s just an act.” With some certainty in her voice, but not conviction.

“Is it?” I kept relaxed. I’d found a chink in her armor and didn’t want to wound her, just get her to think for herself.

“Huh? Well, why don’t people talk about her… you know, rumors and stories and such?”

“Because, she doesn’t care. No matter if what she proclaims is true or not, people can’t use it against her.” She started her sort again and it appeared she was testing her outcomes. I love her face, eyes, and brow. I love getting lost there and watching her think. I could tell she was seeing something new.

“So, calling someone a slut, and meaning it in a bad way, is about power?” I know she saw my delight. Her eyes were doing a little dance like the one she had done around me the night before.

“Completely.” She was no longer wounded. Now open and relaxed.

“Explain.” How could I not love her and her ability to see beyond my façade and see into me so deeply, just as I could see into her? All we had to do was work out some of the language problems.

“Let me give you two examples. Do you remember Katie Jones from our freshman year?”


“She left school after rumors spread about her being a slut.” I’m sure she saw the pain in my eyes.

“Oh. What I remember, she was a nice person.”

“Was and is. I still run into her. She goes to Catholic School now and lives just down the street. What’s stupid about the rumors is she’s still a virgin. She wouldn’t go out with a guy, so he started the rumors.” I paused. Should I say it? No need. She got it.

“To get even.” We shared a look of disgust.

“In a very nasty way. The guy that started the rumors left school as well. Seems, he started having a lot of accidents.” I tried to hide the stories that flooded my mind. Not some of my proudest moments.

“Let me guess. Mountain climbing accidents.” That got a laugh from both of us. Yet, she did acknowledge my pain.

“What do you think of Maureen Johnson?” She easily shifted gears with me as I mentioned another member of our class.

“She seems like a nice girl. Prim and proper.” Her brow did a thing that could only mean confusion; she seemed to not know where I was going. I could sense that she wanted me to continue and not interrupt my story.

“She’s just very careful who she goes out with.” A caught a moment of fear cross her eyes.

“Have you?” It really wasn’t a question I could avoid–more of a statement seeking confirmation.

“Yes.” Junior twitched at the memory. I’m sure she caught it and the flash of lust in my eyes.

“That’s all your going to say, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” I said with a grin. She hit me. What is it with the women in my life hitting me today?

“So, be careful is what you’re saying.” She smiled in acceptance of my story and a hint of something to hold over me later.

“It applies to anything. Either don’t care and carefully construct a persona like Rosalee, or be discreet and only hang with people you know you can trust like Maureen does. Katie couldn’t deal with it. Her protests of being a virgin were scoffed at.”

“Why?” We shared a moment of pain for Katie–a moment of compassion. Our eye language translations were improving.

“My guess is that people want to believe the nasty rumors. It makes their lives more interesting.” We shared a look that pledged never to be like that nor fall for it.

“Luis?” I looked deep into her eyes, again–a simply wonderful place. I’d rather be looking at her eyes than my favorite place in the universe–Barnard 33, the Horsehead Nebula. I love her eyes. “Will you love me if I turn into a slut?”

“As in you’re gonna love sex and want it a lot, or you’re gonna love sex and be indiscriminate?” I kept my eyes on her watching the play of emotions run through her.

“As in will you love me if I like sex too much?” I’m positive she could see the joyous laughter in my eyes.

“Becca, I think I love you. I don’t know, but it feels like it. It’s kind of new for me.” She smiled and nodded. I knew she meant it was new for her and she shared my concerns. Outside our world, I’m sure there were the usual morning announcements as we worked on the eye language problem. We didn’t hear them. “I do know that I will have very deep feelings for you no matter what. As for you loving sex a lot – I’m a guy!”

“Thank you. I think you know I feel the same way. About the feelings, that is.” She paused. Her eyes showed a thousand stories, and then cleared. Bright and loving. She squeezed my hand sweetly. “I want you to enjoy yourself this week.”

“What do you mean, Becca?”

“I want you to enjoy the Program and all the attention Junior gets. As a matter of fact, I’m not going to give you relief, during school, this week.” That hit me. But, looking in her eyes, I knew it wasn’t because she didn’t want to.

“Why?” I asked softly.

“That should be private. Between us. Maybe in other circumstances, but not during class. Just don’t forget me.” I could see she was thinking about the Art, just as I was.

“How could I?” Her smile and her eyes were the kiss I needed at that moment. And, all I was going to get in homeroom! “Even Art?”

“Okay–one exception.” She squeezed my hand and we both chuckled. Junior started to join the conversation. Her nipples were paying attention as well.

“I want you to enjoy yourself as well. Please?”

“Let me get past being uncomfortable in the halls, first! Plus, get past that dream I had.” Her eyes held determination with just a hint of uncertainty.

“Fair enough! Do you want me with you in the halls?”

“Please.” I could see in her eyes she wanted me to be with her and help her but not keep things from happening. Just help her through it all. “I’m hoping something will happen in the showers after PE.” She said that very softly. I could see in her the frustration from yesterday and her dream this morning. I smiled at her and we squeezed hands.

The bell rang. Becca gave me a quick, discreet kiss, and pulled me out of my seat towards the door. She was quick enough that we got all the way into the hall before the first request came.

“Pose for us, Rebbecca?” She let go of my hand, handed me her bags, put a painted smile on her face, and her hands on her hips. She opened her legs a bit and thrust out her chest. I could see the worry in her eyes, but I smiled at her and she got lost in my eyes. Everyone played nice, and played nicely with her titties and that magnificent ass. It was enough to bring Junior to full mast–in a hurry. Soon, he had his share of hands worshiping him. I was too lost to notice if requests had been made and whether or not I responded. Everyone said thanks and drifted off to their next class. She took my hand again, gave me a small smile, and we headed down the hall.

“How was that?” I asked.

“It was… okay, I guess.” She walked a few more steps. “Did it bother you?”

I sorted through what I was feeling. “Well, I have to admit that seeing you being touched excited me.” I pointed down to Junior, still leading the way. “Yeah, it did bother me a little.”


“Hmm… Part of it was that I wasn’t the one doing the touching.” I sorted through all the feelings–some of them quite new. “And there was a little pang of jealousy.” I got a huge, wet kiss for that. I delivered her to her classroom leaving her with a quick kiss and a pat on the butt. I walked to AP Calculus. That’s when it hit me; she’s in Biology. Everyone knew the myths and stories about Program participants and Biology. Would she be able to handle that today? Oh, shit! Could I handle it? Double Shit!