Run Ch. 01

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Dare causes strangers' lives to cross.
9.3k words
4.71
76.7k
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Part 1 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/05/2022
Created 11/12/2005
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Evil Alpaca
Evil Alpaca
3,660 Followers

This story is a bit wordy and fairly long, so if you are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to look elsewhere. It contains heterosexual and lesbian sexual activity.

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The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or in total, without the author's permission.

This story takes place in the entirely fictional city of Springfield, California, so don't go looking for it on a map. And in my little fictional world, there are no unwanted pregnancies or STD's, except as plot driving devices. The author encourages the practice of safe-sex.

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Keith Brooks was in no small amount of pain and discomfort as he sat in Mr. Primley's office. Mr. Primley was the principal of Springfield High School, and was by all accounts a decent enough fellow, but he looked about as furious as his pasty face would allow.

Keith was the blonde-haired, blue-eyed American dream. He was a handsome, eighteen year old boy and was going to have one last great summer playing baseball and hopefully bringing the school its first state championship in ten years. Assuming his arm healed in time.

It was Keith's injured arm that had brought him and one other student to the principal's office. The other student was Pat Baker. Pat was, in fact, a girl. In every school, you had to have one Keith and one Pat. Keith was the one everyone wanted to be like. Pat was the freak that everyone crossed the street to avoid.

It wasn't that Pat was repulsive by any stretch of the imagination. She had short, spiky black hair on top of a darkly beautiful face. Her skin was pale, her eyes and indecipherable mix of gray and green adorned with annoying perfect natural lashes, her cheekbones were high and her lips seemed deliciously full. But her face also appeared to be made of stone. No one had ever seen her smile.

Pat was known for her almost hermit-like nature. She interacted with no one. She spoke only when required by her teachers. She wore the exact same clothes every day (smartly pressed olive-green slacks and a black tee shirt) and ate the exact same thing every day. This was confirmed by the geeks from the computer club that spied on anything more peculiar than them. There were no first hand accounts of her eating habits. She never had lunch with other people.

Keith was a nice guy. But he was also a teenaged boy, and teenage boys do incredibly stupid and asinine things when faced with three simple but dangerous words: "I dare you . . ."

A number of leaders in the school's social hierarchy had been chatting during lunch about the endless plethora of trivial items that dominated the thought processes of the hormonally challenged. One such topic of conversation is why the school weridos were . . . well, weird. They had already gone over the goths, the computer club members, the hippies and the white kids who thought they were gangster rappers (despite driving Volkswagen Beetles) before the conversation stopped on topic-zero . . . Ms. Pat Baker.

"She is such a freak. I mean, she HAS to be a dyke," one of the school council members had said.

"I heard her dad was in prison," said someone else.

"I wouldn't be surprised at ALL. She's only here this year because she got held back from missing a bunch of classes."

"I'll bet she worships Satan."

And the conversation had carried on for a while after that, particularly in regards to assumptions of the girl's sexual orientation.

"I bet she's straight," another girl had said. "I mean I've never seen her checking out any of the girls in gym."

"What's her bod like?" one of the football players had asked.

"Hard as a rock," a jealous sounding girl had replied. "I mean seriously, does the girl do anything BUT work out?"

Pat had been known to spend her free period in the school's weight room rather than going off campus or anything. It wasn't like she needed to study. When she showed up to class, she got top marks. And in her math classes, she was scary-smart. She was taking the most advanced classes the school offered in mathematics and was finishing the homework before class was even over.

"We NEED to find out if she's a great big lesbo or just a freak," the first girl proclaimed. "Someone has GOT to hit on her." The question then became, who would it be? All eyes had fallen on Keith. He had no girlfriend at that time, and it was just assumed that no girl could resist his charm. When getting fed THAT kind of support, it was hard to resist the will of the mob.

It was a simple plan. Approach her, talk to her, and ask her out. Use all the charm he needed. He wasn't expected to actually go out with her if she said yes. Even though Keith had agreed, he had a horrible feeling of guilt in his stomach even as he had approached Pat in the hall after school as she was making her daily dash off campus. For some reason, she always seemed to be in a hurry as soon as the bell rang. She had never done anything to him, and she really didn't deserve to be humiliated. But the mob had spoken.

"Hey," he said, dropping in stride beside her.

She kept walking, showing no recognition of his presence.

"You're Pat, right?"

She had kept going.

Keith had gotten a little annoyed. He forgot that he was just part of a scheme to mess with the girl. She was being rude! He got in front of her, moving left or right as she tried to get around. Finally she met his eyes, and her stare was as cold as the other side of the pillow.

"Get out of my way," she said crisply. "I have to go."

"I just want to talk," he had said, flashing his best smile.

"Get a psychiatrist," she had shot back, moving to once again get around him and once again getting blocked.

"Ouch! Good one!" He had been simmering inwardly. He hadn't done anything that deserved that treatment. Yet. "Hey, I was just wondering if you'd like to . . ."

He had gotten cut off as she did a nifty spin move and squeaked past him. That was when he had lost his cool for just a moment and had made his mistake. He had reached out and grabbed her arm.

Keith had found himself with his face smashed against one of the school lockers, her arm twisted behind him. He was in a lot of pain. His face was hurting and his shoulder and elbow were both throbbing.

"Don't you EVER lay a hand on me," she had whispered, her voice filled with almost brutal tension. "Ever!" She released him and walked out the door. Several of his cronies helped him out, but the damage had been done, both to his arm and his pride. He had just been slapped around by a girl.

The next day, he and Pat had both been called into Mr. Primely's office during first period. The entire incident had been witnessed, everyone had pointed the finger at Pat as the person to blame, and now the starting pitcher for the school's baseball team had his arm in a sling, his shoulder hurting from having almost been popped out of the socket and his elbow bruised. The doctor's told him he'd be fine for the rest of the season, but it had given the team and student body a good scare. The rumors were flying even as this meeting was taking place.

"I will not tolerate this kind of behavior at this school," Mr. Primely said firmly. He kept glancing at Pat, whose eyes were trained on the floor. "Look at me, Ms. Baker. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Her eyes snapped up, but she didn't look angry at the principal. She opened her mouth. "I was attempting to leave the premises at 15:30 hours. Mr. Brooks placed himself between me and the door and blocked passage. I got around him and he grabbed my wrist, in direct violation of school policy on appropriate physical contact. Sir."

Keith just stared at her. She was acting like this was a trial. "She completely overreacted," he said, looking back at the principal. "I was just trying to talk to her and . . ."

"He initiated physical contact that was obviously unwelcome. I was defending myself," Pat interrupted.

Mr. Primely took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He loved being a principal most of the time, but this was obviously going to be a touchy issue. "Mr. Brooks, is what she said true?"

"I was just trying to . . ."

"I'll repeat the question just one more time. Mr. Brooks, did you grab Ms. Baker's wrist?"

Keith's face had turned red, partially from anger and partially from embarrassment. He hadn't thought of his action as being interpreted as threatening. "Yes sir."

Mr. Primely sighed. He looked back at Pat. "Very well. Ms. Baker, since Mr. Brooks initiated the conflict by his own admittance, I will not suspend you. But regardless of his involvement, I feel your response was not proportional to the offense. He wanted to talk to you and grabbed your wrist. While inappropriate, it did NOT warrant the assault on his person. You didn't attempt to warn him off or even just break free. You went straight to trying to break his arm."

"No sir."

"No sir?"

"I wasn't trying to break his arm."

"Really?"

"Sir, if the goal was to break his arm, then the arm would be broken."

Pat had said that with such unassuming conviction that it made both of the men in the room a little nervous.

'What kind of psychopath am I dealing with?' Keith thought.

"It was an extreme reaction, and you know it," Mr. Primely said, taking back control of the conversation. "I want you to stay after school and see a school psychiatrist."

"No sir."

Mr. Primely sighed. "This had better be good."

"I have a prior engagement following school hours that cannot be postponed and I cannot be late for."

"Such as?"

"It is personal business sir. Seeing as I was acting in self-defense, I don't see why . . ."

"Alright, Ms. Baker. You have a free third period?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well. You'll see the psychiatrist then."

"But sir . . ."

"It's either then or after school, Ms. Baker."

She fixed her eyes on the ground. "Very well, Mr. Primely. Third period."

He looked over at Keith. "Mr. Brooks, I expect you to behave yourself with a little more sensitivity and decorum. You are to stay away from Ms. Baker, and it might be good for you to meet with a counselor regarding appropriate on-campus behavior." He sighed again. He'd probably have to have another pamphlet sent out about "appropriate touching." "Okay, both of you get out of my office."

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A little while later . . .

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"You're kidding?!" Keith's best friend Gail said. Gail pretty much was the person Keith turned to when he wanted a sympathetic ear. The two of them had been friends since pre-school and while they had never actually dated, they had always been close. Gail was captain of the girls' softball team and was Keith's counterpart in a number of ways. Long blonde hair pulled back in a braid, a nicely curved figure, hazel eyes . . . A lot of people were confused why they weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. The two had actually joked about it, but they had gone too far being best friends to possibly ruin it by dating. And they were both happy with that decision.

"Nope," he said. "But realistically, he was right," Keith grumbled. "I shouldn't have laid a hand on her."

"Dude, you were just trying to . . . ooh!" Gail was now incensed. Nobody messed with her buddy without raising her ire. Of course, like Keith, she had no prior issues with Pat. She was just sticking up for her friend.

"I was being a prick," he said, a little sheepish. Gail hadn't been there for the discussion the previous day. "We were just trying to figure out if she was straight or . . ."

"You didn't?! You bitch!" Gail was NOT on his side anymore. Gail had just enough of a feminist streak to be incredibly perturbed by such behavior.

"Okay, it was a shitty thing to do. But I didn't do anything that deserved this!" he complained, glancing meaningfully at his injured arm. "Honest!"

"You are SO going to hell," Gail mumbled, unable to be genuinely mad at the dope. She knew he was a good guy at heart.

"I wonder what she was in such a hurry for, anyway," Keith said. "Supposedly, she has something that's all important and stuff that she needs to get to right after school everyday."

"Maybe it's important. Maybe she's got some kind of medical condition and she needs to get to the doctor?"

"Every day?" Keith suppressed a smile. Gail was now curious and once that girl got a thought stuck in her pretty head, she wouldn't be able to shake it. He had, inadvertently, gotten her involved.

"Maybe," Gail replied, chewing on her bottom lip absently as she stared at her ham and cheese sandwich. "Maybe not."

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That afternoon . . .

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Gail was hurrying out to her car, trying to keep an eye on where Ms. Pat Baker had gone. The strange girl was moving down the street as a fast pace and showed no signs of turning, so Gail figured she had time to catch up.

"Damn Keith. He did this on purpose," she muttered. Gail was the type who had abandoned teen drama television shows so she could watch all the investigative programming. She wanted to join the FBI or Homeland Security when she got out of college, just so she could track people down. She just considered excursions like this to be practice.

"Hey sweetie," she heard whispered in her ear.

Gail jumped, but quickly regained her composure. It was just Todd . . . boyfriend of boyfriends. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Sorry hon. Gotta go."

Todd looked at her and cocked his head. "Where ya goin'? I thought we were going to hit the mall this afternoon."

"Maybe later. I've got to . . ." Gail stopped. Todd knew how curious she was and probably would rag on her about this. Not that he always minded her inquisitive nature. He had been the beneficiary of her curiosity about sex. As soon as they had turned eighteen, Gail had shown a very healthy appetite for sexual exploration.

"Got to what?" Todd said, squinting through his eyes. She was up to something. "Gail, what are you doing now?"

"Uhm . . . stalking someone?"

"Stalking someone? Who? Why? Never mind 'why.' Who?"

"Err . . . Pat Baker."

Todd rolled his eyes. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what this was about. "Let me guess . . . Keith put you up to this?"

"No . . . not really . . . sort of . . . maybe . . . I don't really know. But she apparently goes somewhere right after school every day and I have to figure out where!" Gail practically whined. "Now get in the car or get out of the way."

Todd grimaced as he got into the passenger side of her PT Cruiser. He was a bit of a car snob, and wasn't fond of this particular model. He was just going along to make sure Gail didn't get herself into trouble. Again. "This had better not turn out to be another wild goose chase."

"What?! I never . . ."

"Remember when you followed Mrs. Thompson around for a week because you thought she was a vampire?"

"You have to admit that she has an unnatural interest in blood."

"She's a Red Cross volunteer! She used to be a nurse!"

Gail blushed. "Shut up and buckle in."

Gail peeled out of the parking lot and made it to the street. Down a ways, she saw Pat climbing into a bus. It wasn't a school bus, but rather was part of the city's public transit system. "Cool. A bus. I can tail that."

Todd rolled his eyes. "You are such a freak."

"You weren't complaining last night," she shot back, smiling now. They had gone out for pizza and she had gotten some sausage in more ways than one. Despite her good-girl nature and image, Gail was a bit of a horn-dog. Once she'd found out how good sex could be, she'd gotten on the pill and took Todd for a spin every chance she got. He really was an excellent boyfriend. He wasn't jealous of her relationship with Keith because he realized how committed they were to being friends. He put up with her peculiarities with relative ease, and was really laid back. And he was hot. He had the whole "bad boy" look going on, with the long blonde hippie hair, the torn denim and the leather jacket. He never denied some of the rumors about him . . . that he was a troublemaker. In actuality, he came from an upper-middle class family in the suburbs. His father was a dentist.

He knew a lot about cars. And he had these lips that Gail just loved kissed. But more importantly, he had a cock she loved sucking. Everyone thought that he was a rebel when in fact he was just a sexy intellectual.

"And I never will," he replied at last. He was holding on for dear life. Gail drove like a psychopath . . . one with little respect for societal norms such as using turn signals or staying in the lane or, periodically, staying in the street. She had caught up to the bus and so she slowed down. Todd was gripping the "oh shit" handle and trying to remember how to pray.

"Why are we doing this again?" he muttered.

"We're finding out why a total stranger leaves school in a hurry every day without telling people she has no contact with. What part do you find confusing?"

"The parts between the beginning and the end of that sentence."

"Quiet you."

'She asks me a question, and then tells me to shut up,' Todd thought. 'Why do I put up with this?'

Almost absently, Gail let go of the stick shift and patted him on the leg, squeezed he crotch gently and then went back to driving.

'Oh yeah,' Todd added.

The two conspirators followed the bus until they saw that Pat had gotten off and was waiting at the stop for a connecting bus. Gail pulled into a nearby parking lot where she could observe. Pat had pulled a textbook out of her pack and had sat down as she began to read.

"Looks like she may be here for a bit," Gail muttered. She was disappointed for a moment until she realized that this constituted surveillance. 'Excellent,' she thought. She looked over at her ever so cute boyfriend. They were alone. She had tinted windows. She was excited. She reached out and grabbed his crotch. "Unzip," she said as sexily as she could.

"You've got to be kidding?!" he replied. "Gail, we're in the middle of . . ."

"Un-zip," she reiterated, a little more forcefully. She was rubbing his hardening member through his pants. She was horny and he was available. She didn't quite see what the hold up was.

"Gail!"

"UNZIP!" she growled, squeezing a little harder.

"Okay, okay!" Todd unzipped his jeans and pushed them and his boxers down. As soon as his hard dick made a full appearance, Gail leaned over and sucked the head into her mouth. "Why do I argue?" Todd moaned as his girlfriend proceeded to wet his member from crown to root.

"I don't know," she said briefly. "I always win," she added, then started sucking on the crown again. She REALLY loved giving head. Gail didn't understand why some girls spoke of it in hushed voices as if there was something wrong with it. She felt powerful when she was doing it. She could make Todd do just about anything she wanted to when his cock was between her lips.

The sloppy sounds of Gail's blowjob reverberated through the car's interior. His member felt so hot in her mouth. She liked how the spongy area underneath contracted as the rod slid down her throat. He was close to eight inches at full mast, and she was trying to get good enough to deep-throat the whole thing. She tried and it made her gag, causing some spittle to leak out of her mouth. She didn't realize it, but the sight and feel turned Todd on more than anyone could guess.

Todd wished he could return the favor, but their relative positions made it impossible for him to do much more than enjoy her attentions. Her mouth was a vacuum on overdrive, threatening to suck his entire being in. One hand had forced its way between his legs to fondle his nutsack, and her other hand was under the waist band of her skirt, fingering herself.

Evil Alpaca
Evil Alpaca
3,660 Followers