I had been an on-and-off member of SLUT for the last half year, sometimes attending a few evenings in a row, sometimes doing my own thing for weeks, but I felt that this, somehow, didn’t sit right with Angie, my roommate. She had introduced me to Wetwood High’s most secret of clubs after she had caught me red-handed - or red-cheeked - one night, with my face buried between pretty redhead Lizbeth Stroker’s thighs behind the gym. Lizbeth had her reputation. Nobody was ever granted the pleasure of tonguing her honeypot twice in a row. Recognizing me for what I was - lesbian and horny - Angie had dragged me to the first meeting of SLUT, and it had been a revelation.

I found it curious that I hadn’t heard of SLUT before. Usually, at an all-girls’ school, the most secret things are the first you learn about. But SLUT - Secret Lesbian Union of Tarts - had never crossed my radar in the half year I had already been there.

It was actually fun. They had that secret society thing down pat, complete with a stone walled meeting room with a vaulted ceiling in the cellar, swearing a naked oath of confidentiality (and readiness for any pussy in need of a good honey-licking) in flickering candlelight and surrounded by equally naked but hooded pretty girls.

You surely can imagine that hormones run high at a school whose population consists solely of seventeen-and-eighteen-year-old girls. At Wetwood, it may even be a little higher than usual. For one, there were no boys in the vicinity, and leaving school grounds was a no-go, and for two, Wetwood only took in the crème-of-the-crop - or better, all those misbehaving, incorrigible daughters of the money-stuffed and important crème-of-the-crop. If you got booted from High School for the third time because of drugs or indecent behavior and daddy’s checks weren’t able to fix it this time around, chances were good that you got shipped off to Wetwood, an old castle in the middle of nowhere.

That had been my fate too. I swear, until sixteen, I had been the perfect daughter and completely satisfied with my life, but then that cute punk girl, Cassie, joined our class. I had only been curious about her, so I visited her at her home for some studying. The next thing I knew was that my pants were across the room and her head buried between my thighs, and god, that punk’s tongue was gifted! From there on, it was all downhill. My grades dropped as fast as my horniness spiked.

Cassie and her dyke harem - that’s what she called us, though not everyone was happy with that - were my downfall. I found myself more fascinated with toned thighs, pretty boobs and soft, wet snatches than algebra, and somehow it became my mission to taste every honeypot my age and upwards I could wiggle my tongue into. There’s something so satisfying in these short, high-pitched gasps that announce the upcoming release, and the feminine taste of absolute pleasure, to me, was addictive. If we had managed to keep our activities to after school, nothing much may have happened. My highschool career might even have survived the two times we got arrested for having a night-time orgy on the school's lawn.

I’m still not completely sure if it was getting caught making out - well, naked and sixty-nining, actually - with the pastor’s daughter that broke the camel’s back or the fact that we did it in the gym with Liza, our principal’s daughter, watching us. Perhaps, if it had been anybody else catching us but her father, I’d still be attending my local college. But then, these photos of me riding Cassie’s face on the hood of the principal’s car were bound to surface sooner or later, so it was probably just as well.

But I digress. I hadn’t thought all that much about the wording of my SLUT oath, and so I was somewhat surprised by the stern looks I got this time when I entered the cellar room in Angie’s wake, having been woken up by her with a mysterious, “SLUT meeting, now!”

We undressed and neatly folded our clothes in the small anteroom. They were expecting us, standing in a semicircle with Bobby Boobs - Roberta Summers with real name, but one glance at her impressive chest told everything about her nickname - in the middle and looking none too pleased.

Angie closed the door and slipped between the ranks of our fellow sisters, sending me a last apologetic look, and Bobby told me to stand in front of them.

“You’ve been neglecting your duties as a sworn member of SLUT!” Her hissed accusation held much more venom than I would have expected, but since I surmised that this was all part of the dramatic secret club thing, I didn’t give much by it.

“I’ve been busy otherwise a few evenings,” I answered with a shrug. “I mean, it’s not as if you own me or such.”

That made Bobby take a few steps towards me. The expression on her face wasn’t pleased at all, but with these massive, firm breasts wiggling in front of me almost at eye level, it was hard to focus on anything else. I subconsciously licked my lips. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not really that much of a boob girl - in fact, a perfect little handful of tit is just the thing to me drool - but Bobby’s orbs were impressive like hell, and being teased by them from only a few inches away was not something I could ignore.

“Sister Christine,” she intoned, ignoring my reply and breaking my contemplation whether I should wrap my lips around one of her lovely, big nipples, “you failed to show up for your pussy licking duties on at least ten occasions, leaving your sisters in need and unfulfilled. This is a direct violation of your oath to be available and eager at any time your sisters need you.”

“Oh, come on,” I started to say, but she cut me short.

“The union has rendered judgment about your misdeeds, and you can either accept our punishment or forever be shunned.”

That got me thinking - and swallowing hard. “Shunned?” I asked, slightly choked up at the dreadful thought that all these wonderful pussies and mouths could be out of my reach. My eyes roamed around the room and over all the pretty naked girls who focused on me with accusing glares. “Punishment?” I asked - rather stupidly - with trepidation. It could be a small spanking, and I wouldn’t mind that, but guessing from all the drama going on and Angie’s wince when our eyes met, it was likely something harder.

Bobby smirked. “Yes. We’ve talked long and voted on a fitting punishment. You can atone for your oath-breaking by being Priscilla Lewid’s girlfriend for two weeks.”

My eyes went wide, then, once I was sure that I hadn’t misheard, even wider, and I couldn’t contain a chuckle. “Cilla?” I asked, astounded. “Not that I knew that she’s one of us, but really, that’s supposed to be punishment?”

I was really and absolutely perplexed. Cilla was cute. Absolutely, blonde-southern-farm-girl cutishly cute. And cute really does it for me. I mean, I’m not picky, and I’m not unable to see beauty either. I can spend hours worshipping Bobbie’s massive, wonderful boobs and her endless legs. I can lose myself between the thighs of Russian beauty, Natalie, with her milky complexion, perfectly shaped legs and tummy and her rosiest of rosy nipples.

But Cilla was the epitome of cute. A little smaller than me, a pert, almost boyish bum that nonetheless wiggled perfectly with every step of her short, strong legs. She had a few pounds too much around her hips to call her lean, and her tits were small, yes, but her nipples perked coquettishly upwards - thank god for community showers - and when she smiled with her pouty lips under a button nose that was only a little too wide to be called lovely and with one eyelid a tad drooping, I always felt a fluttery attraction pull on my heart. Okay, I admit, more between my thighs. It’s sometimes hard to distinguish.

So, while I stared at Bobby with all the dumbfoundedness I felt, the corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “You think so?” she whispered. “All the better. Report to her room immediately, and don’t show up for a meeting before the two weeks are up.” She folded her arms under her chest, and I almost lost the fight against the reflex to finally lean in and capture one of her large nipples between my lips.

“You’ll accept the punishment?”

“I will!” I confirmed eagerly.

* * * *

“I’m sorry!” Angie accosted me as soon as the meeting was declared closed.

“What’s there to be sorry?” I wanted to know while I slipped back into my clothes.

We padded back upstairs to the dorm rooms on the second floor. “You really don’t know?” she asked, biting her lip worriedly.

“Know what?” I asked, stopping at the corridor that led to our room.

“That…” Angie had a somewhat desperate look in her eyes, but instead of telling me what this was about, she spun around and rushed off down the corridor, not staying around for further questions.

* * * *

My heart beat all the way up to my throat when I knocked on Cilla’s door. I heard some shuffling, followed by a soft voice shouting, “Coming!” and the pattering of naked feet on tiles announced her approach. The door slowly swung open and I started to blush. Cilla looked me up and down and smiled.

“Oh, you accepted?”

She sounded surprised, which threw me for a loop. “Of course I accepted! I… you’re…” Giving compliments wasn’t something I was good at, and I hated it. Self-consciousness flickered over her cute face, and I had to do something against that, to say something to ensure her. “I’ve had a crush on you for ages!” I confessed.

“Oh, my! Really?” She acted so full of disbelief as if she wasn’t aware of just how attractive she was.

“But come in.”

I let her close the door behind me and usher me to the middle of the room where a bamboo mat protected her feet from the cold stone floor.

She tilted her head to the side and lifted an eyebrow. “Two weeks! You have no idea, do you?”

“About what? You’re starting to talk in the same riddles as Angie has.”

“It’s not important. Wait for a moment. I need to find you something more comfortable to wear.”

“Uhm… Okay.” She herself was dressed in tight pink teddy shorts and a t-shirt in the same color, and I watched her pert bum as she crouched down in front of her wardrobe and rummaged through the bottom drawer. Thoughts of stripping these shorts off her bum and plastering kisses all over her smooth, muscular half-orbs sprang up in my mind and gave me a warm buzz.

“I’ve never seen you at a SLUT meeting,” I said to fill the silence before it could become awkward.

“That’s because I’m not a member.”

“Not? But I thought… then why…?”

“I’m a bit different. But you’ll see for yourself. Ah, here it is!” She stood up and brought me a lime green pair of shorts the same cut like hers and a matching t-shirt. “Put this on please. I want to cuddle with my new girlfriend.”

Her smile was so bright that my heart did a little flip-flop, and my hand almost missed the bundle of clothes she held out to me. “Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling self-conscious.

“Just join me on the bed when you’re done,” she piped and turned around, heading over to the bed and picking up a book from the nightstand.

I was taken aback a little. Somehow I had expected her to watch me undress - in fact, I wanted her to. If we were to be girlfriends for two weeks, she’d surely want to see what she got. I knew I did. But she appeared instantly engrossed in her book, and I awkwardly slipped out of my school clothes once again, folding them on the nearby table. I took glimpses at her from the corners of my eyes, not wanting to give away just how much I wanted her to look. I stripped out of my bra and panties, standing naked in her room, but she never even looked up.

With a small sigh, I slipped the shorts up my legs and over my clean-shaven mound. Pubic hair was the worst enemy of a good licking, so every member of SLUT had agreed to keep hairless down there all the time, and I had quickly come to love the smoothness and sensitivity that came with it. The t-shirt was tight, so tight I just barely managed to wiggle inside it, and my B-cups were hugged all around by the stretchy material.

My heartbeat sped up when I walked towards the bed. I sat down on the edge, waiting for her to acknowledge me and tell me what to do. I often found myself as the aggressive one, the seducer, but not with her. “Priscilla?” I finally asked when she didn’t react.

“You’re done?” She stuck a piece of paper inside the book and snapped it shut before putting it back on the nightstand, then patted the bed right next to her. “Hop up, girlfriend!”

When I was stretched out on my back, she laid down next to me on her side and propped her head up with her hand. “What do you know about me?” she wanted to know.

Yes, what did I know? I decided to start with the obvious. “You’re cute. You’re, I think, in half of my classes, but you always sit in the back. I saw you help Mary-Anne the other day when she slipped on the steps, so you’re nice too. Oh,” I ended, feeling my cheeks grow hot, “did I tell you that you’re incredibly cute?”

“Cute? Really?” Somehow, she appeared astounded by that. But then a small, lovely smirk played over her lips, and she sat up, swung one leg over me and knelt over my pelvis. I shuddered, just a little, but enough for her to notice. She grinned. “You don’t know me at all.”

“Well, I know what I see,” I objected.

“Then let’s see.” She winked and slowly started to slide her mound over mine.

It felt delicious. When you’re as good as locked up in a castle full of pretty girls your age, and when you’re, like me, totally into girls, you’re constantly under high voltage. Having your crush rub her pussy against yours, even if a few layers of fabric separated us, sent the most pleasant shocks through my lower body, and it took her all of a few seconds to draw a long, delighted moan from me. She leaned forward a little and cupped my breasts with her hands, putting some of her weight on them and gently massaging them.

I was in heaven. “God, yes, that feels wonderful,” I moaned, rolling my hips in time to meet hers.

Her cheeks were also getting flushed, and her eyelids fluttered with every rocking of our hips. She made small gasps and smiled. “You look pretty when you’re all excited.”

“So, do you.”

She stopped and shifted her legs around. For a moment I thought she had just been teasing me, but then one leg nestled its way between my own and she pulled one of mine up and rested it against her shoulder. I knew what was coming and gasped, “Fuck, yes!”

She held my gaze for long seconds and ran her hand up and down the inside of my thigh, almost driving me crazy. My breath hitched when she finally lowered her body enough so our pussies made full contact through the fabric, and then her hips started to gyrate and rub the already slick fabric of the shorts over my pussy. We both gasped in synch.

“I love,” she told me between soft moans, “that you haven’t asked… Mhmm, that feels wonderful… what the punishment is about.” She rocked forward, and her hot sex rubbed hard against my own. Heat shot through my pussy.

“I’m not sure I mind,” I gasped in return and threw back my head when her pubes pressed perfectly against my clit and sparkles exploded between my thighs. Talking became the farthest thing on my mind. Her hips rolled and gyrated, and every forward motion brushed over my clit and notched up the heat in my pussy. I lost all sense of time while our pussies danced together in a rough, wet dance of love to the music of our combined moans. The pleasure inside my loins grew smoldering, then turned into a blazing fire. “Oh fuck, I’m going to…”

Cilla froze and lifted herself up a few inches. “Do you know what Bobby calls me?”

“Please!” I whimpered, trying to hump my needy pussy against hers and failing. “Don’t stop! What does she call you?”

She resumed the tribbing, and after only a few seconds, the fire inside my pussy exploded into that delicious, delirious, all-consuming ball of orgasmic pleasure, surging all through my body. “Yeeeesssss!” I cried out and arched my back, and the fire turned into a wonderful warmth. My pussy felt like a river was running out of it - even over it - and rode on the wave of my intense orgasm, shuddering with every brilliant aftershock when her pussy rubbed over mine.

Cilla stopped moving, and slowly, the shocks ebbed - but the warm, wet feeling didn’t. I leaned up and looked where our bodies touched, and my breathing stopped. A soft, hissing sound filled my ears, and the front of her pink shorts was dark and wet. Liquid dripped through the fabric and onto my crotch, where an even dark spot had formed.

My eyes widened. “You’re…!” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

“Bobby calls me ‘Pisscilla’,” she told me and started rubbing our now pee-soaked crotches together as fast as she could.

I was frozen, torn inside. This was so… surreal, but the feeling of her body rubbing against mine, the rhythmic squelching sounds and her increasing gasps left no doubt that this was, in fact reality. I watched her eyes close and pretty body arch backwards. Her lovely lips opened to form a long, deep cry of pleasure and she toppled forward, gasping and twitching in release, and she was just too cute to push her away. Somehow, my arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight, and then we were kissing, devouring each other’s mouth with sloppy, greedy lips. The warm, wet feeling between my thighs turned into a tingling sensation.

“So, do you hate me now?” she asked a little hesitantly once we both had to come up for air.

I let out a deep breath. “I… no. But you just peed on me! You peed on me!”

“I know. I can’t help it.” She brushed some stray hairs from my cheek. “If you want to go through with being my girlfriend, I’ll do it again. Hell, I’ll pee all over you!”

“You’re crazy!”

“I know.” She grinned.

What was I supposed to say to that? I had committed myself to this for the next two weeks, and the idea of being shunned from SLUT was not something I wanted to begin to contemplate. And - I swore silently to myself - she was still so incredibly cute.

Her thigh nestled closer between mine and she pulled the blanket over us.

“What… shouldn’t we take a shower?” I asked. “Get out of the wet clothes?”

“No. I want to sleep like this, with my pee all over us.”

It took me a long time to fall asleep, but at some point, all the racing thoughts in my mind lost their aim, not having found a common direction, and Cilla’s even breathing lulled me into slumber too. I awoke a few times, feeling dirty and wet and a little uncomfortable, but her body rested partially on mine and kept me from sneaking out. Once, when I woke, she was breathing fast, and I could feel her nipples press hard against my upper body and her thigh rock softly against my pubes. I could only wonder what hot, wicked dream she was having and try to get back to sleep despite the forbidden warmth between my thighs.

I had never done something so dirty, so forbidden. But for the next two weeks, I was going to be Pisscilla’s girlfriend. I couldn’t afford to be offended by a little pee. I did my best to ignore the strange, breathless arousal I felt thinking of her kink and blamed it on the feeling of my crush’s body so close to mine.