Author's Note:
Thanks to Tom Collins and Lordmikel for helping with editing this story and other suggestions. I hope you enjoy the variety and as always comments are encouraged and enjoyed. ~ Red
Betty stood looking out at the group of Senior Scouts. She sighed. How had they gotten to this point? How had they gone from the leading troop in cookie sales to the last? She had no idea and now she had to tell these girls that for the fourth year in a row they were not going to meet the Council's goal of 5,000 boxes of cookies. Her eyes scanned the young faces that were so eager to please. She'd been with these girls since they started scouts, 13 years ago. Now all of them were Senior Scouts, all were eighteen, and all of them were ending their career in Scouting in just a few short weeks. The ending would be bitter if they didn't make their goal. She took a deep breath and called the meeting to order and then told them the bad news.
"What?" Annie whined. "That's not right. We work hard for the Council. . . and it isn't our fault they raised the prices of the cookies and now no one wants to buy them "
"Damn," muttered Robin. "They even took the best ones away. Do you know how many people got pissed at me because they got rid of the mint ones? How bright was that?"
Betty arched her brow at Robin and the perky blonde apologized for her language. Betty smiled and smoothed back her tight pony-tail. "I know it is frustrating, but we can't make people buy them."
"No. . .but fuck. Sorry," Denise blushed. "They took away the favorites. It's like the customers like one for a few years and then they just rip them away. Did you even taste the low-fat sappy shit they tried to pass off last year? They brought that garbage back and then raised the prices too. Hell, that elf guy in the tree makes the same damn things and sells them a whole dollar cheaper."
With Denise tirade of words Betty knew she'd lost control of the girls. The conversation became heated and she allowed them to hash out ideas for several minutes before regaining control.
"Just fuck 'um," a voice from the back of the group muttered.
Everyone turned to look at the young girl in the back, the quiet one of the group. Sally sat there her eyes looking void of much emotion, though inside her head she was formulating a plan. "Just fuck who?" Robin asked.
"The customers, the council, our parents. . . just fuck 'um. Tell them for every case they get a blow-job, every ten they get sex and damn. . . if they buy more, they get two of us."
Betty's eyes grew wide in their sockets. "Sally "
"What? Come on. . .you know we'd make a lot of sells. Be the best year ever. . .maybe even earn a badge or something," Sally laughed.
Robin turned back and grinned. Betty, however sat there in shock as the group of girls huddled together. Denise offered to have a party at her place that weekend. Her parents would be out of town so the girls and Betty could all get together there. Betty quickly disagreed to the entire thing and told the girls they were not going to sell cookies like that. The girls sighed and then chuckled, telling Betty they had only been kidding. As the meeting shifted to the Summer picnic plans Betty found herself thinking of Sally's suggestion. She blushed as she imagined offering herself up to her neighbor for a case of Lemon Lolly Swirls.
The weekend came and Betty caught herself several times wondering what the girls were up to. She was concerned that they were acting out on Sally's plan; so noon that Saturday, Betty was knocking on Denise's home and walking into a well coordinated meeting. Her eyes took in pie charts and maps of the town all colored coordinated, as were the girls.
Robin had her long blonde hair pulled into a braid and from her blue summer dress it was apparent she was hitting the west side of town. Denise's red locks were piled high in a clip, her curls showering her shoulders, was wearing a green dress that matched the color that highlighted the east side of their small community. Annie wore yellow and her brunette locks hung loose down her back. She was covering the north, leaving Sally all dressed in red embracing the south. Betty sighed and shook her head in surprise. "Well... where do you want me? It is obvious you're going through with this. I may as well help."
The group grinned and hugged Betty then presented her with a rainbow patterned dress that matched the cut of the others. "We knew you'd be here," Denise said. "Had these all made up Wednesday. . . told mom it was for a play."
Betty chuckled and left the group. When she came back she was given a list of all the important people that worked in the community, but didn't live in town, but rather out in the country.
The group agreed to meet the following night at Denise's. Each one had their cell phones, condoms, and a Taser that Sally had stolen from her Dad the Police Chief and the weapons closet at the station.
The girls and Betty then left, each with a goal in mind, a map in hand, and an order form. . . blank.
******
Go West Robin. . . Go West. . .
Robin smoothed down her Unofficial Blue Bunny Scout dress and walked confidently toward Mister Roger's house. Her knuckles wrapped on the door and when she heard footsteps behind it she quickly released the top three buttons of her dress. Mister Roger's opened the door and stared at the full-breasted blonde and sighed.
"Robin, I told you I didn't want cookies this year. They are just too expensive. You're a great girl to have as a neighbor, but they just aren't worth it," Frank sighed. His eyes did take the time to notice the unbuttoned dress and the soft curves of the young tits that were openly on display or so it seemed.
"I agree Mister Roger, so I wanted to offer you something that was." She pressed a small business card in his hand and waited for him to read it. When the door opened wider and her neighbor said "one case" Robin stepped in and grinned wide.
Robin had been in her neighbor's house lots of times, but always with her parents or Missus Roger. The older man now lived alone, his wife having passed away a few years ago. The door closed behind her and she looked expectantly at her customer.
"Where would you like to collect your ummm?" Frank's question trailed off.
"Anywhere you're comfortable," she whispered. She dropped her purse by the door and slipped closer to the seventy-year old widow. "I don't want to cause too much work on that pace-maker of yours." Robin's hand slipped up the inside of Mister Roger's shirt and teased a nipple. Her smile rose as she felt it harden beneath her fingertip.