This is the first chapter of the first book regarding my protagonist's origin story. If you'd like to understand how this fits into the other chapters already posted, please read my profile. I look forward to receiving any comments you have on this or any of the other stories I've written.
Cultivate (kuhl-tuh-veyt): To grow, nurture and prepare; to develop or improve through education or training for the eventual purpose of breeding.
It was day one and Lilly already hated community college. Until that first day in P.E., sharing a shower with someone was something Lilly had never experienced and she was nervous. She had developed early and was very self-conscious of her top-heavy appearance. To make matters worse, her very conservative religious upbringing and overbearing mother had steadfastly prevented her from managing the scratchy, unruly thatch of mahogany pubic hair covering her special place.
But until today, it was something that was easy to hide. An expensive private high school granted individual changing rooms and uniforms that fit. That was the past and her future seemed troubling.
A private university was not a luxury her parents could afford, and community college was. The daughter of a pastor, Lilly's life had been closed off and conventional to the extreme. But when her father was asked to step down from his position, his salary and the perks that came with it dissolved.
Her body wasn't something she was comfortable with or proud of, but people noticed it. Even among girls her age and most women, Lilly stood out and she hated it. But after an hour of volleyball you couldn't show up to History class smelling like an animal. Showering was unavoidable.
The coach blew his whistle and she went, slump-shouldered, to the locker room. According to her class schedule, Lilly would be sharing shower stall 15B with another freshman for the school year. Cassandra Vatspalt was a name she didn't recognize and one that had been picked at random by the school's computer.
Laughter and squealing echoed across the vast, tiled room. The space was humid and filled with the pungent tang of sweat and dank feminine musk, commingled with the brighter aromas of fruity hair and skin products. Jostling each other in the cramped aisles and all in varying stages of undress, more than 100 girls filled every row of metal lockers.
The older girls were relaxed; many of them naked and comfortably chatting with each other as they prepared to bathe. A few teased; joking about a friend's body or playfully grabbing at each other's breasts and bottoms. Foul language could be heard everywhere amongst the talk of exams, teachers, athletics, homework and boys. Their hushed conversations of lurid sexual encounters from the previous summer provided a humming undercurrent to the general cacophony. The incoming freshmen hung on every word while appearing not to hear a thing. They were all very curious to learn more and were keenly aware that their recent entry to adulthood meant sex was on the horizon.
In Lilly's home, it was different. On her 18th birthday last year, her mother sat her down for "The Talk" and it was the most humiliating day of her life. They sat in her father's in-home office, her mother on one side of the desk, Lilly on the other. There was no hand holding or quiet whispering about the joy of sex; it was an appointment.
"The penis is a breaching organ," her mother said as she typed something into the desktop computer. "It's perfectly and purposely designed for the violation of a girl's special place." She stressed that the first time promised the destruction of Lilly's hymen, which would hurt and, more dreadful, the moment would mark a point in her life from which she could never return. "A girl with a torn hymen is no longer a girl, she's a woman," warned her mother as she pivoted the screen around so Lilly could see it. The image was a close-up of a vagina. The gaped labia oozed a dribble of blood from the scarlet gash, which trickled down the unknown woman's thigh. Along her leg rested a thick cock pasted with blood. At the time, Lilly recoiled; her hand going to her mouth. It was a scary image.
"A girl should save herself until her wedding night, Lilly," her mother said. "Proper girls who honor God's wish don't spread their legs for every boy that comes along. Girls that do such things are whores. Do you understand?"
Her cheeks burned and she rolled her eyes. Why couldn't they have gone bowling or miniature golfing for her birthday like a normal family? She hated her life. "Yes mom."
It occurred to Lilly over the next year that the image could simply have been taken of a woman who had sex on her period, but that didn't matter; it had been seared into her memory and any thought of a man pushing himself inside her made her nervous. These thoughts were at odds with others, however, that were centered on exactly that scenario and Lilly had discovered the internet was fertile ground for secretly exploring her more prurient interests.
While more than half of the freshmen had torn or stretched their hymens open through rigorous physical activity, a smaller percentage had already lost their virginity through overzealous masturbation or by the insertion of a foreign object. In the rarest instances, a few of them were sexually active and had experienced penile penetration.
An assistant P.E. coach jabbed a towel at her. "Can I have two, please?" Lilly asked, hoping that the reason for her request was obvious.
"See that?" The woman poked a finger at a sign over the towel cart: ONE TOWEL PER STUDENT - NO EXCEPTIONS.
Lilly sneered, grabbed the tiny towel and turned down the row where her locker was located. Shooting sideways glances as they disrobed, the freshmen were uneasy. Being noticed and teased by an older girl was the worst kind of humiliation, but every girl fell quiet and stared as Lilly wove her way to her locker; the freak was coming and they all wanted another good look. She'd gone through this unnerving experience an hour earlier while dressing out.
A few girls smiled, some glared, and several looked on in jealous admiration. Lilly had been getting eyeballed like this regularly and she tried to ignore their ogling while struggling to remember the combination to her locker. After a few tries the door snapped open and she turned against it. Like everyone else in the Freshman PE class, students were assigned to an activity and rotated through different sports.
The computer had selected volleyball for Lilly and she was required to wear the school-supplied uniform: a red sports bra matched with white bikini briefs. She typically wore a size 4, but when it came to swimwear, she was unable to match a top to a bottom because of her proportions so had to mix-and-match. The community college didn't afford the same luxuries as store-bought clothing, and mixing sizes wasn't permitted. Since the older girls got first choice at sizes, all the 4s and 6s were taken. A size 8 would have fallen from her slender hips, so she had no other choice than to take a 2.
As a result, Lilly's breasts flowed perilously over the top; the hemline dipping enough to nearly reveal her areolas. The low-rise briefs were unlined and hardly covered her special place. They also left most of her bottom exposed as the material continuously slipped between her cheeks when she moved. Thin red strings joined the two triangular panels on the hips and the design prevented the use of underpants, lest the wearer look truly ridiculous among her peers, not to mention the smell a sweat-soaked pair of panties would emit following an hour-long workout.
The Palo Alto Community College school mascot, a grinning red devil, was screened on the left butt cheek, his tail curling into a large "R" on the right cheek before diving downward between the wearer's legs. His phallic appendage emerged in front, thick and vertically bisecting the crotch, the spade-shaped tip pointing to the girl's exposed belly button. RED DEVILS was screened on the front panel, the devil's tail forming the "I." The older girls called all freshmen forced to wear the uniform Cherry Poppers.
Using the locker door as a blind, Lilly tugged off the top and then the saturated briefs, which didn't cover all of her pubic hair and had unveiled a hazy dark triangle the moment she began to sweat. She reached for the towel she'd hung on the locker door and it was gone. Peering around, she saw an older girl with curly red hair down the aisle twirling it around her finger. She stood nude, hip cocked. "Come and get it, Cherry Popper. We want to see them again." Although intensely ashamed to parade naked in front of everyone, Lilly knew she couldn't appear to be intimidated, it would only lead to more teasing. The other girls in the row fell quiet and backed away, creating a pathway. No one turned from the show.
Lilly was taller than most girls, and lean with slight hips; her limbs and torso long, her tummy flat and toned from years of gymnastics. Her breasts rode high on her frame, defying their obvious weight. They all watched as she unfolded herself from around the locker door. She strode as confidently as she could: chin up, back straight, chest out, as all gymnasts are taught, staring ahead. Her cheeks burned and she fought back tears as she approached the older girl. She swiped for the towel but the girl pulled it away. "Say please."
Bitch. "Please." The tears were welling. Eyes crawled over her body, and she could hear a few giggles.
"Okay, but let's see them bounce first. I saw you on the volleyball court and they look amazing when they bounce! Jump up and down and I'll give the towel back." And now a tear rolled down her cheek. Lilly wiped it away, utterly humiliated and furious at the girl who did little more than smile back.
At 5-feet, 9-inches tall, she had four inches on the older girl and probably was stronger, so she thought about lashing out; grabbing the girl by the hair and banging her head against the lockers, or clutching her perky freckled breasts, digging her nails into the bitch's upturned pink nipples until they bled. She envisioned kicking the girl in the crotch and shoving her foot inside, viciously tearing her flame-tinged cunt wide open. But Lilly knew hierarchy was important and the redhead held all the power.
She also knew a fight would lead to a suspension, or maybe expulsion. And, to be honest, she was terrified of getting into a physical altercation. There were stories about the tough inner-city kids and she was afraid of whatever that meant. Maybe there were gangs. She was tall but willowy and if any of the other older girls jumped in, Lilly stood the chance of being badly beaten. She envisioned them pulling her by the hair to the tile floor, punching and kicking her breasts and perhaps shoving a foot inside her special place.
