Anonymous - Lesbian Locker Room

"You have to go home now," Bernedette said slowly, fearing that the groggy slave wouldn't understand her.

"Okay. When can we do this again?" Stacy asked, her words a little slurred. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth.

"Tomorrow morning," Bernedette said.

"But tomorrow is Saturday," Michele said.

"We are going to have a private workout," Bernedette said.

"At the school?" Michele asked.

"Right. First we run laps and then we play in the locker room."

"But the locker room is locked on Saturdays, right?"

"Sure, but I can get a key from Benson," Bernedette said.

Benson was the old, slightly touched, janitor at Rushdale High School.

Being crazy, he was on the lonely side and lived in a pitiful shack not far from the school building.

He was the sort of guy who smelled like he never changed his underwear and always seemed to have exactly three days worth of beard.

Bernedette also knew that he was also the kind of guy who would do anything for a pretty little girl like herself.

"Sounds good," Michele said. "What time?"

"Nine o'clock sharp. Be there, slave," Bernedette said to Stacy. "If you know what is good for you."

"I think that running will be a lot more fun when it is just the three of us," Stacy said, a bit of alertness returning to her foggy brain.

"That's what you say now, slave!" Michele said.

"Wait until we're through with you," Bernedette added.

Stacy managed a little smile. She would look forward to tomorrow morning dreamily no matter what they planned to do with her.

She would run until she dropped if it meant they would touch her again.

Stacy had to walk a little bow-legged to get back down the stairs to the front door of Bernedette's house.

Stacy was glad that her house wasn't very far away because her legs felt like they wouldn't hold up for long.

Then she remembered that she had been walking funny even before she discovered the girls in the woods.

She knew that her parents would not be suspicious if she limped into the house and went right to sleep.

That was what she had been doing every night since track and field practice began anyway.

Her mother and father would never know the difference.

Stacy had never cared for her parents very much.

She knew that the feeling was mutual. She was an unwanted child.

Daddy spanked her all the time for being bad and sometimes she was locked in her closet overnight. But that usually only happened when she had to bring home her report cards.

Michele woke up in her own house. She had gone home late after Bernedette had fallen asleep. She liked to sleep in her own bed.

The dark haired girl told her folks, who were already up and eating breakfast in the kitchen, that the coach had called Saturday practice, and said that she would probably be home for supper, and if not, she would call to let them know.

She grabbed her gym bag and bounced out her front door, allowing the screen door to slam shut.

Michele looked up at the sky and her olive complexioned face burst into a wide happy grin. It was a beautiful day!

Once again, there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The sky above was the same bright blue as Bernedette's eyes.

Michele walked swiftly toward the school, hoping that she wouldn't have to run into anyone she knew.

The other girls on the team would know that there was no practice, and would wonder what she was doing.

As it turned out, she didn't see a single soul on her way.

She checked her watch as she arrived at the school building.

She was fifteen minutes early. The first to arrive.

She sat on the ground in the sun and looked out over the school grounds.

Michele could see that the baseball team was having their practice.

Michele was disgusted by this. She didn't like guys in general.

It especially bothered her that they got to use the school facilities on week – ends when the girls' locker room was locked up securely.

Michele then unzipped her gym bag, just to make sure that she hadn't forgotten anything. Nope. It was all there.

Not only did she have her sweat-suit and a spare pair of socks, but she had brought along a cigar shaped dildo to use on Stacy and Bernedette once the running was through.

She zipped the gym bag back up and waited, hugging her knees, looking up at the sky with her eyes closed so the sun would beat on her face.

Stacy woke up an hour before she was supposed to be at the school and moaned as she tried to get out of bed.

Her muscles felt like they were made of straw.

Stacy thought she had turned into a little old lady.

Her joints felt rusty – as if they needed oil.

She couldn't figure out how she was ever going to manage to run.

But, then again, that was the way Stacy had felt every morning since she began to work-out with the team.

She knew that a long hot shower and a brisk walk to the school would loosen her up a little bit.

Stacy was pleased, on the other hand, to find the soreness in her cunt and ass all but gone by morning.

She fingered herself down there through her Pi's a little and didn't even have to wince like she thought she would.

She assumed correctly that the insides of her fuck holes were going to be explored once again on this day. She was glad that her internal mucous membranes showed the capability to heal so rapidly.

She walked sleepily to the bathroom and took a long shower, letting the needles of spray knead her sore muscles.

She felt a little better and had just begun to soap her tits when she heard her father knocking angrily at the door.

"Get the fuck out of the John!" he screamed. "What do you want to do? Use up all the hot water."

Jake Turner was not a very nice man and tended to treat everything he encountered as if it were out to get him.

Stacy obediently cut her shower short and get out of the steamy bathroom as fast as she could to get dressed.

In her bedroom she took a peek out the window and was pleased to see that it was sunshiny and warm.

Without speaking to her parents she grabbed her gym bag and headed for the school.

Her cunt began to ache with desire.

And her muscles began to feel alive once again.

By the time she got there she felt as if she could run a marathon.

Bernedette woke up and was surprised she was alone.

She had naturally assumed that Michele would spend the night.

But the blonde was not the type to let things like this bother her.

What did bother her was that she had over-slept. She was late.

She had twenty minutes to get out to the janitor's house, pick up the key, and get to the high school.

She did not even bother to brush her teeth. The little blonde hopped into her running gear, grabbed her bag and headed out of the house.

Her mother and father were still asleep, so she scribbled a quick note explaining her whereabouts on the blackboard next to the kitchen telephone.

Bernedette decided to sprint to the janitor's house, just to get her muscles loosened up after being asleep all night.

She wasn't even out of breath when she got to his shack.

Her face was only slightly reddened and the only sweat she felt was under her arms, trickling down her sides.

She knocked on the door firmly, knowing that Benson was a little on the hard of hearing side – or at least he pretended to be.

"GO AWAY!" Bernedette heard a muffled voice say from inside.

It had never occurred to her that there might be problems getting the key.

"Benson! Open up. I came to visit you," Bernedette said.

"Who is? Who's there?" the voice said. The shack had the smell of burning wood about it, from the stove in the center that supplied the heat.

"It's Bernedette. Remember me? I have blonde hair," she said.