New Jewelry

"Oh, that bell!"

She couldn't resist. She tapped the other one.

"Oh, those bells! OK, you got me. I hear them too."

"So, are you going to let me see them, or what?"

The hall was crowded, so I turned half into my open locker and Sara stood on my other side with her bookbag over her shoulder, keeping the casual observers away. I lifted my top and let her see one of the piercings. The ring was perfectly placed, right in the meat of my areola and just slightly higher than the center of my nipple so that it hung flat against my breast. The man who did it was a cruel lunatic, but a perfectionist. If he poked a hole in you, it was right where it should be. The short chain hung from the bottom of the ring about an inch, just far enough to dangle below my puffy areola and ring whenever I moved. I could have taped them down, or worn a bra over them, but that had seemed kind of ungrateful, so I had chosen to let them ring and explain when I had to. Now I had to.

"Oh, it's darling! Is that real silver?"

"That's what he said."

"It's beautiful. Where did you have it done?"

"A little place near downtown."

"What's the name of the place? Not that Mom would ever let me do something like that."

"Ah, it didn't really have a name, it was just this guy's garage. It's gone now. The cops shut him down. He won't be doing any more piercings." Or brandings, or hoodectomies, or worse, thank goodness. But I was skating on thin ice here. Anyone who watched the news could put two and two together might be able to blow my cover. And Sara, as I was about to discover, was pretty good at math.

"Oh, that's too bad. Ah, this place that you went to have this done. Would that be down by the park?"

"As I recall, yes."

"And the guy was picked up by the cops right after you were there?"

"Something like that."

"Why does this sound familiar? Let's see, notorious torturer of girls is captured by police who are tipped off by mysterious informant right after visit by secretive superheroine who has some experience at being tied up and tortured. Other victims come out horribly mutilated and go to hospital or psychiatric institute. Our Heroine comes out with pretty jewelry and a weak story for how she got it. Honestly, Sam. You need to work on that. I could invent a better story than that."

"Well, I try not to make up too much. I dislike lying and it's much easier to tell some version of the truth. Easier to remember, anyway."

"So it was you! I knew it. I knew it as soon as I saw the news on TV and the police were so evasive about how they found the guy. I said to myself right then, I said, 'That sounds just like SuperSam'."

"As long as you didn't say it to anyone else. Please, Sara."

"Never. I promised, and I was serious about that. But if you are going to run around doing stuff like this, then you at least deserve a fan club, and I'm electing myself president of it right now."

I was touched. I had a groupie. This was certainly not something I had anticipated and I wasn't sure I should be happy about it. I didn't see any way to discourage her that wouldn't make her unhappy, so I decided to accept the situation. Maybe sometime later she could be useful. Maybe I was rationalizing wholesale.

"OK, but let's keep it an exclusive fan club, OK?"

She nodded and pulled her hand across her mouth in the 'my lips are zippered shut' gesture. Doing that made her look like a little kid. For a second, she reminded me of Jolene, who might also have done that without an ounce of pretentiousness or affectation in it.

"OK, Ms. President, how would you improve the story? No lying, just spin."

"Distraction. Tell about how much it hurt. I know it had to hurt. If they ask where, say it was a really nasty, filthy garage that was so unsanitary that you were lucky not to have caught something. No one is going to ask for directions after that."

"Nice. But how did I find the place?"

"How did you find it? Really?"

"I was kidnapped while jogging in the park. He drugged me before I could do anything."

"Oh, wow! Promise you'll tell me the whole story later. Oh damn! OK, OK. Say you met a guy who you thought was cool, and he convinced you to let him pierce you, but now you think it wasn't such a hot thing to have done and you're lucky they turned out so nice and healed up so well. Don't mention where or when. That looks so well healed that it couldn't possibly have been done just yesterday. Let them think it was done some time ago and you are just now healed up enough to show them off."

I had my doubts about some of that. I had a whole Gym class that would know I hadn't had the piercings before the weekend. But it was a start and some of her advice was good. The less information I gave out that matched up with the news reports of the Torturer's capture, the less likely that someone would connect me to it. I should have been able to do a better job of putting spin on this than I had. I guessed that it was just a little too vivid for me to view it dispassionately.

"OK, I'll go with that. No details and plenty of pain. There certainly was enough of that. You tell people how lucky I am that it healed up OK over the weekend and I'll tell you the whole story about what happened. Deal?"

"I'll do better. I'll tell them how I think it was this cute guy who handed you a line about being in pre-med and that made you think he knew what he was doing, but he dragged you out behind this frat house and you found out it was just a fraternity prank after you'd let him do it. I'll let them think I know more than I do about who it was and you deny the whole thing, but get a little mad when you do it, like you're mad at me for telling."

"Now that will work. Everyone will get so wrapped up in trying to sort out the phony story that no one will dig into the real one. I can deny everything and it will be the absolute truth, but no one will believe me. Sara, you're going to be in public relations some day."

"Thanks! But my Dad wants me to be a lawyer."

"That could work out, too. Listen, I've got to class. I'll see you later and we'll talk."

I was really proud of myself that morning. I managed to make it all the way to Mr. Locke's Social Studies class before I started to get unbearably horny again. I had been hoping I could make it all the way to lunch, when I planned to appeal to hunky Steve Wojeski to use his manly charms and his steel-hard cock to make my itchy pussy feel all better. So when my clit started trying to get a date with my hand, I told it to shut up and I marched into class all prepared to ignore the demanding little beast. It wasn't easy, because it had started to swell up all on its own and was pressing into the slick fabric of my tiny g-string. This was a situation that made it doubly hard to ignore because every little movement seemed to make it rub against the smooth cloth; making me even more aroused. By the time I got to my desk, it was throbbing in time to my heartbeat and I knew I couldn't hold out much longer.

Mr. Locke smiled at me as I sat down and opened my notebook. So no one would suspect anything, he kept smiling as he looked all around the room as people filed in. He checked the roll at his desk and warned us about the upcoming exam and what would be covered on it. Then he stood up at the wooden podium and started the lecture. He glanced down at me every few minutes to see if I had something to show him. So he could see my cleavage, I tried to shift my top around without seeming to. But every time I moved, I could feel the bells start to shake. If I moved enough to let them ring even once, it would attract attention to me and our game would be over.

I didn't want to disappoint Mr. Locke, so I kept trying to edge my top up higher and higher, until I had it high enough for the bell on my right nipple to hang down under the hem. It was a remarkable feat of body control and breathing that I managed to do it without making the bell ring and I was frustrated when he looked at me twice without noticing.

The third time was the charm, so to speak. I moved enough to make the bell swing and catch the light from the windows. He saw the flash and stopped talking while he pretended to clear his throat. At the same time, he bent further over his podium to get a better look at my jewelry. When he did, I lifted my top just enough to show him what the bell was dangling from.

Mr. Locke was so startled that he dropped his oversized teacher's textbook and it hit the floor with a bang, just missing my toes. I jerked my feet apart just in time to keep them from getting crunched. Mr. Locke blushed and got down on one knee to pick up the book. As he straightened, he took a peek up my short skirt and saw my damp g-string with my hardening clit making a little bump in it.

He got up without giving any indication of what he'd seen, but when he had his book back on the podium, he buttoned his sport coat so his erection would not show. I figured I had done my job for the day and so did he. He hardly glanced at me again the whole class.

Lunch was going to be one of those gobble and run deals because I wanted to seduce Steve in the worst way. I was glad to find that Bud was saving me a spot in line, right behind Janice and Jolene.

"Hi, guys!" I said, giving the guy behind Bud an apologetic look that was completely wasted because he never looked up past my boobs. I thought that might have been rude, but I was so horny by this time it was just one more turn-on. I squeezed in behind Bud and turned to face the skinny guy with the breast fixation.

"Excuse me," I said, shoving my breasts against his chest. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Hunh?" he said, which was about what I expected. I flagrantly rubbed my nipples against him, feeling the rings tugging wonderfully inside.

"If I break in line. You don't mind?" I acted like there was nothing going on, but I could feel the warmth of his chest through the t-shirt he had on.

"N-no!"

"Thanks."

I turned to my friends, sharply enough to start a symphony under my top. This didn't go unnoticed.

"What on earth was that?" Jolene asked. To say she asked it innocently would have been redundant.

"New jewelry," I told her, including Janice and Bud as well. Bud hadn't said anything this morning, so I assumed he hadn't noticed. I shook my shoulders to give them all a good idea of what jewelry we were talking about.

"Oh, wow!" Bud said. "That's nice. Did Bambi give you those?"

"No, I got these the other day," I explained, just loud enough to be overheard by those nearby. "I was lucky they turned out this well. It was one of those things that could have turned out very much worse. And before you ask, yes, it hurt. It hurt a lot. If I had it to do over again, I would have made some different decisions, I'll tell you."

"Hurt?" Jolene asked. "You mean you got..." Her eyes got big and she didn't finish the sentence.

"Pierced?" I said, helping her out. "Yes. Two fairly large rings. Welded in place. Permanently. The bells hang from the rings. Maybe I can show you later."

There were more than a few necks craning to get a peek, in case I got really bold and flashed everyone in the lunchroom. That was something I hadn't thought of doing, but I twitched a hand in the direction of my top and there was some shuffling and jockeying for position among those in line.

"For the record," I said, looking my friends in the eye to tip them off that I wasn't speaking just for their benefit. "I got into a situation that I should not have been in. Promises were made and lies were told. I hope I never see him again, even if the piercing worked out better than I had any right to expect. And that's all I plan to say about it. If you hear anything else, I would appreciate it if you would ignore it. We all make some poor choices from time to time and this was one of them."

"Are you going to have them cut off?" Janice asked.

I grabbed my boobs in mock shock. "Nooo!" I said.

"The rings, silly. Even if they are welded on, you can still have them cut off with bolt-cutters, or something."

"We'll see. They've pretty much healed since it was done. I think I will keep them for now. If only to remind me that some things don't turn out the way we expect." I smiled at how well I had managed to get Sara's suggested version of the story told in a way that meant it would be widely repeated, and without having to borrow the school PA system to do it.

We were sitting down with our trays when Janice asked, "So, when are you going to let us see them?" Jolene nodded and grinned at me. She was excited and curious to see what I had done. I hoped this wasn't something she would choose to imitate. At least I didn't have to worry about her falling prey to the same poor disturbed man who abducted me in the park. That thought was an epiphany for me.

"Soon," I answered in a distracted tone, "come with me to the gym in a minute and you can see them then."

I had stopped with a forkful of food on its way to my mouth and I remained in that position as a thought percolated through my poor excuse for a brain. The events of the previous day had taken quite a toll on me — physically as well as emotionally. I had been too wrapped up in how it had all affected me personally to think of what the outcome actually meant to everyone else. I had stated it very succinctly — no more girls would be abducted and brutalized by that man. Girls just like Jolene — no, Jolene herself had been there recently — so Jolene was now safe from that terrible danger. That made the mental evasions and the rationalizations irrelevant. I had done my job. I had put myself in harm's way and used my abilities to neutralize a threat that resulted in keeping my friend, and all like her, safe. I qualified as a real by-gosh crime-fighting superhero by the only standard that mattered. That for me it was an afternoon of rather intensely kinky sex, bondage and delicious torture was beside the point. He was a real threat to everyone else, and if I doubted for an instant that the way in which I had achieved the removal of that threat had any relevancy whatever, all I had to do was visualize Jolene strapped to that table with a red-hot branding iron against her tender flesh.

I chewed the rather bland mouthful of navy beans and considered whether I had been judging myself by style points rather than by results. It was obviously the end result that mattered. I was still too new to this line of work to have any idea if I was doing it the 'right way' or not. All I had to compare myself to were fictional characters. Surely so one expected me to live up to their dashing exploits and derring-do. So what if I enjoyed being tied up and tortured? So what if I had a certain degree of sympathy for the guy? Where did it say I had to hate the villain or require that I beat him to a pulp instead of treating him like a human being? He was out of action, I had a nice time and I came away with some interesting mods to my bod. It all sounded like a win-win situation to me.

I shoveled down the bulk of my lunch before running off to the Gym with Janice and Jolene in tow. Bud had decided not to risk his digestion for the sake of a little curiosity that he would be able to satisfy later at home. I still had to run by the girls' locker room to get my weightlifting outfit from my locker. I wondered if Steve would give me the combination to his locker so I wouldn't have to make an extra stop. Missing lunch for him might be a way to keep his weight in check, but I had a habit of burning off calories in various creative ways and I needed all the nutrition I could get. I needed to eat, even if he didn't. Even if it was the lunch room mystery-meat or veg-du-jour.