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Sunday, June 19th, 2005
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8:07 pm - Who's that girl?
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mmymoon
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Hello everyone, friendly mod note time.
CPT was founded to be a sort of intimate circle of friends, actively participating in discussion, triumphs, and woes. With some people, we're not sure if you're actually interested in the subjects at hand, or just hanging out... so we're going to start culling people who don't post much and might be bored.
If you feel wrongfully deleted, just let us know.
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| Saturday, January 29th, 2005
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8:10 pm - Applications
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| Tuesday, December 7th, 2004
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7:57 pm - Part the Third
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mmymoon
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Fanatica scrambled backwards off of Mythosidhe's prone body, although her every cell screamed at the withdrawl. She clawed her way upright, using the wall for support.
"I hate you!" she screamed. "I hate your stupid table, and your stupid concerts, and your stupid designer Azone clothes, and..." her voice trailed off, as she had the dim realization of how foolish she sounded. "...and the way you treat the other girls here, it's just not right," she finished, her voice tinged with a yearning whine.
Fanatica's eyes were simmering with hatred towards the other girl. She clenched her jaw, ready to argue further, when Mythosidhe dropped her eyes and smiled. She took a step towards Fanatica, startling her out of her anger. Taking a breath, Mythosidhe lifted her gaze into pools of surprised brown.
"This isn't really about the other girls, is it?" Tenderly, she pushed a stray curl out of her opponent's face. Fanatica trembled for a moment, then with a cry of anguish, she flung her arms around Mythosidhe and let out a shaky sob. Fanatica wanted to reside forever against Mythoside's warmth, she wanted to melt into her sea of soft beauty. She pressed her face between the supple breasts and mumbled in a small voice, "I just want to sit at your table."
Mythosidhe drew the girl's face up again, her full lips a breath away from Fanatica's. "Silly girl," she purred, "If that's what you wanted..."
Just then, the bathroom door slammed open with the sound and fury of Moon's exit. She was followed by very serene Angel, and, as always, her minion, who carried two bookbags in addition to her own.
"Yo, Myth-o! Ready to roll? We've got a show to catch! I hear the lead singer's really HOT!" Moon and her posse had advanced on the pair of girls by this time, and Mythosidhe deftly detached herself from Fanatica's figure and was carried onwards by her friends. "Bye," she called over her shoulder, before disappearing into the sunlight streaming through the metal doors.
Fanatica fell to her knees, her mind consumed with thoughts of the touch she so desired.
Mythosidhe was her siren, her dangerous enchantress.
She was her very own love hell doll.
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7:33 pm - Part the Second
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mmymoon
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As the weeks passed, Fanatica's obsession grew, unknown to the members of the cool table, as it had become known. She worked out her careful plans, drawing elaborate pictures of Mythosidhe in her journal. "Know thy enemy," she told herself, carefuly memorizing the curve of her hips and the swell of her dark, hidden crevice. Time would come for her to set her plans in motion.
Mythosidhe was always surrounded by her friends, that was their obvious defense; besides the Moon freak and her entourage and the other kids at the table, there was a duo of tall, opinionated, snarky girls who always stayed close to Mythosidhe. Fanatica would have to eliminate them first, if she ever hoped to capture Mythosidhe alone. Alone, and helpless, she would have no choice but to fall quivering before Fanatica...
After torturous time spend calculating her plots and convincing some other rather dowdy girls that the cool girls must be destroyed, whispering vicious rumours into many waiting ears, and setting the scene... it was finally time to act. Fanatica sent two of her own minions to pick fights with Mythosidhe's friends, and from the loud ruckus down the hall, they had succeeded. Nothing beats the power of a truly damaging rumour.
Mythosidhe would be coming out of her last class, and would surely have to use the bathroom before she drove home... her hands unbuttoning her jeans, sliding the rough denim down her soft skin... her long legs braced against the cold chill of the porcelain, revealing... There! Someone had gone into the bathroom! It must be her prey! Fanatica snapped out of her daydreams and rushed into the bathroom.
Only the large, handicapped stall was occupied, but not closed securely, so Fanatica rushed over and shoved it open to reveal her nemesis -- and found instead, the freaky Moon girl with her head partway beneath Angel's skirt. Moon's lackey was perched on the stool, sketching furiously in her binder, or perhaps taking notes.
"You," spat Fanatica, feeling the heat in her crotch raise to her face. "You-- you-- you're--"
"In the middle of a rather pressing engagement. Do you MIND?"
Moon made a shooing gesture with her hand. Angel giggled. The minion scribbled all the more furiously. Fanatica choked, blinked, and staggered backwards out of the stall, then ran out of the bathroom door --
To collide forcefully into Mythosidhe, who was trying to enter. Despite the desperate scrambles for balance, the motion and weight of the two girls' bodies sent them sprawling back onto the deserted hallway floor. Fanatica lay on top of Mythosidhe, feeling the hot burn of Mythosidhe's flesh against her own...
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7:06 pm - Part the First
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mmymoon
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No one really knew where she came from, the new girl. She probably arrived at the beginning of the term, with all the other students, but was lost in the ebb and flow of moving bodies. It was after the incident that it all happened, when the new girl found her courage and began to speak out. Fanatica became a force with which to be reckoned.
The incident itself was quiet enough, although it had lasting repercussions. The pink-haired freak girl was demonstrating proper fellatio techniques to the squealing delight of her oddball friends, when one of the more innocent of the first-years wandered over to the table. Mythosidhe, the adopted leader of the group, flushed pale and held up her tray in front of the younger girl's sight. "Sorry, uh, you can't sit here!" she gushed out. "Please find another seat!" The first-year's eyes grew wide and glistened slightly, and she hastened away to another table.
"What?" asked the pink-haired girl, known as Moon, right before being hit in the face with an orange. "Owww... no need to get violent..." she grumbled, as her admiring girlfriend, Angel, leaned over to rub her face to soothe her. "Stupid," declared Mythosidhe, rolling her eyes. In the minds of the girls sitting at the table, the moment had passed.
But one girl watched, and remembered. She vowed to stand up for the abused, for the shunned; she vowed to rip apart the popular girls' evil tyranny. Fanatica would not rest until she'd reduced Mythosidhe into a quivering, begging wretch. Only when Mythosidhe was prostrate before her, chest heaving, her full, luscious lips begging for Fanatica to forgive her... her elegant hands grabbing at Fanatica's own, yearning for punishment... only then would Fanatica be satisfied.
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