Money, Breasts, Thighs

My name is Brooklyn, I'm 17 years old. I'm an orphan, raised by my uncle. But I don't thank him, because he did it for the meager inheritance and house left by my parents. I attend the top high school in our city. Originally, I couldn't have gotten into this prestigious school, but because I live nearby and am a well-known orphan, I managed to get in. However, a top high school isn't as great as people imagine. Compared to ordinary high schools, it might even be worse. This is because all the rich kids go to this school, turning what could be a good school into a mess. But I'm not afraid, because I'm already pretty messed up myself. The incident began last Wednesday. I bet with my classmate JiBa on who dared to lift the skirt of our class beauty, Linda, to see the color of her underwear. The loser had to buy a ticket for the newly opened Double Dragon DJ for the winner. I've never been afraid of anything, my life is already a mess. Even though it was said that the beau of the class beauty was a big shot in the Queen's East District and her family was also influential. So what? They can't kill me. I just might get beaten up, but compared to the 300 or 400 DJ ticket, I accepted the challenge. I chose to act during a break when most people went to the playground. Seeing Linda preparing to leave, I signaled JiBa to wait, then confidently walked over with my book. Linda was wearing a tight skirt that day, which I didn't know the name of, but it made my task a lot more challenging. Standing by her desk arranging things, she hadn't noticed me, which was understandable. None of the pretty girls in class gave me a second glance, even though I was recklessly brave. But it doesn't compare to the wealth of those playboys. I walked up beside Linda, deliberately dropped my book on the floor, and while she was distracted, took a deep breath, grabbed her skirt hem, and pulled it up with force. I might have used too much strength, or maybe her skirt was too elastic. Anyway, I yanked it to her waist, and suddenly, there was a flash of white. Damn, JiBa tricked me; she wasn't wearing any underwear. Everyone was stunned. By everyone, I mean those in the classroom, including Linda herself. She didn't expect anyone to make a move on her, and such a bold one at that. After I greedily eyed her exposed parts, I walked back to JiBa, giving him a slap to wake him up (understandably, our class beauty, many boys' dream girl, had been exposed by me. And she didn't disappoint, even flashing a bit, so JiBa was understandably dazed. Usually, he just watched adult films and indulged in fantasies, none of which compared to today's excitement.) Unfortunately, my slap did nothing until Linda realized (did she secretly enjoy being exposed? Took her longer to process, the fool). She screamed, snapping JiBa back to reality, owing me 400 yuan. After receiving my cash from JiBa, Linda composed herself, walked up to me, slapped me, threw down three words, "Just wait," and stormed off. What was there to be angry about? It's not like anybody was forced to see anything. If she didn't want people peeking, she should've worn something underneath. I yelled after her, "Wait, here's a hundred, buy yourself some decent underwear. Stop walking around half-naked." But Linda didn't listen and ran out, not returning the entire afternoon. I wasn't worried though. I had enough money to have fun for a few days. I'd deal with any aftermath later. Around six in the evening, I skipped the last class and headed straight for the Double Dragon DJ. Arriving there, I handed over 400 yuan, receiving six coins and a ticket. Damn expensive! Muttering to myself, I went in. The DJ's hefty price was mainly due to the performances there. I'd heard they brought in Russian girls performing with steel poles, and some full-front nude hostesses. A few classmates had visited before and boasted about it extensively, sparking my curiosity, so much so that I risked getting cash for it. Being raised by my uncle, that old miser, forget about 400, he wouldn't even give me four yuan. The DJ show was already underway when I got in, eagerly seeking out those nude hostesses. Damn, such exaggeration! They weren't nude at all, just in swimwear. On closer inspection, the only advantage was their minimal three-piece suits with nothing underneath, revealing appealing silhouettes, offering slight consolation amidst disappointment. Patiently, I waited for the main act to appear, only to be utterly let down. Those so-called Russian performers turned out to be two sisters from Xinjiang pretending to be Russians. Totally a con-job. But Xinjiang performers would have to do. I waited patiently for the lady to strip, needing something fresh to see. Although tempted to assist her undressing, knowing the city's big boss owned this place, I dared not risk disability for life. I spent a lot of time at the bar, even though things weren't going as I'd hoped, because at least the drinks were free. I ordered more than twenty times, not for anything else but just to get another look at the waitress. I'd never seen a girl in a swimsuit up close before, especially not one so pretty. The swimsuit was so thin you could see everything—it wasn't too bad at all. What more could I ask for, seriously? However, there was a downside to drinking too much, and within three or four minutes, I was rushing to the bathroom. Being my first time here, I didn't really know where it was, and after taking a few wrong turns, I ended up in the private rooms. The need to relieve myself was urgent, and I thought about finding a spot to just take care of it on my own. But then I spotted someone I really wanted to see—our school's beauty queen, Michelle. Speaking of this school beauty, she truly was exceptional. In the same grade as me, she excelled academically as well. In just her first year of high school, she had replaced the former beauty queen, and no one could do anything about it since her dad was the city bank president. Rumor had it that thousands of the boys at our school were secretly in love with her, and hundreds were pursuing her, myself included. Yet, I wasn't delusional; I knew my standing and didn't dare to actually chase her. But unexpectedly, there she was. I wondered who she was with—who was the lucky guy? My urge to pee disappeared, and I crouched at the wall's corner, secretly watching. After a while, two average-looking guys approached (I later learned one was the police chief's son and the other was the son of the city's top company executive) with a few bottles of drinks. At the door to the private room, one particularly sly guy pulled out a syringe from his pocket (damn, trying to spike the drink) and injected it into one of the bottles. On the bright side, I could step in as the hero saving the damsel in distress—might even score some points. With this thought, I stayed put, watching as the two sly guys went in to trap my dream girl. I guessed Michelle was still innocent because not even five minutes later, they were carrying her out, one of them holding a pair of underwear. Damn, had they succeeded already? Hopefully not, or else they were definitely 'quick shooters'! As they turned a corner, I followed them, all the way to the back door. One guy handed Michelle over to the other, presumably heading to get the car. Seeing his departing back, I knew it was time for me to act. I pulled out a pair of sunglasses from my pocket and put them on, then approached the remaining guy from behind, tapping him on the shoulder, "Excuse me, sir, our supervisor mentioned you haven't settled the bill yet. Could you please go inside to clarify?" The guy's face turned red, "My friend didn't settle the bill?" "Sorry sir, I'm not sure, but I hope you can check it out yourself. I can keep an eye on this drunk lady for you." The fool looked me up and down before heading back inside (damn, I was wearing my best clothes, and with these A-brand sunglasses, did I really look that much like a waiter? Annoying). Never mind all that, with the beauty in my hands, escaping was the priority. I hailed a cab and gave him my address. As the driver stepped on the gas, I glanced back to see a black luxurious car just pulling up where I had been, with one of those two guys getting out. Damn, that was close. Once home, I gave the driver all the money I had, still owing him a dollar; he gave me a disdainful look before driving off. I carried Michelle into my house. I lived on the east side of town, in my parents' old large house. My uncle didn't like it because it used to be a warehouse, which worked out for me, as there was no one to regulate me. I placed Michelle on my bed and rushed out to relieve myself. Almost didn't make it earlier. When I returned, she was still out cold. No idea what those guys gave her, but I figured she wouldn't be waking up that night. Relieved, I decided to take a closer look up close. Standing by the bed, I genuinely marveled at her beauty. Before, I only knew she had big eyes, but now I saw her long eyelashes too, and her skin was so fair. Her body was just perfect, everything was proportioned as it should be. She was wearing a dress, and I gently took off her shoes, sneakily inching up her dress bit by bit (why the heck was I nervous), confirming my suspicion that the two guys had indeed taken off her underwear. Telling myself it was just one look, I cautiously undressed her. Summer clothes being what they are, light and minimal, I had her stripped down in three quick moves under the guise of "just looking." I don't know if you've ever had something you longed for suddenly placed in front of you, leaving you at a loss on what to do next. I stared at Michelle's body for a good five minutes before making up my mind: "Screw it, come what may; if I'm to be executed tomorrow, I'll still have my fill tonight." With that thought, I cast aside all hesitation, stripped, and jumped right in. Michelle remained unresponsive, but my reaction was getting stronger... The next morning, I woke up first, looking down at Michelle still sound asleep in my arms. Calmer now, I had no clue how to explain things to her. Whatever, we'd cross that bridge when we got there. Eventually, Michelle woke up, reaching around to confirm she was in a man's arms, causing her to sit up in shock, presenting her breathtaking upper body. "Where am I?" she asked. "My place," I replied coolly. "Yesterday, at Shuanglong, I saw two guys d**g you, so I got you out. Not knowing where you lived, I brought you here. But to my surprise, you started... and undressing. I couldn't control myself and..." I began to fabricate a story, knowing that last night's events were known only to me; what I said was the only "truth." Michelle, recalling her memories, remembered being drugged but had no recollection beyond that, leading her to believe my story. Not expecting it to be so easy, I regretted not waking earlier for another round. After dressing, she turned to me, saying, "I hope yesterday remains unmentioned, and I don't want to pursue it further. What's past is past. I'll try to forget you and everything about last night." With that, she left without looking back. "Damn, is it that easy to forget? They say a day's couplehood leads to a hundred days of grace, but you are utterly heartless," I thought, throwing off the covers to get up. But the sight of crimson on the sheets caught my eye, "Michelle, about last night—can we truly forget it like you said? I think not."