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Standard disclaimers apply; this story may or may not contain, in any
given part, graphic depictions of lesbianism, homosexuality, group sex,
bdsm, underage (teen) sex, magic, occultism, violence, and biting 
sarcasm.  If you're underage, or if for any other reason it's illegal 
for you to read this, or you're disturbed by the content, please don't 
read it.

Archived at, and we've got a web-forum at as well, for discussion of both
Prudence and our other stories. Send an email to and
I'll add you to the mailing list to be notified when Prudence

Comments *greatly* appreciated.



When Mark arrived at the school that morning, there was a lot of whispering
and gossiping going on. He was concerned, at first, that he'd been too
obvious when Kristen got hurt, but no one was inclined to exclude him from
the gossip this time, and it was with mixed emotions that he learned that,
for a change, Kristen wasn't a part of the current rumor-mill at all.
Relief, of course, but unease, too, because the subject matter was more
than a bit disturbing.

It seemed that a dead dog was found on the school's front lawn. It
definitely didn't die of natural causes. Details varied, but a consistent
theme was that the animal was mutilated. Exactly how varied from tale to
tale. Mark's history teacher friend, Jack Brenner, was a goldmine of
information. It turned out that the student who'd found the animal first
had gone immediately to Mr. Brenner, who was a favorite among the students,
so Jack had actually seen it. The dog had been dismembered, hacked apart
with an axe or machete or some such, and partially skinned. It also looked
like both eyes had been burned out.

According to further rumor, this wasn't the first thing of this nature to
turn up this year, though for the most part, they'd been found in open
fields or abandoned lots, that sort of thing.  That went a ways towards
explaining why the sheriff had been so willing to come out personally on
such scanty suspicion the night before. 

There didn't _seem_ to be any connection between the incident and Kristen
or the dreams, but it made Mark nervous, anyway. He didn't see anything he
could do to make her safe that he wasn't already doing, though, so, with
difficulty, he tried to keep his mind on his work. Another bit of news, of
a more official sort, was that Superintendent Stegar was returning to
Prudence ISD next week. Up to now, he'd been working at Leilana ISD. The
two schools shared a superintendent, since both of them were so small. Mark
wondered if he'd have any trouble with the man -- he was getting away with
a lot, at the moment, after all -- so he started quietly checking around.

The impression he got from the other teachers, as well as the students, was
that Stegar was, in their words, laid back. A nice guy. Smart. A good
Christian. Loaded.  It was an interesting combination, and he decided to
check with Steven when he went home for lunch.

"Stegar?" Steven said, when he asked. "I don't know him that well, but I've
never had a problem with him."

Mark nodded. "Okay. I was just wondering if he was likely to cause a
problem -- I suspect I've gotten more leeway than I'd expect since Ward's
afraid of you."

"Hopefully, there won't be a problem," Steven said. "He'll only be here a
month, anyway, then gone for another month. Hard to do much harm like

Mark nodded in agreement and went to find Kristen. She was curled up on the
couch in the living room, fast asleep, and looking gaunt and tired. He
reached down and brushed a bit of hair back from her face, and she stirred.

"Mmmm?" she murmured, then smiled weakly up at him. "Hi, lover. Carry me

He grinned at her. "Ready for..." he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively,


Tenderly, he scooped her up and carried her to her bed.

The task of feeding her proved to be quite complicated, though. It was hard
to accomplish anything satisfying without hurting her ankle, and she
finally settled for giving him a really nice blowjob. When she was done,
she looked better, physically, but didn't seem particularly happy.

He pulled her up and into his arms. "What's wrong?"

Kristen sighed. "I know it's silly, but... doing it like this, where it
seems like it's _just_ a necessity... ick. It just... shouldn't be that
way. Not with you."

Mark leaned over and kissed her, softly, licking at her lips. "I didn't
think it was just a necessity, love. I really enjoyed it."

She smiled at him lovingly. "But if you didn't _have_ to, though, you
wouldn't be here. If you thought I'd be okay without it, you wouldn't have
done this."

He gave her a little smile. "Only because I wouldn't have had the nerve to
leave work to do it. I would still have _wanted_ to," he assured her.

"I know it's a lot of trouble," she said softly, looking down. "I _am_

"I'm not," he said firmly. "I _love_ you, Kristen, and I like to spend time
with you." He grinned. "And you give _wonderful_ blowjobs."

She cuddled up and kissed his chest, smiling now. "I love you, too. Carry
me back downstairs before you go? I can sit on the couch in Daddy's office
and draw. I really don't want to be alone."

He left her happily ensconced on the couch with sketchbook, pencils, warm
blanket, and comfy pillows when he had to go back to work.

Deciding that their lunchtime difficulties in lovemaking could benefit from
another viewpoint,  he invited Kayla over after school. She happily
accepted, and it proved to be a very good idea. Kristen was happy to see
both of them, and though it'd only been a few hours since her 'lunch', she
was already looking gaunt. Kayla was particularly clever at finding ways
around Kristen's current handicap, as well as lightening the mood and
making her see it all as funny rather than pitiful. Between the two of
them, they even managed to make Kristen come, though not as frequently or
as easily as she did when she _wasn't_ on darvocette.  After a bit more
than three hours, Kristen was glowing enough that she wouldn't need a
lunchtime 'feeding' the next day. After helping make Kayla come the final
time, Kristen lay her head on the girl's chest, smiling happily. 

She closed her eyes for just a minute, and ended up falling asleep, still
cradled against Kayla's breast and glowing prettily. Mark looked down at
her, a touch worried, but she was still on pain pills, she hadn't been
sleeping worth a damn, and it had been a long, miserable day for her.
Deciding it was really perfectly understandable and that she needed the
sleep, he tucked the blanket around her and slid into bed beside Kayla.

He offered to move her off of Kayla, but the girl waved him away. "She's
okay where she is. I have to go pretty soon, anyway, and I like holding
her. We should be quiet, but I think she's pretty much dead to the world
right now."

Mark nodded. "Poor thing," he said, reaching over to stroke Kristen's hair

"Yeah. Did you actually see what happened, Mark?" Kayla asked. Last night,
she'd stayed focused on the most pressing problem, but he should have
expected her to ask about the accident eventually. "_Was_ it an accident?"
Her tone was decidedly suspicious.

He sighed, shaking his head. "I didn't see it. It could have been... or it
could have _not_ been. I don't know." He pursed his lips. "I _do_ know
there's a tracking device in her cast -- but I don't think even _she_
realizes that. She was in the car when I discussed it with Steven, but she
wasn't exactly paying attention."

Kayla nodded. "I don't think she has a real high pain-threshold, actually.
I mean, she's never been sick, never had a toothache or anything. Never
even had a headache. Never seemed to fall or anything when we were kids,
even. This is her very first broken bone. It was probably a serious shock
to her that anything could hurt that bad."

He rubbed a silky red-gold curl between his fingers. "Poor baby. It'd be
nice if she healed faster when she glowed." He glanced at Kayla hopefully.
"I don't suppose anything you read would have said anything about that?"

"Honestly," Kayla said, "I'd kinda think she'd heal faster than a human no
matter what. And that glow seems to be a big indicator that she's got...
um... 'energy' I guess... to spare."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Good point."

"By the way," she asked, "Didn't you come home to her at lunch?"

"Yeah, but all we were able to manage was a blowjob."

"Still... should she have looked _that_ bad?" she asked.

"Hmmm... another good point. Maybe her foot will be healed sooner than we
expect, then."

"Either that or the pain eats up her energy faster than she'd normally
spend it," Kayla said with a frown.

He shrugged. "Who knows? We don't have any data to work from yet." He
sighed with a touch of frustration, then reached out to stroke Kayla's
cheek. "You know something?"

"Hmmmm?" she asked, leaning into the caress.

"I'm really glad you slipped up and said what you said."

She grinned. "Well... it still counts as one of my most

"But look what it got you," he said, his soft gaze moving over to Kristen.
"Look what it got us all..."

Kayla looked at him seriously. "Not saying I would change it if I could.
Definitely not. But I _still_ can't believe I actually said that out loud.
I've always been so damned careful about things like that... anyway, I'm
glad I did, too."

He leaned over, kissing her softly, careful not to disturb Kristen. She
returned the kiss, just as carefully, then sighed. "Now _this_ I hate to
say, and really wish I didn't have to, but... I've got to get home."

Mark nodded just as regretfully. "Damned shame. But I suppose your parents
would object if you told them you wanted to spend the night with your
underage girlfriend and the teacher who she secretly married."

Kayla laughed. "Honestly, they might not. But they would say, 'Not on a
school night, dear.' Or even worse, 'We want to meet them, bring them to
dinner on Sunday!'"

Mark cowered in mock fear. "No! Not that! Not... DINNER!"

She giggled.  "You laugh, but you've never had to eat with _my_ family.
Believe me... it's a fate worse than death."

He raised an eyebrow. "It can't be _that_ bad."

"I swear to you, Mark," she said, shaking her head, "that I have the
weirdest family in the entire world. I love them, but... they're just
flat-out strange. Remember Kristen's hairless cat? Well, as cat _dander_
and not cat _hair_ is what causes allergies, he needed a home. My mother
named him 'fuzzywuzzy'. They paint his toenails every week."

"I... see," he said slowly.

"But, my little brother calls him 'Teddy' because..."

"Because?" he asked, almost dreading the answer.

"Because... 'fuzzywuzzy wuz a bear'," she said with a sigh.

He winced. "Ouch."

"But that's _NOTHING_ compared to the little toupee my father made him."

Mark winced again, but smiled. "I think I'd like your family."

She shook her head. "Just... no. There are some things you shouldn't have
to face unless you're born to them. A hairless cat with purple toenails and
a curly blond wig is one of them."

Mark snickered, then pouted. "What, you're ashamed of us?" He pretended to
be on the verge of tears.

She grinned. "Nope. Just terrified they'd scare you off."

He shook his head. "I doubt that would happen."

"I'd rather play it safe, thanks," she said. "Besides, I don't think they'd
be very good at keeping secrets."

He nodded. "Good point." He sighed. "I'm really looking forward to when
y'all turn 17. Speaking of which, when's your birthday?"

"Next week, actually. October 6th."

He looked thoughtful. "Oh really."

"Yep. I'll be a teensy bit less illegal," she said, grinning.

"Heh. Yeah, right. I really doubt it would matter."

"Well, Bubba might use a bit of lube if your 'victim' was fifteen instead
of fourteen, anyway," she said thoughtfully.

He snorted.

Kayla smiled down at Kristen. "Should we wake her?"

He shook his head. "Let me tuck her in and tell Steven we're leaving, and
I'll take you home."

"You sure?" she asked, sounding worried. "She's been real odd about being
alone this past week.  She won't even go to the bathroom by herself at

He frowned. He hadn't known about that. "Hmm. Good point. Yeah, let's ask


If you like this, you might want to take a look at Strange Love, an
e-zine of sf/fantasy/paranormal erotica. The first issue is on sale
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Take a look!

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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