-------------------------------------------------------------
The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.
The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
Author's Note: The following story is a work of fiction. All characters having sex in the foreground are at least 18 years of age. This story contains graphic depictions of rape, violence, religious bigotry, living in the 90's, and drug use. The author does not condone any of these except for living in the 90's. There's something great about not filming all of your felonies.
Viewer Discretion is Advised.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Index:
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
-------------------------------------------------------------
Title: Bob and the Mean Girls, Redux
Author: Lt. Broccoli
Chapter Tags: MF, MFF, FF, MF+/F, con, ncon, bond, drugs
Content Warnings: Descriptions of off-screen child abuse in the later chapters
-------------------------------------------------------------
This story was originally published in 2020 on RavishU. It takes place in the Harbor City Universe along with The Club and Pharma, amongst others. The sections taking place in modern times were added years later when I rewrote the story to abide by new site rules on character ages. There are some places where the story may feel awkward, almost like Bob was purposely describing something wrong. I had to find a way to make a square peg fit in a round hole. This story is fundamental to the HCU, as, well, you'll see as you go along.
Enjoy...
-------------------------------------------------------------
Bob and the Mean Girls, Redux
Chapter 1
Bob hated lawyers. But then again, they were a necessary evil. When he couldn’t solve a problem by brute force, threats, or simply paying off the people involved, that’s when he had to resort to their kind. He’s always needed lawyers, whether he’d admit it or not. When he was a young man, he had as need for criminal attorneys. As he grew older, wiser, and a little more powerful, those needs morphed into corporate lawyers, real estate lawyers, and intellectual property lawyers. Sure, the occasional criminal issue would crop up from time to time, but for the most part, he was a different man now.
Robert “Bob” Kuntzmann entered the conference room. A conference room in a building he owned and built, and approached the table that he made, from wood that he harvested from trees that he felled where this building now stands. He looked around at the dozen suits sitting around the table. He knew almost all of them. His legal team. The sharpest minds in the tristate area. He walked around the room, cutting an imposing figure. A man in his 50’s, he was a hair short of 6 feet tall, and his once barrel-chested physique had morphed into that of a retired powerlifter who packed on the weight but didn’t lose it. The grey hair was short at this age, showing off a bald spot he long ago stopped caring about. The mustache and beard were closely cropped, with a slight hint of chestnut brown in it. His weight hovered around three hundred pounds, but he carried himself with a lightness not expected for his size and age. He decided to dress up for the occasion, wearing a dress shirt and suit, but skipped the tie. He was in a position in life where ties were always optional now. He hated them for both practical and personal reasons, and felt they looked more like chains or leashes than a status symbol. He learned many years ago that the first step in fighting a man wearing a tie was to grab it and choke them with it, then lead them head first into a tree or wall by it. No ties for him.
As he pulled out his chair, the other lawyers stood. Bob looked around the room. 12 lawyers, 6 on each side. 8 men, 4 women. He knew all but two of them by name. The two newest sat at opposite ends from each other. One young man sat at the far end of the table and bore a striking resemblance to his corporate lawyer, Kenneth. Probably his son. The other new face sat right next to him.
“Hello, I don’t think we’ve met yet. Bob.” Bob said, extending his hand.
“Cameron. Cameron Nicholls.” The brunette woman extended her hand for a shake. Bob was tempted to kiss it, but decided to just shake it for now. He took her in, dressed in a very smart and very flattering dress suit. He smiled a smile at her that has worked thousands of times in his life, and if she wasn’t careful would work again.
Bob turned to the cadre of lawyers and sat down, the rest of the lawyers following his lead. He let his eyes linger on Cameron’s body for a moment, taking in her curves before the old man sitting next to her spoke up.
“Mr. Kuntzmann, thank you for meeting us on such short notice. We know that your time is precious, but there are several matters that require your attention and direction on how to proceed.” Carl Rothsberg said. He must’ve been 75 if he were a day over 20. Everything about his dress and demeanor screamed ‘high priced lawyer’, and he was the head of Bob’s legal team.
“Well, I read your email. Everything seems pretty cut and dry. The property expansions, new work down south, and a some squabbles and disputes over things like trademarks that are easy enough to handle. But then you mentioned something that could be of a ‘personal nature’ from my past. What’s that about?” Bob looked around the room, and noticed that Cynthia Hernandez, a lawyer who specialized in solving unusual problems, shifted her gaze. “What is it, Cyndi?” Bob said, catching her movements and seeing her cringe a little. She hated it when he called her Cyndi.
“Well Bob, there’s no polite or easy way to put this. Someone wrote a couple books about you and we need to get in front of them before the movie gets made.”
Bob sat there for a moment, taking it all in.
“A book? What’s it about?” He asked.
Cynthia sat for a moment, pulling up a document on her tablet. “A trilogy of books, actually. It’s a tale about a ne’er-do-well falling in love with a young woman at a religious themed summer camp. The young woman falls for this man, but her family is against it and runs the camp. Things take a turn when friends of the girl fall for each other in a forbidden romance.”
“Let me guess, they’re lesbians.” Bob said, cutting her off.
“Yes.” Cynthia nodded.
“And the girls and guy team up to stop the family that’s running the camp by doing some fucked up shit to the girl and her friends to teach them a lesson, and then the girl and guy end up together, partners in crime.” Bob, slightly annoyed.
“That’s book one, ‘The Cabin of Longing.’ Book two is ‘The Township of Loathing’, and the final installment was ‘The Forest of Lenience.’”
“I’ve heard about those, my wife has copies of them, can’t put them down.” Another lawyer, Jason Briggs said. “It’s kind of messed up what Billy and Amy do to Natasha at the end.”
Bob looks at Jason, then back at Cynthia. “Who wrote it?”
“Minerva Menzie. It’s on the New York Times Bestseller List.” Jason blurted out, forgetting that Bob was asking Cynthia.
“Who the fuck is Minerva Menzie?”
“That’s the pen name for Wendy Hutchinson.” Cynthia said that name, as though Bob might recognize it.
“Huh?” Bob said dumbly.
“Wendy Hutchinson, formerly Wendy Daniels.”
“Shit. You mean…”
Cynthia finished Bob’s thought for him. “That’s correct. She was a member of the Daniels Family. She came to the camp for a while, observed things, then left. She was a few years behind her cousins and was a bit of a black sheep. A self-described ‘fat band geek’, she left the area to go to school in Montana of all places in the early 2000’s. Figured that hiding in the middle of nowhere meant that no one suspicious could show up unannounced. She escaped the worst of it, but paid enough attention to what happened. She’s written a few other books about what she went through, but this series is her biggest to date.”
Bob sat back in his chair, a look of concern growing over his visage. “Have you talked to her?”
“Yes.” Cynthia replied. “I’ve spoken to her a few times, seeing what she knows and doesn’t know. She was adamant that this story was fictional, and that they didn’t happen in real life, but once she found out who you are, her tune changed. She agreed to change some of the details in the later stories, obfuscate details, and change names when she could. No one outside of this room would know that William ‘Billy’ Friedrich is Robert Kuntzmann unless they lived through it.”
“These books have been out for a while, why bring this up now?” Jason asked Cynthia.
“Because the stories have been licensed to Netflix. They’re going to be turned into either movies or a TV show. We need to be ready for anything that happens.” Cynthia said.
“And since this could affect all of the operations, I…” Carl looked around the room, getting everyone’s attention before continuing. “We decided that it was important to know what we’re walking into. A series on Netflix could draw interest from rabid fans, and if they discover the parallels between this show and what you’ve built here, it could cause some serious legal jeopardy.”
“And that’s why all y’all are here?” Bob said. Carl nodded.
“Yes, Mr. Kuntzmann. Some of us are already familiar with parts of this story, how you built your business and some of your dealings before this. But others, like my grandson Kyle over there or Ms. Nicholls, are unfamiliar with your history. Since this affects all parts of your business empire, I feel that we all need as much information as possible. As always, attorney-client privilege is in effect. Anything you say here can only be used here for our knowledge in better serving you. Is this acceptable to you?”
Bob sat there for a moment, feeling an anger build up in him. He quickly squelched that, realizing that not only would lashing out hurt him, but he could use this and them to his advantage.
“Only one camera, the footage stays offline, and whomever it stays with protects it with their life. Am I understood?” Bob said. Everyone looked around the table, nervous. Carl then spoke up.
“Agreed. The footage will stay with me until such time as it can be destroyed, and you will be witness to it’s destruction. I know how grave that promise can be.” Carl said. He took off his glasses to clean them, then looked around the room, finding one of the younger lawyers. “Let’s set this up.”
A few minutes later, a camera was set up on the table facing Bob and he was wired with a lavaliere microphone. A bottle of water sat by his side.
After giving the camera his name and personal information, Bob regaled his legal team with the tale of how he became embroiled with the Daniels Family, and how the Summer of 1995 became the Summer of the Mean Girls.
1995
The camp had been running for a couple years, but they were still figuring things out. Back then it had some vaguely Indian name like Camp Winnebago or some shit like that. It was a religious camp, but they didn't slap that shit on the brochures back then. They'd dog whistle it the best they could to outsiders but screamed it to their parishioners. Those first couple years they'd have three main types of kids coming. There were the groups that would come for a couple weeks while Mommy and Daddy went on a real vacation or moved and wanted their little monsters out of the way for a bit. There were the kids that were sent for half the summer because their parents could afford a little better and wanted a trip overseas but didn't want to take their kids on "missions". Then there were the kids that came for the whole summer, whose parents could both afford the full time away and wanted to show how pious they were by sending little Tiffany to bible camp all summer. Or, they didn't want their 'whore of a daughter' talking to her boyfriend.
That last group was Bob's favorite. Mommy and Daddy would be so shocked that their little girls even knew what a penis was that they'd send them away for the whole summer to keep her from holding hands with her little dipshit boyfriend, but by the end of summer she's coming back either an expert cocksucker or muff diver. Sometimes both.
The girls would congregate together throughout the day, and in between the bible study, basket weaving, swimming, and learning how to hate gays and anyone else different from them, they'd form cliques and start exploring. The ones that were told they were whores by their parents would always get together and find a way to explore the area. They'd form their own little clubs, and would find new and interesting ways to have fun. It wasn't until many years later he had a name for their type: Mean Girls.
Bob met 1995's crop of Mean Girls less than a week after the session started for the year. He missed the opening of the camp that year due to work, but made his way to his cabin, showing up Thursday night. He knew something was wrong when he showed up and everything was a little messy. Not terribly messy, but just out of place. Like someone had been there. And the mini fridge where he kept his beer was empty. Sure, he brought some more, but he was looking forward to getting really fucked up this weekend, not slightly. He'd have to make another trip to the store. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd find out who was coming over.
He was lucky. Sometime close to midnight, while he was having a drink, the door to his cabin opened. He waited for her to close the door, then decided to introduce himself.
"Who in the fuck are you?" Bob clicked on a mag light and shone it at ... her. There in his cabin stood a gorgeous teenage girl, about 5 and a half feet tall with a cute face, curly brown hair, and a body that screamed 'fuck me'. The girl screamed at first from surprise, not expecting anyone to be here. Bob got up from his couch and grabbed the girl.
"Who the fuck are you?" He asked her. "What's your name?"
"Angie. Angie Lewis." He pulled her away from the door and to the center of the cabin's main room. She stood in front of his couch.
"Stay there, Angie." Bob turned on the battery lamp he kept on the table. With some light, he was able to get a better look at her, and she at him.
Angie wore a light blue t-shirt from the local camp and a pair of matching blue shorts. The shorts were loose and came down to her mid thighs. The t-shirt covered an amazing set of tits on a teenager, and her face was even cuter with her hazel eyes and dimples. Her hair was pulled up and back with a scrunchee, or whatever those big hair ties were called back then. She was just starting to tan, her arms and legs showing a nice bronze sheen. She looked damn hot.
Bob wasn't a bad looking guy, either. His full brown hair was cut short and combed back, and his skin was tanned from working in the sun all day. He was shirtless, which showed off some his muscles. He had a little gut, but beer does that over time. He wore his jeans and boots, and that's it.
They looked each other up and down. Bob liked what he saw, and he had a feeling so did she.
"So, mind telling me why you broke into my place and drank my beer?" Bob asked Angie, as he walked closer to her.
"I didn't know it was yours, or that anyone lived here." Angie stammered out an answer, obviously afraid.
"How old are you Angie?"
"18." Angie replied. Bob nodded, thinking where this could go.
"You owe me at least a case of beer. How you gonna pay me back?"
"Look, I can get some money."
"How you gonna pay me back for a case of beer? Better yet, how you gonna get back here tonight and get me more beer? You got a car up at that camp?"
"No."
"So, what are you gonna do? Walk the 10 miles to the nearest store, dressed in the camp's clothes, and buy a case of beer while obviously underage, then walk back the ten miles all before sunrise?" Angie stood there, realizing she was screwed. Bob went in for the verbal kill. "How's that camp gonna react if they find out one of their campers was breaking into my place and drinking my beer? They gonna like that at all?"
Angie shook her head. "Look, there's gotta be something we can do. Some kind of deal. I'll do anything, just don't turn me in."
There it was. He was hoping for this girl to say the magic words.
"Anything?" Bob was real close to her now. Close enough to smell her shampoo. Close enough to reach out and kiss her if he wanted to. He put his finger under her chin and lifted her face towards his. "Anything?" He repeated. Their eyes locked.
"Anything." She said softly. He leaned in and kissed her. Lightly at first, then deeper. They started making out. He reached for her shirt and pulled it up, then over her head. They broke their kissing just long enough to take it off. Doing so exposed her bra, holding back some amazing tits.
Angie was young, but not an idiot. Just naive, he figured. Her definition of anything before tonight might be dealing with her teenage boyfriend and letting him feel her tits. Bob's definition of everything was more.
Bob moved Angie to the couch and sat her down on top of him. He deftly unclasped her bra while they were making out and slid it off of her body. He rubbed and played with her tits. He broke off kissing her and started nibbling on her neck, then down to her tits. He sucked and licked on her nipples. He did this for another minute before rolling her off of him and laying her down on the couch. His hands grabbed at her shorts. Angie's eyes went wide.
"Wait, stop. What're you doing?" She said as she felt Bob lift her ass off of the couch and pull her shorts off, exposing her pink panties. He pulled the shorts off over her sneakers.
"No, stop it, don't." Angie pleaded with him, showing a little fear.
"Babe, you think playing with your tits is gonna make up for stealing from me?" Angie looked at him, not sure what to say. "Babe, we're gonna do this my way. I won't hurt you. Hell, you'll love it and want more. But this is gonna happen." Bob slipped his hands under the waistband of her panties and pulled them off. Angie's bush was a dark brown just like her hair, and trimmed into a bikini cut. "Damn, you're beautiful babe."
Bob slipped Angie's legs open while she was still unsure of what was going to happen. She wasn't a virgin, but not really experienced, either. Bob slipped his head down to her pussy and spread her labia with his right hand. He kissed and licked around her pussy, exciting and enticing her the whole time. He'd kiss and lick, listening to her breathing deepen into a moan and watching her stomach rise and fall with each breath.
"Ever been eaten out?"
"Nnnn, no." Angie said between breaths.
"You ain't seen nothing yet." With that, Bob found her clit with his tongue and went to town on it. He flicked and sucked and nibbled on it, then started writing on it with his tongue. That did it. Angie's legs stiffened, she grabbed his head with her hands and pulled his face into her as much as it would go. Her breathing became a moan, and her moans became a yell.
"AAAAHHHH, OH GOD OH GOD OOOOHHH GODDDD!" She screamed as she had the most intense orgasm of her life. She relaxed her grip on Bob's head, but he stayed down there for another minute. He undid his jeans and lowered his pants while he kept eating her out. Another minute and she was rocked with another orgasm from Bob eating her out.
As she lay panting on his couch with her hands still in Bob's hair, he slid up from between her legs and put himself into position. She was still in a post-orgasmic trance when she felt him mount her and slide his penis between her outer folds. She was not expecting this. Bob planted his lips on Angie and kissed her hard as he pushed into her.
Bob could see it in her eyes. She didn't want to take things this far. She just met him a few minutes ago. She didn't even know his name, and not only had he just licked her pussy, but now he was fucking her. But he wasn't stopping. He slid his dick into her a couple inches, rested, then pulled out an inch. He repeated this pattern until all 7 inches were inside her. After a minute, he was in her and began thrusting with long and slow strokes.
Her attempts at getting him to stop died down, her asking him to stop gave way as the pleasure he generated in her took over. After a few minutes, she didn't notice or care that she was kissing a man who had her taste on his mouth. Some moments later and she was wrapping her legs around him, trying to bring him deeper into her. She gave over to passion as she came again, this time from from an actual fuck.
Hearing Angie cum brought him to the edge. He fucked her harder and faster than before. Bob was about to cum.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck." Bob reared up, pulled out, and came all over her belly. He shot several jets of semen all over her, even getting some on her tits. He collapsed on the couch next to Angie. As she was coming back to reality, she looked around for something to wipe his cum off of her.
"Here." Bob handed her an old t-shirt of his laying over the edge of the couch. She took the shirt and cleaned herself up as best she could. After a minute Bob grabbed a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag. Angie tried to cover herself up with the old shirt as she looked for her clothes. He offered her the smoke. She took a drag and held it in, then coughed.
"Any time you wanna come over and party, you can. Just know that we're gonna have some fun. Cool with that?" He handed her the cigarette again. She nodded then took another drag.
"Yeah. I think I'm getting what you mean. Can you get something other than beer?" Angie didn't cough as much after that drag.
"Wine coolers?" Bob asked her.
"Yeah, we can try that. You staying up here this weekend?" Angie asked him, curling up next to him.
"Yeah. What time you need to be back at the camp?"
"Oh shit, it's late isn't it?" With that, Angie sprung up from the couch and looked for her clothes. They didn't go far, but she struggled as she almost put her shorts and underwear on backwards. After a minute she was dressed. Bob pulled his jeans up and met her at the cabin door before she left.
"I'll be here most weekends from Thursday night until Sunday night. If you want to party again, I can get more than just wine coolers." He grabbed her head with his left hand and gave her another deep kiss. They made out like that for a couple minutes before they separated, her cheeks flushed again.
"Bye." Angie said to him as she opened the door.
"Bob. That's my name. See ya around." The realization that she just fucked a complete stranger shown on her face, but he wiped it away with one last kiss. He watched her disappear into the woods towards the camp, admiring her ass as she went.
-------------------------------------------------------------
To Be Continued...
