6 Times a Day

Chapter 1023 Heather And Her Influence

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Current Patreon Members

Silver Tier:

William Osborne

Broze Tier:

Danial Haxton, Tangents, Carlos Heredia

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Alan left Glory early because he wanted to check on Heather and see if his "treatment" was working on her or not. His desire to find this out was so strong and his opportunities to make contact with her before school ended were so limited that he decided to do something he'd never done at school before: visit Heather while she resided at her "throne."

Back in the days when Alan ate lunch in the school cafeteria, he knew the "rules" of cafeteria seating reasonably well, and he was sure they hadn't changed in the two months since he'd stopped going there. All the different social cliques had their different zones in the cafeteria, and few ever sat down in or even lingered within the territory of a clique one did not belong to. Heather, naturally, sat at the most prestigious table in the school elite zone.

Alan, thanks to all of his romantic and sexual successes, didn't belong in the nerd zone anymore, but he also didn't belong in the elite zone, as he hadn't put in the time and kissed enough asses to become one of the elites, and he didn't know anyone in the large group of "unaffiliated" students to feel comfortable there either, or with any other group, for that matter. One of the reasons why he no longer ate at the school cafeteria or even visited there much was that he didn't know where he belonged anymore. If he did eat lunch away from Glory, he preferred to be one of the few who sat outside in the sun, especially since Katherine and Amy usually sat there these days (they didn't like the clique battles, either).

So it was a bold move when he simply walked right up to Heather's table and sat down next to her, squeezing in to make room for himself. She was surrounded by her usual flunkies, all gorgeous babes that he had admired from afar at one time or another. But aside from Simone, who was sitting right next to Heather, he knew very few of them by name (other cheerleaders like Kim and Joy sat at a table near Heather's table - not even any of them were "worthy" of sitting at Heather's table, mostly because they hadn't sucked up to her enough lately). In recent weeks, a couple of the girls at the table had chatted him up, fishing for a date invitation, but he'd turned them all down, since he already had more women that he could handle.

Aside from Simone, and Heather's friend and main rival Donna, the table was a uniform sea of tanned skins, daringly exposed cleavage, and blonde heads (usually bottle-enhanced). Simone felt awkward and unwanted at times as the only black girl in the entire female school elite, and often sensed derision from her other black friends, but her love-hate friendship with Heather was so important to her that it overrode all other concerns.

Alan's move was so unexpected that a hush fell over the dozen or so girls at Heather's table (though he was pleased to see people at the other tables were too busy with their own boisterous activities to pay any notice).

Heather, though, seemed oblivious to the possibility that he might be doing something unusual. She merely gave him a friendly smile and cheerfully said, "Hiya! What's up, Sir?"

Alan looked at her more closely. She had a very unusual facial expression. On one hand, she had the glazed over look of a happy drunk. But on the other hand, she wore a grimace, as if she had a bad case of hemorrhoids. He knew that the Bitch Trainer was the cause of both facial expressions, but to see the two looks coexist on one face was odd, to say the least.

Further, she was obviously sexually aroused because her nipples were poking through her peach-colored top even more than usual. He could tell she wasn't wearing a bra, since he'd commanded her not to the day before. He made a mental note to finally look into how she so flagrantly violated the school's dress code, day after day.

The other girls were all staring intently at Alan and Heather and obviously trying to puzzle out this unwanted intrusion. The mere fact that Heather didn't reflexively freeze him out of the area and send him packing with her usual haughty sneer helped confirm for the other girls that the two of them had some kind of special relationship. Few had any doubts something sexual was going on. But the exact nature of their relationship still remained mysterious, and the fact that Heather had just called him "sir" without any apparent sarcasm or irony greatly deepened the mystery. So they all erred on the side of caution and didn't say anything.

Alan didn't want Heather's flunkies to overhear, so with a few discreet comments, he got Heather and Simone to stand up and walk far enough away from the table for them to have some privacy.

Then he asked Heather in a low voice, "How's it going?"

"Good!" She said brightly, gazing at him intently. "You're the best! ... Uh, Sir!" She giggled at that. "But it's so sad..." Her appearance completely changed as she said this last bit, and her face turned forlorn as if she recalled her puppy being run over.

He realized he'd never seen her quite like this before. It was as if he was talking to a child. He asked, "What's sad?"

Still with an exaggerated mournfulness, Heather explained, "I heard about what those guys tried to do to you this morning. That's just wrong! I'll tell you, they're going to regret it. Just you wait and see."

He was pleased that she seemed a bit more coherent as she said that, and thought, Wow, she actually cares about me a bit?

But then she spaced out entirely and gazed off across the room.

He wanted answers and fast, so he turned to Simone and asked her in a low voice, "What's happening here?"

Simone murmured back, quiet enough that not even Heather could hear, "As you can see, Heather's kind of spacing out at the moment. It's the Bitch Trainer. It's the only thing she'll talk to me about, practically, when she's actually talking. Most of the time she's happy just to smile and enjoy whatever it's doing to her."

"Wow. I didn't think she'd be affected THAT strongly."

"Me either," Simone admitted. "I can only hope that she'll get used to it soon enough, or else she's going to turn into some kind of living Barbie bimbo airhead."

"Dang. That's not what I want. I'm going to have to work on this and, I guess, try to fine tune things. As usual, she's so frigging high maintenance. But is she with it enough to do something about the football players?"

"Kind of. We've been talking about it a bit, but we haven't had much time and she's just not concentrating that much. Or rather, she is, but not on that topic, if you catch my drift. But we sent the word through the grapevine to find out more, and we've already learned that the problem seems to be with just the defensive linemen. Apparently they're a really tight group. They're all such big motherfuckers they think they can do anything and get away with it."

Simone didn't bother to mask her distaste of them in the slightest. "The rest of the football team seems to be in complete disarray after the suspensions last week and everything. And remember how Heather sowed all kinds of dissent over the weekend? Well that seems to be working, especially since our team got creamed so badly Friday night on the field."

Alan just looked blankly at Simone. "They did? I thought they won just about all their games."

"You mean you haven't heard about Friday's game?!" Simone incredulously rolled her eyes at Alan. "Your sister's a cheerleader, your 'official' girlfriend's a cheerleader, you've got the head cheerleader's ASS wrapped around your dick half the time, and you STILL haven't heard about the most humiliating loss by our football team since, like, ever?!"

Alan, for once, didn't have anything to say. He looked over at Heather's vacant expression, then his eyes drifted down to her lightly jiggling breasts. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked back at Simone.

Simone imperiously held up a hand to forestall any protests of cluelessness on his part. "Never mind. Look, all you need to know is that except for this one group of about eight players, Heather's got them all pretty much pussy whipped into submission. They can't play as a team to save their lives because she's got them at each other's throats, after all the mind games she's played on them lately."

"Ah. Wow."

"Yeah. A pretty neat trick, eh?" Simone flashed her beautiful ivory teeth in a predatory grin before turning serious again.

Alan checked out her busty chest and noted that she at least continued to wear a bra, although it appeared her nipples had gotten hard since she'd started talking to him. He forced his eyes back up to her face as she continued to speak.

Simone noticed where his eyes wandered and felt a flicker of pride that he preferred to look at her charms instead of Heather, standing very close by. "But there's still those eight at least, taking advantage of the fact that about half the male student body either envies or hates you, what with all these rumors going around about you. You should especially watch out for a couple of unusually big guys, Ryan and Jerry, who seem to be the ringleaders. You know them?"

Alan let his eyes drift back down to her inspirational rack, but said seriously, "I unfortunately met, uh, Ryan, I think, today on the stairs, and Jerry is in my first-period class. He's a total ass; he always sits in the back and keeps his head down so he won't get called on. But both of them are like walking refrigerators. They make the guy who clocked me last week look small, so, needless to say, I'm hoping things won't get violent. What's Heather doing about them?"

Simone glanced over at Heather, who was still zoned out. "Not much. Except that she's already put the word out that they should be treated like social pariahs. We didn't even explain why; we just told everyone to treat them like shit, and at least Heather's extended circle will. By now I'm sure those guys are already beginning to feel the blowback. In a matter of days, if 'the bitchy one' keeps sending out the vibes and steps up the pressure, not even their own parents will want to talk to them. And I'm only just exaggerating a teensy little bit on that. Seriously."

"Wow. Double wow. I had no idea she was THAT powerful in this school. That's kind of scary." He thought of the problems Heather had caused the football team and nearly shuddered in fear. But he looked at her standing only a few feet away, and saw she was still happily staring off into space as if she'd had a frontal lobotomy. That fact made him feel a bit better, as it reminded him that she had some very sizeable vulnerabilities. He consoled himself that at least as long as she needed him for his anal skills, he wasn't in too much danger from her vengeance.

Simone leaned in even closer, and conspiratorially whispered, "Why do you think I've stayed such good friends with her? A big part of it is self-protection. I'm beginning to gather you didn't have ANY idea who you were messing with when you started fucking around with her, did you? Hell, I think that she could turn even you into a complete outcast if she wanted to."

"Hmmm. Okay, I'll admit I am a bit clueless about some of this social stuff. I never paid any attention back when I was a nerd, because what did it matter to me? I guess when it came to her, ignorance was bliss. But how-"

Heather who'd been standing just a couple of feet away the whole time, finally got impatient and interrupted, "Hey, you guys, what are you talking about there?"

"Oh, nothing," Alan replied, now speaking loud enough for both Simone and Heather to hear, but quiet enough so the girls at Heather's table couldn't. He said in slightly coded language, "I was just checking with my assistant to see how your training is coming along. I think we might need a spot check."

Heather's eyes went wide and she licked her lips. "Mmmm. Delicious idea. I know just the place. Come on!"

So the three of them left the cafeteria. The remains of Heather and Simone's lunches were left behind, unfinished and abandoned, at the table where Heather held court. Speculation ran rampant among Heather's friends as to just exactly what they'd seen (but not overheard) might mean for the social hierarchy, as soon as it became apparent that she wasn't returning to her "throne." The talk focused on her use of the word "sir."