Fiona

"He can help me plot my revenge," she muttered under her breath. "One day," she promised. "One day."

* * * * *

Greg looked up the driveway of the exclusive school. "I'm sorry," Fiona said. "I know I've imposed on you this weekend, and I've not even given you a blow-job." Greg smiled.

"It's fine, I'm just glad you are safe to be honest."

"It's not," Fiona replied instantly. "I like you as a friend, but us being together is just about the sex. You do know that, don't you?"

"Sure I do," Greg said instantly. "And I love you as a friend. And I love being with you." Greg took her hand and kissed her. "But I know we only work because of the sex." Fiona hesitated and he kissed her before she could reply. "And don't forget it," Fiona added and hugged him. "Even with your new responsibilities to your Dad, you still owe me some Gregory time!"

"Yes, I know," he replied quickly and glanced up the road. "I think we should have rang," he told her. "Your parents sounded proper upset on the radio this morning."

Fiona bit her lip. "I know. I didn't know they would come haring down the M6 did I?" He gave a nasal grunt and Fiona touched him on the arm. "But I'm here now," she told him and looked down the drive of the exclusive school she attended. "I mean, I'll see them in ten minutes." Greg nodded and kissed her again.

"You sure you don't want me there?"

"I'll be fine," Fiona promised. "I mean, I know they won't believe me and I'll probably be expelled." Greg looked at her forlornly and she just shrugged. "I mean, so-fucking-what? It's a crap school."

"It means I won't get to see you again." A car shot passed them and Fiona watched as it raced up towards the Victorian building.

"So what?" She replied with a harshness in her voice. "It's only about the sex, right?" Her voice quivered slightly and she glanced at her feet. "I'll ring you," she promised, and kissed her boyfriend goodbye, waving at him as she walked down the tree-lined road towards the imposing property in leafy Derbyshire.

She saw her mother at the foot of the steps to the building talking to an older guy in a suit and the teenager called out to her. Phoebe Holmes shouted and then raced across the small green containing an array of colourful flowerbeds, embracing her eighteen-year old daughter in both arms. "What happened?"

Fiona waited for her mother to finish hugging and the blonde girl looked up at her mother. "I was attacked and raped by my room-mate," she said with little emotion; she had the last 36 hours to come to terms with it at Greg's house, but her mother gasped.

"Inspector Ian Sutton," a tall gentleman said from behind her and made the schoolgirl jump. "Can we go inside please?"

Fiona bit her lip and nodded, her mother holding her hand. Fiona looked up and saw a hundred faces looking out of the windows at her and grinned inside, wondering if this was the sort of gossip that would make the school teachers happy!

The door to the Principal's office was open and Fiona was led into the room, containing a dozen adults who gasped as the blonde student strode nonchalantly into the room. Jenny Lever sat in the chair, her face disfigured and swollen and her parents either side of the attacked girl. The tall, gruff man jumped to his feet. "You," he yelled. "You. You see what you've done to my Jenny."

Fiona snorted. "They attacked me." The Principal called for quiet but Fiona stood glaring at the parents of her room-mate. "My only regret is that I didn't kill her on Saturday night."

"Fiona," her mother called and Jenny's mother stood up, a wiry lady with a concerned face.

"Oh my God!" She cried and her eyes widened. "Jenny wouldn't do anything like that."

Fiona's parents tried to steer Fiona towards the other set of chairs but Fiona wriggled away from their grip and jabbed a finger into the chest of the angry parent. "Yeah, well she did. And ..."

"My daughter was in hospital all night," Jenny's father interrupted and spoke to the Principal. "And she has a broken nose. Is that girl going to be expelled and if not, why the hell not?"

The Principal called for quiet and Fiona threw her arms up in the air, a tear streaming down her cheek. "They beat me up, raped me with a dildo and they threatened to sodomise me," she said, her mother putting an arm around her. "Her, Angelina, Sophia, Michelle. She deserved everything she got."

The Principal took a deep breath and the Inspector raised his hand. "Miss Holmes is making some serious allegations. Are you sure you want to make them?"

"She's a Walter Mitty character," Jenny's father interrupted. "A fantasy world."

Inspector Sutton groaned and reminded him that rape was a serious offence with a promise of a night in the cells if he wasn't quiet. "These are serious allegations," Inspector Ian Sutton told Fiona. "Are you sure you want to make them?"

"Of course I am sure," Fiona snapped and pulled out four pieces of paper from her pocket, passing them to the Police officer. "My boyfriend made me write them on Saturday night while everything was still fresh in my memory. And he has pictures of my wounds on his computer and some recordings. He made me do it."

The Inspector flashed a smile. "You should have called us on the night."

"Yeah, he said that as well."

"He's a wise lad."

"What boyfriend?" Phoebe asked. "We didn't know you had a boyfriend." Jenny snorted.

"She's had every guy in the village," Jenny said coldly. "Any one of them could be her boyfriend."

Fiona stared across the room at the bruised girl and snorted. "OK. I have a sex life, everyone knows that. Do your parents know that you do Coke with Angelina?"

The swollen face of Jenny shook her head and Fiona lurched across the chairs towards her, knocking Jenny's mother out of the way. "Now tell them. Fucking admit it, you raped me." Fiona was stopped from striking Jenny and Phoebe pulled Fiona back by her hand. "Tell them," she yelled menacingly

"It wasn't my fault," Jenny muttered. "It's ..." Jenny's father spluttered and shushed his daughter as the Inspector skim-read the notes and turned back to the Principal. "I would need to interview Miss Holmes down the station as well as the four girls the allegations are against. As well as any witnesses, any CCTV footage you have." He rubbed his nose.

The Principal groaned and then nodded with an "of course."

"I want this girl expelled," Jenny's father said, pointing towards Fiona. "She brutally attacked my daughter. I want her expelled and arrested. And she admitted it earlier. I want to make a complaint and want her arrested and in prison."

Fiona snorted. "Go on, expel me then."

The Principal sighed. "I will be conducting an investigation Mr Lever, that is sufficient. Now, Fiona, we obviously have to move you." She hummed and sighed. "To the South Wing with a Kathryn Brown, maybe?" Fiona nodded, biting her lip and looked at her mother.

"Kathryn's all right," she muttered and nodded. "She's not going to attack me in the night."

There was silence for a moment before the Principal spoke. Fiona was taken to the Police Station to be interviewed by a specialist womans' team, and her bedding and clothing was taken away for forensic analysis, along with those of the girls who attacked her.

Fiona's parents were visibly shaken, muttering amongst themselves. There was a degree of surprise how composed Fiona was, especially when talking about it: her clinical and unemotional responses to the questions she was presented with unnerved her mother, but as Fiona had said, she was tearful on Saturday night, when the shock of the attack was still raw.

Most of all though, Fiona just wanted to see her attackers suffer, whether that be at her hands or the hands of the Police. "I think you should leave that school," her father told her as they drove out of the Police Station car park. "We can look to see a local school for you to finish your A Levels at."

Fiona shook her head. "No. I won't be beaten," she said resolutely. "I won't be forced out. If they expel me, I don't care, but I am not leaving of my own free will."

"But ..." her mother started and Fiona grunted an interruption.

"We break for Christmas soon, we can chat then," Fiona offered.

"Well your mother and I aren't happy," her father replied. "We don't think that you should stay here." Fiona grunted, and told her father to stop as he drove into the village. "It's Greg."

Fiona leapt out of the car as it stopped, and threw himself into the arms of her boyfriend. "You leaving?" He asked and Fiona shook her head.

"No, not yet," she said after they kissed. "Just been to the Police Station, they are investigating." Greg pushed her away and looked into her eyes.

"I told you to call the Police on Saturday night," he told her firmly. "But you knew best."

"Oi," Fiona said with a frown. "Play nice," she warned.

She turned to see the face of her mother looking on and then introduced her parents to her boyfriend. "Thank your parents for us," Phoebe asked as she got out of the car. "For keeping her safe."

Greg giggled. "Oh that's OK. They quite like her."

Fiona grinned and then turned to her parents. "I helped his Dad do his books yesterday for the family business."

"He reckons that she has saved him several thousands."

"Yeah, and that's your job now," Fiona thundered. "I can't believe you would let your folks struggle like that!"

"Play fair," Greg murmured.

Phoebe nodded and cocked her head towards the school. "Come on trouble," she said with a firm nod. "It's time you were back where you should have been."

Greg sniffed. "You staying? Completely?"

Fiona looked at her mother behind her. "For the time being, yes."

Chapter VII

Fiona knocked stoutly on the door and waited; there was silence and she took out her key and slid it into the lock. "Boo!" A voice called from behind her and Fiona turned to see a tall brunette girl, soaking wet and dressed in a towel. "I've been expecting you. Been expecting you all day."

"Yeah I've been at the Police Station," Fiona muttered and Kathryn just shrugged as Fiona opened the door.

"Wasn't saying anything," she murmured and licked her lips. "I went down with the Principal and we moved all your stuff in here." Her eyes sparkled and she pointed towards the left hand side of her new room, bigger than her old bedroom. "I've hung up your clothes in the wardrobe and I've put everything in your drawers in your drawers." She gave a wry smile and looked at her. "I mean everything."

"Oh that."

"Yes," Kathryn giggled. "Including that." Fiona blushed as the girl walked past her and sat on the bed. "I heard what happened," she said slowly. "I'll ... I'll ..."

"I'm fine," Fiona snapped as she closed the door gently. "I've been told to go for counselling which I don't want to do. As if talking about it to a stranger is going to help me." Kathryn shifted on the bed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "If you want someone to talk to ..."

"I don't," Fiona snapped. "I've had Greg trying to get me to do that." Kathryn glanced at the door and knelt down underneath her bed, pulling up a big box of chocolates and a bottle of wine.

"It's not anything fancy but I thought we could have a drink and a chat, put some music on. Get to know each other." Fiona pursed her lips together and Kathryn hesitated. "Maybe."

"That's really good of you," Fiona muttered. "Can I just have a shower, get out of these clothes first."

"Sure." Kathryn blushed and bit her lip. "Ummm ... I might get ready myself and ... ummm ... well I sleep nude. Is that a problem?"

"No," Fiona replied with a smile. "That's no problem at all."

* * * * *

Fiona was certainly shaken and from her ordeal and the first two nights awoke several times from her sleep, sweating profusely and shaking from her nightmare. While Kathryn was not previously a good friend (Fiona swore that she didn't have any "real friends" at the school), she was certainly more than a passing acquaintance, and although Fiona opened up a little to her when talking about her ordeal, still exceedingly quiet and withdrawn in her demeanour.

Fiona had been left with strict instructions to telephone her parents on a daily basis, and her mother added to calls from the Principal, Kathryn and Greg (who visited after his school had finished lessons) to seek some counselling, but Fiona was adamant that it was not needed.

"It's admitting they got to me," she snapped at Kathryn when the subject was broached on the Thursday evening. "And I won't do that."

"But it has," Kathryn said as she put down her Mathematics textbook. "Everyone's been saying how ... quiet you've been." Fiona hummed and Kathryn picked up a magazine throwing it across the bed at her.

Fiona glanced at the pictures of tattooed people on the front cover and shrugged. "And?"

"I love people like that. They are what they are, totally honest. No bullshit. They know they look a bit freaky but they have chosen their path in life and everyone else has to accept it. And that was you. We knew that you liked a roll in the hay and was just Fiona. Never shy, or afraid to say something. Called a spade a spade. And now, you are all meek and scared to say what you think."

"I am not," thundered the blonde teenager, scrambling to her feet. She waved her finger in Kathryn's face and screwed up her face angrily. "I was attacked and ..."

"I know," Kathryn interrupted calmly. "I know Fiona. And ..." She sighed as she trailed off and held out her arms to her room-mate. Fiona pushed her away, but Kathryn was insistent, and sniffed as the brown-haired young lady stood unmoved and embraced her room-mate. Kathryn squeezed the schoolgirl who burst into tears and sobbed into her shoulder, apologising as she did.

"It's fine," soothed Kathryn and watched as Fiona pulled away from her and wiped her eyes. "Honestly, talk to me. Don't bottle it."

"I'm fine," Fiona muttered. "Just got to me a bit."

"A lot of people in this school like you," Kathryn told her. "Loads. They like you for who you are."

Fiona shook her head and sat back on her bed. "Rubbish."

"In the spirit of Angel with the tats, I'll be honest. You are more popular than you think because people like how honest you are. Sure, a few don't like what you stand for but who cares 'bout them? If you love yourself enough then you won't care what they think and you will be happy."

Fiona scowled. "I didn't understand a word of that. What the hell are you on about?"

Kathryn groaned. "OK who are you? Describe yourself." Fiona floundered and snorted, dismissing the girl with her hands. "OK. Female. Teenager. English. Cumbrian. Blonde hair. Like those things 'bout you?"

"I guess."

"Yes or no?"

"Yes," Fiona admitted.

"Determined. Like that?" Fiona nodded. "Middle class. Like that?"

"Yeah," she eventually snorted.

"Greg's girlfriend. Like that?"

"Course."

"Sexually active?"

"Certainly."

"So what is there, that you don't like about yourself?"

Fiona shrugged. "Not much, I guess."

"Then why act like you do?"

"Because ... I'm just not wanting to stand out at the moment."

"So you will let people who dislike you, tell you want to think. And you will let them change your opinion of you. Loads of people admire your tenacity. Don't let them change that."

Fiona sighed. "They hate me, and you and the dozen or so, on scholarships here because our parents don't pay for us to come. Sure, my Granddad pays for the accommodation bit, but we don't pay the fees."

"You mean, we are here because we are intelligent. Sophia's here because her Daddy owns a bank. Which is better?" Fiona smiled and Kathryn leaned back on her bed. "Y'know, I'm surprised you wanted to stay."

"Won't let them win." Kathryn raised her eyebrows at her new friend and stretched her legs on the duvet. "But Mum and Dad are coming down at the weekend to try and take me home. I don't want to go. Not yet."

Kathryn sighed. "Everyone keeps asking me, what really did happen with you that night. No-one wants to ask you as you are being quiet. I've heard some rumours going 'round. Some say that you were arrested for drug dealing, others reckon you had your boyfriend over and there are some really wild suggestions.

"Tell them," Fiona shrugged. "Tell them that I was attacked by Jenny, Michelle, Sophia and Annabelle, and that I was raped. All because I am on a scholarship and have sex with my boyfriends," she snapped. "I don't care."

Kathryn looked at her and gave a groan, before giving her a sultry look. "Would be better to just talk about it," she replied. "Much better. Therapeutic maybe?"

* * * * *

Fiona flicked the magazine onto the next page. "That's nice," she muttered to her room-mate as the young lady frantically dried her hair. Kathryn turned her head to look at the picture of the tattooed lady and nodded.

"Like that one," she replied and pointed to a stout woman covered in garish body art. Fiona studied the photo for a moment, making out all the different pictures and then forced a smile.

"Bit much for me."

Kathryn shrugged. "I want to get loads of tats, but you have to be eighteen. Bare skin is just so boring." She held her forearms in front of her as Fiona looked up. "I could see roses with barbed wire or some Chinese or even just a couple of cats chasing dogs ..."

"Cats chasing dogs?" Fiona asked with a giggle. "Really?"

"Yeah why not? It's all about subverting the normal." Fiona listened as her brunette friend leafed through her magazine and showed her all the tattoos and designs she admired, but it was a little advert for a camera that got Fiona excited.

Suddenly a plan started to form in her mind.

* * * * *

Fiona waited for a few seconds and closed her eyes; Kathryn had been great to spend time with, but she also enjoyed the serenity of solitude and there had been precious little Fiona-time since she had moved into the room.

Her one grace was Kathryn's Tuesday night musical practice and Fiona had almost counted down the minutes until her room-mate left the room and double checked the door was closed before bounding into her bed, shedding her clothes en route to the soft single bed.

She purred as her body sunk into the cotton sheets on the springy mattress and sighed; her hands glided over her firm teenage body. She closed her eyes, savouring every electrifying touch of her hands on her smooth skin.

She fantasised, her room was surrounded by naked people screwing on the floor, and on Kathryn's bed. The air was filled with the passionate sounds of sex, and the unmistakable scent of lust. Fiona filled her nostrils with the sapid decadence and felt a hand touch her breast.

She purred as the fingers danced over her exposed nipple and caressed her smooth orbs, delighting in the gentle warmth exciting her body. She sank further into the mattress and smiled at a young man leaning against the wardrobe, eagerly fingering an imaginary woman to an explosive orgasm. He smiled at her; her body melted: it was Greg.

She beckoned him to her side and groaned as fingers parted her cleft, exposing the soft folds to the roomful of fanciful debauchery. Fiona's body fizzed as she fantasised: Greg's fingers probing her body and her friends looking on.

She looked into Greg's eyes and parted her legs further; he pushed against her engorged button, swirling her slippery pearl around his index finger. She groaned loudly into the room, oblivious to the chatterings and mutterings of her peers admiring her licentious behaviour. She needed a release and implored her partner, pushing a finger into her moistened hole.

Fiona squealed and grunted; fingers were taking her to the brink of her orgasm. Her loins purred and twitched, pressure building in her clit, and aching for a release.

Fiona's legs trembled and her cunt streamed with musky fluid. Her fingers -- Greg's fingers -- increased their pace as they pushed against her sensitive spots. Her shoulders shivered, her nipples tingled, her toes curled and her eyes sparkled; she was at the point of her climax.