The stained glass window scattered colors across the room, a kaleidoscope of blues and reds mingling on the wooden floor. Wednesday sat hunched over her typewriter, the relentless clacking merging with her thoughts. Her fingers flew over the keys, trying to capture the visceral moment when her novel's hero stumbled upon a dissected body.
The scene was gruesome, informed by her own history with cadavers, and she savored every disturbing detail.
Across from her, Enid lay sprawled out on her bed, tossing a teddy bear up in the air and catching it with a soft thud.
"I'm so bored," Enid sighed dramatically, eyes following the bear as it soared up again only to land softly against her chest. "A werewolf can only nap for so long, you know."
Wednesday ignored her, or tried to. The incessant thwap of the bear punctuated Enid’s complaints.
“Seriously! Want to do something fun?”
No response came except for Wednesday's keys tapping away.
Suddenly, Enid bolted upright. “What if we do dares?” she proposed, excitement coloring her voice.
This time Wednesday paused mid-sentence, her pale fingers hovering over the keys. She pivoted slowly in her chair and raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”
“Like truth or dare,” Enid said quickly. “But without the truth part! Just fun stuff.”
Wednesday stared at her flatly.
“Or we could just...”
“I have a better idea,” Wednesday interrupted. “A game called Death or Dare.”
Enid blinked. “Uh...?”
“Simple rules.” Wednesday’s tone was as deadpan as ever. “Either complete the dare or face death, method chosen by the other person.”
Enid's mouth hung open slightly before she protested, "That seems a little extreme."
"Okay," Wednesday said flatly, swiveling back around to her typewriter. "I'll go back to writing."
"No no!" Enid exclaimed quickly. "Fine! Death or Dare it is."
Wednesday nodded with satisfaction. "Just so we're clear," she said casually without turning, "I'd probably choose guillotine or buried alive."
Enid gulped and rubbed her neck as if trying to keep it attached. She shook her head free of morbid visions and squared her shoulders.
"Okay," she said with determined brightness, bouncing slightly on the bed like a diver at the edge of a board. "I'll start first." She looked at Wednesday with wide eyes and added dramatically, “I dare you... to wear something pink for the next hour!”
Wednesday stopped typing mid-sentence—“entrails”—and rotated toward Enid with glacial slowness. Her expression was one of abject horror.
“Or,” Enid added playfully, “you can pick death.”
Wednesday was silent for an unsettling moment before rising from her chair with deliberate grace.
“Very well,” she said finally, voice low and ominous as fog rolling in from the sea, “but only because I have yet to procure a suitable guillotine.” She took slow steps toward their shared closet as if approaching an executioner's block.
Enid squealed with delight and clapped her hands together in victory. “You’re going to look adorable!”
“More like nauseated,” Wednesday muttered.
Enid flopped onto her stomach and kicked her legs in glee while Wednesday changed in the closet.
Wednesday emerged from the closet, her face a faint shade of green as if she were about to be violently ill.
The outfit was a sugary pink, a skimpy sweater that clung with unfortunate cuteness and a pleated skirt that bounced with every step. It was undeniably adorable, and undeniably wrong against Wednesday’s pained expression.
Enid squealed louder than before. “You look amazing! Like a murderous cupcake!” She scrambled for her phone to capture the moment.
“Take that picture and I’ll bury your phone with you,” Wednesday warned, her eyes icy daggers aimed at Enid's heart.
“Oh, okay! No pictures!” Enid stashed her phone quickly but couldn’t stop giggling. “Seriously, you should wear pink more often. It’s like... strangely perfect on you!”
Wednesday’s face remained stoic and faintly green. “If you’re done gushing over this crime against humanity,” she said, folding her arms with disdainful elegance, “I believe it’s my turn to give the dare.”
Enid looked at her expectantly, as if she might burst if left waiting too long.
Wednesday considered her options. Shave off Enid's hair? Pierce a nipple? She savored these ideas briefly like dark chocolate melting on her tongue. “For the next hour,” she declared with deliberate relish, “you will be completely naked.”
Enid blinked in rapid succession, a mix of shock and intrigue playing across her face.
“Since there's no way I'm leaving this room wearing pink,” Wednesday added smoothly, a wicked curl at the edge of her lips, “I'll be the only person who sees you.”
Enid bit her lip but then nodded with shy determination. Slowly, she peeled off layers—her bright sweater followed by jeans and socks—until she stood entirely bare under the stained glass window’s colorful patchwork light.
Wednesday smirked in satisfaction and gave an appraising nod. “I like it. Far better than that painful pastiche of pastel you normally wear,” she said.
“Thanks?” Enid said, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, acutely aware of Wednesday's penetrating gaze.
“You’re also very...hairless for a werewolf,” Wednesday added, almost flirtatiously.
Enid flushed even deeper but giggled despite herself. She crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously.
She could swear there was something else in Wednesday's eyes, beyond the usual detachment, something that made heat rise beneath her skin. Was Wednesday turned on? Enid felt a strange thrill at the thought and noticed herself tingling with the same sensation. She quickly cleared her throat. “Well, I guess it’s my turn now?”
“It would appear so,” Wednesday said darkly. “Choose wisely.”
Enid plopped onto the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest. She stared into space for a moment before her face lit up with an idea that was both wickedly fun and more than a little exciting. “OK, I want you to summon Goody…”
Wednesday looked back at her with a blank expression. “And…”
“And then make out with her!”
A pause, then: “Aren’t these dares supposed to be something we don’t want to do? Seems a bit tame.”
“So you’re not doing it?” Enid challenged, her voice breathless with anticipation.
“I didn’t say that.” Wednesday moved to the center of the room and closed her eyes, seeking Goody’s presence in the shadowy corners of her mind.
A spectral figure began to coalesce before them—Goody Addams, Wednesday’s ancestor, clad in Puritan garb and an air of quiet intensity.
“Thou hast summoned me once more,” Goody intoned. Her gaze settled first on Wednesday, then shifted to Enid. “And without my corset this time?”
Wednesday nodded toward Enid’s naked form. “We’re having a clothing-optional evening.”
Goody considered this with a slight smile. “Such decadence,” she said approvingly.
“Decadence is kind of the point,” Enid giggled from the bed.
Wednesday gestured toward Enid. “She dares us to kiss.”
“A brazen suggestion!” Goody exclaimed with feigned horror and secret delight.
“I knew you’d love it,” Enid chimed in, giddy.
Wednesday tilted her head thoughtfully. “Perhaps we should remove our tops first,” she suggested slyly.
Goody raised an ethereal eyebrow but nodded in agreement.
Enid climbed onto the bed excitedly, already feeling warmth bloom between her legs at the very thought of what’s to come.
She watched breathlessly as Wednesday and Goody faced each other at the foot of the bed like conspirators in some delicious plot, pulling their tops off languidly before embracing, hands running softly across each other’s skin.
Their lips met tentatively at first—then fiercely—as though stoking long dormant passion between flesh and vapor.
Enid's breath quickened; she slipped a hand between her thighs while watching them kiss, and began rubbing her pussy in rhythm with their making out.
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Soon it was clear Wednesday and Goody had all but forgotten Enid’s presence, until her muffled cry made them look over and smile to see her with her head back and mouth open, panting from the afterglow of the orgasm.
“Such vigor,” Goody said, watching Enid. “I’m envious of thy carnal form.”
Enid blushed magenta and pulled a pillow over herself. “I can’t believe I just did that!” she said with some embarrassment.
Goody released Wednesday from their spectral embrace and turned to address them both. “I see thy games are improved since my century,” she declared, “but the price of my participation is that I may give a dare as well.”
Wednesday’s eyes gleamed. “Very well,” she said, intrigued.
Enid sat up, still catching her breath. “That sounds fair,” she said, her voice eager with curiosity.
Goody smirked with wicked delight. “I dare you both to blow the cock of the next boy who knocks on the door.”
Enid giggled. “Since Wednesday moved in, there haven’t been any boys stupid enough to knock.”
Wednesday deadpanned, “There was that one. He made good fertilizer for my poisonous peonies.”
Just then, a single knock echoed through the room.
Goody’s laughter echoed as she faded from view, leaving a shimmer in the air.
Enid sat up, eyes wide. “Who do you think it is?”
Wednesday pulled the pink sweater back over her head. “Someone with a death wish.” She moved toward the door with the same slow deliberation as before, her curiosity piqued.
Enid scrambled for her clothes, beginning to tug them on with frantic excitement. Wednesday gave her a look, and Enid sheepishly dropped them again, “Right, the dare. No clothes then I guess for me. But Wednesday, what if it’s a teacher? Or the principal? Or—” she gasped, giddy with scandalous delight—“what if it’s Xavier?”
“Enid, contain yourself,” Wednesday said, already reaching for the doorknob. Her expression was unreadable, a delicate balance of amusement and dread. She twisted the handle and flung the door open, prepared for whatever horror or delight awaited them...
* * *
Eugene stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and clutching a large glass jar filled with buzzing bees. His bespectacled eyes darted from Wednesday’s pink ensemble to Enid’s naked body, barely concealed by a decorative pillow.
“Uh,” he stammered, cheeks reddening like ripe tomatoes. “I can, um, come back later?”
Enid giggled, holding the pillow tighter. “Hi, Eugene! We’re just playing a game. Want to join?”
He blinked rapidly, processing the scene like an overworked computer. “I—I just wanted to show Wednesday these killer bees I got!”
“Fascinating,” Wednesday said, tone dry as desert sand. “But you need to come in. We have a dare to complete.”
“A dare?” Eugene echoed, his voice cracking as he stepped inside. “With me?”
Enid wiggled her eyebrows playfully. “It’s a really fun one!”
Eugene looked from Enid to Wednesday, then back to Enid, his confusion mounting. “You’re not going to... kill me, are you?”
“Not this time,” Wednesday said. “Now take down your pants and lie down.”
Eugene's face turned the color of volcanic eruption. “You want me to—what?”
Enid gave him a reassuring look. “Come on, it’s just a game! You trust us, right?”
He hesitated, awkward, then slowly unbelted his pants. “You want me to lie down?” he asked, voice breaking like glass.
“Precisely,” Wednesday said, her eyes as calm as a lake at midnight.
Eugene lay stiffly down stiffly on the floor, his pants still loosely around his hips. He looked up at them helplessly.
“Here, let me help,” Enid said, tossing the pillow, hopping off the bed, and gently tugging his pants off.
Eugene eyes bugged out seeing Enid’s nude body - the first naked girl he’d ever seen in the flesh.
Wednesday then watched with clinical interest as Eugene’s bee-themed boxers came off to reveal a shockingly large cock, standing at attention like a soldier saluting.
The girls both stared, momentarily speechless.
“Wow, Eugene,” Enid said, her voice filled with delighted surprise. “You’ve been holding out on us! Can we even get it all in our mouth?”
Eugene’s face was pure panic and bewilderment. “You’re going to... blow me?!” he squeaked.
“Unless you’d rather die?” Enid teased, brushing her fingers lightly against his shaft.
Wednesday took off her pink sweater, revealing her pale breasts, and knelt down, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Guess we should get started.”
Eugene lay back, his head buzzing more than any beehive. “Oh wow,” he said, his voice a mix of terror and thrill. “Oh wow oh wow oh wow.”
Enid and Wednesday exchanged amused glances. In unison, they leaned in toward Eugene’s monstrous erection, Enid gently stroking and Wednesday taking the tip into her mouth with deliberate precision.
Eugene’s eyes rolled back ecstatically as he moaned, “This is better than bees!”
Enid ran her tongue along Eugene’s shaft as Wednesday sucked, her dark hair brushing against his thighs.
Enid took the tip into her mouth and sucked while Wednesday swirled her tongue around and around the base.
Eugene’s moans grew louder. The girls licked and sucked him, then released him to kiss each other intensely, tongues entwining.
The sight was more than he could bear—a hot spray of cum splattered across their faces, as if he were marking them with his seed.
They continued kissing hungrily, cum dripping down their cheeks and mixing on their tongues.
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Finally, Wednesday pulled back, wiped a finger across her cheek, and licked it clean with macabre relish.
She looked down at Eugene, whose body was quaking like Jell-O in a stampede. “The dare is over,” she said matter-of-factly. “Now let’s turn to far more interesting matters—these killer bees.”
She picked up the jar, buzzing with frenetic life, and mused aloud, “I wonder how I might use them on campus.”
Her eyes glinted as she considered potential chaos.
She glanced at Eugene, who lay in a stunned stupor, his glasses askew. “Can I have these?”
He blinked slowly, then snapped out of his trance. “Yes! Yes, of course! They’re all yours.”
“Thank you,” Wednesday said, cradling the jar as if it were a precious artifact. “And thank you for playing our little dare game.”
She slipped back into her pink sweater with a look of disdain, as though she'd been touched by something unclean.
Enid wiped cum from her face with her finger and licked it off, then giggled. “Yeah, Eugene, you’re the best!”
Eugene cocked his head, still trying to process the whirlwind of events. “Wait,” he said, sitting up, his voice regaining some of its usual nasally energy. “Do I get to give a dare too?”
Wednesday and Enid exchanged looks, a constellation of possibilities passing silently between them.
“Sure!” Enid said chirpily, bouncing on her toes, her naked body still splattered with Eugene’s cum and the colors of the stained glass window.
Eugene tapped his finger on his chin, eyes darting with frantic thought. He seemed to consider several ideas, each half-formed and quickly discarded. Then, with a sudden spark, his face lit up like a lab experiment gone right. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, the words tumbling out in a giddy rush. “I dare you to have a dance-off... in the hallway outside the headmaster’s office... but totally nude!!!”
Enid’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “You want us to... what?” she squeaked.
Wednesday remained unfazed, her expression as deadpan as ever. “He’s being quite clear,” she said.
Enid scrunched her face, a mixture of disbelief and excitement. “I don’t know if I can do it!”
“Shall I prepare the guillotine then?” Wednesday asked, arching a dark brow.
Enid protested quickly, “No! No, it’s fine!” She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Okay, we can do this.”
A line of students formed a bustling gauntlet, their purple and black uniforms a dark tide in the hallway. They whispered, giggled, pushed each other animatedly, and fished out their phones, anticipation crinkling the air.
On one end stood Wednesday, her pale body stark against the stone walls, as lithe and composed as a sculpture. On the other end, Enid, entirely nude and blushing from head to toe, her skin gleaming with nervous energy under the fluorescent light.
Eugene positioned himself between them, his grin as wide as his glasses. He held up his watch, eyes darting between the two girls. “Okay, uh, you’ve got one minute,” he announced, his voice loud with excitement. “And I’ll be the judge of who wins!”
Enid shifted awkwardly. She bit her lip, her arms hovering near her chest in a feeble attempt at modesty. The scrutiny of the crowd seemed to weigh on her like a physical thing.
Wednesday, in contrast, stood with serene indifference, as if she were alone in a graveyard. She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them, sending a ripple of whispers through the audience.
“Go!” Eugene shouted, kicking off the contest.
Enid started dancing, her movements self-consciousness at first, caressing her naked breasts and body as she danced. After a few moments, a giggle escaped her lips, and slowly, she relaxed, her body loosening into a rhythm that was surprisingly graceful.
Wednesday began to move, unfurling like a ghost in slow motion. Her limbs floated with eerie precision, in dance that was slightly exotic, with hints of belly dancing, that was mesmerizing. She didn’t so much as glance at the gawking students, her focus entirely on her own fluid motions.
The crowd’s laughter grew louder, then hushed, as Enid broke into a wild, carefree dance, limbs flailing joyfully like a child at her first concert. She caught Eugene’s eye and winked, a spark of confidence lighting her face.
Wednesday pivoted smoothly, dark hair swirling like a cloak around her. Her dance was elegant as a raven’s flight, and by the looks of her bored expression, it was effortless.
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Eugene’s head swung back and forth, unable to keep up with the spectacle unfolding around him. The minute passed in a breathless blur, and as the girls slowed to a stop, he declared, “It—it’s a tie!” His voice cracked with the excitement.
The crowd erupted into a chorus of cheers and whistles, phones flashing like lightning bugs in summer.
“You chicks are insane!” a student shouted, half admiration, half disbelief.
“Total legends!” another added, snapping a final picture before dashing off.
Enid and Wednesday exchanged looks across the hall, Enid’s face a mixture of relief and lingering shame, Wednesday’s a cool mask of satisfaction.
Suddenly a student on the stairs shouted, “Headmaster coming!”
Eugene gestured frantically for the girls to make their escape.
Enid and Wednesday bolted down the corridor, their feet pounding against the floor in unison, leaving behind a trail of gasps and whispers. They didn’t stop until they reached the sanctuary of their room, the door slamming shut behind them like the final note of a symphony.
Enid collapsed onto her bed, breathless and pink from exertion and exhilaration. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life!” she exclaimed, burying her face in a pillow.
Wednesday stood calmly, as if they’d just returned from a leisurely stroll. “Admit it,” she said, her voice cool and teasing. “You enjoyed it.”
Enid opened her mouth to protest, but her eyes fell on the clock. “Oh my gosh!” she shrieked, jumping up. “We’re gonna be late to math class!”
She scrambled for her clothes, panic setting her fingers fumbling awkwardly against fabric. “Mr. Myrgle’s going to kill me! I had so much trouble with the homework again.”
Wednesday gave her a look as she began dressing.
Enid paused, one leg in her jeans. “What?”
Wednesday smirked slightly. “Just another dare.”
“No!” Enid said, aghast. “No way. Not in Mr. Myrgle's class. He’ll flunk me!”
“All you have to do,” Wednesday said calmly, “is go up to his desk, bend over, and have him help you through your homework. He won't see a thing.”
Enid looked skeptical, her eyebrows bunching in doubt. “And…”
“And you lift your skirt to flash the whole class for 30 seconds. That’s all.”
Enid opened her mouth to argue but glanced at the clock again. She screwed up her face, exasperated. “Okay, fine! Let’s just go!”
TO BE CONTINUED!
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