ACADEMY GIRL - Book 4: Departures

by Cardaniel

Chapter 1


Amy fingered the fabric of the Third Year choker around her neck, staring at it in the mirror. She murmured to Megan, behind Amy on the bed in their room, "I wish I could read it."

Megan looked up from her handbook of standard Hanging Girl show scenarios, her expression puzzled. "What do you mean? Just take it off and read it."

Amy shook her head vaguely, her eyes still glued to the reflection of her neck in the mirror. "It's not the same. If I take it off, then it's not around my neck anymore." She fingered the other chokers in her dresser drawer, all identical except for their colors -- at Academy parties she could choose to wear whichever one went best with her party outfit, and Amy and Megan had taken to wearing very hot ensembles for their auctions following their party performances -- all of them with the words "Amy -- Property of the Hanging Academy" stitched across the front. "I can see what it says. I want to feel what it says. I want to read it while it's around my neck."

Megan resumed studying the handbook. She said absently, "What, can't you read it backwards?"

Amy leaned in closer, willing her eyes to undo the reversal of the words imposed by the mirror. "I want to see it the way club members at the parties will."

Somehow her metal Second Year collar, now discarded, hadn't affected her this way. Probably, she thought, because the thing was so heavy that she could never forget it was there. Yes, she decided, that was it. The feathery weight of the new choker was so imperceptible that she found herself almost unaware she was collared at all. She had to keep reaching up to touch it to make sure it was there.

Amy sighed, then giggled. "Maybe we can rig up extra mirrors so my reflection gets reflected." She brushed a fleck of lint from her new aqua-colored bra, part of her Third Year uniform, marveling at her new exalted status among the students of the school.

In the mirror, she could see she had lost Megan's attention. She turned, walked to the bed and sat on it beside her roommate. She knew Megan couldn't understand her preoccupation with the symbols of her status as a Hanging Girl. To Megan, the fact of being a Hanging Girl was indisputable, and she didn't need a collar to tell her the Academy owned her.

Amy put her arms around Megan's waist and leaned her head on Megan's shoulder, noting the page Megan was on. "Captured Assassin? Is that the one you want?"

Megan frowned. "I'm not feeling it. If I was going to kill somebody, I'd make sure I had the perfect plan and couldn't be caught."

Amy turned her head slightly and kissed Megan's cheek. "Hon, you've got to be the Princess. That's so totally you."

Megan looked briefly at Amy, then back at the handbook, her lips turning up in a smile. "Why, thank you, loyal subject. So why am I a princess?"

Amy looked steadily into Megan's eyes, long enough that Megan turned to look at her. Amy said, looking serious, "Because you have so much in common with a princess. A princess is born to be what she is, just like you were born to be what you are."

Megan's eyes lit up instantly. "I like that." She reached up and gently pulled Amy's head closer and kissed her. "And you'll be my servant girl." The role of the princess' servant was one of those recent additions to the various scenarios since Miranda's day, designed to give Academy students active roles in hanging performances other than their own.

Amy giggled, mumbling against Megan's lips, "If I'm still alive." Each of them longed to be present at the other's hanging, knowing they couldn't both get their wish. They had finally agreed that they would leave it as a matter of luck -- whichever of them received a serious, acceptable offer first would take it, without concern for the fact she would lose the chance to see the other hang.

Megan continued the kiss, reaching behind Amy to unhook her bra, and Amy began undressing Megan -- they could rarely stop once their physical intimacies had progressed to this point. Amy looked up in annoyance as the speaker in their room crackled to life with the announcement, "Amy Cameron, please report to the First Year dorm sisters' room."

Amy had recognized Linda's voice before the message registered. She shook her head as Megan broke off the kiss. "It's just Lin messing around. She'll probably order us to come over for movies tonight." Amy had known it would be a mixed blessing when Linda and Laney had been made dorm sisters. Laney could be counted on to take it seriously, but Linda was sure to spice up her position of authority with a little playfulness.

Megan kissed Amy lightly on the cheek and handed her back her bra. "Go ahead. You know what kind of shit she'll give you if you don't show up."

Amy put on her bra, stood and leaned down to kiss Megan. "Yeah, but she doesn't know what kind of shit I'll give her the next time she interrupts us in the middle. See you in a little bit. Hold my place for me."

Megan grinned and picked up the handbook again. "I'm your princess. Don't give me orders." As Amy left, she could see Megan turning back pages to examine the Princess Scenario.

*   *   *   *   *

Amy knocked on Linda's and Laney's door, something she hadn't generally done for years, but their position now required a greater degree of decorum -- Amy didn't want to detract from their authority if one of the First Years was in their room. She heard Laney's "Come in." Amy put on her exasperated face and entered.

It was still jarring for Amy to see her friends in their red graduate uniforms, but it didn't stop her from venting her irritation. "Linda, could you just..." She stopped abruptly -- there was indeed a First Year girl sitting in one of the chairs, watching Amy's arrival.

The instant she focused on the girl's face, Amy gasped and blinked, her legs suddenly weak. She began, in a whisper, "Mir..." and stopped.

She stared at the girl intently. She did remind Amy strongly of Miranda, especially in profile now as the girl shot Linda a puzzled look. She certainly had the same nose, with the same high cheekbones, though the shape of her chin was slightly different, and her hair was a darker blonde than Miranda's, with a curl to it that Miranda's didn't have. Amy found that the butterflies in her stomach weren't going away. "Lin... is..." To the girl she said, "Are..." before words failed her. She shot a look at the girl's metal collar, forgetting that it would simply identify her as "Slave Girl."

Amy realized Linda was doubled over in laughter, sputtering, "I knew you'd see it! You've spent a lot more time looking at that face than I have!"

Laney, laughing too, put her hand on the First Year girl's shoulder, responding to her look of annoyance. "I'm sorry, Melissa, we're not laughing at you, honest. You just don't know how to appreciate the look on Amy's face right now."

Linda, choking back the last of her giggles, said, "Melissa, this is Amy Cameron. A Third Year... well, you can see that. Amy, I wanted to make sure you met Melissa Warren. Okay, you can go on back to your room now." She made a brusque shooing gesture.

Amy, ignoring Linda, took a step closer, trying again to speak. At last she managed a choked, "Hi, Melissa."

Melissa's puzzled frown deepened as she saw the expression on Amy's face. She spoke and, with renewed shock, Amy recognized Miranda's voice. "I'm really sorry... I'm usually good with faces, but... if we've met, I'm just not remembering. Oh! So you knew..." She shook her head slightly. "You couldn't have known my sister either. She was hanged before you started here."

Amy finally found her voice, and a smile. "There's something... someone, I mean, I think you should see." She looked up at Laney, who was more in her line of sight, and less likely to put any playful obstacles in her path. "You don't need to talk to her anymore, right? Can I take her and show her something?" She corrected herself again. "Somebody?"

Laney grinned. "Oh, sure. Mind if we come along?"

Melissa looked at her "dorm sisters" and shrugged, standing. "Is this still part of orientation or something?"

Laney interrupted before Linda could say anything misleading. "Ahhh, no. Melissa, I know you just met us, but trust us. There's a reason we're being so mysterious, but you're not going to be locked in a secret closet or anything like that. Nothing bad will happen, I promise."

Melissa shrugged again, and put on a tentative smile. "Well, okay." To Amy she said, "You'll have to show me where we're going, of course. I can barely find my way back to my own room."

*   *   *   *   *

Amy rapped softly on the door of her room. Megan occasionally still violated the neck trainer rule by using it alone, and Amy hoped no one else would ever find out. "Megan? You decent? I've got a little company with me."

Behind her, Melissa asked, "So is this your room?" Amy could see, behind Melissa, Linda's and Laney's eyes were bright with excitement.

Amy realized Melissa had just said something, played it back in her mind and responded, "Oh, yeah. Megan is my roommate," as Megan's muffled voice came through the door, "Yeah, no problem."

Amy opened the door, and saw Megan sitting on the bed with her back propped against the wall, now looking up from the handbook to see who was here. Amy gestured for Melissa to go in, watching carefully for the girl's reaction.

Melissa stopped abruptly, and she and Megan were both startled, for different reasons. In Melissa's case, it was the usual reaction of anyone seeing Megan for the first time -- in any roomful of beautiful women, Megan would always stand out. Megan, meanwhile, let her jaw drop open, and she instantly shot a wide-eyed look to her right, at the shelf on which Miranda's head rested. Great, thought Amy, even to Megan it's obvious.

Amy, watching so intently it almost seemed to happen in slow motion, saw Melissa turn her head slightly to see what Megan was looking at.

Melissa's hands flew to her mouth, and her knees buckled. Crouching, she let a strangled squeak emerge from her throat and then stood in that pose frozen, staring.

Amy turned to look at Linda, who grinned and gave her a thumbs-up signal. When she looked back at Melissa, the girl had taken several steps into the room. Amy could barely hear Melissa's awed whisper asking, "What is she doing here? She should be with the people who bought her."

Amy thought for a moment about how to answer. "Ummm... she is, sort of. My father bought her, for my brother. My brother... realized how important she was to me. And he let me have her." She decided that was basically true, as far as it went.

Melissa whirled to look at Amy. "You... your family staged her hanging?" Her eyes and mouth were wide open.

Amy stepped towards Melissa and put a hand on the girl's shoulder, unable to stop glancing back and forth between her and her late sister. It wasn't a case of there just being a subtle family resemblance. If Melissa did some things to her hair, she might easily have impersonated her sister. "The show she put on was really wonderful. I want you to know, your sister is the reason I'm here, at the Academy. I'm not just saying that."

Melissa took a step closer to Miranda, reached out and stopped herself, looking at Amy. "Is it okay if I touch her?"

Amy blinked in surprise. "Melissa, she's your sister. Of course you can touch her!"

Melissa reached out again, and rested her fingertips on Miranda's cheek as if her sister were a soap bubble that might pop at the slightest touch. She stroked her sister's cheek softly. Only a few of the other girls who had visited Amy's shrine had actually touched Miranda, but it came as no surprise to Amy that Melissa would.

Melissa looked back once more at Amy. "Could I hold her?"

Amy made a hand gesture of offering Miranda to Melissa. "Like I said."

Melissa gingerly lifted her sister's head off the shelf, backed up a few steps and felt blindly behind her for the bed, sitting on the edge of it when she reached it. Megan got off the bed to give her some room, and stood beside Amy, automatically taking her hand.

Melissa enfolded her arms around Miranda, clutching her sister's face against her breasts, bending forward with her head bowed, as if she wanted to surround her sister completely.

Amy looked at Megan, Linda, and Laney, caught their eyes and made a signal with her own eyes towards the door. She said softly, "Melissa, we're going to leave you alone with her a few minutes, if that's all right."

Melissa looked up, and Amy was floored -- not by the tears streaming down her cheeks, Amy had anticipated something like that -- but by what she said. Her lip quivering, Melissa murmured, "I can't be like her."

That could be taken so many ways, Amy thought. "What... what do you mean?"

Her voice quavering, Melissa said, "You saw her hang! You're going to expect me to be like that, and I'll never be anywhere near as good as her!" She sniffled violently to clear her nose.

Amy sat beside Melissa on the bed, and cautiously ventured, "Ummm... Well, yes, I saw her, but you didn't. How can you know whether you can do it that well?"

Barely stifling sobs now, Melissa wailed, "I grew up with her! Everything was just... so easy for her, so natural! And... and... I did see her hang, once. I mean, not all the way, obviously. But she came home and spent a weekend, you know, in her last year. I tried to get her to tell me how Hanging Girls do it, but she never would..."

Even with her own family, Amy marveled, Miranda respected the code of the Hanging Girl, the understanding that she would never talk about the tricks of her craft to an outsider.

Melissa continued, "...But she did kind of a demo for us, just for the family. She wouldn't let us bring friends over. She made all of us, me and my sisters, promise we'd never, ever do it on our own, that if we decided to go to the Academy we'd wait until they could train us. She said she wouldn't do anything until she believed we really meant it when we promised.

"She rigged up the rope herself, and got up on a stool under the rope. After she adjusted the noose around her neck herself, she let me tie her hands. Daddy and the other girls were all watching. Then she squatted down slowly and took her weight off the stool, and I pulled it away."

Melissa had stopped crying for the moment, losing herself in the memory.

"She kicked and twisted around for... well, the clock said it was ten minutes, but it seemed like forever! And then finally she wriggled her foot, and that was to tell me to put the stool back under her, so I did, and she stood up on it. And she smiled at us, and the look on her face was so..."

Melissa didn't seem to have words for it, but Amy nodded. "I know." She stroked Melissa's back.

Melissa was sniffling again, tears beginning to flow once more. "I saw that look, and I knew I just had to come here. To feel the way she felt. And I told myself..." her voice was wavering, her shoulders heaving, "...that if I could just be half the Hanging Girl she was, that would be enough. And now I'm here, and... it's all turned around now. Now I'm thinking how I can only be half the Hanging Girl she was, and everybody here knows it, and they'll think I'm... like... kind of a fraud, or something..." The sobbing took over, and she bent herself over Miranda's head again, holding it tightly against her chest.

Amy looked up at her friends, who were standing and looking on helplessly. Amy patted Melissa's back. "Listen, like I said, we'll let you be alone a minute." She stood and gestured emphatically for the others to leave, and she followed them out and closed the door.

In the hallway, Amy whispered urgently, "Look, I never had an older sister. I don't know what to tell her. I could use a little help here."

Linda blinked, and whispered back, "Don't look at me. My sisters are younger than me."

Megan nodded. "Same here. The one."

Laney said, "Two of mine are older, but one got married and is taking classes at the college part-time, and the other is a bed-slave. I'm not following in anybody's footsteps. I'm as lost as you are."

Amy thought for a moment she might appeal to Megan's memory of her aunt, but knew that wouldn't be helpful. Megan had no self-doubts resulting from her admiration of her aunt. And dealing with emotions was, in any case, not Megan's strong suit.

Amy sighed, marveling that at this late date she could find yet another reason for wishing her own sibling could have a retroactive sex change.

Linda patted Amy's hip. "Amy, go ahead. You're good at this kind of thing."

"Define 'this kind of thing.' "

"You know. Making people feel better about themselves."

Amy rolled her eyes. "I don't have any magic. Sometimes I can manage it when inspiration strikes me." It occurred to Amy that the girl sitting crying on her bed was holding a large part of Amy's inspiration in her lap -- and what was inspiration to Amy was something of a poison to this girl.

Well, she thought, maybe that tells me the first thing I should do. After that I'll wing it.

She quietly opened the door and looked inside. Melissa was still hunched over Miranda, but quiet for the moment. Amy walked farther into the room, her friends following her.

Amy sat slowly down on the bed beside Melissa, and put her arm across Melissa's back. She lay her other hand gently on Melissa's forearm, and with the lightest of pressures, tried to pull Melissa's arm away from around her sister's head, while whispering, "Melissa, I need you to sit up for me... There, that's the way." She continued pulling on the girl's arm, gradually moving it away from the back of Miranda's head. It took little effort -- Melissa, in her present state, had almost no will of her own.

Amy caught Linda's eye, and from behind Melissa's back, she pointed down to Miranda and then to the bathroom. Linda, understanding, lifted Miranda's head from her sister's lap, the latter hardly noticing, and carried it into the bathroom. Miranda, Amy believed, needed to be completely out of her sister's sight for the moment.

Amy began speaking again. "Melissa, look at me. This is really important."

Like the motion of a glacier, Melissa's face slowly turned towards Amy, and she looked at Amy with red, wet eyes.

Amy smiled at her encouragingly. "Melissa, I know how you feel right now. Not because I had an older sister to think about, but just because I'm here. Every girl, when she first gets here, has these same feelings you're having right now. Thinking they're not good enough, that they don't belong here." Amy glanced up at Megan and corrected herself. "Almost every girl."

"Yeah," Melissa sniffled, "But they haven't had it proved to them."

"Well," Amy responded, rubbing Melissa's back, "This year we're going to disprove it. Okay, listen really closely. This is the absolute truth. Are you hearing me?" She waited until Melissa, eventually, nodded, then went on.

"Some things are different from when Miranda learned how to do what she showed you. More... advanced." Amy flashed a smile up at Megan and went on. "I know it's only been a few years, but the... choreography has changed." Amy spoke slowly now, emphasizing each word. "You are going to learn some things Miranda never saw."

Amy had Melissa's full attention now. The girl looked at Amy wide-eyed. "Really?"

Amy nodded emphatically. "Really! Listen: I did see Miranda's big performance, and it's the most memorable thing in my whole life. I think about it every day and every night. But you're going to affect people even more."

It occurred to Amy suddenly that, though she was saying the right things, they were only words, and their power would fade. The words needed some reinforcement, right now.

She grinned at Melissa. "Sit right there. We're going to show you what I'm talking about." She bounced up and hooked the room's hanging platform with her foot, and pulled it to the center of the room, below the dangling noose.

She was about to ask Megan if she'd do a demonstration for Melissa, but realized that this might well simply create a fresh source of intimidation -- none of the students in Amy's class or the next one, as proficient as they had become, could perform at Megan's level, and Melissa would probably sense immediately that she might never do it the way Megan could. It would be better if Amy did it herself.

She quickly unhooked her bra and slid her shorts and panties down her legs, kicking them away with no remaining vestige of the self-consciousness she would have felt years ago. With Melissa gawking at her, her eyes following Amy's every move, Amy had Megan tie the rope around her waist, pull it back between her legs and between her already swollen pussy lips, using the ends to secure Amy's wrists, all of it done very quickly through long practice.

Minutes later Amy was in her ultimate comfort zone, hanging by her neck. She did some preliminary kicking as she built her sexual energy, pulling gently on the crotch rope.

Then she began with the hip thrusts, and the enfold-your-lover-with-your-legs movements.

After a few minutes, she spared a small part of her concentration to look for Melissa's reaction. The girl was to her left, so Amy, in practiced moves, turned herself in mid-air to face that direction.

Melissa's jaw was hanging open, and her hand, as was the case with nearly everyone seeing this sort of performance for the first time, was between her legs, her fingers stiffly rubbing her crotch through her now-wet panties, probably unconsciously, considering her intense focus on Amy.

Amy brought her own focus back to her moves. She stretched downward and strained stiffly, ripples of muscles up and down her body making waves of wriggling like a flag blowing in a strong wind as she used Shawna's "desperate reaching for support" move. She resumed the hip thrusts and leg moves, this time pulling on the crotch rope in time with the thrusts, more and more urgently, until the waves of orgasm crashed upon her, drenching her from head to toe in spasms of excitement and pleasure.

At last spent, she signaled Megan with her foot to let her down. Moments later, she was grinning down at Melissa, breathing hard, more from the aftereffects of orgasm than from shortage of air, as Megan removed the noose and untied her hands.

Still naked, she sat again beside Melissa, wanting Melissa to see her without, literally and emotionally, having to look up to her. I'm at your level, Melissa, she wanted her position to say. I'm like you, not above you. I've just had two years to learn some things. Her skin, her face, and her entire being glowing, she grinned at Melissa. "So what did you think? Did Miranda do all that?"

Speechlessly, still wide-eyed, Melissa shook her head.

Amy did want to be perfectly honest. "Now, some of that wasn't new. Miranda probably didn't bring herself to orgasm for you, but I saw her do it when she was hanging. All Hanging Girls have always tried for that. But a lot of the stuff I did... It's like I said before. Miranda never saw that. We're doing that now. Not just me. It's the standard stuff now, and we're all learning it. I came here with no experience at all in hanging. You're seeing what I've learned." She looked intently at Melissa, and spoke slowly again. "You will too. I promise. More than Miranda ever knew."

Almost in a whisper, Melissa asked, "Will you teach me?"

Amy grinned and waved her arm to indicate herself and the others. "We're all teachers here." Linda and Laney, of course, were on the teaching staff as graduates, but Amy and Megan had semi-official part-time roles as well -- they had conducted classes for what was now the Second Year class, and would be doing the same for the new First Years. "But every student at the Academy is a teacher. Everybody helps everybody and shows them what they can do. You're going to teach your own friends too." She held Melissa's eyes. "You want to be part of all this?"

Melissa breathed out a fervent, "Oh, yes!"



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