Gertrude the Prude

Every school has one, don't they? The kid who was home-schooled until the neighbor's judging eyes became too much. The sheltered, spoiled brat who was given everything they wanted, except common sense. The insufferable know-it-all who could quiet a room with their wrongness. Every school in America has at least one: a Jesus Freak.

I know how that term sounds, and personally, I'm not a big fan of it, either, but what else do you call someone who says skirts or dresses shouldn't go past the knees, or petitioned for a confessional to be built on school grounds, or that exposed shoulders invite the Devil to sit on them? No, really, what do you say to that last one, I honestly don't have a rebuttal. Any advice would be appreciated.

But I, and the rest of the student body, call it like we see it. And what we see is a Jesus Freak.

It's not even like she's a bad person, really, she's just... overzealous. She's not going around telling people they're going to hell for being left-handed or gay or Fortnite fans. She's a good person at heart... just that her heart is at 200% when she could reasonably function at maybe 30%. 40% tops.

By now, you're probably wondering who I'm talking about. Her name is Gertrude Simmons. Ordinary enough name, and you wouldn't tell from it that she's kinda... off-kilter. And, if I can open the dam a bit, she's not that bad-looking. She's chubby, which I like, and rosy-cheeked, so when she smiles, she gets these adorable dimples. Not that I stare, or anything. And her red hair's always in this cute messy bun. She wears glasses, too, big round ones that do her brown eyes a lot of justice. Gertrude's got buck teeth, too; not super prominent, but noticeable, a bit like a hamster. And she always wears dresses, plain ones with big waistbelts. The modest, humble style definitely suits her, but the dresses always seem to have a bit of trouble "containing" her, if you know what I mean.

... Okay, so I do stare. Sue me. She presses a lot of buttons.

As you might expect, she's not super popular. She gets a decent amount of nicknames that one wouldn't call flattering; Gerbil, Trude the Prude, Gerprude, The Nun, Miss Vanilla, it's a pretty long list. Our school's fairly nickname-heavy. Hell, everyone just calls me "guy". Personally, I just call her Gertrude. Or Gertie, if I'm feeling playful.

So, there you have it. Our own personal Jesus Freak. Thing is, I didn't really know how far down the well went in regards to the "freak" part, until one day...

-/-/-/-/-

"Guy!"

"Aw, nuts." I muttered half-heartedly to myself. I recognized that voice. I turned around to see Gertrude briskly walking towards me, black Mary Janes clacking on the tile as she approached. Same messy bun, same big round glasses. The only thing different was her dress color; a rather dowdy-looking beige.

"Hi, Gertie."

She sighed as she stopped, resting her hands on her hips and regarding me with an, admittedly, adorable frown. "It's 'Getrude'. I must've told you a thousand times."

"Well, then this is a thousand and one."

She puffed out her cheeks and pointed at me. "Don't get smart with me! And are you going to do something about your shirt?"

I quirked an eyebrow, glancing down at my shirt. It wasn't anything special, just a simple black tee. "Something like...?"

Gertrude sighed again. "Tuck it in! It's so sloppy-looking! 'Cleanliness is next to godliness!'"

I rolled my eyes. "Gertie, I'm pretty sure The Big Man has better things to worry about than my caj look."

"'Gertrude.' And you presume an awful lot for someone with no faith!"

"That's not true!" I replied in mock-hurt. "I actually have quite a lot of faith!"

Her look softened. "Really?"

"Yup! I have a lot of faith that if you got yourself a partner and maybe got a kiss, you'd be a bit less of a nag."

Her cheeks bloomed red as she stomped her foot. "You heathen! How dare you! A-And kissing!? Before marriage!? Have you no shame!?"

"Not really, no. But are we done here? It's almost time for lunch, and I wanna get the least-sticky table."

"No, we are not done!" She stamped her foot again. "Apologize for your disgusting words!"

This could go on for a while, and those tables are just so sticky. "Okay, alright, I'm sorry. Better?"

"Yes. You're very lucky the lord teaches forgiveness. But I still want you to tuck in your shirt. And fix up your hair, too! And--"

Before her list of demands could grow any further, the lunch bell rang, and I silently cheered in my head. "Oop, sorry, Gertie, duty calls! See you in bio!"

"It's Gertrude!"

-/-/-/-/-

Good news. I was able to get a non-sticky table. In high school, it's all about the small victories.

Bad news. They were out of pudding.

I should've seen it coming. It was the best kind, salted caramel, with bits of crushed cookie on top. The kind of pudding that could start and end wars. Heal the sick, feed the hungry. Except me, apparently, because there wasn't a cup left, not even a crumb.

Even the perfectly cooked meatloaf and lumpy potatoes couldn't lift my spirits. What's a good meal without a better dessert to cap it off? I sighed and took my tray, making my way back to my sanctuary, when I saw it. A pudding cup. In delicate, milk-white hands. Hands that belonged to...

"Heeeeey, Gertie!"

"Ger. Trude."

"Sure, sure. Sooooo... pudding, huh? I didn't know you were about that life. Aren't you more about yogurt?"

"My diet is none of your business. And as for this," she gently shook the pudding, my eyes locked onto it. "I consider wasting food a sin. No one else was taking it, so I figured I might as well."

A smirk crossed her face, and I felt a chill.

"Do you... want it?"

"More than anything." I replied, feeling my mouth water.

"Alright. Come with me, then." She turned around and strutted off, me close behind. Speaking of behind, though I wouldn't dare say it out loud, her ass looked really good in that dress. Hey, I'm only human. Jesus was perfect, not me.

Gertie had found another non-sticky table, and motioned for me to sit across from her. She'd gotten pretty comfortable, her Bible out, opened to a passage that I really didn't care to analyze. All I cared about was pudding. "I'll give you this pudding on one condition."

"Name it." I said, already thinking about just how damn good that pudding would taste at the first spoonful.

"You're going to sit here and say grace with me. Then you get your pudding."

I blinked. "Is that all?"

"That's all."

"... This isn't some trick, is it? Like, if I say it wrong or something, you're gonna hit me with that?" I pointed at her Bible.

"Even if I didn't abhor violence, I wouldn't use the word of the lord." She held out her hands across the table, beckoning me to take them. "Come now, let's say grace."

I grinned. "Hand-holding? Before marriage? Gertie, you surprise me."

"It's Gertrude!" she snapped with a blush. "And don't try and pervert this! Do you want your pudding or not?"

"Alright, alright." I took her hands, which were surprisingly warm, and closed my eyes.

"Lord God, Heavenly Father, bless us and these Thy gifts which we receive from Thy bountiful goodness, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen. Now, you."

I mentally rolled my eyes but repeated the prayer, and she let go of my hands. "There, see? That wasn't so hard."

"Sure, sure. Now, then, I believe I'm owed some pudding?"

"Is that really all that's on--"

"Yes."

"Oh, fine. Here."

I all but snatched the pudding from her hands and set it aside with a gentle pat; soon my sweet. I practically tore through lunch while Gertrude gave me disapproving looks as she gently ate her garden salad.

The thing about Gertrude; she attracts more attention than you'd think. Not because of her whole bookish girl-next-door vibe, but more the reputation she has. That confessional proposal? It almost went through. And because of that, she's often the target of a bully or two. This time it was some no-neck jock who's name I don't remember. "Oooooh, what's going on here?" he drawled. "Guy and Gerprude having a lunch date?"

"Gertrude. And hardly." Gertrude scoffed. "I'm here to make some attempt to guide him back on the path of righteousness."

"Pffffft, good luck. You ain't exactly the Pope, Gerprude."

She glared. "I should hope not, seeing as I'm female and Christian."

"Potato, potato." he dismissed, before sauntering off. "Pick your lunchmates better, Guy. I don't think you want her Jesus germs all over you."

Gertrude scoffed, returning to her meal.

"You really don't let that stuff get to you, do you?" I asked.

"No. I'm strong and resolute in my beliefs. I don't care what they think. If a life of hedonism appeals to them more than one bathed in the light of our lord? So be it. I show them a path; it's up to them to take it."

See what I mean? Zealous. But there's something endearing about it, isn't there?

"That's pretty damn insightful, Gertie."

There was no mistaking the dusting of pink on her cheeks. "Don't swear. And eat your pudding."

-/-/-/-/-

Biology. Sucked. No other way to say it, really. All it was was learning the same things about the human body over and over until it felt like the very air was triggering brainrot. I swear the teacher hadn't moved on from chapter seven since the school year started back up after winter break.

The upside, we could pretty much do whatever we wanted as long as we were stealthy about it. Meaning "not super obvious". Some students texted or played video games. Some read or did work from other classes. Guess what Gertrude did? If you thought "reading her Bible", you'd be right.

Which comes to me. I'm not really a "texting" guy, and I never saw the point of playing a game if you have to watch the teacher more than the screen. So I'd resort to watching Gertrude.

Not in, like, a creepy way. More of a "man, she's really cute" way. I wasn't kidding about the girl-next-door vibe. Sure, she dressed frumpy and plain, but that was part of the charm. Especially in a sea of vest tops, crop tops, miniskirts, and whatever the hell was going on with skorts.

As she read, she'd occasionally mouth out the scripture, usually before turning a page.

Cute.

To the shock of everyone, the teacher broke pattern and announced that we had a project to do over the weekend. This alone brought up a lot of groans from the class, but it got even better (worse). He was assigning the partners.

I know what you're thinking. It would be absolutely kismet if I got paired up with Gertrude, right? That absolutely seems where it's going, yeah?

Well, you'd be wrong. That's what you get for making assumptions. I was paired up with this bratty cheerleader, and Gertrude with the jock from before.

As you might expect, neither of us were happy about this, so we immediately asked to trade partners. There was a round of laughter and teasing, people saying I must have a thing for the Jesus Freak. And they were right, sort of. Not that they needed to know about it. The teacher, who really didn't seem to care either way, went for it, and just like that, we were partners.

However, there was another wrinkle. Topics. Which were chosen by random draw.

And I give you three guesses on who was stuck with the reproductive system, and the first two don't count.

Needless to say, a weekend with Gertrude, who was fire and brimstone as she objected to the topic, discussing the reproductive system, was not how I saw things going. Life's funny, huh?

-/-/-/-/-

"... disgusting, perverted, depraved! Just... just thinking about it makes my skin crawl!"

"It's just sex, Gertie. It's not the end of the world."

"Gertrude! And it might as well be! Even thinking about such things is horrendous, and now I--"

"We."

"--we have to come up with a report for it!?" She stomped her foot. "Unacceptable!"

"You heard the teach, though. Either we do it or we get a zero, and that's a huge hit. We might go down letter grades."

Gertrude looked on the verge of an aneurysm, but eventually, she relented, but muttered about it all the way to the pickup and drop-off area.

"Want a ride home?" I offered. "We could get a headstart on the project."

"I can't."

"... Why's that?"

There was a long pause before she replied. At least two minutes.

"My parents are out of town until next weekend. I can't have people over." She regarded me with a frown. "Especially a boy."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's improper! A boy and a girl alone... there's no telling what could happen! No, no, no, out of the question!"

I rolled my eyes. "Then how do you expect us to do our project together? Over Zoom?"

A moment of silence.

"Wait, seriously? That's gonna be such a pain..."

"If it means less dealing with your antics or whatever sinful thoughts are floating around in your mind, so be it."

I could tell she wasn't gonna budge on this. "Fine, fine. Can I at least still give you a ride home? I can get you there faster than the bus."

Gertrude paused, likely thinking it over. "I'm sitting in the back. And no heathen music stations."

"I'll play only the finest country."

Huffing, she followed me to my car, giving a soft "Thank you." as I held the door open for her.

True to my word, as soon as I got in and started the car, I turned it to the only country station I knew of. Getrude lightly pouted, but said nothing as we drove off.

-/-/-/-/-

"It's the last house on the left."

"Oh, that's a great movie."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, nothing."

I never knew where Gertrude lived; I figured it would be some gilded gated community where everyone had a Lexus or something. The reality, true to form, was more humble. It was a quaint little cul-de-sac only twenty minutes from the school. Her house was a humble two-story tudor that looked more like a fantasy cottage than a standard house. As I pulled into the driveway, Gertrude was already gathering up her things. "Thank you for the ride home. You're a... surprisingly safe driver."

"A compliment! I'll take what I can get." I replied.

There was another pause, and I wondered if I offended her, when...

"Would you like to come inside for a snack?"

I gasped theatrically. "Miss Simmons! Are you inviting me, a boy, into your home, with no parents? Scandalous! What shall people say?"

Utterly unimpressed, she said "A favor must be returned in kind. It's not right for you to help me and I don't repay your generosity."

"Works for me, Gertie."

"Gertrude. Do I have to write it down so you don't forget?"

She let me in, motioning for me to take off my shoes and set them by the cubby near the door. "I'd rather you not track dirt." she explained as she discarded her Mary Janes.

"'Cleanliness is next to godliness', right?"

"You do listen. If only you were that attentive when it came to my name."

"Whatcha mean? I know your name, Gertie."

Her frown deepened. "Getrude."

Her house looked like something out of a catalogue. White carpeted floors, cream-colored walls peppered with pictures of the family at all kinds of events; charities, fundraisers, church meet-ups. And of course, there was a cross in every room.

The kitchen was equal parts roomy and cozy. It felt warm, inviting, with butter-yellow walls and powder blue tile.

"Sit." Getrude commanded, pointing at the table. I sat. She moved fluidly as she put a kettle of water to boil and piled cookies onto a plate. As I reached out for one, she batted my hand away and wagged a disapproving finger. "Not until the tea is done, we are both at the table, and we've said grace."

I wondered if this was going to become a regular thing when she offered me sweets.

Thankfully, the tea finished quickly, and she set down a mug in front of me.

"What kind is it?"

"Rude to ask, but if you must know, it's chamomile with cinnamon and honey."

"Thanks, Gertie. This is really nice of you."

She sighed and held her hands out to me. "I'm not even going to bother this time. Grace."

I took her hands and we went through the prayer. The tea, while hot, was delicious, and the cookies were a great match, peanut butter and sugar. I must've polished off at least ten, while Gertrude only had two or three.

"These are amazing." I said through a mouthful of cookie. "Did you make these yourself?"

"Yes, and don't talk with your mouth full."

I swallowed. "Sorry. You're a great cook! I could eat these every day."

She blushed and took a sip of her tea. "Th-Thank you."

After I finished up my tea and the last of the cookies, Gertrude gathered up the dishes. "Oh, here," I said, standing up. "Lemme help... you..."

I sat back down, my head feeling about ten times heavier. Did I have too many cookies? Eat too much too fast?

"Is everything okay?" asked Gertrude as she rushed to my side.

"Fine, fine, just... my head hurts... I think I ate too fast or something."

"Come with me." Leaving no room for argument, she took my arm, guiding me to the couch. "Lie down and rest. I'm sure it'll pass soon."

"Hope so..." I said, letting out a groan. Exhaustion took over, blackness swarmed the edge of my vision, my eyes growing heavy...

-/-/-/-/-

When I woke up, it wasn't on the couch.

My head was clear, but something was very, very wrong. I'd been fully clothed when I lied down, but now I was wearing only my briefs. And even though my eyes were wide open, I couldn't see anything, my vision pitch black. The final surprise came when I tried to lift myself up. There was a creak of leather as the shackles around my wrists and ankles kept me firmly secured to the bed.

"What... the hell...?" I mumbled, pulling on my bindings. "What's going on? Hello? Is... is anyone there?"

I tried to gather my thoughts. Focus. What was I doing last? I drove Getrude home... Getrude! Was she okay!? "Gertie! Gertie, where are you!?"

"It's Getrude."

Her voice had come from my right, but I couldn't see her at all. "What's going on? Why can't I see you?"

"Because you're blindfolded." was her simple reply.

A moment of silence passed as I processed what she said.

"I'm... blindfolded? Did... did you do this?"

"Yes."

"... Did you also... strip me and tie me down?"

"Yes. I did."

I couldn't form words for a solid minute.

"W... Why the hell did you do that?"

"Don't swear. And to answer your question... I did it because I had to."

"What do you mean 'you had to?' If this is some kind of prank or something, it isn't funny. You went on about us being alone together and how that was sinful, but taking advantage of me when I fell asleep, tying me down in my underwear, that's not!?"

"You didn't just 'fall asleep.'" Gertrude said. "I drugged your tea."

"... You... did... what?"

"It was only a mild sedative, I knew you'd be fine. And out long enough for me to get you secured."

My head was spinning again. This was so weird, so messed up. This had to be some kind of fucked-up joke. This couldn't be Getrude. "Take off the blindfold. This can't be you, this is some kind of prank."

"I assure you, it's me. No one else. Just you and me."

"Take off the blindfold!"

"No."

"Why not!?" I tugged hard on the shackles.

"Because right now, I can't look you in the eyes. I'll take it off when I'm more... confident. But not before then."

I was about to demand she take it off again when I felt her hand on my right side, slowly moving down. I let out a yelp of surprise at the ticklish feeling, trying and failing to pull away. "Don't do that!"

"I knew it... I had a feeling you were ticklish."

"Gertie, what the fuck are--AAAAAAH!"

I shrieked as her hand returned, skittering up and down my side. A smattering of giggles burst forth as her nails danced on my exposed flesh.

"My name is GETRUDE! And I said 'don't swear!'" Her voice was harsh, commanding, dominant. "I must've told you a thousand times, and you never listen to me! Well, you're going to listen to me now!"

Less than an hour ago I was driving Gertrude him from school, enjoying snacks in her house. Now, I was trapped, in her house, on a bed, in darkness, unable to escape, as the most religious girl in school was tickling me. If I had a list of a hundred different ways this day would go, this wouldn't even be in the top ten.

"Waitwaitwahahahaaaaait! Stop! Stop, please!" I laugh-whimpered. Amazingly, she stopped, and I took the chance to breathe. "Why are you doing this to me? Did... did I do something wrong?"

"You could say that. You're a rather tempting boy, did you know that?"

I can honestly say that line of thought never crossed my mind once. I wouldn't say I'm a perfect ten, more like a seven. A solid seven.

"Did you?" she asked again, dragging her nails down my side once more and making me shriek.

"No, I dihihidn't! I don't even know what you mean!"

A moment of silence passed. Small, but helpless and in darkness, it was enough to give me mild panic.

"Oh, is that so? So you don't know how much of a yummy," She punctuated the word with a quick poke to my side, making me giggle. "Enticing," Poke, giggle. "And tasty," Poke, giggle. "Little morsel you are? What you do to me?"

"I'm s-serious! I don't have any idea what you're talking about!"

"I don't really expect you to get it. How could you? But you... lord help me, I can't stop myself from thinking about you. All the things I want to do to you. You're like... a piece of candy that I can't eat. And it's driving me crazy."

'Clearly!' I thought, but I kept that opinion to myself, and let her continue.

"I'm so ashamed. I know I shouldn't have these... urges, but I can't help myself. It's like being thirsty, and a bottle of water is right in front of me, and I can't take it. I'm being torn apart. I want so badly to be good and virtuous, as our lord intended... and you make it very difficult for me."

"I'm... sorry? This is all a lot to take in at once, I don't really know what to say."

I sucked in a breath as her hand caressed my cheek. Her touch was gentle, warm, soothing.

"It's quite alright. It's not your fault. That lies with me. I've fallen into sin. Thankfully, I know the way out, and it involves you. Regrettably, your participation is not optional."

My heartbeat started quickening, even more so when the bed shifted; Gertrude had climbed on. Before I could say anything, she spoke first.

"I'm going to remove your blindfold... I only ask that... you don't hate me when I do."

If that wasn't an odd request... "I could never hate you. I mean, it's gonna be hard to look you in the eyes for a few weeks after this, but--"

She put a finger to my lips. "Hush." Her finger then slowly moved upwards, tugging just beneath the blindfold and slipping it off.

Now, I wasn't sure what I was gonna see when I got my sight back. I expected to see Gertrude in her usual Plain Jane-styled outfit, Bible and cross in hand, expecting me to pray with her. I expected to see her with a cloth and a basin of holy water. I expected to see her in a habit, ready to lecture me into oblivion. I expected a lot of things.

Not a single one lined up with what I actually saw.

Same big, round glasses. Same messy bun. But gone was her usual dress. Gone was most of her clothing. In fact, the only thing that remained was the cross she kept around her neck at all times.

Instead, she was wearing a red bra with black lace, along with matching panties. Nestled between her cleavage was her cross, and lemme tell you, I'd never be able to look at one the same way again after this. Hugging her curvy frame was a lace see-through pink slip that stopped mid-thigh. Around her neck was a black choker with a white cross in the center.

If I didn't already know it was Gertrude, I'd have never believed it was her. It's one thing that she looked cute. But this? This was sexy. I didn't even know Gertrude could do sexy.

"Holy shit." I whispered, my voice raspy.

"That one I'll let slide." Getrude replied. "But... here. This is me." She gestured at herself. "The... real me, I suppose. The me I've kept secret for so long."

Everyone has their secrets, don't they? But for Gertrude to keep this one under wraps for so long? Iron Maidens were easier to pry open.

"Why are you doing all this now? We've known each other since freshman year!"

"I waited as long as I could." Gertrude explained. "I swore to myself that I wouldn't do anything until you were at least eighteen. And then that day came and went, and..." She sighed, taking a calming breath. "I thought I'd be able to just wait longer, and the urges would go away... but they never did. They just got stronger and stronger. You don't know how many nights I lied awake, thinking of you, yearning for you, wanting you."

She let out a sigh. No... a moan. An honest to god moan. Low, throaty, lustful, hungry. It was a sound I didn't think she was capable of making.

"Honestly, for the longest time, I was hoping you would... heh... that you would make a move on me."

I blinked. "Are you serious? You've mentioned at least four times you were saving yourself for marriage."

"Yes. I know that. But things have changed. Right now, here in this room, I don't care about my vow, or my chastity, or the lord's word. What I care about now, is you."

She put her hand over my chest, just over my heart. "And making you mine."

Before I could say anything, her other hand was on my chest, her fingers swiftly moving up and down. "Ah! Ahahaha! Wait! Wait, stahahahap! Whyhyhy tickliiiing!?"

She smiled. It was cute, but there was an air of dark desire behind it. Sweet, yet terrible. "Why, to punish you, of course. For years you've tormented me, and it's only fair I visit proper penance upon you."

"Thahahahahat doesn't m-mahahake seheheeeense!"

"Oh, it does for me, you forbidden apple. I'll tickle you until you break, when I'm satisfied you've been given your just desserts. Until your body remembers my touch, and craves it just as much as I crave you." Her smile became a sneer, depraved arousal flickering in her eyes. "And then... only then... will I stop. When you're completely and totally mine."

Laughter erupted from me in gales as her fingers dug into my bare underarms. I don't know if she learned how to do this, or it was instinct, but she was relentless. Up and down her hands went, from hips to underarms and back again. Even though it was a predictable enough pattern, it didn't stop it from being any less maddening.

"Thaaaaaaaat's it." purred Gertrude. "Let it all out. Be a good boy. Be my good boy. All mine."

"Geheheheeeeeeertruuuuude!" I managed to get out.

She stopped, and I took a breath. "Oh? So you can say my name properly. If I'd known that this was all it would take, I'd have done it sooner. You may speak."

"You... you gotta stop this."

"And why is that?"

I looked away, feeling my face heat up. "B-Because."

She leaned in close. Close enough I could see faint freckles on the bridge of her nose I never noticed before. Then again, she was never this close before.

"Because... why?"

Dammit, she was too close, and between the tickling (which even I'm surprised was doing it for me), and that way too sexy outfit... hey, I'm only human. And a guy. And Gertrude was, well, Gertrude.

She blinked, and a smile a mile long spread across her face. "Oh."

"I-It's a perfectly normal biological reaction!" I squealed out.

"I don't deny that, my forbidden apple. The important part is that this," She leaned back, gesturing to the tent in my briefs. "Is because of me. Meaning that things are going exactly the way I want."

I yelped as she resumed tickling, but it wasn't my sides anymore. Now it was my inner thighs. Just shy of my aching member. Another inch, maybe half of one, and her finger would brush against me. And lemme tell you, that one, single touch would unleash a flood of troubles.

Just when it seemed she'd go closer, her hands drifted further away. She scooted backwards, her hands sliding past my ankles...

"Wait, wait, wait, wait! Gertrude! Don't! Please!"

"How I love when you beg. Such a delicious sound... beg more."

"Please, please, please don't tickle me, not there, not my feet." I whimpered. "I'd be on my knees if I could, Gertrude. I'm giving up what little pride I have left, I--"

"Excuse you?" I shut up. "'Pride?' Do you honestly think you have any of that left? It's regrettable you think that way."

The second her fingers touched my feet, I howled in laughter. I knew my feet were sensitive, but it's like Gertrude had direct access to my nerves. I was swinging my head back and forth, tugging so hard on my restraints I was sure they'd leave marks, begging for all I was worth. It really, really didn't help that my erection refused to go down. If anything, it grew bigger, threatening to tear a hole in my briefs.

"You have what I say you have!" Gertrude said as her fingers raked across my soles. "Whether it's your pride, your freedom, or even your masculinity! Do you understand me!?"

"YES! YEHEHEHEEEES, I UNDERSTAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAND! OH, JEHEHEHEHESUS CHRIST!"

"You dare take the lord's name in vain!? You've learned NOTHING!"

Tears stung the corners of my eyes as the tickling continued, a wet spot forming on the front of my briefs. Gertrude let out a squeal of glee at the sight, but didn't stop tickling. "See? The longer this goes on, the more your body reacts to me! Soon, you won't be able to live without me!"

I already can't live without you! How is it she couldn't see that already!?

Gertrude's eyes widened as she stopped tickling, my breath and heart rate returning to normal. Why did she stop? She was so...

... Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh. Fuck. I said that out loud, didn't I?

"Y-You... what?"

I let out a breath. Cat was out of the bag, might as well let it roam free.

"Gertrude, I... I've been into you since, like the first week of freshman year. You're mega-cute, and if that outfit and this," I glanced down at my erection. "Are any indication, you're sexy, too. Like really, out of this world. I just never thought you'd go for me since I'm not, y'know, particularly religious. And then all this happened. I'm still trying to come to grips with everything, but... you don't have to try and twist me or my body into wanting you. I already have for years."

Her hands fell limply to her sides as she took in the information. Honestly, it was kinda comical to see her so gobsmacked when only a short while ago she was in complete control. "But-but-but I'm... I'm Gertrude Simmons! The Nun, Little Miss Vanilla, the Jesus Freak! I'm Gertrude the Prude!"

"By now, I'm pretty sure we know those nicknames are bull--er, BS. You're whoever you want to be. Last I heard, being pious and being down bad aren't mutually exclusive." I shook one of my bound limbs. "And trust me, you're anything but vanilla. You're more like cookie dough."

"... I... think I get what you mean. Goodness, me, what've I done, I must've lost my mind. Just stay still, I'll get you out of those."

"Wait, hold on." She paused, giving me a confused look. "Not... not just yet. Could you just help me with something really quickly?"

"Yes, anything."

My blush deepened, and I glanced down at my groin. Her gaze followed, and she smiled. "Oh. I see. Your perversion knows no bounds, does it?"

I chuckled, rattling one of my shackles. "Pot meet kettle?"

"You watch your mouth." she chided, giving my feet a quick tickle. "But very well. Like our lord did for so many, I shall help, and cure what ails you."

"Oh, man, thank you so muhuhuhuuuuuuch!" I started thrashing around on the bed as Gertrude went back to tickling my feet. Her smile was as sinister as it was aroused, and even as I laughed up a storm, I could tell she was breathing hard. "GEHEHEHERTRUUUUDE!"

"I think the most effective way to assist you is to force the sin from your body. And this," She moved her fingers, tickling just beneath my toes. It tickled so much I arched my back and fell onto the bed, still firmly bound. "Is the best way I can think of to do just that without sullying my pure hands."

It's really hard to follow her logic sometimes. It was hard to follow anything right now, especially when all my blood was going to my other head.

"NO! NOHOHOHOO! NOT BETWEHEHEHEEN THE TOOOOOOOES!"

"That must be quite a weak spot of yours." she chuckled. She stopped, and I treasured the reprieve with a few deep breaths. Gertrude moved herself around, facing my feet, and giving me an amazing view of her ass. I barely had time to appreciate the bounty before I felt my toes being pulled back and her fingers going right for their underside.

"OHOHOHOHOMYFUCKIHIHIHIHINGGOOOOOOOOOD!" It was a miracle I hadn't lost my voice at this point. My sanity was probably taking some big hits, though.

"Do! Not! Swear! You never learn, do you!? Sinful little boy!"

Gertrude gripped my big and second toes with one hand, corkscrewing a finger between them. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out, a silent scream of laughter. She turned around to face me, pleased at her handiwork. "Excellent. You're nearly ready."

She repositioned herself so she was facing me again. I could see the thin film of sweat on her body, the reddening of her cheeks. She licked her lips as she looked down at me, one hand firmly gripping her cross as the other spider-tickled up my leg, to only inches from my swollen length.

"Look at you." she whispered in lust-filled reverence. "Just... look at you."

"I know..." I rasped, barely able to move. "I'm a mess..."

"A mess I made, and intend to clean up... my juicy, forbidden apple." She closed her eyes, a single finger slowly, lazily, agonizingly trailing to my cock. "Our Father, who art in heaven..."

Her finger ghosted over the fabric of my briefs, a thin layer of cotton between my skin and hers. I let out a moan, loud and wanting. "Gertrude..."

"Hallowed be thy name..."

Just an inch, no, a centimeter, a hair's breadth. I was hers, I always had been, she just needed to claim me for her own. To take me. Mind, body, soul.

"Thy kingdom..."

She cracked one eye open, looking me dead in my teary, desperate eyes. She smiled, her lips parting as she uttered one single word, at the same time, pressing her finger to my member and swiping upwards, from base to tip. Only once. And that's all it took.

"Come."

And I did. Harder and louder than I ever had in my whole life. I wouldn't be surprised if I set off a car alarm. If not for my briefs containing everything, some surely would've caught Getrude in the face, and no telling what she'd do to me after that. My whole body twitched and convulsed as I orgasmed, over and over, in a seemingly-endless loop of ecstasy. Words failed me, only garbled noises coming from my mouth as I stained my underwear and her sheets.

I must've gone on for at least five minutes straight. There was nothing left. My eyes rolled in the back of my head, and I knew I was going to pass out. The last thing I saw and heard was Gertrude leaning forward to whisper in my ear.

"Thy will be done. On Earth... as it is in Heaven..."

-/-/-/-/-

This time, when I woke up, I wasn't tied to something. Or blindfolded. I was still in Gertrude's bed, she against the headboard, while I was cradled in her lap, held against her soft belly as she patted my head.

"You're awake." she said gently.

"... Am I?" I replied. "This still feels like a dream."

She giggled, a snort of laughter escaping. She snort-laughs. How is it she can keep getting cuter and cuter?

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? Water, maybe?"

"Eventually." I replied, wrapping my arms around her. "But right now, I have everything I need." 'Go for it.' I thought, leaning up to kiss her, but was stopped as she put a finger to my lips.

"Not until we're married."

Not 'until marriage.'

'Until we're married.'

And Gertrude Simmons never went back on her word.

"But..." I looked up at her with hopeful eyes. "I suppose the cheek is fine." I wasted no time planting a smooch on her cheek before she changed her mind, earning another precious giggle-snort. "Alright, up. I need to change the sheets, you need to shower, and then we can get started on our report."

"Can't we stay like this?" I asked, nuzzling into her tummy. "Just a little while longer?"

"... Ten more minutes."

-/-/-/-/-

The report went off without a hitch. Sure, there were some people who gave Getrude static about reporting on a subject that was supposedly so sinful to her, but the grade was the only voice she listened to: a solid A.

She was grateful for my help; so grateful, in fact, she let me in on two noteworthy secrets. One, her lingerie? A custom order, since her size wasn't really sold anywhere. She lucked out that her iconic and favorite dresses were common buys. And she specifically ordered it like that because those were my favorite colors.

Two, and the definite confirmation that she'd been planning this a long time? The straps on her bed were also a custom job. Reinforced leather. They were designed to hold her, not me, in the hopes that I would give in. I never did, so she ended up taking steps, and we all know how that turned out.

Well, patience is a virtue, even if it's not in the good book. And that's what led to her other reward, what led to me back in her bed, this time staring down at her bound body, in that lingerie I've come to know and love. What led to me moving my wiggling fingers beneath her slip, the first of many giggles escaping her lips.

Every school has one, don't they? At least one in every school across America. A Jesus Freak. But this one, squirming, giggling, and sputtering out prayers as I tickled her? This one is mine.

And her name is Gertrude.

[END]