Higher Education

By IceMasterTurok2

PART ONE: DISCOVERY 

        Extraordinary.  That was what Erin had thought when she first looked at RHC46 in the microscope.  That was what she had written in her log notes when she examined the growth jars.  And that was the word that now hung off the tip of her lips as she stared into her friend Janie's glazed red eyes, who just thirty seconds ago had been stone sober and now likely couldn't tell you what day of the week it was.  Extraordinary. 

        Twenty four hours earlier Erin was sorting through plant specimens at the Druc Lab, an imposing 70s-era cube of brick and concrete four blocks off campus.  She was alone, which was not surprising.  Not many students at St. Mary's studied chemistry, not many of those students had organic chemistry as their concentration, and fewer still liked to do their lab work at 10 PM on a Saturday.  But Erin liked it.  She liked the solitude, the quiet, the calm.  She liked the meticulousness of it.  She liked how it was science closely linked to the natural world; sometimes she felt more like a farmer with all these plants and soil samples.  But most of all she liked the weed. 

        Not many people knew that Professor Frankle's current area of focus was THC manipulation.  Sometimes Erin suspected he was even hiding his field of research from the dean.  She figured he just told the higher ups he was working on plant samples in the basement of Druc and they left him alone.  And with good reason – they'd probably shut him down if they ever found out.  After all, most people heard Tetrahydrocannabinol and thought Cheech and Chong. But Professor Frankle believed that THC's unique cellular properties, especially in how the cannaboid bonded with enzymes in the human brain, could answer dozens of biochemical mysteries.  It was a drug – an illegal drug – but it was also a physiological tool. 

        So nerdy old Professor Frankle grew a small, but dense plot of marijuna plants under grow lamps in Druc, and each semester one carefully vetted junior majoring in organic chemistry – someone like Erin Parks - helped tend and analyze them.  Erin's job was simple; take different experimented-upon strains of marijuana, run them through various chemical tests to judge for different cellular development, and then dispose of the samples.  On paper, especially leaving out the marijuana part, it sounded pretty boring.  No wonder Erin had competed with so few applicants for the position.  It was only after she had been picked and found out exactly what type of plants Frankle was experimenting on that she realized she had hit paydirt. 

        Because Erin liked to smoke.  But more than that, Erin liked to deal.  College wasn't cheap, and her broke parents could barely make ends meet, let alone pay her tuition.  So freshman year Erin had started dealing weed.  She wasn't big time – just a dime bag here and an eighth there – but she felt like she had a real knack for it.  Her supplier (a boy named Carlos who had previously dealt on campus but was happy to transition to a middleman position) said she should consider a career as a salesperson. And when Erin got the Frankle job, she realized she could really step up her game.  She could smuggle out the weed she was supposed to dispose of in the lab and sell it as top shelf product.  It was twice a pure as Carlos's stuff and, better yet, she didn't have to pay him 30% of the profits. 

        Plus Erin didn't mind keeping a little bit of the professor's “research” for herself.  Once or twice a week she'd lock her door, put towels under it, sit beside the window, and enjoy a joint of some of the purest weed she'd ever tasted.  It had become a ritual, a way to deal with the stress of college.  Not the classes so much – more the people.  Erin knew she didn't fit the St. Mary's mold – it was a school for blonde bimbo sorority sisters, not girls like her with cropped black hair and black fingernails and a bookshelf of depressing Modernist poetry.  Not liberals.  And certainly not lesbians. 

        Erin sighed as she loaded another sample into the microscope.  Only her best friend Janie knew that she was into girls.  Her parents didn't.  Her other friends (and really, she wondered, what other friends?) didn't.  She once tried to broach the subject with her goodie-two-shoes roommate Dawn, but Dawn had shut the topic down as quickly as it had come up.  Dawn didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't curse, and she certainly didn't associate with lezzies. Erin knew that there must be other girls like her at St. Mary's to date, but if she was too alone and embarrassed to tell people she was gay how could she expect to find someone else? 

        Erin wrote down the name of the latest sample – RHC46 – and focused the microscope.  Another day, another two dozen tests.  She thought it was sad really that this was the highlight of her week, alone in a basement studying pot plants.  Then she glanced into the microscope and, examining the sample, a single word crossed her mind.  Extraordinary. 

PART TWO: TRIAL RUN 

        It took Erin a few moments to come to grips with what she was looking at.  Under the microscope the sample appeared denser than any she had ever encountered.  What was normally a spiderweb of connections looked like a quilt, almost a solid color.  She ran another sample of RHC46 and got the same result.  She checked her microscope – everything seemed fine.  She ran a chemical analysis and the results were just as strange.  The THC readings were literally off the chart.  What had Frankle created, she wondered.   

        She hopped off her stool and went over to the grow tent, walking through the rows until she came to RHC46.  It looked like all the other dwarf-hybrid marijuana plants – short but practically sagging under the weight of its robust harvest.  Thick, pungent nuggets of weed hung under almost every leaf, jockeying for space.  She snapped off a tiny nug and held it up to the light. The hairs on it were white and purple, a lovely combination that Erin hadn't seen before, but other than that it felt as sticky, smelled as earthy, and glistened with as many crystals as anything else in Prof. Frankle's crop. 

        Without thinking she pocketed the tiny nugget.  Erin tried to resume her work, but she couldn't concentrate on the other samples, all so dreadfully normal.  Would RHC46 be a major breakthrough for the professor?  Could this be the key the crazy old man was looking for to unlocking a world of biochemical mysteries?  Would she get any credit?  Or was it just a freak plant, with no real scientific merit?  These thoughts buzzed through her head.  Finally, after accidentally rereading the same sample entry data three times in a row she realized she wasn't going to be able to get any work done tonight.  She'd call Dr. Frankle from her dorm, tell him the good news, and finish up the rest of the samples tomorrow. 

        Erin locked up the lab, grabbed her bike, and headed home.  Would it be worth his time to bother him this late, Erin wondered.  Surely she could tell him in the morning.  After all, he was pretty old and probably already in bed.  And what if she had messed up the test or the sample's remarkable purity was inconsequential to his work?  Erin didn't want to look dumb.  By the time she reached her dorm she had made up her mind – she'd go over tomorrow morning, double check her work, and then give him a call. 

        As Erin unlocked her door she was greeted with the sound of bubbly Christian rock and the sugary sweet smell of fresh cookies.  She could see the buxom figure in the communal area, back to Erin, bopping to the music and adding frosting smiles to each cookie.  Erin tried to shuffle past to her room, but a gust of wind slammed the front door behind her and the figure turned. 

        “Hey, Dawn,” said Erin. 

        “Hey, Erin” said Dawn – Erin was amazed the girl could load so much derision into just three syllables. 

        “Making, uh, making cookies?” Erin asked. 

        “Obvi,” said Dawn, “the Tri Delt's are having a bake-off – each girl gets assigned a varsity athlete judge.  Last year I came in second to Tiffany Henderson, but this time I know I've got it.” 

        “Uh, what do you get if you win?” asked Erin, trying to be friendly. 

        Dawn rolled her eyes and said, “Gosh, nothing.  Only first pick at the Sadie Hawkins Spring Formal.  If I win the contest I can pick Zane and if I pick Zane I'm a shoe-in for Spring Queen.” 

        “That sounds great.  Well, good luck.” 

        Dawn looked Erin over, as if she had just realized what Erin was wearing.  Erin looked down at herself in embarrassment, suddenly feeling self conscious in her hoodie and jeans, and then up at Dawn  dressed in a necklace and sundress despite being all alone in the dorm. 

        “Did you wear that, like, outside?” Dawn asked. 

        “I was at the lab.  Nobody else was there.  What does it matter?” 

        “Whatever,” said Dawn, turning back to the cookies. 

        For a moment, just a moment, Erin blinked back tears.  She couldn't believe how easily Dawn got to her.  She had requested a transfer but to no avail.  Oh well, she thought, eke out a few more months and then she wouldn't have to talk to Dawn until graduation.  Erin made her way toward her room. 

        “And is that your laundry in the hallway?” Dawn called over her shoulder, “could you pick it up when you get a chance?  Cleanliness is next to godliness!” 

        Erin gritted her teeth, grabbed the laundry hamper, and dragged it after her into her room.  She locked the door and slumped into her bed.  Ugh.  She hated it here, hated Dawn, hated everyone.  Well, everyone but Janie, and maybe a few other people and professors.  Almost everyone.  Erin pulled her books out of her bag.  She had an organic chemistry problem set due Monday – what better way to spend a Saturday night?  But Dawn's comments had put her in a sour mood.  What was wrong with her clothes?   

        Should she call Janie?  Maybe, although Janie always had plans on a Saturday night.  While both girls were outliers are St. Mary's, thought Erin, not all outcasts were created equal.  The frat boys around campus didn't mind valley girl Janie with her fancy clothes and glamorous Los Angeles stories and party-hardy attitude.  Slightly goth, anti-social Erin, on the other hand, with her small drug dealing business and her closet lesbianism, wasn't exactly their cup of tea.  Erin still wasn't sure how they had become such good friends.   

        Erin reached into her pocket for her phone but instead came up with the tiny nug of RHC46, stuck to a piece of lint.  Well, thought Erin as she brought the small piece of weed close to her face, there's one way to get rid of a bad mood.  And what better way to see if there was anything special about this weed than smoke it?  She remembered from class that Jonas Salk had tested the polio vaccine on himself. 

        “I guess that makes me a scientist,” she said to herself with a giggle. 

        Erin began her smoking ritual, a process she had come to enjoy immensely.  First the towel under the door and the window locked.  Then the air freshener set up in the corner.  Then the small bag under the bed – choosing her tiny glass-blown piece she had named “Lil' Dave” over her bong or rolling a joint.  She broke off half the nug and crumbled it into the bowl.  Just a few hits, she thought. 

        She put the piece to her lips, flicked the lighter, and drew in, watching the flame catch and ignite the top layer of weed.  She kept inhaling, feeling the warm smoke draw into her lungs.  Then she took her finger from the carb and sucked in the last bit, the smoldering embers winking out.  It didn't taste any different than normal weed.  She sniffed the air – it had a nice fruity quality to it but that wasn't particularly unusual either.  It was smooth, and she could tell it was strong, but both were normal qualities of Frankle's very potent strains. 

        She took another hit.  The weed was sticky and damp, she had felt it when she crumbled the nug, and so she knew it would be slow burning.  She'd probably get 4 or 5 hits out of this small bowl alone.  She felt those first pleasant signs of highness beginning.  The tingling in her fingers and toes.  The haziness at the edge of her vision.  Maybe a little sooner than normal weed, but she didn't think it was anything worth noting. Already she could feel her frustration with Dawn slipping away, replaced with a pleasant calm. 

        Another hit.  Her last one, she decided.  She was feeling it now.  This was strong weed!  Nothing mind-blowing, but still, pretty great. Erin held in the smoke for as long as she could and upon exhaling was rewarded with a large, heavy cloud.  Her arms and legs felt nicely heavy.  Her brain was starting to feel warm and sluggish too, like it was wrapped in a blanket rocking in a cradle.  The problems of school, of roommates, of homework seemed far away now.  Strange, silly thoughts flitted through her head instead. She giggled once at nothing in particular and without thinking brought the piece to her lips and lit a fourth hit. 

        As she inhaled she realized she hadn't intended to take another hit, but whatever, who cared.  It was already in her lungs anyway – why waste smoke?  So she held onto it for a few seconds before letting it waft gently past her lips.  Her vision was starting to tunnel in the most lovely way.  She felt so sensitive too: her legs against the chair, her clothing on her skin, especially her nipples brushing against her bra. She snagged a glimpse of herself in her mirror and flashed a small smile at the girl staring back at her with deeply bloodshot eyes.  The high kept sinking in heavier and heavier.   

        This was nice, she thought.  So nice.   Erin decided she should do something.  Watch a movie? Reading was out – she already felt too stoned to focus on that.  Maybe some TV.....yeah.  TV was great.  She'd do that.  But in a minute.  Because right now she was feeling really good just sitting her, letting all the thoughts just pour out of her head.  Yeah, just sit for a minute, one more minute.  Then she'd do something.  Something?  TV, yeah, watch TV.  But first just relax a little......relax.......Erin's eyes drifted over to Lil' Dave.......relax............ 

        BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP 

        The alarm sounded like a cannon to Erin.  She reached out and slapped it, somehow connecting with the snooze button.  It was so bright in the room – when did it become so bright?  Erin's head felt like it was full of cotton balls, but slowly she pieced it together.  It's bright out, and the alarm went off, both of which happen in the morning.  The morning!  Erin sat up and rubbed her eyes.  She looked at the clock – it was 9:20 AM, already 20 minutes past when she had planned to the lab to finish her samples.  What had happened?  Had she passed out? 

        Erin looked down and saw that she was still fully clothed.  She was in her bed but on top of the covers, and the room's lights were on.  Holy crap – she had passed out.  She tried to remember the last thing she had done.  There was coming home, talking to Dawn, ugh, then smoking, and then....the smoking!  The weed!  Her eyes wandered down to the edge of her desk where she saw her piece Lil' Dave with blackened weed heaped within it.  Erin realized the other half of the nug was also crumbled in the bowl – when had she smoked all of it?   

        She tried to remember, but it was all a blur. She could remember the gestures – the flick of the lighter, the inhale of the smoke, the pleasant haze – but none of the circumstances.  It was like she had gotten blackout stoned off of little more than a bowl. Erin wondered what she was going to tell Frankle, if she had done anything regrettable last night, when she was going to get to her lab work.  But one question rose above all the others – what was up with this weed?

PART THREE: GUINEA PIG 

        Erin showered quickly, escaped the dorm without running into Dawn again, and made her way to Druc Lab.  For an hour she banished RHC46 from her mind, instead finishing up the rest of her unremarkable samples and completing her log notes.  Then she transferred her personal log notes to the reports she delivered to Professor Frankle.  She worked from the bottom up, so the last one was RHC46.  She looked at her notes – she had written “Extraordinary.”  She looked at the report.  Then back at her notes.  Finally, she rapidly scribbled “nothing of value,” the same phrase she had written for all the other samples.   

        Why did she just do that, she wondered.  But she knew.  It had been rolling around in the back of her mind since she woke up.  Frankle didn't realize what he'd created.  Sure, best case scenario it might lead to some major biochemical advances, get Frankle a new published article, make some pharmaceutical executives a couple extra million.  And all those things could still happen – once Erin was done with it.  Because for now, she was sitting on a goldmine.  This weed was strong, stronger than any she had ever seen, maybe stronger than any that had ever existed.  And Erin was the only one who knew about it.  The only one with access to it. 

        She could splice the plant. Grow some clones.  Sell it at twice the price of even her highest quality bud.  Pay off her tuition twice as fast.  Maybe even be able to afford a few of the “nicer” things that dealers in movies and tv always seemed to have.  All the while she'd keep sending innocuous reports to Frankle.  He'd never find out; he rarely even visited the lab.  And after she'd had her fun she'd act like she'd just discovered the plant's properties, and it would be all his.  Win win. 

        But first, she needed to know just how strong this weed was.  Last night was certainly not definitive enough, not for any self-respecting aspiring scientist.  She needed to find someone who would smoke while she observed.  Someone who could keep a secret.  Someone who wouldn't mind potentially getting baked out of their mind.  Erin flipped open her phone and called Janie. 

        “Uhhhh, whaaaaaat?” moaned Janie after picking up after ten rings. 

        “Rise and shine,” said Erin, “I need your help.” 

        “Uhh, can't I give you my help later?  Like at noon, when any real college student gets up on a Sunday.” 

        “Fun night?” Erin asked. 

        “You could say that.  Billy and I ended up having a Jager shot competition at that Mexican dive bar off Prospect.  At least I think his name was Billy.  Benny?” 

        “Jesus, Janie, have some self respect.” 

        “Just because I got hammered with some cute boy and blew him in the bathroom doesn't mean I don't have self respect.” 

        “Janie!” Erin exclaimed. 

        “Oh, sorry, would you rather I went diving for muff,” laughed Janie. 

        “Shut up!” 

        “Anyway, my head is pounding.  What do you want?” 

        “Um,” Erin wasn't sure how to explain this, so she decided to go with mostly honest, “I want to run a science experiment.  Not dangerous or anything, but not entirely, 100 percent legal either.  I need a guinea pig.” 

        “You wake me up on Sunday morning because you want to do an experiment on me? Freak. What's in it for me?” 

        “Other than my thanks? Well, I guess I can think of two reasons.  One, I'll finally show you Frankle's secret lab.” 

        “Hmmm, maybe,” said Janie, “what's the other reason?” 

        “You'll get to get totally fucked up.” 

        Erin waited with bated breath.  For a moment there was no response.  Then a low giggle. 

        “Sure, why the fuck not,” said Janie.

PART FOUR: EXPERIMENTATION 

        “This is insane!” said Janie. 

        Erin hadn't gotten around to explaining the experiment yet.  Janie had said she'd be at Druc Lab in 30 minutes, so predictably 60 minutes later Erin heard Janie pound on the door.  Erin let her into the primary lab, down the hall, through the coded door, and down into the basement.  Janie spent the next few minutes in shock, wandering up and down the aisles of pot plants. 

        “Jesus, I knew you had a secret supply for your top shelf shit, but this is nuts!  It's like Amsterdam down here!” 

        “Professor Frankle thinks he can use these plants to make some medical advances.” 

        “And you think you can use these plants to make some money, right?” said Janie with a laugh. 

        “You gotta promise me you won't tell anyone about this place,” said Erin. 

        “Yeah yeah, I promise.  Now tell me about this experiment.  Why am I getting fucked up?” 

        Erin sighed – might as well blurt it all out, “I think Frankle accidentally discovered a strain of super weed that I want to sell and get rich off of, but before I can sell it I need to test it on someone to see just how powerful it is.  So I want you to get very stoned and describe it.” 

        There was a long pause. Erin looked at her shoes. 

        “Jesus,” Janie said after a moment, “that's crazy.  That's totally totally crazy.” 

        “It's just that-” Erin began. 

        “I'll do it!” said Janie with a smile, interrupting her. 

        “You will?” 

        “Sure, why not.  I could get blazed right now.  I'm like a fucking astronaut.  So how do you want to do it? Do I smoke a joint? A bong?” 

        Erin pulled up a stool for Janie and she took a seat.  Erin then began fishing around in the cabinets, finally coming up with a long metal cylinder that resembled a helium tank.  Then she went through various drawers until she found a clear plastic gas mask that covered the nose and mouth. 

        “Not exactly,” said Erin, “I don't want to stink up the place.  Plus this way is more scientific.” 

        “What the hell is that?” 

        “Well it's a heat combustion chamber tank.  It's normally used to burn foods to measure calories but I think I can make it work. I'll attach the gas mask to the top and load some weed into its base, and it should vaporize the stuff for you to breathe.” 

        “Ohh, a vaporizer.  Why didn't you just say so?” 

        For a few moments Erin worked at it, placing a large nugget of weed in the base of the tank, checking the gauges, and attaching the gas mask's hose to the top release valve.  Finally it was ready.  She placed the tank beside Janie's stool and handed Janie the gas mask. 

        “So I just breathe it in and talk to you, and you'll just take notes?” 

        “That's the plan.” 

        “Cool!  Afterwards want to go to the dining hall?  I bet I'll have some serious munchies.” 

        “Ummm, you might be past munchies,” said Erin, “I don't think you understand how strong this stuff might be.” 

        “Puh-leez,” said Janie, “Look at this blonde hair and big tits.  Listen to my accent.  I'm a Cali girl!  And you ain't got nothing on Cali weed.” 

        And with that Janie strapped the gas mask to her face.  Erin shrugged, leaned down, and with little fanfare turned the nozzle.  There was a faint hiss.  Erin sat back in her stool opposite Janie's.  She could just make out the weed in the base of the canister turning brown and slightly smoky.   

        “I don't taste anything yet,” said Janie, giggling through the mask, “God, I must look like an idiot.  How did you convince me to do this again?” 

        “Because you're a party animal?” Erin suggested. 

        “Haha, true.  Although, wait, hold on, I think I taste it.  I think it's starting to vaporize.  Yeah.  Tastes like normal vaporized weed.  Kinda fruity.  I like it.” 

        Erin tried to keep quiet and just observe.  She just sat across from Janie and watched as Janie took slow, deep breaths, drawing the nearly invisible nearly odorless fumes into her lungs. 

        “I think I'm starting to feel it.  Yeah, yeah.  Feels like, hehe, like a vaporizer!  I'm sorry, you want more details than that?” 

        Erin nodded. 

        “Ugh, I guess, tingly?  I feel tingly? Yeah.  Kinda, hehe, kinda relaxed.  Everything gets a little fuzzy when I'm stoned.  It's kinda like that now.  Fuzzy, especially at the edges of my, you know.  Whew, I am feeling it now.  This is good weed.  How much did you load in?” 

        Erin wasn't entirely sure, certainly at least as much as she smoked last night, so she said, “A few nuggets.  Enough to get you plenty high.” 

        “Well I feel plenty high!  Mmm, this is fun.  Oh, sorry, I gotta describe better, um, I feel kinda woozy.  My skin's all sensitive.  I feel good, you know.  Like sorta out of it.  Sorta dreamy.  My arms and legs are heavy.  Or no, not heavy, just comfortable.  Like I don't want to move because it's so comfortable.” 

        Janie's eyes were noticeably red and already growing lidded.  Also, Erin could hear a slight slur in Janie's voice. 

        “It's hard to, like, you know when you're stoned, hard to think and shit.  Sentences are, hehe, tricky.  The room's really soft.  Sorry, does that sound totally stupid?  I feel totally stupid.  Stuuuupid. Hehe, that's a funny word.  Funny's a funny word too.  I'm glad I said yess, this is fun.  We should do it alll the tiime.  Do you wanna get in on thiis?” 

        “No, that's ok, it's all yours,” said Erin with a smile.  She wasn't sure why but she was finding herself a little turned on by this. 

        “Thass ok.....more for me!  Lets see, I feel...........hehe......what was I? Oh!  I feel goood?  Yeaahh.  Sleeepy kinda.  Hehe, horny kinda....my brain's so.......mmm, goood weed.  Erin's sooo smart, maaking suuuper weed......maaakes me alll....hehe......maybe, maybe I shouuld stop?” 

        But Janie made no move to turn off the nozzle or remove the mask.  Erin wasn't even sure she could at this point.  Her eyes were deep red and barely slits, her mouth slightly open, her body slouched forward on the stool.  And Erin didn't make a move to turn it off either.  She wanted to see how far it would go. 

        “I.......I......hehe....thoughts are...pretty.......yeah......hehehe......” 

        “Janie?” asked Erin, “Janie? You still in there?” 

        There was no response.  Just the hiss of the vaporized weed.  Erin looked into her friend's eyes and saw nothing at all looking back.  Janie's eyes were totally glazed over and barely open.  Same for her brain, thought Erin.  The only part of Janie's body moving was her right hand, which had strayed to her crotch and was absentmindedly stroking it.  Erin tried not to pay attention to that. 

        Erin waited a few seconds and then turned off the vaporizer.  Janie hardly reacted.  Erin glanced at her watch.  Less than a minute.  In less than a minute Janie had gone from completely sober to lights off upstairs.  And Janie wasn't a weed virgin, she smoked almost every weekend!  What is this stuff, thought Erin.  It was at least ten times stronger than any pot she'd ever encountered. 

        Erin gently removed the mask from Janie's face.  The strap was caught on her hair, so Erin leaned in closer to pull it loose.  She was so near Janie's face, with Janie's stoned hot breath on her, that without thinking she planted a kiss on Janie's lips.  Janie, too gone to know what was happening, kissed back.  Erin quickly pulled away. 

        “Ugh, get a hold of yourself, Erin,” she said out loud. 

        Erin put the canister on the table and the mask back in the drawer.  Then she helped Janie to her feet, not unlike helping a drunk off a bar stool.   

        “Come on,” said Erin, “I gotta put you to bed and it's a long walk to your room.” 

        Janie giggled.  Even with Erin supporting her Janie was barely able to stand, and she swayed back and forth like she was on the deck of a ship.  Left foot, right foot, Erin slowly led her out of the basement.  Well, she thought to herself, the experiment was a success.  This was some strong shit.  Now it was time to see if she could sell it. 

PART FIVE: FIRST SALE 

        “I don't know,” said Stephanie Pendergast. 

        Stephanie was one of Erin's regular customers.  She was a perky sorority sister, short with curly blonde hair, who liked to get stoned once a week or so with her girlfriends.  Erin found her adorably upbeat – she always referred to her smoke sessions as “my happy time!” exclamation point included. 

        “Trust me, it's worth it,” said Erin. 

        “But that's three times as expensive as a normal bag for the same amount,” said Stephanie, “that's probably as much per weight as like cocaine or something.” 

        “That's true,” said Erin, “but it's stronger than any weed you've ever smoked.” 

        “How much stronger?” asked Stephanie. 

        “Well I'd let you take a few puffs to test it out, but you've got class today.” 

        “I don't have class for like 3 hours!” she exclaimed. 

        “Yeah,” said Erin, “I know.” 

        Erin let that sink in.  By the glint in Stephanie's eye she could tell it had worked, even before she opened her mouth. 

        “Alright,” said Stephanie, “I'll try it.  What's it called?” 

        Erin was caught off guard – she hadn't thought of a name yet.  She lifted the baggie, looked at the white and purple-haired nuggets, and thought back to Janie's dull eyes as she floated in a euphoric stupor. She smiled. 

        “It's called Royal O,” she said. 

        “Why?” asked Stephanie. 

        “Because like your first orgasm – it's a life changing experience.” 

        After the exchange Erin ushered Stephanie out of her room, through the empty common room, and said goodbye at the front door.  Erin made sure to only conduct deals while Dawn was away, pretty easy considering Dawn's busy but regimented schedule and her excruciating promptness.  Which is why it was such a surprise when, ten seconds after Erin shut the door, Dawn entered. 

        “Who was that?” asked Dawn. 

        “Why are you home so soon?” asked Erin, hastily scrambling for an answer. 

        “My lab got out early, duh, why else?  Was that Stephanie Perdergast?  Why are you hanging out with Stephanie?” 

        “Oh, um, she missed a class and I gave her notes.” 

        “Why didn't you just give her notes in class?” 

        “I dunno,” was all Erin could muster. 

        Dawn raised an eyebrow, but all she said was, “Whatever,” as she brushed past. 

        Erin sighed with relief as Dawn began rifling through the cupboards in the common room. 

        “Did you steal my party streamers?” she asked. 

        “Why would I have stolen your goddamn streamers?” asked Erin. 

        “Such a filthy mouth,” said Dawn, “I need them tonight for the Choice Ball.” 

        “The what?” 

        “We're celebrating tolerance in abstinence from sex, drugs, and alcohol.  It's only the major campus event this weekend.  Who are you going with?” Dawn asked derisively. 

        Erin rolled her eyes and went back to her room, slamming the door.  She pulled out her phone and called Janie. 

        “My first sale!” she exclaimed as soon as Janie picked up. 

        “That's great,” said Janie. 

        “I'm going to be a drug kingpin – like Scarface!” 

        Janie laughed and then asked, “Can I be your second?” 

        “Sale?” asked Erin, “I thought you told me before you didn't want your best friend to be your dealer.” 

        “I know, but now you've got the best stuff on campus.” 

        “Are you sure you want more of it?  Last time I had to put you to bed and you were out of it for like half the day.” 

        “I know I know,” said Janie, “but it was so much fun!  Best weed I've ever smoked hands down.  Seriously, you should try it.” 

        Erin blushed.  She had yet to tell Janie about that first night sampling the weed.  But she could barely remember any of it – so that didn't count, right?  Maybe she owed herself a few puffs, just to see what the big deal was about.  Erin told Janie she'd bring an eighth by later in the day.  She hung up and sat on her bed for a minute, pretending to be mulling it over.  But she had already made up her mind.  The lock clicked, the sweatshirt went under the door, the candle lit, the joint rolled.  Before Erin could really even wrap her brain around what she was doing she was lifting a just-sparked joint to her lips.  But don't overdo it this time, she thought, just two hits and put it out.   

        She drew the warm smoke into her lungs, savoring its smoothness for a few seconds before exhaling a white plume toward the ceiling.  She waited a moment and then took another.  As soon as she took her second toke, even before exhaling, she snubbed the joint out and slipped it into her pocket. No monkey business this time.  She exhaled and could already feel a tingly warmth creeping up from her toes, a slight fuzziness at the edge of her vision.  Damn this stuff works fast, she thought. 

        How did she so easily convince herself to smoke?  What a spur of the moment decision, with Dawn in the common room and it being only about 1:30.  All it had taken was Janie's comment to plant the seed in her head, and just two minutes later she had decided to get a little afternoon high on.  Although her mom always told her she needed to be more impulsive.  But she probably wasn't talking about smoking super weed when she said that.  Erin smiled at the thought.  The smile stayed on her face, but she wasn't sure why she was smiling.  All of a sudden she wasn't really sure of anything.  But it was alright.  Everything was alright. A few minutes dropped off the clock.  A few more. 

        Erin's brain slowly drifted back into her head.  She glanced at the clock and realized she had zoned out for almost ten minutes.  She reached for a glass of water;  her arms and fingers felt like they were held up by balloons – so floaty and clumsy.  She took a sip and it was wonderfully refreshing.  God, just two hits and she was already as stoned as if she had smoked a full normal bowl.  Good thing she had put it out.  She considered the rest of the joint in her pocket, but quickly dismissed the idea. Rules were rules.  So instead she just sat there on her bed, enjoying the way her room looked, the way her skin felt, the way her thoughts seemed so silly and fragmented.   

        Except for one thought – the one that told her to unbutton her jeans and slip her hand under her panties.  That thought wouldn't go away.  And that other voice, the one that disagreed and told her to stay in control, was so quiet.  With rubbery fingers Erin unfastened and unzipped her jeans, slipping her hand inside and under her panties.  What am I doing, she hazily thought, but then her finger touched her clit and all those already scattered thoughts were replaced with white, blinding pleasure. 

        For the next few minutes there was no time or space in Erin's world – only pleasure.  Her index finger continued to stroke her clit while her middle finger slipped inside her pussy.  The motion was no different than any other masturbation session, but the sensation was as intense as any she'd ever felt.  Her body spasmed, her legs shook, her eyes rolled back in her head.  She could feel her dampness soak through her panties and into her jeans.  Her breathing went from heavy to ragged to panting, until finally she was biting her cheek to hold back her moans. 

        As she crept closer to orgasm she slowed her motions, finding that even the slow circle of her index finger on her clit and the slow sliding of her middle finger in and out of her pussy felt unbearably good.  She drifted there for a while, holding herself close to coming without tipping over the edge, her foggy brain barely able to hold on.  And then it came, unstoppable, like a tidal wave. No, tidal waves.  Wave after wave of sensation.  Her fingers quickened.  Her breathing stopped.  She arched her back.  The orgasm sent her whole body into a near-seizure, twitching and moaning alone on her bed.  Erin lost herself completely. 

        Slowly reality faded back in.  All of the senses numbed by pleasure returned.  She felt the wetness between her legs, saw the smoky haze still drifting in the room, tasted blood in her mouth from biting her cheek.  Holy shit, she thought, holy fucking shit.  That was amazing.  She hauled herself off the bed – she felt like she weighed 1000 pounds – and sauntered over to her mirror.  She looked at herself and liked what she saw.  Red, heavily-lidded eyes and a sultry smile.  That wonderful stoned feeling still flooded her body and mind. 

        “Royal O is right," she said aloud and then giggled, "this is some good weed." 

PART SIX: ALTERNATIVE PAYMENTS 

        Business was booming.  Erin decided to only sell Royal O to a few of her favorite customers, all of whom (likely not coincidentally) happened to be female.  For the rest she sold her normal product.  But every girl she convinced to sample Royal O wanted nothing else, and even though she told them to keep it on the DL they still often told their friends.  So just two weeks after selling her first baggie to Stephanie Pendergast, Erin had about two dozen clients clamoring for the stuff, way more than her normal half dozen regulars.  She had even had to splice clones of RHC46 to keep up with demand.  She'd already raised half of next semester's tuition. 

        And Janie was at the top of the list.  Erin wasn't sure, but it seemed like Janie was smoking up more frequently.  She had heard through another classmate that Janie had been skipping some of her morning classes (alright, skipping them more than usual), and twice Erin had come over to hang out with Janie only to find her already pleasantly stoned in her room.  Erin wanted to say something, but she didn't want to seem hypocritical.  After all, she was selling the stuff to Janie, plus she noticed she'd been upping her own intake too, albeit marginally.   

        Every four days or so she'd take a few puffs of her magic weed, just enough to shroud the whole world in a pleasant haze for a few hours.  And twice she'd rewarded herself with nearly a full bowl of Royal O, enough to leave her dead to the world for the rest of the night.  Although one of those times had been Janie's suggestion while they were hanging out – Janie already nicely buzzed – so that didn't count.  Erin thought she should cut back – smoke too much and you cut into your profits, drug dealer rule number one – but it was just so nice.  Especially watching tv with Janie in her room, the air thick with sweet-smelling smoke, the thoughts just pouring out of their heads. 

        Of course the increased activity also meant more to hide from Dawn.  There had been a few close calls with clients leaving just before Dawn's arrival, a few instances of Dawn suspiciously sniffing the air in their dorm.  Dawn hadn't said anything directly, but she had been asking a lot more questions, arriving home at unexpected times, like she was hoping to catch Erin in the act.   

        Erin was so wrapped up in thinking about how to avoid Dawn that she didn't see Stephanie approach until she was right on top of her. 

        “Hey, Erin!” said Stephanie, sidling up beside Erin. 

        “Hey,” said Erin, looking her over.  Stephanie was dressed nicely, but not quite as nice as usual.  She wore a fashionable sweatshirt instead of a normal blouse or dress, and her eyes were hidden behind thick black sunglasses.  As Stephanie stepped closer Erin could faintly smell weed, and Erin realized that Stephanie was stoned right now.  But it was the middle of the afternoon, not Stephanie's “happy time” with her girlfriends!  And Stephanie had just come from Union Hall – had she gone to class high?  That was not ordinary Stephanie Pendergast behavior, though Erin with a smile. 

        “I had a quick, uh, hehe, a teensy weensy question,” said Stephanie, “I was woonderin' if maybe you coulld, like, hehe, mayybe you could hook me up right now?  Cause I'm allll dry.” 

        “Sure,” said Erin, “anything for my favorite client.” 

        “There's juss, like, one thing,” said Stephanie, sheepishly looking down and crossing her legs, “I doon't really like, have anyyy money.  I mean my mom is sendding some sooon, probab, probably tomorrow, but I reaally wantted to smoooke now.” 

        “You seem pretty good to me,” said Erin. 

        Stephanie giggled naughtily and said, “I knoow, I juz wanna, like, keeep it goin'.  Having a little me day!  So I thoought mayybe I coulld pay wiith somethin else.” 

        “What?” asked Erin, a little taken aback. 

        Stephanie stepped forward and took of her glasses, revealing deeply bloodshot eyes.  Erin had to admit she found the sight pretty sexy. 

        “I seeen how you look,” said Stephanie, “yoouu look at mee like the boys do. It's ok, it's ok!  I doon't mind.  I kinda like it.  So maaybe we coulld, you know.....trade somethin'.” 

        Erin could not believe what she was hearing.  This was some straight up drug dealer movie shit.  Was Stephanie really offering what she thought she was offering?  Stephanie was not the kind of person  Erin had thought she was, at least not while stoned.  How badly did she want to smoke?  And what type of girl did Stephanie think Erin was?  Did she really think she'd trade, what exactly, for more weed?  Hell, all Stephanie needed to do was ask and Erin would front her some.  But as Erin looked into Stephanie's stoned eyes she couldn't bring herself to say so.  Guy dealers got these perks.  They got “bitches,” they got “freebies,” they got “gifts.”  Why couldn't she?  It had been so long since she'd got any attention of that kind other than her own.  This was crazy.  This was batshit crazy.  But that didn't stop the next sentence from coming out of Erin's mouth: 

        “Sure, lets go to my place.  I'm sure we can work something out.” 

        *** 

        Erin moaned in ecstasy, staring up at the ceiling and clenching the sheets in her fist.  She looked down her body and saw the top of Stephanie's head, her blonde curls spilling over Erin's crotch.  Erin reached down and lifted the hair so that she could see Stephanie's tongue darting in and out of Erin's pussy. 

        Erin had checked the room when they arrived – Dawn seemed to be out – and then had let Stephanie in.  She had handed a joint to Stephanie, and she wasn't sure which of them had suggested that Stephanie smoke it there instead of taking it home.  Either way, Stephanie was happy to oblige, and it took her just a few puffs to work up the courage (or, more likely, to quiet down her conscience enough) to lean forward and begin aggressively, wetly kissing Erin.  Stephanie's stoned kissed were pretty sloppy, but it wasn't long before she found her way down to Erin's breasts and then to between her legs.   

        Erin had laid back on the bed, fully clothed, and Stephanie had climbed on top, clumsily pulling down Erin's pants and panties.  Stephanie didn't seem to be much of a pro at eating pussy, but she made up for her lack of skill with enthusiasm.  Her tongue hungrily lapped at Erin's clit, and Erin noticed that Stephanie had put her hand between her own legs and was simultaneously fingering herself.  Royal O seemed to do wonders for inhibitions.   

        Speaking of which, Erin noticed the joint still smoldering on the bedside table.  The room was slightly smoky, and Erin felt quite a buzz.  Even the secondhand smoke from her special pot was enough to get her a little baked.  Erin lifted the joint and took a puff, savoring the decadence of the moment – smoking weed while getting eaten out.  It felt like it should be a rapper's music video.  Erin shuddered with pleasure; the combination of potent weed and Stephanie's frenzied licking was bringing her close to coming. 

        Erin had an idea to savor the moment.  With her free hand she tapped Stephanie on the shoulder.  Stephanie looked up from Erin's crotch, pussy juices running down her chin.  Erin held out the joint. 

        “Take a puff,” she said, holding the joint by the middle and lifting the tip toward's Stephanie's lips. 

        Stephanie didn't need any convincing.  She closed her lips around the joint and took a puff.  She held it for a moment, exhaled, and started to return to Erin's crotch, but Erin stopped her. 

        “Take another,” she said, not sure where this new commanding voice had come from. 

        Stephanie took another, and Erin made her take a third after that.  The weed was so strong and worked so fast that Erin could actually see Stephanie sink deeper into her stupor.  Her glassy eyes glazed over, her jaw grew slack, her eyelids slid even farther down.  Erin didn't know why, but she found it all astonishingly sexy. 

        “How you doing?” asked Erin. 

        “Imma, mmm, hehe, yeahhhh,” said Stephanie with a dopey smile. 

        Erin pressed down on Stephanie's head and Stephanie settled back between Erin's legs.  There was a pause, as if Stephanie was trying to remember what she was doing down there, and then she began lapping at Erin's clit.  She was slower now, her tongue motions more lethargic. 

        “That's better,” sighed Erin. 

        Then Erin brought what remained of the joint to her own lips, took a puff, and let the mind-dulling smoke take her away. 

        Hours later, when the smoke had cleared and Erin was sober enough to handle herself and Stephanie was sober enough to at least walk and talk, Erin escorted Stephanie out of her room.  Stephanie kept her hand in her pocket, clutching her fresh baggie of weed.  As they moved toward the front door Erin spotted Dawn in the common room ironing.  Shit, she thought, maybe just maybe she won't say anything.  Dawn looked up in surprise as Stephanie and Erin passed through it. 

        “What.....have you two been in there this whole time?” asked Dawn, “What are you guys doing?” 

        Erin had no idea how to answer.  She looked to Stephanie, and Stephanie burst into a fit of giggles.  Erin, unable to help herself, started laughing too. 

        “What's so funny?” asked Dawn petulantly. 

        Without a word the two girls stumbled out of the apartment, leaving Dawn staring angrily and confusedly after them. 

        “You good to get home?” Erin asked, as they parted ways on the quad. 

        “Yeah, I'm, hehe, yeah, I'm good.  Just, like, reg'ularly stoooned.” 

        “Ok, good.” 

        “I'm, thaz like not, you know, somethin' I normally do,” said Stephanie sheepishly. 

        “That's ok,” said Erin, “I'm always open to...alternative forms of payment.” 

        Stephanie smiled, then giggled, and then clumsily walked away toward her own dorm.

PART SEVEN: SIDE EFFECTS 

        “No fucking way,” said Janie. 

        Erin had just finished explaining what had happened with Stephanie.  She was standing in Janie's room, Janie sprawled out on her bed listening intently.  A slight haze hung in the air – Janie had taken a bong hit to – as she put it - “take the edge off.”  Just enough to give her a good buzz. 

        “I know.  It was crazy.  Like something out of Traffic.” 

        “And you said yes? Holy shit, I can't believe you said yes,” said Janie. 

        “You're missing the point,” said Erin, “in just two weeks Stephanie Pendergast went from perky sorority sister to stoner willing to eat pussy for a dime bag.  That's crazy.” 

        “Not as crazy as you saying yes to it!  I can't believe you let a girl trade sexual favors for drugs.  That's like real drug dealer behavior, not Erin my friend who deals on the side behavior.” 

        “Why do boys get stuff like that and I can't?  Do you know how long it's been since I've gotten any?  It didn't cause any harm, and everybody got what they wanted.” 

        “Jesus, listen to you,” said Janie, “you sound like you think it's totally acceptable behavior.” 

        “Well, I dunno, maybe it is.  If that's how she wants to pay...” 

        “How she wants to pay?  What are you saying?  That you might keep doing this?” 

        “I dunno,” said Erin, grinning, “maybe Royal O could help me get new customers and new action.” 

        “You are unbelievable,” said Janie, reaching for the bong, “Oh, do you mind if I...?” 

        “No, go ahead,” said Erin, but Janie was already lifting the bong to her lips. 

        “But none of this is my point,” Erin continued as Janie exhaled a large plume toward the ceiling, “my point is – what do we know about RHC46?” 

        “What?” asked Janie. 

        “Royal O, the weed.  We've already figured out that it's at least ten times stronger that normal pot.  Just two puffs and you're baked, a whole bowl and you're gone.” 

        “Hehe, tell mee aboout it,” said Janie, a noticeable slur to her voice and her eyes starting to droop. 

        “Well my question is – what if all the other things associated with weed are also ten times stronger?  Look at Stephanie, how willing she was to do what she did.  Maybe it lowers your inhibitions way more than normal weed?  Maybe it makes you way hornier or hungrier or sleepier than normal weed?  Maybe it makes you dumber way faster?  What if it's more addictive?  You know how when you smoke sometimes all it makes you want to do is smoke more?” 

        “Mmmhmm,” said Janie, eying her bong lovingly. 

        “What if Royal O makes you want to get baked all the time?” 

        Erin looked to her friend for a response, but Janie was instead caught up in taking another hit.  The lighter flicked, the bong gurgled, and a white column of smoke raced past Janie's lips into her lungs.  Janie flashed Erin a guilty smile and exhaled.  Erin felt it a little now too just from the built up smoke – a pleasant tingling in her body, a softness in her brain. 

        “Sh'orry,” slurred Janie, “whaat, like, whhaat didya saay?” 

        “No offense Janie,” Erin said, “but when did you become such a pothead?  Are you worried about what Royal O might do to people?” 

        “Yeessh,” said Janie with a smile, “it miiight make'um feeeel goood!!” 

        Well, this conversation wasn't going anywhere, thought Erin.  Janie extended the bong toward Erin. But if you can't beat them, join them.  Erin took it and quickly ripped a single hit.  She didn't want to get stoned, but a warm buzz would be nice.  She could practically feel the weed soak from her lungs into her bloodstream.  Janie was right, it did feel good. 

        “Oh, ok, ok,” said Erin, shaking her head to concentrate, “I'm gonna go to the lab and look at some samples.” 

        “Booo!” giggled Janie, “sch'tay and smooke!” 

        “Another time,” said Erin, although it was very tempting. 

        Erin left Janie's and headed over to the lab, letting the pleasant weed sensation pulse through her body.  It was cold out, but she didn't feel it.  She was worried about Royal O, even a little worried about Janie, but that bong hit had put her mind a little bit at ease.  She was sure she would figure something out, or that everything would work out fine in the end.  She put her hand to a tree for a moment to steady herself.  Whew, that stuff was strong.  That one hit had probably given her more than just a buzz.  Erin giggled to herself and then kept going. 

        If fully sober Erin might've noticed the figure following her to the lab, and she certainly would've noticed that she left the keycode door to the basement of Druc unlocked.  But she wasn't fully sober.  And so as Erin went about setting up the microscope to re-examine RHC46 samples, Dawn slipped into the lab behind her.

PART EIGHT: CAUGHT 

        “What IS this?” 

        Erin heard the voice behind her and instantly recognized it.  In the half second it took her body to turn around she prayed that someone was playing a joke on her, that she was hearing things, that she was going crazy.  Anything other than what she knew it must be. 

        But when she turned there was Dawn, standing in the middle of the Druc Lab basement, looking as anachronistic in her white skirt and Chanel top as a rocket ship in a Shakespeare play.  Erin tried to think of something to say, anything to say, but her slightly fuzzy mind was having trouble catching up. 

        “Dawn, what are you...how did you...” stammered Erin, but Dawn was already brushing past her, staring at the rows of pot plants. 

        “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my FUCKING gosh,” said Dawn. 

        “Dawn, I can explain,” said Erin, but Dawn didn't seem to hear. 

        “I knew you were up to something!  I knew it!  But I never imagined...look at this place!  It's like Weeds or Breaking Bad or whatever,” said Dawn, wandering through the plants, her eyes wide. 

        “Dawn, you can't tell anyone,” said Erin, “I'm begging you.  You have to keep it a secret.” 

        “Keep what a secret?” asked Dawn, turning to face Erin, “that you're a freaking drug dealer?  You're a criminal!  It's like a whole criminal empire down here!” 

        “No, it's not that at all.  It's a science experiment.  Professor Frankle, he runs it.  I'm just in charge of...I sell some but not a lot,” Erin realized how ridiculous she sounded. 

        “I knew you couldn't be so suddenly popular on your own,” said Dawn. 

        “Please,” said Erin softly, “they'll expel me.  If you tell, I'll get kicked out.” 

        “Good,” said Dawn icily, “you should be expelled.  Freaks like you don't belong here.  And everyone is going to know why.” 

        Anger flashed through Erin.  Without thinking she reached out and shoved Dawn. 

        “Hey!” exclaimed Dawn. 

        Dawn made to brush past Erin toward the stairs, but Erin shoved her again.  Dawn pushed back at Erin, and Erin grabbed Dawn by the arms.  The girls began to struggle, Dawn fighting to get to the stairs and Erin pushing her back toward the wall.  Erin wasn't sure what she was doing – she just knew she couldn't let Dawn leave.  Erin forced Dawn backwards, steering her toward the open supply closet a few feet behind them. 

        “Let go of me!” shouted Dawn. 

        With one last violent push Erin shoved Dawn in through the open door.  Dawn stumbled backwards, tripping over a pile of buckets and mops.  Erin slammed the door shut and braced herself against it.  She heard Dawn inside the closet rise to her feet and charge the door.  Dawn struggled with the handle, but Erin had it held shut. 

        “Let me out!” Dawn shouted, muffled through the door, “Let me out!” 

        Dawn began to pound on the door, kicking and shouting as well. Erin wasn't sure what to do.  Her mind was racing.  She couldn't let Dawn out.  She'd be expelled for sure.  But she couldn't kidnap Dawn, couldn't keep her in a supply closet forever.  She needed time to think, time to come up with a plan.  But she couldn't concentrate with all that banging and shouting, noises that were sure to draw attention. 

        Erin looked around the room.  On the table, just within reach, was the vaporizer canister - still loaded with the rest of the large nugget of Royal O she had tested on Janie.  Erin instinctively grabbed it with one hand, keeping her body tight against the door.  She opened the valve completely and wedged the canister against the ground so the nozzle was pointed under the crack in the supply closet door.  She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing, but she could see a light haze spray out the nozzle and under the door, and could faintly hear the hiss between Dawn's shouts. 

        “Let me out!” shouted Dawn, banging and pounding, “Open the door!  Erin, open the door!” 

        Erin held fast.  She could see the weed in the base of the canister brown and turn to vapor.  She prayed that Dawn would be so caught up in her struggle that she wouldn't be able to hear or smell it. Erin wasn't positive what she hoped the vaporized weed would do, but she hoped it would work fast, if only to quiet Dawn and give her some time to think. 

        “Just calm down!” shouted Erin, “Calm down and I'll let you out!” 

        “Let me out right now!” shouted Dawn, “This is kidnapping! Let me out!” 

        “Just calm down,” said Erin, “Please just take a few deep breaths and we can talk this out.” 

        “Talk what out?” shouted Dawn with another bang on the door, “That you're a drug dealing kidnapping freak? Let me out!” 

        Erin slid down to the floor and pressed her back against the door, pushing her feet against the table to hold the door shut.  Was it her imagination or was Dawn's banging against the door getting weaker?  Maybe she was just getting tired?  They didn't seem as forceful as they had moments ago. 

        “Lets me......let me out!” shouted Dawn, her voice a little softer, “Let.......Erin......Let me.....what's?   What's going on?  Erin....you gotta......you're gonna get, get expelled...” 

        “Calm down,” said Erin through the door, “please Dawn, calm down.” 

        Dawn's pounding was definitely weaker now.  The seconds between each kick grew longer and longer.  Erin felt like it took barely any force to keep the door shut on Dawn. 

        “Erin....” said Dawn, her voice sounding confused and slurred, “Erin.....whazzzz......Erin you gotta.....hehe.......Erin......lemme out......lemme......my head, it's all.......why is evverythingg sooo fuzzzy, fuzzzz, fuzz......Erin.....” 

        Slowly Dawn trailed off.  The banging died out too.  No more shouting, no more noise.  Erin's heart was beating at a mile a minute.  She let a few seconds pass, a few more.  Still no noise from inside the closet.  The hiss of the vaporizer canister died away as it burned the last of the weed.   

        Erin waited another minute and then called out, “Dawn?” 

        There was no response. 

        “Dawn?” she asked again, rising to her feet. 

        She moved away from the door and Dawn made no effort to open it from the inside.  Erin placed her hand on the handle.  She took a deep breath, bracing herself.  Then she opened the door.  A slightly opaque cloud of vapor drifted out, dissipating into the air of the lab.  Dawn was in the back of the closet, sitting on the floor.  She looked up at Erin, and Erin saw that her eyes were deeply bloodshot and half-lidded. 

        “Errin.....?” slurred Dawn – she seemed incredibly confused, “Whass.....whass goin' onnn?” 

        Jesus, thought Erin, she is stoned out of her mind.  Erin hesitantly entered the closet and walked over to Dawn.  She extended a hand, and when Dawn didn't take it, she grabbed Dawn's hand herself.  She helped Dawn to her feet, and Dawn tottered out of the closet, almost slipping twice.  Dawn stumbled into the lab and braced herself against the table. 

        “Why....whyyy am I inna clossset?” asked Dawn. 

        “You don't know why you're here?” asked Erin. 

        “I whaaat?......I was......I was walkin.......following youuu I thiiink....I dunno.” 

        Dawn giggled.  Her body swayed in place.  Erin couldn't believed that had worked.  Dawn was so baked that she had no idea what was going on, what had just happened.  A part of Erin's brain told her to savor this moment – her asshole goody-two-shoes roommate completely blazed.  But Erin knew she had to act now, had to get Dawn out of her, out of the lab, before she sobered up or remembered anything. 

        “We gotta go home, Dawn,” said Erin. 

        “Whyy are weee inna.....inna scien, sice, scieeence lab?” asked Dawn, looking around the room, “wittth all thooose.....plaaants?  Hehe, plannnts.” 

        Shit, thought Erin.  Dawn was asking too many questions.  She was wasted, but not so wasted that she might not realize what was going on.  She needed to be totally out of commission if Erin had any hope of pulling this off.  Erin looked to the canister, but it was completely empty.  She could refill another, but how would she convince Dawn to breathe it in?   

        Erin remembered the mostly unfinished joint in her pocket.  The craziest thought crossed her mind.  Crazy, but she couldn't think of any other option.  But could it actually work?  Only one way to find out.  Erin pulled the joint and a lighter from her pocket. 

        “We were smoking pot, that's what we were doing down here,” she said to Dawn, trying to sound authoritative. 

        “Smokin....but..but....I don't smoooke.  I don't eveenn driink,” said Dawn, a look of confusion on her face. 

        “You wanted to try it out.  We already smoked some and now you wanted to smoke more.” 

        “We....we diid?” 

        “That's why you feel so funny.  Don't you feel funny?” 

        Dawn scrunched up her nose in thought, and then smiled, “I dooo feeel funny.” 

        “That's because you're high.  You're very high.” 

        “Hiiigh?” 

        “Do you feel good?” 

        “Mmmhmm.” 

        “Do you like how you feel?” 

        “Mmmhmmm.” 

        “So I guess you must like smoking pot then.” 

        “I guesss.....I guuess sooo,” said Dawn; she couldn't remember for sure, but Erin sounded so confident, as if it made all the sense in the world. 

        “And now do you want to feel even more good?” 

        After a moment Dawn nodded. 

        “Well then we should smoke more.” 

        “Ohhh.....ok.” 

        Erin lit the joint and held it out to Dawn.  She told her to bring it to her lips and inhale gently, holding the smoke in her lungs as long as possible.  For a moment she was scared that Dawn wouldn't, that the jig was up.  But Dawn, lost in her pleasant haze, didn't argue.  She took a puff, held it, and exhaled a tiny cloud of smoke. 

        “No,” said Erin, “you need to take a bigger puff.” 

        Dawn did so.  Then with clumsy fingers she handed it back to Erin.  Erin took the lit joint, held it in her hand for a moment, and then gave it back to Dawn. 

        “Your turn again,” said Erin. 

        “Izz not.....izz noott yourr....” 

        “No, I just took a hit.  It's your turn.” 

        Dawn felt too relaxed and stupid to argue.  She brought the joint to her lips and took another hit.    After she exhaled she glanced down and saw the joint still between her fingers.  Was it still her turn?  She wasn't sure, so she took another puff. 

        Erin only had to wait a few seconds for the super weed to do its work.  Dawn's eyes grew glassier, her arms hung by her side.  She dropped the joint on the ground and Erin picked it up and snubbed it out.  Dawn slumped over on the table, barely able to hold herself up.  Her mouth hung open and a thin trail of saliva dripped out.  She giggled once at nothing in particular.  She was completely gone. 

        “You in there?” asked Erin, but there was no response. 

        “Good girl,” she said, “now lets get you home and in bed, and if we're lucky you won't remember a thing.” 

        Erin helped Dawn off the table and together they stumbled toward the door. 

        “Did you enjoy getting stoned?” joked Erin. 

        She could swear she saw Dawn smile slightly.

PART NINE: UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES 

        Erin barely slept that night.  All she could think about was stoned Dawn sleeping in the next room over.  When she woke up would she remember what happened?  The closet? The fight? The weed?  Or would it all just be a fuzzy haze? Erin realized her future, both selling and at college in general, might depend on these next few hours. 

        The next morning Erin was picking at a bowl of cereal, forcing herself to eat, when she heard Dawn's door open.  Erin held her breath.  She stared down into her cereal, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.  Dawn shuffled into the room in her pajamas and sat on the couch. 

        “Morning,” said Erin hesitantly. 

        “Morning,” said Dawn, rubbing her head. 

        Erin wanted to leave it alone, but couldn't resist, “How was your night?” 

        “My night?” asked Dawn, furrowing her brow, “it was....um....fine?  I guess, yeah, fine.” 

        Erin nodded.  She went back to a cereal and for a moment neither girl said anything. 

        “Actually,” said Dawn, “I have something I need to ask you.” 

        Erin tensed up.  Dawn rose and approached Erin, sitting in the chair opposite her.  Here it comes, thought Erin. 

        “I need to ask you a favor.  But it's kind of embarrassing.” 

        A favor?  What was she talking about? 

        “I have a friend, one of the girls in my sorority.  She said she wanted to, well, she wanted to try, you know, marijuana.  I don't approve of that type of stuff at all, but she is my sister, so I told her I'd ask around.  And I thought, maybe, you might.....have some.” 

        “Why did you think that?” asked Erin, unsure if this was a trap. 

        “Jesus, Erin, I don't know, because you dress like a freaking weirdo.  I don't know where to get, you know, drugs.  Plus you're friends with Janie and everyone knows she likes to party.” 

        Slowly, very slowly, what was going on dawned on Erin.  Not only did Dawn not remember the night before, but Dawn wanted weed.  Obviously this whole sister thing was bullshit.  Who hadn't heard the “I want it for a friend” excuse before?  Dawn, new to things like this, must've thought it was an original idea.  Surely these two events couldn't be unrelated – getting Dawn stoned on Royal O to make her forget the evening and Dawn asking for weed the next morning.  But what was the connection? 

        And then Erin realized that too.  It was possibly the greatest realization she would make with Royal O.  Certainly the one that would change her business forever.  Royal O intensified all the effects of weed smoking – the high, the desire to be high, the lethargy, the forgetfulness.  But that meant it also likely affected another attribute of being stoned.  It heightened suggestibility.  The way you could be easily convinced when stoned – Royal O must make that sensation ten times stronger too!  Last night Erin had told stoned Dawn that she liked smoking pot, that she wanted to smoke pot.  And now here, 12 hours later, for a reason Dawn probably couldn't even fully understand, she wanted to smoke. 

        Holy shit, thought Erin, it's like mind control.  Primitive and mild, but still, she had influenced Dawn's opinion.  She had fundamentally changed how Dawn thought about weed – from an evil drug to something she wanted to try. 

        “Yes,” said Erin, “sorry to give you a hard time.  I think I've actually got some Janie left in my room.  I'll be right back.” 

        Erin rose and entered her room.  She pulled a bag from under her bed and removed two items from it.  One was a joint of normal weed.  The other was a joint of Royal O.  It would be wrong to give Dawn the Royal O, to take advantage of her like that.  Her system would be totally unprepared for the super weed – it would be like giving booze to a baby.  And who knows what other effects it could have on her?  The right thing to do, the friendly thing to do, would be to give Dawn a normal joint and let her have her fun. 

        But Erin thought back to how Dawn had treated her in the past.  Month after month of ridicule, of insults, of snobbery.  Dawn's disdain dripping from every word she said.  Dawn had followed Erin to the lab.  Dawn had wanted to see her expelled.  Even now, asking for a favor, she had called Erin a freak.  Time to teach that bitch a lesson, thought Erin.  She put the normal joint back in the bag and returned to the common room. 

        “Here you go,” said Erin, handing the Royal O joint to Dawn, “tell your sister to have fun.” 

        “Uh, yeah, thanks,” said Dawn, awkwardly pocketing the joint. 

        “Don't mention it. Anyway, I gotta go study for my final.” 

        Erin grabbed her books and headed out the door.  On the walk to the library she figured out the schedule in her head.  Dawn would likely be too nervous to try marijuana for the first time (or what she thought was her first time) outside of her room.  So she'd wait for a time when she knew Erin would be out for several hours.  Erin figured it would be Monday – two days from then – when Erin had two classes and a lab in a row.  Dawn would smoke then, assuming she'd have plenty of time to try it out and then clean out any evidence long before Erin got home.  She'd get high once, enjoy it, get the urge out of her system, and never tell a soul. 

        And with any normal weed she'd be right.  But Dawn wouldn't be ready for Royal O.  Erin could practically envision what would happen, how Dawn would sink into a pleasant stupor after just a few puffs, how the drug would whisper in her ear until she smoked the whole joint.  And then her brain would check out completely.  With any luck, Erin would come home Monday after lab to find a zonked out Dawn sprawled out in her room.  Erin wasn't sure what she'd do with Dawn, but she knew it'd be fun. 

        

        Erin bided her time for two days.  A few discreet sales.  A few awkward interactions with Dawn.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  But after she got out of her Monday lab she basically ran home, eager to see if she was proven right. 

        And boy was she.  She opened the front door to their dorm and a wave of pot smoke washed over her.  The only thing Erin got wrong was the location – Dawn must've decided it'd be best to smoke in the common room and then aerate it out – bigger windows and fewer of her precious clothes she might stink up.  Erin stepped into the haze of the common room, and at its center was Dawn, draped over the couch.  Dawn stared up at the ceiling with glassy, deeply red eyes.  She smiled and giggled to herself.  Her arms and legs hung limp around her.  A burnt roach sat on the coffee table. 

        “Hey there!” said Erin with a grin, practically skipping over to Dawn, “how's it going roommate?” 

        “Errrrinnnn,” slurred Dawn after a few seconds, “whaaaa, you'ree, hehe, youu're hoome earrleee.” 

        “No I'm not.  I'm home right on time.” 

        Dawn giggled again.  Jesus, thought Erin, Dawn probably smoked five or six hours prior and was still totally fucked up.  Erin sat down beside Dawn, enjoying every second of this.  In the lab she had been terrified, and with good reason.  But now she could savor the moment – revel in her stuck up bitch of a roommate being a drugged up mess. 

        “I didn't realize you smoked,” said Erin innocently. 

        “You weeereen't....hehe.....you'ree not supposssed to seee mee hiiiiigh.” 

        “Let me guess?  You were going to smoke, enjoy a few hours, and clean up long before I got home?” 

        Dawn nodded with a smile. 

        “Well I don't mind at all,” said Erin, “you can smoke all you want as far as I care.” 

        “Sooo, you're sooo niiice,” slurred Dawn. 

        “That is, if you like it.  So what do you think? Do you like it?” 

        “I....I....loooove itt,” said Dawn, giggling. 

        “That's fantastic,” said Erin, “I'd love to help you love it even more.” 

        For the past two days Erin hadn't been sure what she'd do if she found Dawn baked out of her mind on Royal O.  Would she take pictures of her and blackmail her?  Would she file it away in her brain to laugh whenever Dawn was pissing her off?  Would you convince Dawn to do something embarrassing?  But now, sitting next to her, feeling a little good herself thanks to the pent up weed smoke, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. 

        “If you'd wanted to smoke, you could've just asked me,” she said. 

        “I didddn't....I meaan.....I'm Dawn Mercceerr!  Peeopplle can't.....they caan't....hehe, I feeeel so silllly.” 

        “There's just so much fun stuff about smoking that I could've taught you.  Do you want to learn?” 

        Dawn nodded.  It was like taking candy from a baby.  Erin reached into her purse and pulled out a tightly rolled joint of Royal O.  Dawn eyed the joint hungrily, struggling up from a slouch.  Erin wafted it in front of Dawn's face. 

        “Of course you do.  How about we burn a few joints?” 

        “Thaa soounds niiice,” said Dawn. 

        “I'm sure you don't have much planned for the day.  At least not anything you can't cancel.  So maybe lets just stay in and have a girl's night?” 

        Erin sparked the joint and handed it to Dawn.  Dawn's clumsy fingers drew it to her mouth and took a toke.  She already looked like a natural.  Erin smiled. 

        “Yeah,” she continued, “we'll smoke and talk about how much fun smoking pot is, how much you're going to love it.  Who knows, maybe you'll take a shine to it.” 

        Erin knew, even with giving Dawn the vast majority of the tokes, she was still going to end up pretty stoned herself with the smoke building up and the occasional puff.  But it would be worth it.  Plus, thought Erin, taking a small puff from the joint before passing it back to Dawn, her last few days had been so stressful.  She deserved a good time.

PART TEN: NEW FRIENDS 

        “Are you sure that's a good idea?” asked Janie, as Erin handed her the joint. 

        Erin had called Janie, asking if she wanted to come over and hang out, and now the two were sitting on the couch in Erin's common room. Wednesday afternoon sunlight streamed in through the windows. 

        “You said you wanted to smoke – why wouldn't it be a good idea?” asked Erin with a mischievous smile. 

        “Because, like, you know, isn't Dawn going to be home from class any minute?” 

        “You know what,” said Erin, “I think you're right.” 

        With perfect timing the girls heard the click of the lock, and Dawn walked in the front door.  She dropped her Gucci backpack with a sigh and moved toward her room, but froze when she was Erin and Janie on the couch.  Janie froze up too, eyes wide, sure she was about to be chewed out or worse. 

        “You guys going to smoke?” asked Dawn, “Mind if I join? I smoked up before class but it's like almost totally worn off.” 

        “Sure,” said Erin. 

        Janie was speechless.  She just sat there in shock as Dawn sat beside them, Erin fired up the joint, and Dawn was the first to take a monster hit.  Janie looked at Erin, but Erin just smiled, clearly enjoying Janie's surprise.  What the hell was going on? Dawn Mercer didn't smoke weed!  She practically ran the Chastity Coalition; she organized Abstinence Balls; she- 

        “Janie,” Dawn interrupted her thought, “it's your hit.” 

        “Oh, yeah,” said Janie, taking a hit. 

        She felt the lovely smoke flood her lungs and for a moment that was all she cared about – that magic Royal O softening her thoughts, warming her body.  But then she snapped back to reality and realized if she wanted to find out what was going on, she needed to ask now.  It would only take a few more puffs before she'd be unable to do much of anything, let alone get to the bottom of this surreal situation. 

        “So Dawn,” she asked, trying to sound casual, “I didn't know you smoked.” 

        “Mmm,” said Dawn, taking another hit, “I just started like a few days ago.  Before that I had never smoked in my life! Isn't that like totally freaking nuts? I can't believe I waited so long! I just...” Dawn trailed off, the second hit already sinking in, “what was I saying?” 

        “You were telling me how you started smoking weed,” said Janie. 

        Janie took her second hit.  Her vision was starting to tunnel.  She concentrated – she really wanted to know how this miracle of miracles happened.  But god, everything was so floaty.  How could anyone care when the whole world was so light and feathery?  Janie stifled a giggle. 

        “Ohhhh, yeah,” said Dawn with a smile, “I just, phew, starting to feel nice, what was I, oh yeah, I just like wanted to try.  I don't know why.  And Erin, Erin's so sweet, Erin gave me some weed, and then smoked some with me, and then we smoked some more.  And it was all so nice.  It was so good. I liked it so much.  I had been so, like, so, silly.  So silly.......yeah. I guess we've been smoking like, jeez, every day since then.  That's not a lot, is it?  Just in the mornings and...and....like....evenings and stuff. I'm so glad Erin told me....and showed me.....I love Erin so much....don't you?” 

        Janie nodded with a smile.  She had followed most of that.  Wow, Royal O was amazing! It could make a pothead out of even Dawn Mercer.  But why did Dawn want to try weed in the first place, Janie wondered.  It seemed strange, but it was too difficult to concentrate on why.  She looked down.  The joint was in her hand.  Was it her hit again?  She took another puff.  Then Dawn did. 

        “Dawn's been helping me find some new customers in return,” Erin piped in, “a lot of her sorority sisters really look up to her.  She's been introducing them to Royal O for me.” 

        “How niiice,” slurred Janie. 

        How many hits had she had? Three? Four? God, she felt so fucked up already.  And there was so much joint left on that joint.  Had Erin had any hits? Janie wasn't sure.  She glanced over at Dawn and saw that Dawn was already mostly gone, a stupid grin hanging off her face.  Her eyes were red slits and one of her hands was playing with her own nipple.  Do I look that wasted, wondered Janie.  She felt that wasted.  So yeah, she figured, she probably looked that wasted too.  But who cared? Not her.  She smiled and took another hit. 

        Of course Royal O wasn't just changing Erin and Janie and Dawn's lives.  All over campus Erin's customers were finding it irresistible.  Girls who smoked once in a blue moon were trying it out occasionally on weeknights.  Girls who considered themselves stoners were discovering a new level of potheadism.  If the deans kept track of such statistics, they might've noticed that the college's average GPA actually dipped the tiniest fraction of a point since Royal O sprang onto the scene. 

        There was Emily Kearns, a freshman biochem major.  She had been a workhorse in high school, but college was teaching her that there was more to life than late night study sessions and meticulous lab notes.  She liked smoking more than drinking, and tried to treat it the same way she had chick flicks and chocolate in high school – a reward after a period of hard work.  But it wasn't long before she would smoke while working to keep stress at bay, and then smoke to get herself in the mood to do work, and then smoke for no reason other than a desire to float in that wonderful haze. 

        There was Penelope Soledad, a haughty international student from Venezuela.  Her boyfriend Billy had discovered that she tended to only give him head when she was drunk or stoned, so when he noticed she was smoking weed more he did all he could short of saying it outright to encourage her to smoke more.  Sure, she wasn't quite the conversationalist she had been when they first started dating before he routinely came over to find her lips wrapped around a bong.  But how could late night discussions about art history compare to nearly daily blowjobs?  Whenever she asked if he thought she was smoking too much, he'd tell her she should do whatever made her feel happiest.  And if that happened to be smoking until you could barely remember your name, and then lazily licking your boyfriend's dick, then so be it. 

        Jasmine Bray had tried weed for the first time with a friend – and regular customer of Erin's – at a party.  She had swore to the friend that she hadn't liked it, but after two weeks of being unable to get that sensation out of her mind she had visited Erin on her own.  Alison Hope had been a huge stoner since 11th grade; it took Royal O to teach her how much more of one she could be.  Now she smoked when she woke up, before she went to bed, before meals, and before she went to class (on those rare occasions that she actually did).  Angela Teesdall hated how much pot her roommate smoked, how it stunk up their dorm.  But lately Angela had started to actually look forward to her roomie blazing.  She wasn't sure why, but she had recently started to find the smell rather soothing.  Maybe she'd try it after all. 

        It was like a secret club that Erin was the president of.  On her walks to class or the lab she often passed one or two of her “girls” - frequently hiding their eyes behind sunglasses or giggling under a tree or flashing her a quick wave.  But Erin wondered, with her newfound popularity, why her bed was empty almost every night.  Occasional visits by Stephanie Pendergast and stoned masturbation sessions aside, Royal O hadn't done much to help her sex life.  Surely there was some way to correct that...

I like this chapter a lot, and I hope you guys do too! 

PART ELEVEN: A CONVERSATION 

        “Wow, you've got a nice room.” 

        “Thanks.” 

        “You have it all to yourself?” 

        “Well I share the common area with my roommate Dawn, but yeah, the bedroom is all mine.” 

        “Cool.  I have to share a triple.  But I guess all first-years do.  Sorry, I'm sure you don't care.  When I get nervous I talk a lot.” 

        “There's no need to be nervous.  And yeah, I remember my triple too.  You'll have your own place soon enough. Think of it as a rite of passage.  And speaking of rites of passage...” 

        “Oh, wow, is that it?” 

        “Haha, what else would it be.  Never seen weed before?” 

        “I mean sure.  Well, I guess on TV.  And at parties.  I've just, you know, never seen it so close.” 

        “Here, you can hold the baggie if you want.  Smell it.” 

        “Are you sure?” 

        “Yeah, go ahead.” 

        “Huh, that actually smells pretty nice.  Like, I don't know, like a farm. Does that sound stupid?” 

        “No, not at all.  So, you ready?” 

        “I, uh, I guess so.  I'm sorry.  I was really excited to do all this earlier when we were just talking, you know?  Because I want college to be all open-minded and trying new things.  But now that we're here, I dunno, I'm just nervous.  Like how does it even work?” 

        “It's simple.  This is called a bong.  I'll crumble some of the weed into this part here.  And then you'll put your mouth here and the lighter here and inhale.  And smoke will slowly fill up the chamber – that's this part – and when you're ready you'll pull up the piece like this and suck it all into your lungs.  Piece of cake.” 

        “Wow, that sounds complicated.  Maybe we should do this another time.” 

        “Sure thing.  But there's really nothing to be afraid of.  It's a harmless drug, not addictive, much better for your health than drinking.  And we're already here and ready to go.” 

        “I hear most people don't even get high their first time.” 

        “Yeah, exactly.  Although this is some pretty special weed.  But you're right – you probably won't feel anything at all.  It'll just be a good story to tell your friends.  And on the off chance you do end up feeling something, and you do end up liking it, then I'd be more than willing to hook you up with some.” 

        “Oh, I wouldn't worry about that.  This is just a one time thing.” 

        “Sure.  Of course.  So come on.  Take a hit.” 

        “I...ok.....um....” 

        “Go ahead.  It's alright.” 

        “Oh, Jesus.  Sorry, I coughed everywhere.  I didn't realize it would tickle my throat so much.  Jeez, I'm sorry.” 

        “No problem – happens to everyone.  Just try again.” 

        “Um, ok.” 

        “Better that time?” 

        “Yeah, better.  It tastes funny.  Kinda sweet.” 

        “Feel anything?” 

        “No, I don't think so.  God, I feel stupid for making such a big deal out of this.” 

        “No worries.  But you're right – it's no big deal.  Almost everyone does it.  Why don't you take another hit?” 

        “You don't want any?” 

        “Maybe in a bit.  Try to inhale a little deeper this time, hold it a little longer.” 

        “Ok.” 

        “Nice hit.  You looked really sexy exhaling.” 

        “You think so? Thanks!  I guess it is kinda sexy.  I can see why people like it.  You look cool and it's all secretive with all these gadgets and toys and etiquette.  Like a secret club.” 

        “A club that you're now a member of.” 

        “Hehe, thanks.  And thanks for doing this with me.  My roommate said you had the best weed.  She doesn't even know I'm here.  I just wanted to see for myself.  I can't believe I worked up the nerve to ask you.” 

        “I'm glad you did.  This is fun.” 

        “Yeah, it is fun.  Even if I don't feel anything; I'm glad we're doing this.  I mean you've just been so nice.  You must really like sharing this experience with people if you're so willing to......willing to......” 

        “What?” 

        “What?” 

        “You were saying something.” 

        “I was?  Yeah, I was, I was saying that it's fun to, fun to......wow.  I think I can, wow.” 

        “Feeling it?” 

        “.....what?  Yeah, yeah, I think so.  Do you.....whoa, do you mind if I sit down?” 

        “Not at all.  Tell me how it feels.  I want to know.” 

        “I feel, wow, it's so hard to talk.  My brain is all, I feel all scrambled.  It's just like the room all of a sudden got kinda wavy. Like the whole world got fuzzy.  I turned my head and it.....it took a minute to catch up.  Everything is just so slow and.....underwater? Yeah, underwater.  Hehe, is this stupid? Does this sound stupid?  I'm having trouble talking.  My thoughts are just, yeah, wow.” 

        “Do you like it?” 

        “Do I like it?.....Yeah, yeah.  This...yeah, I like it.  Hehe, I'm stoned!  This is stoned, right? God, of course it is.  I feel like such a moron right now.  But that's ok, because I'm high!  Hehe!” 

        “Most people say being high feels incredibly relaxing.  You feel like you don't have a care in the world.  All your worries and obligations just drift away.  It's like being wrapped up in a big, soft, warm blanket.  And you feel stupid and out of it and silly, but it's ok.  It's all ok.  Because you just feel so happy.  Does that sound right?” 

        “Mmmm, yeah......yeah.....that sounds......that sounds right.  Wow....it just keeps getting.....getting stronger.  I feel really really good right now.  Thank you for, for, you know.” 

        “You know what would make you feel even better? Another hit.” 

        “Mmm, yeah, another hit.  That sounds....that sounds nice.” 

        “Here – let me show you a special way to take a hit.  It's called a shotgun.  You use another person's lungs to cool the smoke.” 

        “Another person?” 

        “There you go.  Your first shotgun.” 

        “Did you.....did you jusst kiss mee?” 

        “I did.  Just a little.  Why? Did you like it?” 

        “I jusss....I.....yeah.....maybe I shouldn't.....shouldn't......” 

        “You did like it.  I can tell.” 

        “You can....telll.” 

        “Do you want to see what you look like right now?” 

        “Whaat? Umm...yeah...surrre.” 

        “Here's a mirror.” 

        “Oh my god!  Look at myy, myy eyes! They're soooo reeed!  Hehe, I look so hiiigh!” 

        “Don't worry.  I think it's pretty sexy.” 

        “You doo?” 

        “Yeah.  Look at you all wreathed in smoke.  You look like you feel sexy.  Do you feel sexy?” 

        “Yeaaah, I guess I dooo.” 

        “I bet you'd look even sexier naked.  Holding a smoking joint.  You know, like in an old French poster.” 

        “Whoa, whaat, whaat are you dooing?  I'm...I'm noot surre....” 

        “But doesn't that feel good?  That's one of the best parts of being high.  Skin touching skin.” 

        “Mmmm, it isss niiice, but....but....I dunno....” 

        “You know what you need? Another hit.” 

        “Yeeah!” 

        “There you go.  That's a good hit.  Now take another.” 

        “Buuuut.....I.....” 

        “Don't think about it.  Just do it.  You know you want to feel that smoke in your lungs.  How good it makes you feel.  How sexy.  There you go.  What a lovely hit.  You exhaled it so sexily.  You'd make quite the pothead.” 

        “....Hehehe.....” 

        “Why don't you get up and come over here so I can take a look at you?  Oh, wow, you can barely walk.  Jesus you're wasted.  No no, it's alright.  I like it. You're probably just tripping from those shoes.  Let me help you out of them.” 

        “oooo.....ok.......yeah.......hehe.....I feeell goooood.” 

        “Of course you do.  This clothing is so tight.  Wouldn't you feel better with it off?  Shhh, don't worry.  I'll take care of you.” 

        “I.....mmmmm, that feeels....mmmmmm......waait, maybe, maybe....” 

        “I'll make you a deal.  I'll put my finger as gently as I can on your clit, just like that.  And then I'll move it so slowly, just like this.  And if you don't like it, we can stop.  Do you want me to stop?” 

        “Oooh, oooooooooh, oooooooooooooh.” 

        “I didn't think so.  That's it, just lie back on my bed.  Feel how soft it is.  Feel how soft and warm I am.  Just give yourself up to the smoke.  Let it fill you.  Let it take you away.  What could be better than this?  Just smoking and feeling pleasure.” 

        “Mmmmmmm, oooooooh.” 

        “But it's not fair to get so much pleasure and not give any.  Right?  Of course I'm right.  It makes all the sense in the world.” 

        “Oooooh, oookkk, yeeeaaaahhh.” 

        “But first lets give you another puff.  Would you like that?  Perfect.  You're getting so good at it.   So good.  Is there anybody home?  No, didn't think so.  You have no idea how sexy you are, just lost in your own world of pleasure and weed.  Have you ever eaten a girl out before?  Probably not.  First time for everything.” 

        *** 

        “Well, I hope you had fun.” 

        “Jesus, my head, it feels like it's full of cotton balls.  Is that the time?  Holy shit!  How long were we in there?  Wow, that was, that was...” 

        “Great? Fantastic?” 

        “I was going to say crazy.  I've never done anything like that before.  I'm not that type of girl, really.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.  I just, you know, they say college is about experimentation, but still, jeez.” 

        “You know you had fun.” 

        “I....yeah, I did have fun. Thanks.” 

        “I'm just glad I could share the experience of your first time getting high.  Here, take this.” 

        “What is this?  This is a joint, right?  That's ok, I don't think I need one.” 

        “No, I insist.  It's a gift.  Keep it.  So if you ever decide you want to try getting high again, you'll have it handy.  And if you want more after that, just come visit me.” 

        “Sure, but I think one time is enough.” 

        “Whatever you say.”

PART TWELVE: THREATENED 

        Erin would have never guessed it'd be so simple.  But god was it.  Simply put, she could have anyone she wanted.  Well, almost anyone.  All those wasted weeks of pining over her sexual dry spell when she had been dealing the very drug that could bring the rain!  Royal O's incredible strength mixed with its unparalleled tendency to lower inhibitions and increase suggestibility meant that virtually all of Erin's customers were potential hookups.  She'd call them up or wait for them to come over for a sale or sometimes just walk right up to them on the quad.  A shared joint or bowl back at her place, a few compliments and innocent caresses, and even the straightest sorority sister was lapping her pussy. 

        It was so easy that Erin decided to focus mostly on new customers – weed virgins were much more entertaining.  The challenge was getting them to take that first toke.  She'd convince or cajole or sympathize or even lie.  Sometimes she'd recruit Dawn with her sorority influence or Stephanie Pendergast with her perpetual enthusiasm to help out.  “Just try one puff,” they'd say, “What could one bong hit hurt?” or “Everyone's doing it – why doing you just try a little?”  Because all it took was one toke of that super weed soaking into their lungs, their blood, their brains to make them woozy and blissful and vulnerable.  After that it was so much easier to convince them to take a second, and a third. 

        Take this girl for example.  As Erin buttoned up her shirt she looked back at the prone form sprawled naked in her bed.  Clarissa? Clara? Something like that.  Twelve hours ago she'd never smoked pot in her life, and - based on the quality of her pussy licking - never done that either.  Now look at her.  As if she could hear Erin's thoughts the girl began to squirm, slowly rousing. 

        “Whaaat, whaa?” she asked, trying to form a sentence. 

        She groggily lifted her head and looked at Erin.  Erin could see her eyes were still deeply bloodshot – she was probably still stoned.  But Erin wasn't in the mood for conversation with a half-baked freshman.  Erin took a fat joint from her dresser, sparked it, and held it under the girl's nose. 

        “Morning sleepyhead,” she said, “smoke up.” 

        The girl looked down at the joint in confusion.  The trickle of smoke reached her nose.  It was so sweet, so inviting.  Without protest the girl opened her lips and Erin tucked the joint between them. 

        “Just drift away again and maybe in a bit we can have some more fun,” said Erin. 

        The girl nodded dopily, exhaling a thick plume of smoke and letting the clouds drift back over her eyes.  Erin finished dressing and went out into the common room.  She started to pour herself a bowl of cereal when she heard a knock at the door.  She opened it to reveal Janie. 

        “Hey,” said Erin, “what's up?” 

        Janie looked at Erin nervously for a moment and then said, “Can we sit down?” 

        “Um, sure,” said Erin. 

        Erin ushered Janie in and they sat down beside each other on the couch. 

        “What's wrong?” asked Erin, trying to read Janie's worried expression. 

        “I, well, it's just, I've been thinking about this a while and, and like you're my best friend and all, but...I think what you're doing is wrong.” 

        “Wrong?” asked Erin. 

        “Not all of it,” said Janie hesitantly, “just, I don't know, you've been doing stuff lately that isn't the Erin I know.” 

        Erin felt anger boil up inside her - “Wrong? For the first time since being at this shitty place I'm well-known, I'm happy, I'm powerful.  I'm getting sex and money and anything I want.  I'm on top of the world.  And it's wrong?  I think maybe you're just jealous.” 

        “No, that's not it at all,” stammered Janie, “I don't mind the dealing and the money and stuff.  It's just...listen to what you're saying.  You're powerful? Is that what you wanted?  To corrupt all these girls? To make them into stoners?” 

        “Look who's talking – I can smell weed on your breath.” 

        Janie blushed.  She had taken a hit before coming over, but just for confidence.  Not enough to get baked.  She wanted this to be over so she could go back to her room and finish the bowl.  But no!  She had to do this! 

        “That's not the point,” said Janie, “I know what you've been doing.  To freshman girls, to anyone you can find.  You're smoking them up on your super weed and then fucking them.  That's awful, Erin!  That stuff is too powerful – you're basically drugging and molesting them.” 

        “They don't seem to mind,” said Erin. 

        “Of course they don't – they're too happily stoned!  It's like a different girl every night.  Did you do it last night?  Is there a girl in your room right now?” 

        Erin glanced toward her door and then looked down at the ground in embarrassment. 

        “  And I hear you've got Dawn making smoking Royal O a part of sorority initiation,” Janie continued, “You know how desperately those girls look up to Dawn – they'll do whatever she tells them to.” 

        “So what are you going to do, report me?  Rat me out as the campus drug dealer?  You'd do that to your own best friend?” 

        “I don't want to,” said Janie, “I really don't.  But I'm worried.  About what you've become, what you're doing.” 

        Janie leaned in close.  She had one last thing to say and she wanted it to count. 

        “How did Dawn first get stoned on Royal O?” she asked, “How did it happen?  I've heard your side of the story and, honestly, I don't believe you.  What did you do to her?” 

        Erin stood up and walked to the front door.  She opened it and looked at Janie. 

        “Get out,” she said. 

        “I'm your best friend,” pleaded Janie, “I'm only telling you what I think you need to hear.” 

        “I said get out!” 

        Janie reluctantly rose from the couch and padded out the door.  She turned back to say something but Erin slammed the door in her face.  Erin paced around the room, furious.  How dare Janie say that?  Erin wasn't out of control – she was more in control than she had ever been.  She was in control of the whole school if she wanted it.  Nobody could threaten that. 

        Well, she realized, somebody could.  Janie.  Janie could rat her out.  Janie knew about the lab.  Janie knew about the girls.  Janie might even somehow know about Dawn.  And Janie had made it very clear that if Erin didn't do what she said and throttle down her operation – which was foolish – then Janie could make some big trouble.  Janie wasn't a friend anymore.  She was a liability. 

        But what to do about Janie?  Erin didn't want to hurt her!  Could she get her transferred? Get her expelled?  God, who knew.  But it couldn't be that hard to outsmart a girl who was probably on her way back to her dorm room this minute to smoke a bowl and let the day float by.  That bitchy, jealous, holier-than-thou pothead!  An idea slowly formed in Erin's mind.  She mulled it over.  Would it work?  Maybe.  Maybe maybe maybe.  At least it was worth a shot.  Erin smiled. 

        She walked back into her bedroom and was hit with a wave of pot smoke.  She took a deep breath, savoring the sweet aroma.  She felt more calm and relaxed already.  The girl – what was her name again – that she had left naked and in bed was still naked and in bed.  She was on her stomach, staring up at the ceiling in a blissful haze.  The burned out roach hung from her fingertips.   

        Erin pulled off her pants, climbed on the bed, and straddled the girl.  She looked down into her eyes, glazed over and lidded.  She was coming to love that look.  She took the girl's head in her hands and lifted it up so that her mouth was flush with Erin's bush. 

        “Lick,” said Erin, realizing that the girl was too stoned to understand what was going on. 

        Erin shuddered as she felt the girl's tongue start to lazily caress her clit.  Tomorrow she'd deal with Janie - she had a pretty good idea how.  But right now she just wanted to come.  After that maybe a few puffs herself?  Yeah, that'd be nice.  Maybe invite another friend or two to come join them.  The day - and the world - were her oyster.

PART THIRTEEN: EASY PREY 

        Janie hesitantly opened the door for Erin.  Erin entered sheepishly, flashing Janie a small smile.     Janie's place was one of the more spacious singles on campus, with a separate bedroom and living room.  The two girls sat on the couch for a moment without speaking. 

        “I'm sorry,” said Janie, breaking the silence, “I think I might've gone too far yesterday.” 

        “No no,” said Erin, “I'm sorry.  You were right.  I've gotten a little...carried away in the last few months.  I was just a nobody for so long, it felt good to be somebody.” 

        “So you're really going to do it?  You're going to back down on your operation?” 

        “If my best friend says I should, then I will.  No more freshmen, no more stoned sex, no more new customers.  I don't want to do anything wrong.  I don't want to hurt anyone.” 

        “Oh my god, I'm so glad you understand.  I was worried you weren't going to and then, I dunno, I really don't know what I would've done.” 

        “Would you have reported me?” asked Erin. 

        “I honestly don't know,” said Janie, and then to change the subject, “what's in the bookbag?” 

        Erin smiled and opened it. She removed a glass bong, a Gilmore Girls DVD, and a saran-wrapped plate of rice krispy treats. 

        “Truce?” said Erin, lifting the plate and bong, “I thought maybe we could hang out, smoke and veg, you know.” 

        “That sounds awesome,” said Janie, so glad that her friend was seeing things her way, “where did you get the food though?” 

        “Dawn made them for some class.  I stole them!” 

        Erin burst into giggles and Janie followed suit.  Erin offered the bong to Janie and without hesitation Janie took a massive hit.  She let the smoke roll around in her lungs and then exhaled toward the ceiling.  She passed it to Erin and Erin took her own hit, although smaller.  Janie peeled back a corner of the Saran wrap and took a rice krispy treat. 

        “Do you want one?” she asked Erin. 

        “Maybe later,” said Erin, “I had a few before coming over.” 

        Janie nodded.  She chowed down on her own – it was delicious!  Then she took back the bong and had a second hit.  Already she could feel the Royal O soaking into her system.  Weird how you couldn't seem to build up a tolerance to the super weed.  She had been smoking nearly every day for weeks, and yet two hits still got her feeling pretty stoney.  She passed it to Erin and didn't notice when Erin barely hit it. 

        Erin put in a DVD and started an episode.  Out of the corner of her eye she watched Janie finish her rice krispy treat.  Erin surreptitiously rewrapped the plate and slid it back into her bag.  Janie, nicely baked and staring at the TV, didn't seem to mind.  The next hour passed without incident – just two girls, one stoned and one very buzzed, giggling and smiling to an episode of their favorite show.  When the credits rolled Janie turned to Erin. 

        “What shoould we doo now?” she asked with a slight slur, “A few moore hits?  And where diiid those treeats go?” 

        “You probably shouldn't have more than one at a time,” said Erin. 

        “Why not?  I thought they were.....they.....whoa.....I thought....hehe.....” 

        Janie blinked rapidly.  She trailed off mid-sentence, a look of confusion on her face like she had no idea what she had wanted to say.  Erin glanced at the clock – perfect timing.  It was almost exactly an hour since Janie had eaten the rice krispy treat. 

        “Feeling good?” asked Erin, rising to her feet. 

        “What'ss....whaaat's.....hehe......” said Janie, putting her hand to her forehead. 

        “Let me explain,” said Erin, a smile on her face, “have you ever had any edibles?  I'm sure you have – pot brownies or cookies or whatever.  You know what my favorite part of edibles is?  How they creep up on you.  You eat them, forget about them, and then BAM they hit you like a ton of bricks.  I don't know about you, but pot brownies always knock me on my ass.  They're just so strong, right?” 

        Janie gave no response, but Erin didn't seem to care. 

        “Last night I realized I've never even tried making edibles with Royal O.  The weed is so incredibly strong to begin with that the thought never crossed my mind.  I mean, if one joint of Royal O puts you on your ass, and one edible of regular weed can do the same, then imagine the combination of the two.  It would just shut you down, lights out, good night brain.  I'm sure one brownie or cookie or maybe even one rice krispy treat, and you'd be down for the count.  Does that make sense to you?” 

        But Janie didn't hear the question.  In fact, she hadn't heard anything Erin had said.  That's because she was a million miles away.  Her brain was nothing but a giant cloud of cotton candy.  Her body was flopped back in the couch, her arms limp at her side.  Her eyes were completely empty, glassy, so bloodshot they looked totally pink.  A thin line of saliva dripped down from her slightly smiling mouth.  She had never been so stoned – too high to function, too high to move, too high to think. 

        “I can't believe you would even consider turning me in,” Erin continued, “I thought I was your best friend.  But would a real best friend ask me to give up what I've worked so hard to achieve?  No, I'm sorry Janie.  But this is how it has to be.”   

        Erin leaned in close and said, “I can hardly imagine how good you feel right now, to be that gone.  It must be wonderful.  Would you like to see how long you can stay that way?  I would.” 

        Erin made a quick call on her phone.  In a few minutes there was a knock at the door.  Erin opened it and ushered in Stephanie Pendergast. 

        “Wow” said Stephanie, eying Janie on the couch, “that girl is blazed.  Can I smoke too?” 

        “Soon,” said Erin, “but I need you to do me a favor.  A big favor.  But in return you can have all the weed you want for free forever.” 

        “All the weed I want?” asked Stephanie, her eyes wide, “I'll do whatever you want!” 

        “Simple,” said Erin, “My friend Janie here loves to get high.  And you love to get high.  So I want you to make sure that for the next...lets say two or three days, you make sure that the two of you are always high.  Always.” 

        Erin reached into her backpack and pulled out the final item – a giant Ziploc bag of Royal O.  Stephanie practically gagged at the sight.  Erin handed it to Stephanie and she clutched it like a sack of hundred dollar bills. 

        “Janie is very, very high right now, but when she starts to come around I want you to smoke with her.  And then I want you to give her one of these rice krispy treats.  Under no conditions do you eat one yourself!  But you can smoke all you want.  Just make sure that no matter how much you smoke, Janie smokes more.  And any time she starts to sober up, have her eat another treat.” 

        Stephanie nodded.  In her brain, addled from weeks of daily smoke sessions, it seemed to make a kind of sense.  She wasn't sure why Erin wanted her to do this, but Erin always knew best.  Plus she didn't need to be told twice to smoke. 

        “I've already emailed both of your professors,” Erin continued, “and told them you'll both be out sick for the next few days.” 

        Stephanie hadn't even thought about class!  Erin sure was smart. 

        “I'll check in on you guys as often as I can.  You got it?” 

        “Yeah,” said Stephanie, a big grin on her face, “I got it.” 

        “Tell it to me again.” 

        Stephanie giggled and said, “It's simple!  Smoke with Janie.  Give her rice krispy treats sometimes.  Stay stoned all day.” 

        “Perfect,” said Erin, “and feel free to order out any food you want or watch whatever you want.  We need to work together to remind Janie how much fun it is to smoke.  In fact, why don't you tell her that all the time – how much she loves to smoke.  Just like you do.” 

        Stephanie nodded.  Erin, satisfied, handed Stephanie the bong.  Stephanie took a hit, loving the way the smoke tasted.  It had been, like, five whole hours since she had last smoked and she was feeling unpleasantly sober. 

        Erin walked toward the door but stopped, instead doubling back to Janie.  Erin brought herself close to Janie's face.  Janie didn't even seem to see her – she was totally gone.   

        “I'm sorry about this,” Erin whispered, “but you'll thank me later.  I know you probably won't be as smart or as funny or as together as you were before, but think how happy you're about to be.  And we'll still get to be best friends.  Now I've got to go, but you have fun becoming the world's biggest pothead.” 

        And with that Erin turned and walked out the door.

PART FOURTEEN: A NEW WOMAN 

        For the next three days all Janie knew was smoke.  Warm, soft, lulling, wonderful smoke.  It was there when she woke up and there when she drifted off to sleep.  It thickened the air of Janie's small apartment and never seemed to dissipate.  Janie had always loved Royal O, and now it was being pumped into her unceasingly.  Simply put, she never stood a chance. 

        As she swam up out of her edible-induced stupor, hours after Erin had left, she was greeted by Stephanie lifting a bong to her lips.  Janie was too woozy, too relaxed to do anything but inhale.  Later she vaguely remembered being fed another rice krispy treat and her mind spiraling back down into a haze of pleasurable confusion.  And it went on like that for hours and hours – smoking and smoking, vague memories of eating and watching TV and stumbling to the bathroom, then more smoking, and the occasional edible shutting down her brain completely.   

        Stephanie, Erin's obedient stoner, happily did just as she had been told.  She always kept a bowl packed or a joint rolled, and shared them with Janie at every opportunity.  She too spent the days totally wasted, but she made sure to always keep Janie more wasted than herself. 

        For the first day or so a small part of Janie's brain told her that something was wrong.  She had wanted to do something or say something, something about Erin, but it was too much effort to put her finger on it.  Janie thought all she needed were a few hours of sobriety to figure things out, or maybe just a few minutes without being so stoned. But no such respite came.  And after awhile she forgot why she had wanted to be sober in the first place. 

        In fact she forgot why she had wanted to do anything but smoke, think anything but how nice it felt to be stoned.  With each bong hit or joint puff or hour lost to another edible the Royal O whispered in her ear.  “All you care about is me,” it said, “Why let yourself get so caught up in worries and responsibilities? Why do you care about Erin or school, about what you might have thought was right or wrong?  Just smoke and let it all go.”  And after hours of listening to that voice, that's exactly what she did. 

        *** 

        Janie pulled her mouth off a dick to take a long drag off the joint in her left hand.  Normally she was a rightie, but her right hand was currently busy jacking off a second dick.  She couldn't quite remember who the dicks belonged to, and it seemed so much effort to raise her head and figure it out, but somehow she managed to summon the energy and glance up.  Of course, she thought, now I remember: they belonged to the two nice frat boys she had met at the Kappa Tau party.  Why were they nice?  She racked her brain, and slowly something floated to the surface.  Because they had said she was pretty, or something like that.  No, there was more.  What was it?  Oh yeah, they had offered her a tour of their place.  Was that where she was?  She considered looking around the room to confirm, but instead decided to just sink her mouth back around the dick.  Because there was nothing in the world that she wanted to do more at that moment.  Well, except maybe take another hit off the joint. 

        The second dick slipped out of her hand and moved behind her.  She knew what was coming and raised her hips.  As it slid into her pussy she moaned deeply, waves of pleasure rippling up and down her body.  It felt unbelievable.  It was like her stoned brain had cleared all the other thoughts out of her head, so that the sensations of pure bliss could reverberate inside it uninterrupted.  These boys probably think I'm a slut, she thought, I've only known them an hour and already I'm letting them both fuck me.  But who cares?  If it feels good, then do it.  That was her new motto. 

        Janie knew she should feel bad.  She had gone out partying the last four nights in a row, and the two nights before that she had stayed in only to get baked off her ass.  On top of that, Janie had gone home with a different guy three of the last four nights.  She had always been a little easy, but lately she felt like giving it up to whoever wanted it.  But still, Janie couldn't summon the least shred of shame or guilt.  Not about the boys, not about the partying, not about the classes she hadn't attended for almost a week straight.  How could she feel bad when she always felt so good? 

        The first boy came in her mouth, thrusting his hips forward while crying out.  She swallowed it down eagerly, still keeping rhythm with the other boy thrusting into her from behind.  She slipped her free hand between her legs and began to flick her own clit.  Her pleasure, which she had thought couldn't get any more intense, nearly doubled.  Her eyes rolled back in her head.  She somehow managed to take another hit off the joint.  It wasn't Royal O – too bad the frat boys only had regular weed – but it was enough to keep the lovely stupor from her pre-party bong hits going strong. 

        Janie wasn't sure when this new laidback mentality had taken over.  Probably after that whole weekend she had spent cooped up in her apartment with Stephanie blazing non-stop.  She couldn't quite remember why she and Stephanie had done that – she'd never even been that great friends with Stephanie.  She had tried to figure it out a few times, but her memories of those days, and the days before and after it, were very hazy.  She had asked Erin, and Erin had said not to worry about it.  And so she hadn't. 

        The second boy began to thrust harder and Janie felt him growing close to orgasm.  She increased the pressure on her clit and felt herself grow close as well.  “Fuuuuuuck!” he screamed.  “Fuuuuuck!” she screamed back.  He came hard.  In Janie's baked state it felt like a jackhammer, and his orgasm launched her into her own.  For a moment there was no sight, no sound, just pure blinding white ecstasy.  Janie could feel every inch of her body, and every inch of it felt wonderful. 

        Janie wasn't even sure if she had been she had been smoking as much Royal O before that fateful weekend as she was now.  She knew she had been toking up pretty regularly for months, but lately she didn't like to go very long at all without the sweet smell of Royal O keeping her all floaty and blissful.  Oh well, who cared?  Not her!  What was wrong with a nice wake n bake very morning, and a few puffs before eating to boost her appetite, and maybe a weed nap in the afternoon, and some stoned tv watching in the evening, and a half bowl to help her sleep?  And what night on the town would be complete without a good old fashioned smoke session?  No, this was the life. 

        The second boy pulled out of Janie and she collapsed onto the futon.  The two boys stared down at her and she smiled back up at them with lidded, bloodshot eyes.  “That was incredible,” said one.  “Youuu'reee welcumm,” slurred Janie.  “Jesus she's fucked up,” said the other.  Janie reached for the boys table and clumsily picked up another one of their joints.  “Mmiiind iff I...?” she asked.  “Go ahead,” said the first boy, “smoke your brains out, you cute little stoner.”  She giggled and sparked the joint. 

        Janie was so glad that Erin had told her she could always have as much free weed as she wanted.  Because all weed was nice, but only Erin had that magic Royal O that Janie craved.  Erin was such a sweetie, thought Janie.  She was so lucky to have Erin for a best friend.  She'd do anything for Erin. Anything at all.

PART FIFTEEN: THE QUEEN 

        “Take five hits as fast as you can,” said Erin. 

        Erin extended the bong toward Kelly Penderis, one of her newest customers.  Kelly took it hesitantly.  She had just come here to buy an eighth; she hadn't planned on getting stoned right here and now.  But some other girl – Kelly wasn't sure of her name, was it Dawn? - had greeted her at the door with a puff off a joint before ushering her into the room, and so Kelly was already feeling nicely buzzed. 

        Which was probably for the best, thought Kelly, because if not feeling a little relaxed she might have freaked when she saw the naked women sprawled out on the couch beside Erin.  The woman looked to be in her late 30s, with long curly hair and big breasts.  She also looked totally gone – eyes vacant, dumb smile on her lips, arms limp at her side.  She didn't seem to be following a word of their conversation, but rather floating in her own private world.  If Kelly were an English major she might have recognized Professor Jocelyn Smoot, a new member of the faculty who liked the occasional discreet toke.  She was one of Erin's proudest conquests, and whenever Professor Smoot came by to purchase more Erin liked to get her wasted just because she could and parade her in front of other customers. 

        “I can pay for it,” said Kelly. 

        “But if you do what I say I'll give you the eighth for free,” replied Erin. 

        “But five hits of Royal O...won't I end up like her?” asked Kelly, gesturing toward the stoned professor. 

        “Maybe,” said Erin, handing her a lighter, “but don't you kind of want to?” 

        Kelly looked at the crumbled nug in the bong's bowl, dense with lovely white and purple crystals.  She did kind of want to.  It sounded like a fun challenge.  And she didn't have class for the rest of the day anyway.  Not to mention it seemed like a good idea to stay friendly with her dealer.  Kelly shrugged and raised the bong to her lips. 

        “Remember,” said Erin, “fast as you can.” 

        Kelly took her first hit, watching the fresh weed burn and the chamber thicken with white smoke.  She removed the carb and sucked it into her lungs, savoring the warm, decadent taste and sweet, acrid aroma.  She held the hit in and stared at Erin, who smiled back at her.  Then she exhaled in a thick stream toward Erin.  Immediately she lifted the bong back to her lips and took a second hit just as large as the last.  It teased her throat a little, but tasted no less delicious. 

        Even before she exhaled, Kelly could feel the super potent weed starting to take effect.  A tingling, like a pleasant pins and needles, went racing through her body.  The buzz she had already began to grow, spreading up into her brain and down into her pussy.  Her hands, her eyelids, her lips started to feel heavy.  A dreamy soft focus had come over everything in the room.  She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the sensation, as the roaring traffic of her thoughts slowed to a pleasant crawl.  Her left hand felt heavier than her right.  She opened her eyes and saw the bong.  Why was she holding.....to smoke!  She had three more hits to go. 

        Kelly brought the bong to her lips and took her third hit.  This was even larger than her last two, as she grew briefly hypnotized by the burning embers and kept drawing more smoke into the chamber.  In fact, everything in the room seemed hypnotic.  She felt like she could stare for hours at the weed smoke dissipating in the air or at Professor Smoot's glazed eyes.  And she felt so heavy.  Kelly wanted to lie down, she wanted to curl up and rest while the smoke rolled around her brain.  She felt too stupid to talk, too stupid to do anything but float.  God, she loved being this stoned.  This was why she had come here, to get this weed that could make a girl feel this good this fast. 

        Erin stared at Kelly, who was swaying slightly in place, and felt herself grow wet.  She licked one of her fingers and, without looking away from Kelly, reached over and pushed it into the professor's pussy.  The professor moaned lightly, so lost that she didn't know why she suddenly felt this pang of pleasure but enjoying it too much to care.  Erin realized Kelly needed a little help or she wouldn't finish. 

        “Take another hit,” she said. 

        Kelly's bloodshot eyes came back into focus and connected with Erin's - “Whaa, whaat?” she replied. 

        “You still have two hits left.” 

        “Dasss, dasss riiight,” said Kelly. 

        Kelly brought the bong back to her mouth, so sluggishly this time, her fingers all thick and unresponsive, and after a few attempts managed to light the bowl.  She drew in her fourth hit and it went straight to her brain, like a wet blanket smothering her thoughts and worries and cares.  The whole room was tunneling in the most lovely way.  She felt nothing but happiness.  No, happiness was too active a word.  Contentment.  She loved Erin and her magic weed.  She loved that naked women she didn't know and that girl who had greeted her at the door.  She loved the slow curl of smoke snaking out the bong.  It didn't seem strange at all that Erin had wanted her to smoke so much so fast.  Erin was her friend.  Erin just wanted her to feel this good. 

        Erin saw that Kelly was done for.  But Erin wasn't done with her.  After all, she had promised five hits, and they were only at four.  Erin rose from the couch and stepped close to Kelly.  She took the bong from Kelly's hand – Kelly's fingers slipped right off it – and she pressed it to Kelly's lips. 

        “Inhale,” she whispered in Kelly's ear and, taking the lighter, lit the bowl for her. 

        Some small part of Kelly's brain registered the request and Kelly began to suck. Erin watched the chamber fill with smoke.  It thickened and thickened and still Erin didn't pull out the carb.  Finally, when Erin was satisfied that the hit was huge, Erin lifted the carb and all that smoke sucked straight up into Kelly's body.  Erin lowered the bong and placed her hand gently over Kelly's mouth, holding the smoke in. 

        “Hold it,” she said, “hold it hold it hold it hold it.” 

        She could see Kelly's eyes flutter a little anxiously as she wanted to exhale, but the pot in her lungs quickly robbed her of even that energy.  After a moment Erin took her hand away, but Kelly was too gone to even notice.  She exhaled slowly, the smoke trickling up over her face.  Erin stared at Kelly, at her glassy red eyes, her slightly parted lips. 

        “That's a good girl,” said Erin. 

        Then Erin put down the bong and slowly, delicately undressed Kelly.  He pulled off her top, her bra, unzipped her skirt, and pulled down her panties.  Kelly didn't resist at all.  Then Erin led Kelly to the couch and sat her down beside Professor Smoot.  Erin began to kiss the two of them, first on the lips, then the tits, then their pussies.  She ran her hands over their bodies and the baked ladies moaned, grinding their bodies in place.  After a moment Erin moved back and the girls, lost in pleasure, kept kissing and touching one another. 

        Erin sat back in the couch.  She slipped her hand down her pants and began to finger herself as she watched the two deeply stoned girls get it on.  Their movements were so sluggish and so clumsy that it was like they were fucking underwater.  Their lips sloppily smacked against each others; their hands fumbled with each others clits.  They didn't say anything other than moan – Erin wasn't entirely sure if they knew what was going on.  For all they knew it could be a beautiful dream. 

        Erin wasn't postive when it had happened, but it felt like this was all that turned her on anymore.  The normal lesbian porn she used to masturbate to did nothing for her now.  Even hookups with sober customers didn't give her much pleasure.  No, nothing was as sexy to her as getting another girl totally wasted.  She wasn't sure if it was the control or the helplessness of the other girl or maybe just the way they looked when baked out of their mind.   

        Whatever it was, Erin now got off almost exclusively through concocting moments like these.  Smoking up an easily pressured freshman or corrupting a teacher or just pumping Dawn or Stephanie or Janie full of smoke, and then either fucking them or watching them fuck.  It was heaven.  And Erin knew as long as she kept the Royal O flowing, she could have as much of it as she wanted. 

        Erin stopped touching herself for a moment to reposition the girls.  She pressed Kelly down into Professor Smoot's crotch and did the same to the professor.  Neither put up the slightest bit of resistance to Erin's pushing and prodding, and once they were in a 69 they dopily resumed eating each other out.  This was nice, thought Erin, but it'd be even nicer if she had a nice buzz going.  Yeah, the more she thought about it the better that idea seemed. 

        Erin took a joint from the table and looked at it.  She knew it was probably a mistake to get blazed right now, but she was the queen of this school – she could do whatever she wanted.  As long as she kept from doing it too frequently, there was nothing wrong with occasionally sampling her own wares.  Plus, she knew it would bring this moment to a whole new high.  Erin sparked the joint. 

        “Do you girls mind if I partake?” she asked with a smile. 

        The girls were too gone, and too wrapped up in their pleasure, to hear here.  Erin sat back into the couch and took a slow, slow toke.  Her other hand dipped back into her pants to make gentle circles on her clit.  And that's how the afternoon passed.  A student and a professor, naked, 69ing each other in clumsy, half-silent ecstasy, and Erin watching, taking puffs of a joint, and slowly bringing herself to orgasm. 

PART SIXTEEN: INTERROGATION 

        Carlos considered himself a pretty lucky guy.  At just 28 not only had he had fought his way out of the ghetto, he also now controlled a small sliver of his hometown's drug market.  Hardworking and smart, sure.  But especially lucky.  Take now for example – he could've brought any wasted bimbo back to his place from that college party.  After all, not many drunk or stoned girls turned down his winning combination of a warm smile and a whole assortment of novel drugs.  But no, the stoner he'd managed to take home just happened to be the best friend of his AWOL campus dealer Erin. 

        Obviously he hadn't known that at first.  She had just been Janie the Easy Target.  But once he got the clothes off and the nitrous flowing (his new favorite toy – he used it to keep a girl floating in a euphoric haze just shy of unconsciousness), and Janie started talking about her best friend Erin and her magic weed, the hookup turned into more of an interrogation.  Of course, Janie, high on weed and nitrous, didn't realize.  She just though Carlos was being playful and curious. 

        “I just thought Erin stopped dealing and didn't tell me,” said Carlos, half to himself. 

        “Nope!” said Janie with a giggle, “she deeals ssooooo much nooow!  She deealls to everyyone! Everyone waaants her Royal O.” 

        “And Royal O is just, what, a really good strain?” 

        “Izzz the beest weed evvver!” exclaimed Janie, “izzz like, like, ten or tweeenty tiimes stroonger than normall weeed.  Juz two puffs an wheeeee.....it juz maakes you waannna smooke it allll the tiime.” 

        What the fuck, wondered Carlos.  Was this girl telling the truth?  He looked down at her, naked and sexy on his bed, a clear plastic gas mask strapped to her lips giving her a steady, relaxing stream of nitrous.  Her eyes were glassy, her mouth hanging open.  She was wasted, yes, but she didn't seem to be a liar. Carlos ran a finger up her thigh and she shuddered. 

        “So you're saying Erin has some magic, super potent weed?” 

        “Yeeeep,” giggled Janie, “shee maakes anny giirl she waants into a tootal stooner.  Even tteeachers!  An den shee fuucks 'em!” 

        Carlos tried to take this with a  grain of salt, but damn he was excited.  In his last few forays onto campus for various parties he had noticed some very stoned students, including girls he wouldn't have thought of as the type.  He had just chalked it up to happenstance, but what if there was more to it than that? 

        “Where does she get this Royal O from?” he asked. 

        “Naaah,” sighed Janie, “I caaan't, I prommised, I caaan't tellll.” 

        “But I'm Erin's friend,” said Carlos, “and I need to help her.  I can't help her if you don't tell me.” 

        “Uhhhhh, noooo, I caan't,” said Janie. 

        Time for a little more nitrous, thought Carlos.  He turned the nozzle on the tank up, flooding Janie's lungs with the sweet gas.  Her eyes widened for a moment and then started to dull.  He watched them go cross-eyed and begin to flutter.  She sighed happily.  With each flutter her eyes opened less.  She slipped closer and closer to the peasant haze of sleep that was beckoning her.  Carlos watched carefully, making sure not to let her go completely under.  When he saw that she was right on the brink he turned the nozzle back down, reducing the nitrous flow.  Slowly Janie's eyes reopened, only now they were more clouded than before. 

        “Whasss, whass goin onnn?” she asked. 

        “You were telling me where Erin gets her Royal O,” said Carlos. 

        “Nooooooo,” said Janie, but her voice was full of confusion. 

        “Yes you were,” said Carlos, “because once you tell me I can make you feel good.  You want to feel good, don't you?” 

        He ran his fingers across her crotch, barely brushing her clit.  Janie writhed on the bed, letting out a small moan. 

        “Buuuut, buttt,” she slurred. 

        “But I can't make you feel good until you tell me.” 

        “Goooood,” parroted Janie. 

        Carlos let one hand circle her breast while with the other he slid two fingers into her moist pussy.  Janie cried own, arching her back and trembling lightly. 

        “Just tell me,” he said, “and then I'll make you feel so good. Because I'm your friend too.  I'm Erin's friend and Janie's friend.  And friends help each other.  Right?” 

        As Carlos ended his sentence he turned up the gas the slightest bit, letting it leak into Janie's lungs.  He could sense she was so doped up, so happy and confused, that she was barely keeping it in.  All she needed was this last bit of lulling, drowsy gas and she'd open up like a locket. 

        “Riiigh?” said Janie, more a question than a response. 

        “Right?” he said with another tiny increase of gas. 

        “..........yeeeeeahh.” 

        “So where does she get the Royal O?” 

        “Shheee grooows it.  In Druc.......tha baasement....Proofeessor Frraankle doesn't, doooesn't, doesn't know.” 

        “Thank you, Janie” said Carlos with a smile, “You're such a good girl.  Now would you like more of this gas that makes you feel so happy?” 

        “Mmmhmmm,” said Janie. 

        “And maybe later I'll get to share it with Erin too?” 

        “Mmmhmmm,” said Janie. 

        Carlos began gently thrusting his two fingers in and out of Janie's pussy as he slowly turned up the gas.  Janie moaned and shivered and gasped.  Her moans got louder and louder and louder and then, as the gas started to take over, softer and softer and softer.  Janie felt beautifully sleepy in a way she'd never imagined.  Her vision tunneled more and more, until she was wrapped up in a warm, soft darkness.  Through the haze she barely felt someone heavy climb on top of her and something thick and hard slide between her legs.

PART SEVENTEEN: PLANS 

        Professor Frankle heard the noise again and sighed. He climbed out of his bed and, careful not to wake his wife, crept down the stairs in his bathrobe.  That damned cat, he thought, always banging into this or that downstairs – graceful animal my ass.  But as he entered the living room he saw his cat purring on the lap of a Hispanic man who looked to be in his late 20s. 

        “Please,” he said in a whisper, his eyes going wide, “take whatever you want.  Just don't hurt us.” 

        “I'm not here to hurt you, Professor Frankle.  I'm here to help you,” said Carlos. 

        “How, how do you know my name?” stammered the professor. 

        “My name's Carlos,” he said calmly, “Now that we're acquainted, please take a seat and I'll explain everything.” 

        The professor hesitantly sat across from him.  And Carlos proceeded to tell him everything he knew – how Erin dealt drugs for him, how she had started dealing her own supply, how it came from weed she was supposed to be growing for Professor Frankle, how she was turning the campus women into addle-brained stoners.  When he finished they sat in silence for a minute. 

        “Why did you tell me all this?” Frankle finally asked. 

        “Because I want your help.” 

        “My help with what?” 

        “Erin has wronged both of us.  She's using your drug, a drug that could be unfathomably valuable, to make her own campus empire.  And she's stealing profit and clients away from me.  So I want you to help me take her down.  I get my clients back, and you get to publish who knows how many articles on a radical biological breakthough.” 

        “You expect me to help a drug dealer, what, kill a student of mine?” 

        “I expect you to help me stop a girl who has hidden from you a potential goldmine of research.  Think of how famous you could be – the articles, the lectures, the accolades.  And no, of course not kill her.  Just maybe make her a...victim of her own success.” 

        “And how would I help?” Frankle asked. 

        “You sneak into your own lab and make off with some samples of this Royal O.  I bet Erin's gotten sloppy with her newfound power – I'm sure she won't notice the missing product.  Then you see if you can process it into some more...novel forms.  I'm sure a man of your skills can harvest the raw plant into something more impressive than Erin's work.  I'll use that to win back the clients and give Erin a taste of her own medicine.” 

        “And then?” 

        “And then you leave me alone to act as a small time dealer to students I'm sure you don't give two shits about, and I leave you alone to announce the discovery of your super potent weed and the potential medical advances that could come from it.” 

        Frankle sat back in his chair, deep in thought.  This was the craziest thing he had ever heard.  But god was he tired of being the unnoticed, doddering 60-something professor, the old man no one took seriously.  And as for Erin, he couldn't believe she would keep such a fascinating breakthrough to herself for her own personal gain.  He had given her that job and this was how she repaid him? 

        “One more thing,” said Carlos, delivering his final plus, “how often do you and the misses get intimate?” 

        “Why, that's none of your business!” exclaimed Frankle. 

        “Based on your, uh, attire, I'm betting you two are one step away from separate beds.” 

        “Well so what if we are? I'm a man of science – maybe I've put such physical pursuits behind me!” 

        “Sure you have.  Just to let you know, it seems that Erin has discovered that not only do users seem to get hooked on Royal O almost immediately, they are also very, very suggestible.  Especially when it comes to sex.” 

        “What are you saying?” asked Frankle. 

        “I'm just saying that if you wanted to take a little Royal O and give it to your wife, I wouldn't mind at all.  In fact, I can guarantee that, if you handle it right, she'll take to it like a fish to water.  After all, Erin's been able to convince even the most stringent non-users.  And once you've got her hooked, I bet your love life could take a 180 degree turn.” 

        “Are you suggesting I turn my wife into a pothead?” 

        “Your choice,” said Carlos with a shrug, “she might not be as good at solving the Sunday crossword puzzle, but how long has it been since she sucked your dick?” 

        As if on cue, Professor Frankle's wife called from the top of the stairs, “Honey, what's going on down there?” 

        There was a lull.  Frankle looked at Carlos and Carlos didn't look away.  A few seconds passed. 

        “Nobody dear,” called Frankle, “just talking to myself.  I'm coming right up – go back to bed.” 

        Professor Frankle rose from his chair, but before leaving the room he stuck out his hand.  Carlos shook it.  Then Carlos headed for the door and Frankle, taking the cat, headed back up the stairs. 

        *** 

        Two days later Erin let herself into the lab to fill up on her supply of Royal O.  She had meant to do it first thing that morning instead of the afternoon, but seeing Kelly Penderis naked and stoned in her bed had sidetracked her plans a little.  She was still a bit fuzzy from the joint Kelly had smoked while eating her out. 

        As Erin cut fresh bud off the plants, she felt a tingling in the back of her mind that something was wrong.  Were there fewer plants than last time?  She did a quick headcount, and there did seem to be a three fewer plants than her count from last week.  How was that possible?  She counted again.  Well the plants couldn't have just walked off.  She must have miscounted last week.  But if she miscounted, why did it look off to her now? 

        Erin's phone buzzed with a text.  She had a new message from Stephanie.  “Kelly andd I blazin at ur place,” it read, “Cum back soon and lez hav fun!”  She had already smoked a little this morning and tried to refrain from doing it more than once in one day, but the thought of Kelly, Stephanie, and her naked and wreathed in smoke did sound tempting.  Erin hurried up with her trimmings and dropped the issue of number of plants from her mind.  Why worry?  Either way, she still had plenty of weed.  She finished up and headed back to her room for an afternoon of hazy, blissful fun.  It was going to be a good day.

PART EIGHTEEN: NEW GOODS AND NEW SISTERS 

        Professor Frankle spread the goods on the table.  Carlos leaned down to look at them.  It was a small canister with a nozzle at the end, a plastic bag of pills, and what looked to be a bottle of lotion. 

        “You've been busy these last two weeks,” said Carlos, “walk me through them.” 

        “I simply condensed RHC46 into a variety of forms.  The pills are almost pure THC.  More like a very powerful tranquilizer.  Twenty to thirty minutes after ingestion the effects will be...severe.  The canister is an aerosol spray, like an even more potent version of the smoked version of RHC46.” 

        “How potent?” 

        “A single breath, three at the most, will leave the subject thoroughly intoxicated,” the professor replied.” 

        “And the, what is that, suntan lotion?” 

        “Ah, my personal favorite,” he said, “I call it Lullaby Lotion.  THC can be ingested through the skin after all.  Rub it on any exposed skin and the result will be as pronounced as a marijuana cigarette.” 

        “They're called joints,” said Carlos. 

        There was a banging from behind him and Carlos turned.  Mrs. Frankle stumbled into the room from the kitchen, holding a tall glass of iced tea in one hand and wearing nothing more than an untied bathrobe.  She was an older women, but Carlos had to admit she had a pretty good figure, including her tits which the bathrobe did little to hide.  She sauntered by them and Carlos noticed how bloodshot her eyes were. 

        “Ohhh, helllooo,” she slurred, “bbabbby, you ddidn't telll me wee haad guessts.” 

        “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Frankle,” said Carlos, but the words didn't seem to register. 

        “Doon't miind me,” she said, “juuus getttin more medi, mediccine.” 

        And with that she stumbled past the two of them and up the stairs.  Carlos turned to Frankle and raised an eyebrow. 

        “Taking my advice after all, you old dog?” he said. 

        “I, uh, well,” stammered Frankle, “I may have diluted it into a tincture and convinced her it was a new medicinal herbal tea.  You were right, she has quite taken to it.” 

        “Was I right about everything I said?” 

        Frankle blushed and said, “A gentleman never tells.  But the results have been...most promising.  So what will you do with these products?” 

        Carlos snatched up the items on the table and rose. 

        “Make some new friends,” he said. 

        *** MEANWHILE *** 

        DEAR DIARY:  Rush Week has been like so frickin amazing!  My first choice was Tri-Delt – obvi – but I figured it was a slim chance.  I mean all the prettiest, coolest girls want to be Tri-Delts.  That's why they even start hazing during rush, because they know all the girls who visit want to be a member.  So first they made us strip and they poured like ketchup and mustard all over us.  Gross, right?  Then we had to take a cold shower together – no biggie, cleaned off all the shit anyway.  Then we got blindfolded and asked all these crazy personal questions.  I didn't mind though, because hopefully these girls will all be my sisters soon.   

        But then guess what happened?  Dawn Mercer – Dawn FUCKING Mercer – the Tri-Delt president and coolest girl in the whole FUCKING world – came in and asked me – ME!!! - to come with her.  She even said my name!  Never has “Kate Schulman” sounded cooler.  So I basically peed my pants.  Anyway, she takes me to her room (her room! EEK!) and says that she can tell I'm totally Tri-Delt material.  She asks me about how I'm liking rushing and college and I'm just trying not to fuck up and play it cool. 

        Then out of nowhere she whips out this joint and asks if I toke.  At first I was totally confused. I thought Tri-Delt was chem free, especially Dawn, and I wasn't sure if this was a test.  Plus I had never smoked pot before, so I was way nervous.  But Dawn could see how freaked out I was (she's so cool!) and she told me it was no biggie, that all the Tri-Delts loved to smoke and that if I wanted to join I'd have to at least try it.  I wasn't sure, but she said if I didn't like it then don't worry about it, and before I could say another word she had lit the joint! 

        I know what you're thinking – I had totally signed that drug free pledge and swore up and down to my friends and parents that college wasn't going to change me.  Blah blah.  But this was Dawn Mercer!  If she says a joint is ok, it must be ok, right?  I wasn't really sure how to smoke it or how hard to inhale or anything, but Dawn was super super nice.  She didn't say anything when I coughed, and she showed me how to hold the joint and hold in the smoke.  I remember it burned some and it smelled pretty nice, but honestly I couldn't think about anything other than Dawn Mercer sitting right beside me, touching my hand, knowing my name, telling me to take another hit. 

        After that everything got a little fuzzy.  But not bad fuzzy.  I gotta tell you – weed is amazing!! I can't believe I never tried it before.  After just three puffs she put out the joint – she said it was super strong stuff – and boy was she right!  I had heard people sometimes don't feel it the first time but I felt it.  I felt it a lot!  It was like being underwater and up in the clouds all the once.  It was like having a huge secret that you can't tell anyone.  It was like turning off your brain and feeling so stupid and loving it.  Does that make sense?  Dawn really described it perfectly.  She told me how relaxed I'd feel, how happy, and it just came true. 

        And man was I stupid.  I couldn't stop smiling and giggling, and I could barely understand what Dawn was saying.  She told me she had called me up here because she had a fun new plan for hazing and she needed the help of a cool rushing girl (me!!).  She was going to make the final eight girls get into a closet, and then she was going to pump it full of weed smoke and get them stoned off their asses.  It sounded crazy to me, but whatever.  She wanted me to be her “inside man.” LOL!  Someone to make sure none of the girls figured it out or freaked out.  I was like whatever, too busy zoning out and smiling at nothing.  Once Dawn thought I had it down she lit the joint up again and I don't really remember what happened for the rest of the evening, but somehow I got back to my room (college, right? Haha, awesome). 

        Anyway, by the end of the week there were only eight girls left including me, and I was starting to think I had imagined the whole thing when Dawn said we had one last thing to do.  We all crammed into this clothes closet and Dawn gave me a huge wink.  It was so totally exciting to be in on a secret with Dawn!  So we're all in the closet for like ten minutes and first we're all quiet and scared, but then people get bored and start chatting and forget why we're worried until one girl says “Do I smell weed?” 

        And she was right – it definitely smelled like weed, two other girls agreed.  But I did my part! Dawn would be so proud!  I kept going “I don't smell anything” and “What are you guys talking about?”  Even when it started getting super smokey in the closet, I kept talking and joking and saying “What do you mean it's all smokey in here? Are you sure?”  Although I didn't have to do it for long – damn that weed of hers is strong.  I guess.  I mean I've never tried any other type.  But she tells me it's the strongest stuff there is.  Really great, just the way it makes you feel and think.  Really. 

        Sorry, got distracted – so anyway I only had to keep the girls distracted and guessing for a few minutes, because after just a little bit they were so stoned!  No more questions or worrying – they were all just giggling and droopy-eyed and forgetful.  Which is good because I was just as stoned!  I don't think I could've kept them distracted any more if I tried.  Like my mind was totally blank, just happy and air and stuff instead of thoughts.  And I'm sure the rest of the girls were feeling it too. 

        So after another minute the door opened and Dawn and the other girls were there and they cheered and welcomed us to Tri-Delt.  We were all too baked to do anything but smile and laugh.  You'd think some of the girls would've been bothered, but no, hazing like that makes you super close.  Now we're all like sisters.  And we all smoke.  Like totally.  That night the Tri-Delt girls showed us new girls how to use bongs and blunts and stuff.  Everything got really forgetty. 

        And now I'm a Tri-Delt! HOORAY!!!  It's like a dream come true – I get to hang out with Dawn FUCKING Mercer almost every day.  We chat and go shopping and smoke.  Weird that I smoke pot now.  Like I guess we do it all the time – it's what Dawn and her sisters are always doing.  It would've bothered me before, but I like totally don't care.  I guess once you try it you realize it's no big deal.  Dawn even gave me rolling papers and a baggie of my own and said I should feel free to smoke whenever, like get used to smoking in my dorm room or when alone.  She said it's all about loving yourself and not needing other people to have a good time.   

        She even told me about a friend she has – Aaron or Erin or something – who'll always hook me up if I need more.  What a fucking awesome girl, right?  Speaking of which, I could really go for a puff or two. Dawn says I gotta build up a tolerance to hang out with the other girls (although they all seem to get baked every time they smoke – weird!)  I've got class in like half an hour, but whatever.  I'm a Tri-Delt now!!  Fuck everything else!  Be right back! 

        Annyyway, anyyway, I was, I was.  Shiit, I cant even tyype.  Hahaha, I cant eveen rememmber what Iwas sayingg.  Thekeyboards all blurryandshitt.  I thinkI smooked toomuch!! Hahaha.  Ilove colllege.  Whatdyo think diary?? Shoulld I put on sunglassess and goto class, or should I skipp and finishh the jjoint?  EXXACTLY!! Hahah, pufffpuff! 

PART NINETEEN: HAVING FUN 

        For three nights in a row Carlos hung around the campus parties testing out his new toys.  He remembered what Professor Frankle had said – that while all three would create the same irresistible stoned bliss of Royal O, each also intensified a specific component of the weed.  The pills increased the “subject's sexuality” until it was closer to ecstasy than pot.  The lotion increased the “subject's relaxation” until it was practically a sedative.  And the spray increased the “subject's confusion” until they were impossibly easy to corrupt.  But Carlos wanted to see it all for himself. 

        Now Erin would've coaxed some already intoxicated coeds back to her place for experimentation.  But Carlos wasn't Erin.  Not by a long shot.  He was a little less persuasive and a little more forceful.  First there was Kay St. Claire.  He crushed a Royal O pill into her drink when she wasn't looking.  Twenty minutes later he was fingering her on the dance floor.  And ten minutes after that he watched her jerk and suck off a half dozen drunk frat boys in their kitchen. 

        Then there was Alice Wood.  As she stumbled drunkenly out of a party he came up behind her and in one swift motion grabbed her by the waist and pressed the small gas mask to her mouth.  She cried out, sucking in her first breath.  He whispered in her ear to relax as she gulped down her second.  By her third she couldn't remember why she was fighting, what was wrong, who this boy was, where she was, or why she felt so good.  Carlos, ever the gentleman, answered all of her slurred, broken questions.  He pulled a joint out of his back pocket and she realized how badly she wanted to smoke it.  Then he guided her back to his car where Alice realized how badly she wanted a backseat fuck. 

        Lastly there was Juanita Reyes.  Carlos actually brought Juanita back to his place, coaxing her with a few bowls of regular weed.  Once there she wasn't one to turn down a free back massage.  As he smoothed the lotion onto her back she remarked how cool and nice it felt.  He couldn't see her face, so Carlos asked her to keep talking as he rubbed it in.  It took only a few seconds for her words to start to slur and dip, and a few seconds more for her to trail off entirely.  When he moved around to the front of her he found himself staring into vacant, glassy eyes shut to slits and a slack-jawed smile.  She happily took him into her mouth. 

        Slowly but surely Carlos simultaneously tested his goods and found new customers.  Word began to spread that more than one person had access to Royal O.  “You gotta visit Carlos,” said one girl to another in a sorority bathroom, “he's got this mask he presses to your face that makes everything so wonderful.” “He gave me a back massage I'd say I'll never forget if I could remember half of it.” “I don't know what happened or how it happened, but I'm glad it happened.”  And all the while Carlos didn't forget his target, his purpose – the girl on the other side of campus who, at that very moment, was unwittingly moving closer to Carlos's wishes for her. 

        *** 

        Erin hadn't intended to get so stoned.  She hadn't intended to smoke at all.  There was chemistry homework, and she was planning to meet with some freshmen who wanted to buy a whole ounce, and she had wanted to prune some fresh stock from the lab.  But there was just something about the way Stephanie came bouncing into the dorm, with her blonde curls and short skirt and giddy smile, and then proceeded to smoke every iota of that spunk out of herself.  It got Erin every time. 

        “You wanna smoke?” Stephanie had asked in a giggly, sing song. 

        “No, I can't,” Erin had said. 

        “Do you wanna watch me get fucked up?” she had asked, just as innocently. 

        And Erin did want that.  She wanted it a lot.  She watched Stephanie suck up bong hit after bong hit, until her laugh turned to a giggle turned to a low, slurred chuckle.  Until her eyes went from bright and eager to glassy and lidded.  Until her arms, legs, and head sank back into the cushions. 

        Erin knew she should open a window, but she liked the smell, the way that even Stephanie's exhalations were enough to give Erin a nice, tingling sense of well-being.  It was amazing how nobody seemed to build up a tolerance to Royal O.  People wanted more and more of it, more and more often, but their tolerance never increased.  It was one of the things Erin wanted to research more of.  But later. Definitely later.   

        And when Stephanie stood from the couch, wobbled in place for a moment, and then tottered over to Erin with the bong, Erin knew she was going to smoke.  How could she say no to that face? To that feeling? 

        “Gett stoooned wittt meee,” said Stephanie with a sloppy smile. 

        Erin took the bong and lit the chamber, drawing a large hit into her lungs.  God she loved how it tasted.  She practically felt it rushing into her blood and saturating her brain.  Stephanie pulled at Erin's blouse with clumsy fingers.  Erin let Stephanie lift it off her and then remove her bra.  Then Erin did the same to Stephanie.   

        “Annuder hitt,” slurred Stephanie, the same grin still plastered on her face. 

        Erin did as she was told.  She felt her own grin start to appear.  The room began humming and tingling and softening all at once.  Erin watched a tiny tendril of smoke drift out of the bowl.  She opened her mouth and exhaled her second hit, a great snake of smoke joining the tiny tendril.  Erin giggled.  She felt so good.  Every time she smoked Royal O she felt this good.  Sometimes she envied girls like Stephanie and Janie who spent their whole day in this haze. 

        Stephanie's hands found Erin's breasts and Erin moaned.  Erin began to do the same to Stephanie.  Stephanie took her hands from Erin's breast and took the bong.  She lifted the bong to Erin's lips with one hand and lit it with the other.  Erin inhaled, and inhaled and inhaled and inhaled, before Erin finally lifted the bowl and it rushed up into Erin's lungs. 

        Then Stephanie placed her lips to Erin's and Erin exhaled the hit into Stephanie's mouth.  Stephanie held it for a moment and exhaled it back to Erin.  The girls did this four more times, breathing each others' inhales until they were dizzy from lack of oxygen.  But when they broke apart the dizziness didn't go away.  If anything it intensified, until Erin felt like waves of blissful confusion were crashing over her.   

        Her vision tunneled.  Her arms felt so heavy and her brain felt so wonderfully empty.  A distant corner of her mind heard the flick of a lighter and realized Stephanie was taking another hit, a hit she was bound to share with Erin.  Erin knew this hit would be the end of her day, the end of her memory of the next few hours.  She snaked a hand between her legs and found herself very wet.  She couldn't wait. 

        *** 

        The next morning at Carlos's apartment Juanita Reyes woke with a smile on her face.  She couldn't quite remember how the night before had turned out, but she knew for sure that she had enjoyed it.  She put on her bra and panties, gathering her things while trying not to wake Carlos. 

        “You going somewhere?” he yawned, roused by her movements. 

        “Gotta get to class,” she said, “why don't you go back to bed?” 

        “Why don't you blow off class and join me?” he replied, “I've got a packed bowl with your name on it.” 

        “Mmmm, sounds tempting,” she said, “but I probably shouldn't.” 

        As Juanita reached for her socks Carlos picked up the tube of lotion from the bedside table.  He sat up and smeared a pad off it across her shoulders.  Juanita looked back at him and smiled. 

        “That feels nice,” she said, “you used that last night, didn't you?  When you gave me a massage?” 

        “Did you like it?” he asked. 

        “I did,” she said, sitting back down on the bed, “it felt refreshing and.......” 

        Juanita trailed off and her eyes fluttered.  A smile flicked across her lips.   

        “Whoa,” she said quietly. 

        “What?” 

        “I feel, I feel strange,” she said. 

        “Good strange or bad strange?” Carlos asked. 

        “....good strange,” she said after a moment. 

        “Maybe you should lie down beside me for a second,” he said. 

        “Yeah,” she said, “that'd.....that'd be nice.  Sorry I just feel so, hehe, I feel kinda stoned.” 

        “Stoned?” asked Carlos, feigning surprise. 

        “But how did....how did....that lotion? Is there something.....in that lotion?  I just feel really like, really....relaxxxxed.   Yeaah.   Mmmmm.  I felt really relaaxxed......last night....too...maybe.....that lotion.....” 

        “This lotion?” asked Carlos, raising it and spreading another small dab on the side of her neck. 

        Juanita hardly reacted, except for a small moan as he rubbed the cool substance into her skin. 

        “Yeaahh.....maybe I'll just.....yeah.....hehe....just for a little while.....” 

        Carlos watched Juanita sink back into the bed.  God that stuff worked fast.  He loved it.  She looked like she felt so wonderful, so dreamy and relaxed. 

        As if she read his mind she slurred, “I feeel like I'm dreeaming....” 

        “Want to make it a good dream?” asked Carlos, lifting the gas mask. 

        “Wazzz dat?” asked Juanita, barely keeping her suddenly heavy eyes open. 

        “It's a recipe that'll keep you in bed and feeling good all day.  You want that?” 

        Juanita did.  Class and homework and all that seemed so far away in her mind.  She nodded.  How did she get so stoned?  It didn't matter.  Nothing mattered.  Nothing except getting more stoned.  Carlos smiled as he pressed the gas mask to Juanita's lips and she took it willingly, eager to stay baked for the rest of the day.  And looking at her sexy, half-naked, wasted form, he decided it was time to expand his operation.

PART TWENTY:  RECRUITMENT 

        “You look like your feeling good,” said Carlos. 

        “Imma feeelin good,” said Dawn, sauntering across the smoke-filled room. 

        “How much have you smoked?” he asked, taking a seat. 

        “Les seee, I schmoked a teensy weensy jointy this mornin with one of my sisterss,” Dawn scrunched up her brow, trying to remember the girl's name, but it didn't come to her and she moved on, “an then, an then a few bowl hiits after class.” 

        “You went to class?” he asked, feigning surprise. 

        “Of coourse!  Imma good girl!” 

        “And the joint that I gave you.” 

        “Whaa?” she asked, confused., her body swaying gently in place. 

        “You smoked that too.  The joint I gave you.” 

        “Das riight!  Thank yoou!  It was a niice joint!  An now it's insiide mee! Hehe.” 

        Carlos sized her up.  He had heard that Dawn Mercer was the lord and master of all Tri Delts, but all he saw was low hanging fruit.  She had been stoned when she had answered the door to her house, never mind that it was 4pm on a Tuesday, and he had actually convinced her to give him a tour of her room.  He couldn't believe people still fell for those cheesy lines.  But she had happily escorted him in. 

        And that had been before he told her he sold Royal O.  Her eyes had lit up at the news, or as much as they could when bloodshot and lidded.  She had said that only her friend Erin had Royal O, to which Carlos had replied Erin was his friend too.  If Dawn didn't believe him, she could sample the goods.  Which led to the joint – half regular weed and half Royal O - and the smoke and the now wasted girl in front of him.  Carlos figured she was his for the taking at any point, but he wanted to enjoy her company first before he got down to business. 

        “That sounds like a fair amount.  Think you've had enough?” 

        “No!” she exclaimed, “I loove weed.  Mmm, I love how it maakes me feel.” 

        “And how does it make you feel?” 

        “Gooood,” she said, drawing out the syllables as she closed her eyes, losing herself for a moment in her dreamy haze, “maaakes me feel, I dunno, hehe, silly.  So silly.  Stuupid. Relaxed.” 

        “How often do you like to smoke?” 

        “Evveryday all day! Hehe, I mean, all day everyday!  I wish, I wish......I wish I was alwwaaays stooned.  I wish I was alwaays puffpuffpufff...hey!” she exclaimed, suddenly looking at Carlos with a mischievous grin, “do yoou have any more?” 

        “I dunno,” said Carlos, “you seem pretty high already.” 

        “Preettty please,” said Dawn. 

        “I'll trade you a puff for a piece of clothing,” said Carlos. 

        Dawn stared at him blankly for a moment before giggling.  “You're silly,” she said. 

        But she lifted her blouse up over her head, getting stuck in it for a moment before remembering how clothing worked.  She tossed it to the ground and wobbled, almost losing her balance.  Then she unzipped her skirt and shimmied out of it.  She giggled once more and Carlos felt himself grow hard, staring at her perfect body hidden only by underwear, her dopey smile, her unfocused eyes. 

        “I wanna two puffs,” she said, grinning. 

        “If you say so,” he said, and when he took another joint from his pocket he could see her almost squeal with pleasure, “but I think you need to beg for it.” 

        Dawn giggled again and awkwardly lowered herself to her knees.  She began to unsteadily crawl toward Carlos on all four. 

        “Pleeasse,” she said with a playful grin, “I wanna smooke.  Lemme smoooke.” 

        As she reached Carlos he lit the joint.  But instead of handing it to her he just extended it toward her lips.  Still on all fours Dawn leaned forward and daintily closed her lips around the joint.  She inhaled, held it, exhaled.  She did it again.  After the second puff Carlos pulled the joint away.  She leaned forward more, trying to get another puff, and made a pouty face when he snubbed it out. 

        “Sorry,” he said, “I don't want you to get too wasted yet.” 

        “Noo faair,” she slurred, “I wanna get fuucked up.” 

        “Quite the little pothead.” 

        “Mmmhmm,” she nodded, hauling herself up and collapsing onto the chair beside Carlos, “hehe, Ima stoner.  Stoned stoned stoned........” 

        She let her head drape back on the chair and closed her eyes again, a smile of contentment spreading across her lips.  After a moment she opened her eyes, and when she saw Carlos it was clear she had forgotten he was there. 

        “Last two puffs kicking in?” he asked. 

        “Yeahhh,” she said with the look of a guilty girl who wanted to get caught. 

        “Got all the Royal O you need?” 

        “Naaah,” she said after a minute, “I alllways wanna schmoke moore.” 

        “You know I've got some special types of Royal O,” said Carlos, leaning in like it was a secret and taking the gas mask from his back pocket, “but it'll make you really high.  Really forgetty.” 

        “I liike forgetty,” said Dawn, suddenly eager, eying the gas mask. 

        “Are you sure?” asked Carlos, “You're pretty stoned.  I probably shouldn't – it'll make you too stupid.” 

        “Nooo,” said Dawn, “I like forgettttinng.  I forget stuff all da timme now and I, I loove it.  Pleaase make me stuupid.  I wanna be sooo stupid for you.” 

        “If you insist,” said Carlos. 

        Carlos grabbed Dawn and lifted her into his lap in one gentle motion.  She giggled with delight.  He pressed the mask to her lips and let the gas flow.  Her eyes widened for a second as they tasted that Royal O and then they started to dim. 

        “That's it,” said Carlos, “just a few breaths.  Just enough to get the job done.” 

        Dawn didn't say anything.  After a few moments he took it away.  She stared up at him blankly.  He was worried her gave her too much, but after a second her smile returned to her face. 

        “Dasss so.....so.......hehe......I like you,” she slurred. 

        “How you feeling?” he asked. 

        “Mmmmm.....forgetty.....yeah,” she managed to say. 

        “Do you remember my name?” he asked, “or why I'm here?” 

        He could tell she barely even understood the question.  After a moment she shook her head.  She couldn't remember.  But she didn't care either.   

        “What about the name of your best friend?” 

        “......I....I dunno.....hehe.....I feel so, so, stuppid.” 

        “Want me to tell you?” 

        “Yeeessh.” 

        “I'm your best friend,” said Carlos, “and my name is Carlos.  And I'm your best friend because I give you all the Royal O you want, as much as Erin gives you and more.  But I also give you something else – good ideas.  Do you want a good idea?” 

        Dawn nodded.  He knew she wasn't getting much of this, but he was just planting the seed.  Tomorrow when he said this all again she'd be that much more susceptible.  He looked at her trying to focus in amusement, her attention flickering in and out.  He watched her try and fail to think of something to say.   

        “You've got all these girls living here who love to smoke, and when they smoke they love to fuck.  So let them smoke and fuck all they want, all the time.  Only why not ask the boys they do it with for money?  Think about how rich we could get.  You'd like that wouldn't you? To smoke and fuck and get rich?” 

        Dawn nodded.  Carlos smiled and Dawn smiled back, but she wasn't sure why they were smiling.  Better to smoke that away too, she thought, until you can't even remember what you can't remember. 

        “Can I.....cann I breatthhe in moore?” she asked, “I wannaa, hehe, I wanna be goone.” 

        “Of course you can,” said Carlos, satisfied now, “but if you want to be gone, how about a nice weed nap?” 

        “Yaahhh,” said Dawn. 

        “You know I've got another type of Royal O that, with you this stoned, will probably put you right to bed.  Would you like that?” 

        “Mmmmm, yeaaah, now Ima sleeppy.  Hehe, I wasssnt before, but now, you said, you saaaid.....whaa did you saaay?” 

        “I didn't say anything.  You said you wanted to take a weed nap.” 

        “Yeeeeah.....thasss, thass it.” 

        Carlos eased the lotion from his back pocket.  He squirted a substantial amount on Dawn's shoulders and began to rub it in.  She watched him curiously, unsure of what he was doing, but he saw the interest fade in her eyes as the lotion took over, the Royal O robbing her of that tiny last bit of awareness. 

        “That's it,” he said, “and tomorrow we can talk about my plans some more.  I've also got some pills I'd like to introduce you and the girls too, might make you more eager for the...sexual aspects.” 

        “Pillllsss,” Dawn slurred as her eyes grew glassier and glassier. 

        Carlos kept rubbing the lotion in, staring into her eyes as they slid shut.  Dawn moaned lightly.  Her mouth slipped open.  Her eyes opened once more, flickered and closed, opened again, closed more slowly, opened on last time, and then shut for good.  He felt her drift into a stoney sleep.  So far so good, he thought.

PART TWENTY ONE: COAXED AND FORCED (PART A) 

        “Let me guess.  Erin.” 

        Erin, dressed in just a t-shirt and sweatpants on a lazy Sunday morning, had opened the door expecting a desperate customer or, fingers crossed, a stoned Stephanie booty call.  Instead she found herself staring down a woman who appeared to be in her 40s.  Erin saw she was attractive, with long red hair and large breasts tucked inside a snappy pants suit, but most of all Erin saw she looked pissed.  Seriously pissed.   

        “Can I help you?” Erin asked. 

        The woman strode past Erin into the common room of the dorm.  She looked around with disdain, sniffed the air, and turned to face Erin. 

        “My name is Pauline Kearns.” 

        “Do I...know you?” asked Erin. 

        “No,” said Pauline, “but perhaps you know my daughter Emily.  I was in town for a fundraising event with the dean and I decided to stop in and surprise my baby girl.  Only she surprised me.  Because instead of studying or reading or watching a new Paul Rudd movie with her girlfriends, she was smoking this.” 

        Pauline pulled a barely smoked joint out of her purse and held it up to Erin like it was a smoking gun. 

        “Emily's a loyal girl, I'll give her that,” Pauline continued sternly, “she didn't want to give you up.  But her loyalty can't match my tenacity.  I didn't stop hounding her until she promised never to use the stuff again, and until she told me who sold it to her.  Do you know who sold it to her?” 

        Erin, still trying to get a handle on the situation, stammered “I did?” 

        “That's right.  You did.  And I will not have my daughter cavorting with drug dealers, let alone buying and using their products.  I don't even want my daughter at the same school as drug dealers. And if I want someone gone, well, I have some powerful friends in the administration.” 

        “Are you, are you going to get me expelled?” Erin asked. 

        “I haven't decided yet.  Do you want to make your case?” 

        “I promise I won't sell weed to your daughter ever again,” said Erin, the bullshit effortlessly spilling out of her mouth, “or anyone.  I won't sell it to anyone.  Just please don't get me expelled – school is so important to me. That's why I started dealing.  To pay tuition.” 

        “Well there are certainly easier ways to raise money than dealing drugs.” 

        Pauline sighed and sat down on Erin's couch.  She patted the cushion beside her and Erin hesitantly sat down. 

        “I'm not a cruel woman,” Pauline continued, “I just want the best for my daughter, and for everyone at this school.  And drugs don't help anyone.  They ruin lives.” 

        “And I only deal pot,” said Erin, “it's not like it's cocaine or meth or something.  Not all drugs are the same.” 

        “I know that dear.  I'm well aware of the differences.  That's why I'm here – to give you another chance.  Because I think you haven't strayed so far that you can't be saved.” 

        “Well aware of the differences?” asked Erin, seeing a chance to turn the tide, “How? Have you seen or tried any drugs before?” 

        “What? Of course not,” exclaimed Pauline. 

        “Well how can you be so judgmental if you've never tried it?” 

        “Don't be silly.  I don't need to try pea soup to know it's disgusting.  I don't need to climb Everest to know it's cold.” 

        “This isn't the Himalayas – it's college. College is about exploration.  Experimentation.” 

        “Don't lecture me, young lady,” Pauline snapped, “I've been to the Amazon – that's exploration.  I've built a real estate company from nothing – that's experimentation.  Exploration and experimentation take bravery and strength of character.  Not exactly the character traits of a stoner.” 

        “Do you really think your daughter is a stoner because she smoked a joint?” asked Erin, well aware that Emily was a full blown stoner but banking on the fact that her mother only found the one joint, “I'm an organic chem major with an A average. Do you think I'm a stoner?” 

        “Maybe you are,” said Pauline. 

        “Maybe you're just afraid,” said Erin, taking a chance. 

        “Excuse me?” 

        “You're brave enough to start your own business, but you're freaked out when your daughter smokes a joint in college, something millions of people do every day?  You berate your daughter and me for something harmless you've never even tried?  Seems pretty cowardly to me.” 

        “Pauline Kearns is not a coward!” Pauline roared. 

        “Prove it,” said Erin. 

*** 

        Carlos heard the knock on his apartment door.  He wasn't expecting anyone – it was a lazy Sunday afternoon – so he opened it hesitantly, worried it could be a problem.  But it was just a chipper brunette, dressed in a strange blue outfit with her hair in pigtails   

        “Good morning!” she announced, launching into a speech as soon as the door opened, “My name is Tessa and I'm a Big Sister!  I'm just a high school senior, but I volunteer every weekend for Big Sisters, helping young girls find mentors.  But we can't perform our services without donations from caring...” 

        Tessa trailed off when she saw Janie behind Carlos on the couch.  Janie was dressed in only her underwear and, dead to the world, was lifting a bong to her lips. 

        “Caring citizens such as yourself,” continued Tessa, trying to concentrate but unable to look away from Janie. 

        Carlos saw what was distracting the eager young girl and smiled. 

        “What?” he asked, “never seen a bong before?” 

        “I, uh, no, not really, but, I'm sorry, what I'm here for is-” 

        “I know why you're here,” Carlos interrupted, “but I've got a better idea.  If I'm going to turn Dawn's sorority house into a brothel, it might be worth finding out if you can make a pothead completely against her will.” 

        “Excuse me?” said Tessa, unsure of what this strange man was talking about, “I, uh, I better go.” 

        Tessa turned and started to hurry away.  Carlos snatched the gas mask from his table and rushed out after her.  Tessa looked behind her, saw Carlos, and started to run.  But Carlos was faster.  He caught up with her halfway down the staircase, clamping the mask to her lips.  Tessa screamed, muffled with the plastic over her mouth and nose.  White smoke flooded the mask and she tasted something warm and fragrant. 

        She pulled at Carlos's arms, but he was stronger too.  She flailed out with her legs and the two fell backwards on the stair.  Carlos wrapped his legs around her waist, pinning her in place.  She struggled and bucked, crying out and unwittingly taking in great gulping breaths. 

        “Don't fight,” said Carlos, “don't fight.  Just breathe it in.  It'll be so much easier if you just give in.” 

        Tessa pulled against the strange man to no avail.  She felt dizzy.  Why did she feel so dizzy?  She could feel the weight of his body holding her in place, but some other weight seemed to be pressing on her brain.  She had to get free, had to get free because....because....why did she have to get free?  Free from whom?...This man, that's right!  She had to get free from this man so......because.... god, it was so hard to think, so hard to concentrate. 

        “That's it,” said Carlos, feeling the strength seep out of her and the confusion dull her eyes. 

        Her arms and legs felt so soft and difficult to move.  Everything was fuzzy, but in a nice way.  Tessa wasn't sure what that meant, but it was true.  She knew she was supposed to do something, was trying to get somewhere, but she couldn't think of the answer.  Maybe it had something to do with how nice she felt? Maybe if she concentrated on that it would all work out?   

        Carlos removed the mask and opened his legs.  Tessa made no move to run.  Carlos helped her to her feet.  He looked around to make sure no one had seen anything, but the hallway and stairwell looked empty.  Speaking of empty, Tessa stared up at him with empty eyes. Use after use, the speed of the gas never failed to amaze him. 

        “What.....what's goin on?” she asked. 

        “I was just showing you inside my apartment,” said Carlos. 

        “You.....you wereee?” she asked. 

        “Because we were going to hang out.  You want to hang out, right Tessa?” 

        Who was he?  What was going on? Tessa wasn't sure.  But he knew her name, so he must be a friend.  Yes, Tessa was certain he was a friend.  Why else would she feel so good right now, so relaxed, if she wasn't with a friend. 

        Carlos put his arm around her and led her back up the stairs into his apartment.  He asked her lots of questions – how old she was: eighteen, if she had come here alone: yes, if anyone knew she was here: no.  She had such a hard time thinking of the answers, but he seemed happy when she finally did, and she was glad to please her friend. 

        Both of her friends.  Because Carlos introduced her to his friend Janie.  Tessa was so glad to have two friends in one day.  Carlos and....and....Janie, that was it.  Hanging out with her new friends in...where was she again?  But no time for that now, because Janie had something she wanted to show Tessa.  It was a long glass tube with a bulb at the end.  Janie wanted to teach Tessa how to do something with it, and Tessa knew she needed to pay extra attention if she wanted to learn.

PART TWENTY ONE: COAXED AND FORCED (PART B) 

        Pauline, her jaw clenched with anger, stared at Erin.  The brat wanted her to prove it? Fine! Wordlessly she rose, snatched a lighter off Erin's table, and lit the joint from her pocket.  Without looking away from Erin she brought it to her lips, took a drag, held it for several seconds, and exhaled a cloud of smoke.   

        “There,” said Pauline, “now stop selling drugs to my daughter.” 

        “Come on,” said Erin, “that wasn't even a puff.” 

        “Are you kidding me?” 

        “I thought you were 'well aware' of these things?” said Erin with a grin, “Everyone knows you have to suck in more and hold it way longer.” 

        In reality Pauline had taken a legitimate toke, but Erin could tell she had no idea.  Pauline grunted in frustration, brought the joint to her lips, and took a second puff.  This one was much larger than the first and she held it much longer.  When she exhaled the cloud hung around her in the air for several seconds.  Then she snubbed the joint out and placed it on the table. 

        “Happy?” she asked, “because I'm not.” 

        “Sure,” said Erin. 

        “Now stop selling, leave my daughter alone, and I might leave you alone,” said Pauline as she walked toward the door. 

        “Wait,” said Erin, “you can't go.” 

        “What?” asked Pauline. 

        “You just took a hit off a joint – it's not safe to drive.” 

        “Are you serious?” asked Pauline, rolling her eyes, “I'm completely fine.  And since when did a drug dealer care about traffic laws?” 

        “You're fine now, but you'll probably start feeling it in a few seconds, and it isn't safe.  You're not setting a very good example.” 

        “Were college kids always so mouthy to their elders?” Pauline asked. 

        “Sorry,” said Erin, “To be honest I'm pretty impressed.  That was very bad ass of you.” 

        “Great, thanks, I impressed a child.  I wonder if that comes with a medal.” 

        Pauline giggled.  She looked as surprised by it as Erin did, bringing her hand to her mouth in shock.  This made Erin laugh, which caused Pauline to giggle again. 

        “I'm sorry,” said Pauline, “I'm not much of a, uh, giggler.  I don't know what came over me.” 

        Everything seemed weird all of a sudden.  Pauline wasn't sure how, but everything in the room felt like it changed.  Or that her way of looking at it changed.  She blinked once, twice.  She took a step and the ground tilted slightly.  She stumbled in her heels and caught herself. 

        “Whoa,” said Erin, springing to her feet, “let me help you sit.  You doing ok?” 

        “Yes,” said Pauline as Erin helped her sit back on the couch, “I'm fine.  I just felt a little dizzy all of a sudden.  A little...tipsy.” 

        The couch helped, but the sensation didn't seem to be lessening.  If anything it was getting stronger.  Had the couch been this soft when she had been sitting on it before?  Pauline wasn't sure.  She relaxed back into it.  Maybe this Erin girl had a point – she should probably stay here for a while just to be safe. 

        “Again, I'm really impressed how you did that, taking that puff.  I'm sorry if I was rude to you.” 

        “Don't, hehe, don't mention it,” said Pauline, suddenly finding it harder to retort. 

        “And the weed doesn't even seem to be affecting you.  You must have an iron constitution.” 

        “I..I have been told that, yes,” said Pauline. 

        “You know, since you seem totally fine, why not take another puff?” 

        “Excuse me?” asked Pauline, “Why...why would I do that?” 

        “To show how tough you are.  To really put me and Emily in our place.  Isn't that why you came here?” 

        “Yeah, but, but,” said Pauline, her mind suddenly fuzzy, fuzzy and warm, “that seems a, uh, uh, silly....silly way to.” 

        “I dunno.  I feel like you're proving that this type of experimentation is nothing compared to the stuff you've done.  Isn't that your point?  Plus with another puff you can really speak from experience. I wouldn't say so if you didn't seem so unaffected.” 

        That did seem to make sense.  Was she unaffected?  She felt so silly.  Giggly.  And when did she giggle?  But yeah, she felt fine too.  Maybe this Erin girl was right.  As Pauline tried to sort through the logic Erin rose and picked up the joint from the table.  She lit it and handed it to Pauline. 

        “I don't....I don't know,” said Pauline. 

        “I mean pot is so totally mild,” said Erin, “that's what I was trying to say earlier.  And you said you already knew.  So another puff can't hurt.” 

        Pauline hesitantly took the joint.  She brought it to her lips and inhaled.  It tasted warmer than she remembered, smoother.  She exhaled a few seconds later. 

        “You look pretty sexy with that joint in your hand,” said Erin, “a real bad ass mom.” 

        “Bad ass mom,” Pauline repeated and giggled, “I like, I like the sound of that.” 

        “I want to thank you for coming by today.  You could've just told the dean, but instead you're willing to help out and really talk to me.” 

        “Yeaah, yeah,” said Pauline, her tongue heavy, “You girls shouldn't, you shouldn't smoke. That was....why I wanted....wanted to come by.  Smoking pot is baad.” 

        “Yes, I know.  I'm sorry.  Although it's not all bad.” 

        “Yess it is.” 

        “I mean you have to admit there's a reason people do it.  You're not feeling even a tiny bit nice right now?  A tiny bit good?” 

        Pauline blushed. 

*** 

        Tessa swam back into awareness in bed.  She looked down and heaved a sigh of relief when she was she had been stripped, but just to her underwear.  What had happened? She vaguely remembered knocking on a door, and running, and some strange smell, and then everything got hazy.   

        “Welcome back,” said Carlos, whom Tessa suddenly noticed sitting across the room, “you were stoned off your gourd for a solid 2 hours there.” 

        More of it came back to Tessa – the struggle, the bong, Janie and her sharing hit after hit.  She tried to sit up but found herself incredibly weak.  As she sluggishly shifted Carlos crossed the room and put a hand on her chest, easily holding her in place. 

        “Let me go, you sicko!” she spat out. 

        “It's easy to get a girl baked,” said Carlos, as if he hadn't heard her, “but how quickly can I make her love the stuff?  Lets see if we can do it in one day, shall we?  That'd be pretty impressive.  I think the secret will be little sobriety breaks instead of keeping you stoned all day.” 

        As Tessa listened to him a look of shock dawned on her face.  Was he serious?  Did he really want to turn her into a, a what? A pothead? Was that even possible? 

        “Well, time to smoke again, wouldn't you say?” asked Carlos. 

        “Let me go right now!” shouted Tessa, “You can't keep me here!” 

        Carlos grabbed a washcloth off the bedside table, and tied it around Tessa's mouth.  She continued to shout angrily into the gag, trying to muster the strength to get off the bed. 

        “How about Janie does the honors,” said Carlos, “since you two are hopefully going to be fast friends. JANIE!” 

        After a few moments Janie tottered into the room, her eyes glassy.  Carlos had let Tessa sober up thanks to some fast acting pills Professor Frankle had provided, but Janie had kept to her usual routine of uninterrupted smoking. 

        “Heeyyy derr,” she slurred. 

        “Janie, our new friend doesn't seem to be having much fun,” said Carlos, handing her the gas mask, “why don't you help her set the mood?” 

        Janie smiled and nodded.  She loved smoking up other girls almost as much as she loved smoking.  She just wanted to share this wonderful gift of being stoned.  She stumbled toward the bed, extending the gas mask toward Tessa.  Tessa began to shout through her gag, mmphing and yelping, thrashing her head back and forth so that Janie couldn't press it against her lips. 

        “I dunn think shee wanna smooke,” said Janie, although for the life of her she couldn't imagine why. 

        Carlos took a bottle of Lullaby Lotion from the bedside table and smeared a dollop on Tessa's thigh.  Tessa wasn't sure what was going on, but suddenly a warm wave of relaxation spread through her.  She knew she wanted to struggle, should struggle, but it was just so much effort. In just a few seconds Tessa's yelps turned to moans, her thrashing to slow gyrations.   

        “See?” said Carlos, “she wants to smoke.” 

        Janie happily pressed the mask to Tessa's lips, and this time Tessa didn't try to move away.  The warm, lulling smoke flooded her lungs.  Tessa stared up at Janie's smiling face as the cobwebs and clouds rolled back over her mind.  A tiny part of Tessa's brain sighed with relief.  It just felt so good. 

        After a few seconds Janie raised the mask to her own lips, alternating breaths with Tessa.  Back and forth, back and forth, no struggle, just smoke.  Then Carlos took the mask away from her, knowing that if left to her own devices she'd gas them both to unconsciousness.  He helped Tessa sit up.  Janie sat beside her.  He handed them the bong and they got to 

work.

PART TWENTY ONE: COAXED AND FORCED (PART C) 

        “I mean, I meean it feeels a litt'le good,” said Pauline, “but thas no reeason, liike I only schmooked to, you knoow.” 

        Erin smiled.  It was all easy from here.  To be honest it was easy since that first puff.  Like rolling a boulder downhill.  Royal O did all the heavy lifting.   

        “But you feel good right now, right?  I mean you feel good from teaching us a valuable lesson, and you feel good from the smoke.” 

        “Maaybe, maybee soome.” 

        “Just admit it,” said Erin, “Admit you like smoking.” 

        “Nooo,” slurred Pauline, “Once I leaave, once I leeave dat door I'll never schmooke again.” 

        But that might be a little while, thought Erin.  That third hit was really getting to Pauline.  Erin could see it in her limp arms and legs, her very bloodshot eyes, and the way she kept eying the joint.  Time for a fourth. 

        “Oh, of course,” said Erin, “but while you're here, since you're already having fun, why not finish the joint?” 

        “Whhaaa?” 

        “What harm could it do?  You're already high.  And you feel good.  I bet you'd feel even better with another puff or two.” 

        “I caaaan't.  No, weeed is....issa drugg....and Emmily....” 

        “I absolutely, positively promise I'll never tell Emily.  It's just between you and me.” 

        “Yoou proomise?” 

        “I promise.” 

*** 

        Tessa was lying on her stomach on the bed.  She wasn't bound, but she felt too weak, too tired to move.  The hazy vision of the last smoke session hung in her mind, even foggier than the one before.  Tessa could still taste the weed on her lips, smell it in the air.  She wasn't sure she disliked either. 

        Out of the corner of her eye she saw Carlos sit beside her on the bed.  She heard the hiss of the mask before she saw it. 

        “Plleease, noo more smoke,” she said softly, but didn't even believe her own words. 

        “You want to smoke?” asked Carlos. 

        “Nooo smoke,” she said again, trying to ignore the part of her brain that was growing excited from just the faint smell. 

        “Smoke?” asked Carlos, “This smoke?” 

        He gently pressed the mask against her lips.  She raised her hand to try and pull it away, but he easily brushed it off.  She felt the warm smoke drift down into her lungs. 

        “Buttt,” she said through the mask, “itss gonna maake me feeel...feeeel,” 

        “How does it make you feel?” 

        “Feeeeel.....” 

        “Feel good?  Does it make you feel good?” 

        “Feeeeee.....” 

        “Yeah, it makes you feel good?  Good, right?” 

        “Gooooood......gooood.” 

        Tessa lowered her hand back to her side.  Her eyes crossed and uncrossed.  That feeling of blissful confusion returned.  After a moment Carlos removed the mask, and a slack-jawed glassy-eyed Tessa got three breaths of unspoiled air before the mask was replaced by the bong.  Everything was blurry, but she waited for that telltale flick of the lighter.  When she heard it she started happily inhaling. 

*** 

        “Nooo, weedss bad,” slurred Pauline. 

        “If it's so bad then how come you're one puff away from finishing your joint?  Do you want to not finish?” 

        Pauline looked at the remnants of the joint smoldering between her fingers.  She had never held one before but yet it felt so comfortable.  And the tip seemed to be calling out for her lips. 

        “Itt'd bee a wasste,” she said, bringing it to her mouth and finishing it with a final puff. 

        “I'm envious. You must be feeling so good,” said Erin. 

        “I dddooo,” blushed Pauline, drifting in a lovely haze. 

        “But how can weed be bad if you feel so good?” 

        Pauline didn't know how to answer.  She certainly did feel good.  Relaxed, stupid, pleased.  She wasn't sure how this girl she just met had convinced her to get this way, but she wasn't altogether unhappy.  In fact, she was very happy.  Happier than she had been in a long time.  A wide smile broke across her lips. 

        “Maybe you shouldn't be so hard on Emily.  Is it fair for you to hog this good feeling all to yourself?” 

        “I....I dunno....noooo?.....yeshhhh?” 

        “Do you mind if I give you a present?” 

        “I luuve preseents,” said Pauline. 

        Erin took two joints from her back pocket and dropped them into Pauline's purse.   

        “Just in case you want to feel this good later.” 

        “Noooo,” said Pauline, “thiiss is sa one tiime, you knowww.” 

        “I know. But just in case.” 

        “Jussssin caase,” she parroted with a giggle. 

        “You can throw them out if you want.  Or maybe, on a night when you're feeling particularly stressed or bored, you can smoke one.” 

        “Or maayyybe......mayybe I caaann smooke one now?” 

        Erin knew she wouldn't have any more trouble with Mrs. Hearns. 

*** 

        Tessa never had a chance.  Again and again Carlos and Janie would smoke her up, then give her a pill to sober her up just as fast, and then repeat the process.  Even though it had only been a few hours ago, Tessa's memories of her more energetic struggles seemed ancient history.  She remembered bolting for the door and Carlos catching her with the mask.  She remembered trying to crawl away and that smooth lotion spreading across her back.  She remembered trying to climb out the bathroom window, and making it halfway out before Carlos was on her.  Since then he had made sure to smoke her up before any bathroom breaks. 

        And more recently she remembered barely fighting at all.  Opening her lungs to Janie's offerings.  Letting that warm, sweet, heavenly sensation envelop her.  The flick of the lighter, the spark of the nugget, that thin tendril of smoke.  It was almost like a habit now, a ritual.   

        Carlos ran her a bath, saying she was quite sweaty from a day of so much work.  For the first time Tessa removed all her clothes and slipped into the sudsy tub.  A few minutes later Carlos entered, a lit joint between his fingers.  He extended the tip toward Tessa and she closed her lips around it, taking long, slow tokes.  What else was there to do?  She knew she couldn't win. 

        But there was something liberating about knowing she couldn't win.  It almost put her mind at ease.  She didn't have to worry about it, didn't have to freak out, since she knew she couldn't beat the gas, the lotion, the bongs and joints.  And in accepting that she couldn't win, in no longer struggling, she was able to realize that she didn't really want to win.  She didn't want to break free.  She didn't want to collect donations for Big Sisters.  She didn't want to think or concentrate or worry or feel sad.  In fact she only wanted one thing.  She wanted to smoke. 

PART TWENTY TWO: THE INVITATION 

        For two weeks there was an equilibrium at St. Mary's College.   

        Erin kept selling Royal O girls on campus.  She noticed a few new buyers, mostly referrals from other fans.  The majority of her customers just paid and left.  A few smoked with her and then became more interested in other things.   

        Stephanie visited often and when she did Erin promised to herself that she wouldn't just smoke and fuck Stephanie, and then almost as frequently broke her promise.  Erin knew firsthand how dangerously potent Royal O could be, and yet still couldn't keep herself from an exception every few days.  And whatever activity she did – a quick jog, a sale, a trip to harvest more weed – there was always that tingling thought in the back of her head that this would be more fun stoned. 

        Professor Frankle ran tests at his own house, constantly amazed at Royal RHC46's intesified chemical properties.  His wife meanwhile took a sabbatical from work and now drifted around the house in a dreamy stupor, happily testing any of Frankle's new experiments. 

        Dawn and her fellow Tri-Delts took to Carlos's suggestion like fish to water, turning their house into a campus brothel of sorts where any boys with enough cash on hand could have a lovely evening with some red-eyed, giggly, easily seduced sorority sisters.  Carlos received a 20% cut and the girls kept the rest. Erin heard about all the sex and smoking going on at the sorority house, but had no idea it had become a business. 

        Thanks to various referrals of his own, Carlos found he didn't have to put much effort into finding new customers.  His competitively priced Royal O and diverse selection of other wares brought in plenty of curious coeds.  He also helped “introduce” a Mormon woman who came selling magazine subscriptions and later a local babysitter to the wonders of Royal O – by the next morning they were glad for the introduction. 

        And Janie, poor Janie, she smoked more and more.  She woke up just as often in Erin, Carlos, or her own bedroom, and nearly every time the routine was the same: hit after hit from a packed bowl on the bedside until she was a slurring, stumbling, baked mess.  Then she lounged around until she sobered up enough to decide to smoke more, or pop a pill, or rub on some impossibly relaxing lotion, or breathe from Carlos's mask until she forgot where she was. 

        The whole campus was full of dozens of girls getting wasted, the scent of weed wafting from car windows and under doorways, classrooms packed with ladies hiding red eyes behind sunglasses. But everything must come to an end.  And for Erin that end began with an invitation.  Stephanie handed it to Erin – she said it had been slid under the door – and Erin stared at its glossy cover. 

        “Dawn Mercer Presents – The Annual Tri-Delt Bash!  You are cordially invited to attend this Saturday from 9pm to 1am.  This year's theme – We're All Royalty!” 

        Erin couldn't help but blush.  Even though Dawn (and her sisters) were now total potheads and huge fans of Erin, and even though the party was clearly Royal O themed, there was still something exciting about being invited to a Dawn Mercer party.  Even though they had been drug and drink free, for years the Tri-Delts had hosted the most exclusive parties on campus, and a part of Erin's brain had secretly dreamed of being invited.  She always told herself she didn't care, but she did. 

        “So you going to go? I got an invitation too!” said Stephanie. 

        “I dunno,” said Erin, trying to hide her feelings, “it's not really my scene.” 

        “Oh come on, it's going to be like totally amazing.  I bet you're like the freaking guest of honor too.  You have to!” 

        “You think so? Guest of honor?  Well I guess the party does seem to be about Royal O.” 

        “It does?” asked Stephanie. 

        “Yeah, the theme is Royalty.  What do you think that means?” 

        “Ohhhh.  Geez, Erin, you're so smart.” 

        “It's not that complicated.  Maybe if you smoked less,” said Erin playfully. 

        “You want me to smoke less?” 

        “No, of course not,” said Erin. 

        “You want me to smoke more?” asked Stephanie with a smile. 

        “Maybe,” said Erin. 

        “You want me to smoke now?” asked Stephanie, picking up a joint from the coffee table, but she didn't have to wait for an answer. 

        *** 

        At 9:30 PM that Saturday Stephanie and Erin stood outside of the Tri-Delt sorority house.  Black trash bags were taped over all the windows, but Erin could still hear the low bass of music from inside.  A few people trickled in, not many.  After all, this was a Tri-Delt party, not a campus rager – exclusivity was the name of the game. 

        Erin had acted blasé the whole walk over with Stephanie, but Stephanie had noticed that Erin was more made up than Stephanie had ever seen her.  She was actually in a dress – a cute yellow sundress with jangly earrings.  And was that makeup?  Stephanie giggled.  Mostly from Erin's getup, but also from the puff she had taken before heading over.  Erin had taken one herself and both girls were feeling nicely lifted. 

        “Are we just going to stand out here all night?” asked Stephanie. 

        Erin playfully shoved Stephanie and headed in through the front door. 

        Of course what Erin could never have known was the long trip her invitation took before it arrived in her hands.  Before her there was Stephanie picking it up off the floor.  And before Stephanie there was the sorority sister who delivered it.  And before her was Dawn who had planned out the entire bacchanal and handed out the invitation bundles.  And before Dawn was Carlos whispering in Dawn's ear how much fun it would be to throw a weed themed party. 

        “After all, why are we always smoking in secret?” he had said, “why not a whole house full of ladies, and some boys, smoking and touching and having fun?” 

        “Thasss a greeaatt, hehe, greeaat ideaaa,” Dawn had slurred as she exhaled another bong hit. 

        “And don't forget to invite Erin,” Carlos added with a grin. 

        So in a cute little dress with a smile on her face Erin thought she was entering a party, when what she was really entering was the end of her life as she knew it.

PART TWENTY THREE: THE PARTY 

        Erin and Stephanie stepped into the Tri-Delt foyer and found themselves face to face with a beaming sorority sister leaning against a large, multicolored wheel that resembled a Price Is Right reject.  Beside the wheel a handwritten sign read “You must be this stoned to ride” with a large drawing of a droopy-eyed, grinning cartoon girl. 

        “No sobriety beyond this point,” squeaked the sorority sister jerking a thumb at the wheel. 

        

        Erin gave the wheel a second glance and  noticed each of its colored slivers had a different label.  A Single Puff.  A Free Joint.  Too Stoned To Function.  Baked and Fucked.  Blazed Blowjob. A Few Gassy Breaths.  Lotion Up.  Take A Chill Pill.  And several more – Erin wasn't even sure what half of them meant. 

        “Do I really have to....” Erin trailed off. 

        “Rules are rules,” said the sister. 

        “Come on, Erin, it'll be fun,” said Stephanie. 

        Erin shrugged and spun the wheel.  Its spinner clicked loudly as it rotated in a blur of color before growing slower and slower.  Erin watched it slide by Too Stoned To Function and Blazed Blowjob before landing on A Free Joint.  That didn't seem so bad. 

        “You got off easy,” said the sister, lighting a tightly rolled joint and handing it to Erin, “feel free to smoke this at your own leisure throughout the party.  You may now enter.” 

        “Yay, my turn!” giggled Stephanie. 

        Stephanie spun the wheel and eagerly watched it turn.  The spinner thumbed through color after color, losing speed until it finally came to a stop on Baked and Fucked.  The sorority sister loudly called out “Baked and fucked!” and a side door Erin hadn't noticed swung open.  A handsome young man stepped out holding a portable vaporizer attached to a gas mask. He wordlessly extended it toward Stephanie. 

        “And once I'm baked are you the one I have to fuck?” she asked with a giggle. 

        He nodded. 

        “Fine by me,” she said, strapping the gas mask to her face. 

        He began to guide Stephanie through the side door, unbuttoning her top and belt as he walked. 

        “Wait, what's going on?” asked Erin. 

        “She's getting baked and fucked before she gets to enter the party,” said the sorority sister, “but you're free to enter.” 

        “Stephanie, are you ok?” asked Erin. 

        “Rules are rules,” said Stephanie through the mask as she was pushed toward the side door,  “you go ahead and I'll catch up witth yoou, wittht yoou,  hehe, whoaa thiss.....this.... worksss fassst....hehe....” 

        Erin watched as Stephanie was pulled through the door, her body suddenly sagging as the Royal O hit her.  Her eyes crossed and a dopey smile spread across her lips.  The boy kept removing her clothes as she stared off into space. 

        “Is she going to be alright?” asked Erin. 

        “She'll be fine,” said the boy, speaking for the first time, “although maybe a little sore.  I'm sure you'll see her later.” 

        Stephanie gave a little wasted wave as the door closed.  Erin stood in the foyer in stunned silence.  The sorority sister gestured toward the main doors.  Erin regained herself and, with nothing else to do, went through them. 

        “Something tells me this is not what Tri-Delt parties used to be like,” she said to herself. 

        She walked down a long hallway before emerging in the sorority house's grand room.  And looking around, she realized the foyer was just the tip of the iceberg.  A few dozen coeds were spread across the room, some men but mostly women, all engaged in behavior that would have previously been considered very, very unbecoming of Tri-Deltas. 

        Some danced to the thumping music while passing joints back and forth.  Some sat on couches or the floor smoking blunts and bongs.  And those were the relatively innocent ones.  Erin could see girls and boys opening fucking on the dance floor, girls sucking dick in the corner, naked college kids rubbing up against each other.  The air was thick with smoke and everyone looked wasted.  After a full minute spent gawking Erin remembered the burning joint in her hand. 

        “If you can't beat 'em join 'em” she said aloud and took a puff. 

        *** 

        The next hour (two? three?) passed in a bit of a haze.  Erin remembered taking a few more puffs of her joint before she shared it with some dancing girls who seemed to know her name.  She remembered dancing, laughing, kissing some girls and even a few boys.  She remembered the Royal O soaking into her blood and brain, removing her inhibitions and worries.  At one point she caught a glance at herself in the mirror and had to smile at the cute, red-eyed innocently dressed girl staring back at her. 

        “Dere yoou are!” said Janie, wrapping her arms around Erin from behind, “Imma soo glaad you maade itt.” 

        “Heey.....hey, Janiie!” Erin slurred back, turning around to give Janie another hug. 

        “Youu....youu're noot fucked up enuff,” giggled Janie, “you neeed soome Lulla, Lulla....Lullabye Lotion.” 

        Janie took a small bottle from her pocket and squirted a dollop of lotion on Erin's skin.  Erin stared as Janie began to rub it in gently.  Erin could feel her stoned sensation increasing, a warm wave of relaxation spreading from the point of contact.  In her foggy brain she realized something was strange.  How was this lotion making her more stoned?  Did it have Royal O in it? But she was the only one on campus with access to Royal O.  Or was she?   

        But as the feeling spread she felt too relaxed to care.  It was a mystery she'd solve later.  Tomorrow, yeah, tomorrow would be good.  Tonight was about feeling good.  Tomorrow she'd figure out what this lotion was – right now she'd just enjoy it.  Janie spread a dollop on her own skin, her eyes going glassy and a slight moan escaping her lips as it kicked in, and then gave Erin one more squirt for good measure.  By the time she was done both girls were floating on air. 

        They drifted – or felt like drifted but more likely stumbled – up the stairs, Janie dopily showing off different rooms of the party.  There was a hotbox room, a room with girls sexily dancing for a circle of boys while taking drags off joints, a full on orgy going on in another.  Erin took it all in without batting an eye.  She was feeling too good, too sedate, for any of this to seem at all unusual. 

        In the orgy room, however, she did pause when she noticed one familiar face.  Stephanie was on all fours, right in the middle of the room, sucking off one guy while getting fucked from behind by another.  Erin stared hypnotized as Stephanie came, moaning and gagging and trembling with pleasure. 

        “Stefff,” Erin said, approaching Stephanie and touching her shoulder, “how dddid you....how loong have you....you haavvinn' fun?” 

        But when Stephanie looked up at Erin, Erin could see she was blazed out of her mind, considerably more far gone than even Janie or Erin.  Her eyes were slits and her mouth was slack.  That “Baked and Fucked” wheel was not fooling around, though Erin.  Stephanie mindlessly grinned at Erin for a moment before lowering her mouth onto another dick. 

        Erin and Janie tottered back out of the room and ran right into Dawn, looking just a little less baked than the two girls. 

        “Theere yoou two...are!” she exclaimed, “Jannie....you we'ree....supposhed to fiind Erin and bring...briing her too the basement!” 

        “Ooops,” laughed Janie, making a guilty face, “I guess I fooorgot....hehe...but weee can goo now!” 

        “Great!” said Dawn, “mmm, but firrss maybee a wittle gass....hehe......” 

        Dawn took an aerosol mask of Carlos's magic gas and pressed it to Janie's lips.  Janie happily inhaled, letting the gas cloud her mind.  She dreamily sighed with pleasure as Dawn drew it away and pressed it to Erin's lips next. 

        Again Erin felt a little confused.  What was this?  Was this yet another form of Royal O? Where was it coming from?  How was it possible?  But as she sluggishly pondered these thoughts she also sucked in the gas, and just as the lotion's relaxing effects had stopped her from caring, the gas quickly helped her forget her questions. 

        In just a few seconds she couldn't remember what she had been thinking a moment ago.  She felt so wonderfully stoned, so relaxed and forgetful and happy and carefree.  The air was warm and soft, and every touch electric.  She was sure whatever she had worried about earlier would be fine – she'd remember it later and figure it all out.  Right now she needed all of her concentration to walk after Dawn, who was leading the two of them back down the stair.  Erin sagged against the banister, barely able to keep upright. 

        “Whhhere weee, wheere we gooin?” she managed to stammer. 

        “Surrprrise,” said Dawn, “sommeone wants to see, to seee you.” 

        Erin smiled.  Who could it be? She liked surprises.

PART TWENTY FOUR: THE TRAP 

        The basement was empty – just a carpeted room full of pillows and stacked board games.  Dawn slurred something about Erin's mystery visitor arriving shortly, and that they should entertain themselves until then.  Which wasn't very difficult.  The three girls sparked a joint and sunk even deeper into their dreamy stupor.  They exhaled hits into each others mouths, and those exhales quickly became kisses.  Janie passed around some mystery pills and Erin, too fucked up to care where they came from, popped one down the hatch.  It wasn't long before caresses joined the kisses.  Somehow Erin's dress, along with Janie and Dawn's clothing, ended up in a pile on the floor.   

        There was a sound on the stairs, but it was just Stephanie, naked and totally stoned, looking for her friends.  She happily joined in on the fun.  Erin found the whole experience wonderful – just her and her three best friends getting stoned and naked and feeling good.  With her head buried between Stephanie's legs and Janie's tongue behind her lapping at her clit, Erin wondered why things couldn't be like this forever. 

        “Having fun, ladies?” came a voice from the stairs. 

        “Deer you arre!” exclaimed Dawn, “wee fouund Errin juss like you ass'ed.” 

        Erin pulled her head out and looked up at the handsome, familiar stranger before her.  Who was that?  How did she know him? Oh my god, she thought, that's Carlos.  Carlos the dealer.  But she hadn't seen him in months.  What was he doing here?  What was going on? 

        “Sorry I'm late,” he said, approaching Erin, “I honestly thought it would take longer to coax you down here.  For some strange reason I thought you'd be more of a challenge.  But yet here you are, baked and isolated, ripe for the picking.” 

        Erin tried to get up but slipped back to her knees.  Her vision was tunneling in the most wonderful way.  She giggled, but wasn't sure what she found so funny.  This seemed serious, but it was so hard to care. 

        “After all, this whole party is for you,” Carlos continued, enjoying his view of the naked, red-eyed girls staring up at him, “you really are the guest of honor.  I convinced Dawn to throw the whole shebang just to get you here without suspicion.  The ladies were all very happy to help.” 

        Carlos took three fat joints from his pocket and handed one each to Janie, Dawn, and Stephanie.  He lit them and the girls began to toke merrily.  They didn't seem at all alarmed to see Carlos – it was like they knew him.  Erin realized all three must have met him before.  But how? When? 

        “None for you, sorry,” said Carlos to Erin, “They can smoke their brains away, but I want you to be at least a little aware of what's happening.  You tried to undercut me, tried to steal my business and make your own little drug empire.  And now you're going to pay the price.” 

        “Whaaa, whada,” Erin tried to speak but it was so difficult.  She shook her head to clear the cobwebs and tried again, “Whad're you gooin to doo?” 

        “I'm going to make sure that you love your product as much as your customers.  I think it's time you became as carefree as Dawn, as airheaded as Stephanie, as eager to please as Janie.  You've done a good job building up this operation, but now it's under new management.” 

        Janie, Dawn, and Stephanie watched in silence, apparently oblivious to the consequences of Carlos's statements.  Janie liked what she heard – she loved Royal O and was excited that Erin was going to be her smoke buddy.  Dawn wasn't really sure what Carlos was talking about, but he was so handsome and nice, she was sure it was alright.  And Stephanie was too baked for his words to even register.  The three continued to puff, the room growing smokier and their eyes heavier. 

        Erin for her part was slowly starting to realize the situation she was in.  She had to get out of here, had to escape or talk her way out or something.  But god her brain just wasn't working.  Her body was so relaxed, her mind so at ease.  She could barely keep herself from smiling. 

        “I'm going to get a few supplies from my car to make sure nobody bothers us, and then maybe we can spent a few hours down here, maybe more, becoming best friends.  Would you like that?  While I'm gone feel free to try to leave.” 

        Carlos turned to leave, but then turned back and planted a kiss on Erin's lips.  Erin stared up at him groggily. 

        “God, you are sexy when stoned,” he said, “I can't wait to see more of that.” 

        And with that Carlos bounded up the stairs and out of the room.  Erin saw that now was her chance, her chance to escape.  But she also saw that it wasn't going to happen.  Her body felt so heavy, she could barely lift her arms.  And all those stairs – so much effort.  All she really wanted to do was smoke with her friends, these girls sitting around her nursing their personal joints.  That'd be great.  Just smoke. 

        Erin finally understood how clever Carlos's plan was.  With the party raging upstairs nobody would hear or suspect a thing for hours and hours.  And surrounded by her friends, all stoned and naked, he knew it was unlikely Erin would be able to muster the willpower to drag herself out of there. 

        But she'd do it, she'd escape, she'd beat him!  She wasn't going to end up a brainless stoner, no matter how nice that sounded.  She was going to get up, walk up those stairs, and run from the party.  Any second now.  Soon.  Very soon.  In just a second.  Maybe just one more moment of sitting here.  One more moment of breathing in the smoky air, savoring the exhaled smoke of Dawn, Janie, and Stephanie.  Just breathe.  In and out.  No more to smoke, no, no more.  But maybe just sniff the air a little longer.  And stare at Stephanie with her sexy, glassy eyes.  And watch Janie's lips curl around the joint.  Just a little more. 

        Carlos whistled to himself as he wove through the chaotic party and out the backdoor.  He had not expected Erin to be such an easy catch or else he would've been more prepared.  He had assumed it would be at least a few more hours before she ended up wasted in the basement. Oh well, no harm no foul.  Just grab some gas, some lotion, some pills, a baggie of Royal O, and then back down there.  It wasn't like she was going anywhere. 

        Carlos approached his car and opened the door, gathering up his supplies.  A strange odor drifted into his nose.  What was that?  It smelled like raw weed.  Why did his car reek of weed?  He noticed a blanket on the backseat.  He didn't remember putting that there.  He lifted it and a wave of weed smell hit him.  Under the blanket were pounds of weed.  Hundreds of pounds.  All wrapped in plastic and neatly stacked.  It filled the entire seat. 

        “What the fuck?” Carlos said to himself. 

        Sirens.  Blue and red flashing lights.  Shouts and spotlights.  A half dozen cop cars squealed to a stop on all sides of Carlos's car.  Carlos turned to run but they were all over him, hands at his wrist, guns pointed as his head.  Cops were shouting at him, but he couldn't hear a word they were saying.  His head was slammed down on the hood of his car, his hands twisted behind his back and cuffed. 

        “What the fuck!!” he shouted. 

        The doors to the Tri-Delt sorority flew open and kids poured out.  Half-naked, fully naked, stoned, drunk, sober – it didn't matter.  They ran from the woods, for their cars, for their dorms.  “Cops!” they shouted to one another, the word traveling instantly through every room of the party.  In minutes the party was over, the sorority house empty, the cops staring in shock as dozens of kids fled the scene. 

        “Who fucked me?” screamed Carlos, “Who did it?” as he was herded into the back of a squad car.  A cop surveyed the pounds of illegal drugs in his backseat and whistled – this guy would be going away for a long time. 

        Of course the sorority house wasn't totally empty.  Down in the basement four girls still sat oblivious to the commotion above.  Three were too stoned to have heard or understood any of it.  The fourth was not quite as high, but still glued to the spot, telling herself over and over than any minute now she'd make a run for the stairs as soon as the sensation of blissful confusion wore off. 

        For a few minutes there was no noise at all, and then the only sound was a pair of feet shuffling down the basement stairs, past Janie and Dawn and Stephanie, coming to a stop in front of Erin.  Erin slowly lifted her eyes and smiled at the kindly old man who stood before her. 

        “Heyyy, Professurr,” she said with a giggle. 

        “Hi, Erin,” said Professor Frankle.

PART TWENTY FIVE: ERIN'S DECISION 

        “I'm sorry about Carlos,” said Professor Frankle, taking a seat opposite Erin, “While in many ways a valuable partner, he was a bit unsavory for my taste.  But you don't need to worry about him – I doubt we'll be seeing him again anytime soon.” 

        “Thaann, thannnk youu...?” slurred Erin, unsure of how to respond. 

        “Although I will admit he taught me some important lessons about the....profit potential of RHC46.  It may yet result in countless medical breakthroughs, but in the short term it can help supplement my research through, um, lets say recreational sales.  Would you girls like to hear my plans?” 

        Frankle paused dramatically, not really expecting any of the baked girls to respond.  Erin and Dawn stared at him through lidded eyes.  Stephanie and Janie just stared off into space. 

        “My family owns a bit of isolated farmland in Wisconsin.  I've decided I'll take an indefinite sabbatical from work, move up there, and start a considerably more ambitious grow operation than what we have here.  That way I can continue my research uninterrupted while selling RHC46 through various campus dealers to fund my operation.” 

        “But I've seen how potent your so called Royal O can be,” he continued, “so I'll be sure to keep my on campus supply low, a constant trickle if you will, enough to have plenty of customers but not so much to turn dozens of girls into marijuana addicts.  No offense.” 

        “Nooone taka...hehe...takeeen,” said Dawn before bursting into a fit of giggles. 

        “You're probably wondering where you fit into all of this.  Well to be honest I'm afraid Carlos's plans for you and my plans for you aren't terribly different, although hopefully mine will be a little more voluntary, a little more agreeable.  I need someone to help me run the farm and, just as importantly, to keep me...company.  I think you four would be a perfect match.” 

        Frankle rose and reached into his jacket pocket.  He removed a long, thin joint and a small vial.  Opening the vial, he spread a few drops of brown liquid along the length of the joint.  Then he put the vial back in his pocket and withdrew a lighter. 

        “This is an ultra purified RHC46 tincture I made a few days ago.  It's far, far too strong to be something I'd recommend you girls smoke regularly – a single puff will likely put all four of you out of commission – but in this situation I think it might work nicely.” 

        Frankle leaned in close to Erin, practically whispering in her ear. 

        “What do you say?  Do you want to shoulder through another year of school, then try to find a job or a boyfriend or a girlfriend or an internship or a grad school that'll take you?  Do you want that dull, exhausting life?  Or do you want to come live on the farm with me, where you can stay stoned all day every day, where you can smoke and fuck to your heart's content, where you never have to worry about a thing?” 

        Frankle moved away from Erin and approached Stephanie.  He lit the laced joint and extended it toward her.  Stephanie reached out with clumsy fingers, took it, and stared up at Frankle.  A thin trickle of smoke wafted from its tip.  Stephanie thought it smelled wonderful. 

        “It's simple,” he said, talking to all four girls but looking directly at Erin, “If you want to join me, take a puff.  Just one.  In a few seconds you'll be so wasted you might as well be unconscious, and with any luck when you come to you'll already be on the farm.  If you're not interested in my offer, don't take a puff.  Easy.” 

        Erin knew what Stephanie, Dawn, and Janie would do.  They were hooked on Royal O, in love with being so stoned, eager to smoke all the time.  She wanted to tell them not to take the puff, not to give in, but who was she to stop them from doing something so pleasurable?  And so she just watched as Stephanie brought the joint to her lips and hesitantly took a toke. 

          “That's a good girl,” said Professor Frankle, taking the joint back. 

        He then walked to Dawn and handed her the joint.  She smiled up and him and took a toke as well.  Then he walked to Janie, who happily sucked down a puff.  She went to take a second but Frankle snatched it away from her. 

        “Just one, my dear.  Trust me,” he said. 

        He moved back to Erin and sat down beside her. 

        “Now watch the magic,” he said with a smile. 

        It hit Stephanie first.  A wave of indescribable pleasure and sedation.  It was like the entire ocean wrapped around her, only it was warm and weightless all at once.  Her vision tunneled, the traffic of her thoughts slowed to a crawl.  Within seconds her eyes fluttered and crossed, her arms fell limp to her side, and her head – a dopey grin plastered across it – sunk down onto her chest. 

        A few seconds later Dawn gasped lightly, and then moaned as the tingling spread throughout her body.  She slid off her pillow and flopped backwards onto the floor.  A line of drool dripped from her lips.  Janie for some reason tried to stand up as it kicked in, and she ended up toppling forward, landing on a pile of pillows with a heavy sigh.  She rolled over and opened her mouth to say something, but there was nothing there, just as there was nothing going on in her brain.  All three girls had red, glassy slits for eyes and looks of pure bliss on their faces. 

        “Looks nice,” said Frankle, “so do you think you want to join them?  Deep down isn't that what you've always wanted?” 

        When Janie and Stephanie became stoners, it had been a gradual, albeit unstoppable, process.  And Dawn's fate might have been sealed when she was locked in the Druc Lab closet, but it had still taken days for it to come to fruition.  Not for Erin.  In that moment, staring at the smoldering joint before her and her deeply wasted friends around her, Erin made a decision.  Frankle was right: this was what she wanted. 

        She was stoned, but not so stoned that she couldn't make this decision, a decision to stay like this indefinitely.   She had been fighting it for months, but why fight it?  She wasn't happiest when selling weed, when doing homework, or even when running her campus empire.  She was happiest when she was high, preferably naked with another naked, equally high lady.  It turned her on to watch her friends smoke, just as it turned her on to smoke herself.  Dealing with Carlos and other dealers, almost being caught by Dawn, almost losing Janie as a friend – it wasn't worth it. 

        On Frankle's farm she could leave all that behind.  Sure she'd probably have to fuck the guy, but he wasn't so bad, and she'd also get to fuck Dawn and Janie and Stephanie.  She might have to help grow and package weed, but she could smoke all day long.  Just thinking about that, days full of nothing but the sweet smell of Royal O, got her excited. 

        She looked at Stephanie and Janie and Dawn sprawled out around her.  She wanted to feel like that.  She wanted to feel just like that right now and all the time.  She leaned forward and closed her lips around Frankle's joint.  She inhaled, watching the tip flare red, tasting the smoke fill her lungs.  She held it for a moment and then exhaled gently. 

        “You made the right choice,” said Frankle, “we're going to have a lot of fun.” 

        But Erin didn't hear him.  She didn't hear anything.  Or see or smell anything.  And most of all she didn't think anything.  All she could do was feel.  And all she could feel was pure, unadulterated bliss.  It was like smoking three bowls of Royal O all at once.  An immense, lovely cloud drifted over her brain.  Her arms and legs went limp.  Her head went limp.  Her eyes slid shut, her mouth slid open.  Her body slouched forward onto Frankle.  Mustering all the energy she had left, before the blissful sensation whisked away her ability to do even that, she smiled.

PART TWENTY SIX - EPILOGUE - THE FARM 

Six months later... 

        Erin opened her eyes.  She groggily sat up and looked at the clock on her bedside table.  It flashed 11:00 AM.  She had slept in again.  But who cared.  This wasn't school; she could keep whatever schedule she wanted.  Next to the clock was a much more welcoming sight: a packed bowl and a messily scribbled note.  “Wake up sleepyhead!” it read, “When you're properly lifted we're outside 'working'. -Steph” 

        Erin lifted the small piece to her lips and took a hit.  Then another after it.  The Royal O hit her just as strongly as it had the first time she had ever tried it, and in only a few minutes she was stoned, drifting in a pleasant haze.  Stoned like she had been last night before she went to bed.  And the day before that.  And the day before that. 

        “Diss is thaa good liife,” she giggled to no one in particular. 

        After another hit she tottered down the hall, steadying herself against the wall.  She exited through the screen door and immediately shielded her red, squinty eyes from the bright summer sun.  As her eyes slowly adjusted to the light her heart skipped a beat – the sight of row after row of Royal O plant never ceased to excite her. 

        “Hey deeerr,” came a familiar voice, and Erin turned to see Stephanie stumble over to her. 

        Stephanie looked as high as Erin, smiling behind lidded eyes, and without hesitation she planted a long, wet kiss on Erin's lips.  As they kissed Dawn walked passed, apparently oblivious to their makeout session.  Instead she made a beeline for the first Royal O plant, pinching off a thick nug and starting to crumble it into a rolling paper.  Behind Erin the screen door slammed.  Erin and Stephanie broke apart to look. 

        “Mooorrrnnin,” slurred Janie, looking considerably more wasted than the other three, and also considerably more naked. 

        “Jannie!” exclaimed Stephanie, “yoou furggot yur cloothes again!” 

        Janie looked down and, realizing she was naked, burst into a fit of giggles.  The other girls couldn't help but join in.  After all, this was nothing out of the ordinary, and there was no one to worry about offending for miles and miles. Just the four girls living in their small side cottage, and Frankle and his wife in the farmhouse next door. 

        The girls had learned pretty quickly that it wasn't very hard to harvest enough weed to satisfy Frankle's customers.  And as long as they got that done at some point, which they always managed to do, he didn't mind however they wanted to spent the rest of their day.  If anything he was pleased with how eager they were to fill their hours testing out his newest experiments. 

        There was his new and improved Lullaby Lotion.  Stephanie liked to spread a layer on her lips like lipstick and then eat out Erin, both sinking in a lovely haze as Erin's moans grew softer and Stephanie licks slower.  They played a little game, seeing if Stephanie could make Erin come before they passed out. 

        Speaking of games, the girls had made a rule that anyone was allowed to “gas” anyone else at any time.  At least once a week Janie or Dawn would creep up behind Erin (or vice versa) and quickly press the mask to her lips.  Erin would barely have time to squeal in surprise and delight before the fog seeped into her brain, replacing her thoughts and memories with pure, bewildered contention.  Then her eyes would get all glassy and confused in the sexiest way, and the girls would have their way with her. 

        And how could Erin forget the Hotbox Room!  At Janie's request Frankle had made a small side room airtight, installing a large vaporizer in the AC intake vent.  With a flip of a switch the room would fill with virtually odorless, invisible smoke, sending the occupants into a spiral of dreamy pleasure.  It was the perfect way to make a whole evening disappear.  If left to her own devices Janie would spend days on end in there, stoned from sun up to sundown.   

        Frankle gave them pills too.  Pills that made them horny or sleepy or giggly or very, very stupid.  Although Erin felt pretty stupid in general these days.  She knew she used to be quite the biochem student, but for the life of her she couldn't remember even the simplest equation any more.  Heck, sometimes she went to the bathroom and halfway there forgot where she was going.  But she didn't mind.  How could anyone mind when feeling so wonderfully stoned all day long? 

        Of course all the weed came with an awful lot of sex.  Every few days Erin found herself bobbing on Frankle's dick or sucking him off while his wife watched, fingering herself in the corner.  She still loved girls the most, but for Frankle – sweet Frankle who made her feel so good – she could make an exception.  When not in Frankle's bed she was in Janie's or Dawn's or Stephanie's or all at once.  She couldn't believe how often she got to come and make others come. 

        Like right now for example.  Erin looked down and saw that her clothes was gone, Janie's fingers pumping in and out of her pussy.  And Erin's tongue was moving back and forth over something – she looked up and saw it was Dawn's clit.  What were those things massaging her tits?  Oh, they were Stephanie's hands.  And weren't they in the grow field? Now they seemed to be back inside. But how... 

        “Howww......hoow did I, I, geet heree?” asked Erin, a look of adorable confusion crossing her baked face. 

        “Siilly,” said Janie, “I kneew you'd forrget. Youu took a puff, hehe, a puff off Dawn's speccial joint shee rolled.” 

        “Pleeaaase,” moaned Dawn, her eyes rolled up in her head, “dooon't stoooppp.” 

        “Whhy speecial?” asked Erin, “Waait! Diiid it haave Frannkle's speciaal stufff onn it?” 

        “Mayybe,” smiled Janie sheepishly. 

        “Heeyyyy, he saaid noot to ussse that too offten, it'll maake us, maake us.....you knooow...stuupid.” 

        Janie increased the pace of her fingers.  Pleasure radiated from all throughout Erin's body, dulling her mind and widening her eyes. 

        “But...hehe...youu doon't miind beeing stupider....or forgettting....dooo you?” laughed Stephanie. 

        “Noooooo,” moaned Erin, her tongue going back to Dawn's clit. 

        “Yessssss!” moaned Dawn. 

        Dawn reached out with one hand and found Stephanie's pussy, and then Stephanie bent over and found Janie's with her mouth.  The girls quivered and moaned, wasted and loving it.  The room seemed to be slightly smokier and Erin noticed a faint hiss.  Were they in the hotbox room, Erin wondered, too lost in pleasure to look around.   Were they going to get even more stoned?  Yes, yes they were, Erin realized as her vision tunneled ever more, as her thoughts grew even more heavenly sluggish, as her rise toward orgasm felt even more intense.  Fine by her. 

THE END