D.N.D.T. (Dixie's Nude Debate Team)

D.N.D.T. (Dixie's Nude Debate Team)

D.N.D.T. (Dixie's Nude Debate Team)

This story was submitted to the Literotica National Nude Day Contest for 2026. Enjoy.

All characters over 18.

***

Part 1: Goodbye, Middlevale High

***

Chapter 1: Achey and Dixie

"Achey, come ON," I yelled, tapping my foot impatiently.

I stood in the entryway of Achey's house, adjusting my backpack from one shoulder to the other. If he took much longer, we were going to be late.

His house was small and simple and overwhelmingly decorated: every space had a picture or knick-knack, and over the years I had heard the stories behind every one. Mostly because Achey's mom loved to share her stories but could never remember what stories she had told to who.

I saw Achey's mom, Mrs. Smith, waddling towards me. I put on the most pleasant smile I was capable of at 6:30am.

"Oh hello, Dixie," Mrs. Smith said, "would you like a banana, or some crackers or something? Perhaps some yogurt? Have you eaten any breakfast at all?"

I'm sure she thought she meant well, but I know the unwritten assumption: my parents probably didn't feed me or take care of me, so it was up to her to fill in the gaps. This was just one of the many fun little unspoken assumptions that came along with being not quite entirely white in Middlevale. It was the case even when around people like Mrs. Smith, who had known me and my parents for basically my entire life.

I wanted to tell Mrs. Smith that my mother was perfectly capable of buying bananas and crackers, despite the crippling deformity of her beautiful mocha skin tone, but I did not say that. Instead, I said, "I'm good, Mrs. Smith, I've eaten- thank you though!"

"Well, we also have toast and jam," Mrs. Smith continued, "And apples, and some oranges..."

I could tell that she was beginning to spiral. If Achey didn't get down here soon, I was going to get caught in a conversation with her and those were not always easy to escape.

"No thank you!" I said, and turned to hold my hands to my mouth, "ACHEY!! WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!"

"COMING!" he yelled from upstairs. I could hear him bustling around up there, back and forth. Trying on his third shirt option, I bet.

"I'm so glad you care about being on time for school, dear," Mrs. Smith said, patting me gently on the back. "You've always been SUCH a good influence on Achilles."

"Thank you, Mrs. Smith," I said. "It's mostly that AP English is our first class, and Mrs. Coulson keeps track whenever we're tardy and I'm already at seven..."

"Oh that Mrs. Coulson, she's also your advisor for that little team you two are on, right?"

"Yes, Debate Team," I said, smiling and ignoring the 'little' part of that sentence. I wanted to yell curses at Achey, but I couldn't in Mrs. Smith's presence.

"Yes, Achilles has always been such a little smart alec, it's no wonder he took to debating like you!" Mrs. Smith said, going over to a chess set displayed on a counter. "Did I ever tell you that when we went to Morocco, little Achilles actually haggled for this, he wanted it so much- can you believe it! A nine year old: haggling!"

She chuckled to herself. It was one of her favorite stories.

"Yes, that's very, uh... very..." I turned up to yell up the stairs. "OKAY I'M LEAVING!"

"Alright alright!" Achey said as he ran down the stairs.

I crossed my arms. It was hard to stay mad at a boy that pretty, but I had to try, or he would never learn.

Achey was put together nicely as usual in his buttoned shirt and long blue pants. His light brown hair was nicely groomed and bounced a little as he ran down the steps. Most boys at school couldn't be bothered to wear clean shoes or clothes that fit them properly, but Achey always looked good and well thought out. No wonder he took so long to get ready.

"Achey, next time you're walking," I growled, turning to leave.

"There is no next time, it's the last day of school," he said. "And besides, could you evenimaginedriving to school without me? You'd be so bored you'd doze off and hit a pole or something."

I rolled my eyes and turned to leave, but he took my arm and spun me back around.

"Hold on!"

Achey looked up and down my chest. Was he checking me out? My heart began beating quickly. No, surely he wasn't doing that in front of his mom. But he was... staring right at my tits.

"Morrissey, really?" he said. "What are you, a 45 year old gay man?"

"Language!" Mrs. Smith yelled, aghast.

I rolled my eyes. 'Gay' was the bad word, apparently.

"Sorry," Achey said. "I'll put a dollar in the jar when I get home."

"It's retro, you asshole, and I like Morrissey, so shut up," I said, grabbing his arm. "Now let's-"

"Now hold on, Achilles, don't forget your lunch!" Mrs. Smith said, waddling up with a neatly packed lunch bag. "The cafeteria makes such awful food!"

I knew that Achilles would toss most of that and eat chicken nuggets anyway, but he took the bag nonetheless.

Mrs. Smith pointed to the bag. "So today, instead of an apple, I put in two oranges. I got those at Frank's produce. They have such fantastic oranges this time of year, you can't get fruits like that at the grocery store..."

I widened my eyes at Achey, as if my eyes could bore laser holes through him. Luckily, he got the message.

"Thanks, but I've got to go mom, bye!" he said, grabbing the bag. She kept talking, even after we were already outside. Hyping up those oranges.

I quickly unlocked my car: a seven-year-old beaten down Toyota Corolla. Achey got in the passenger seat and I checked the mirrors and pulled out quickly.

"I'll never get tired of hearing her call you 'Achilles'," I said, gunning the gas pedal.

"Hush! You know the rule: that name does not exist outside of my house!" he said.

"What I especially like is the full name altogether," I teased. "Achilles... Smith. It's perfect. What a ring to it."

"Says the black girl namedDixie," he said, rolling his eyes. "Our parents really made some choices, huh?"

"Whimsical parents are theworst," I agreed, quickly pulling around a corner. My tight turn forced Achey to lean sideways and grab the little bar above the door.

"Slow down!" he said. "It's not the end of the world if you get another tardy!"

"Yes it is!" I said. "She'll hate me!"

"She will not, you are already Mrs. Coulson's favorite student," Achey scoffed.

"And I need to KEEP it that way!" I insisted, screeching to a halt at a red light. I tapped my foot, impatiently waiting for green.

"Do you have any idea what a huge nerd you are?" he said, pulling out his phone.

"Oh, god forbid a girl has interests," I said, rolling my eyes.

Achey snickered.

"What's so funny?" I said.

"An 'interest'? Really?" Achey asked.

"Well, what else would you call it?"

"For you, an obsession." I rolled my eyes as he continued. "It's not healthy, you know."

"Using my brain to think about important issues, winning competitions, and practicing public speaking- one of the most valuable skills in the workforce- is unhealthy, is it?" I said.

"The way you obsess over it, it is," he mumbled. "And you know the minute you actually have sex with a real live human male, you won't care the least bit about any of that stuff."

"Oh, go fuck yourself!" I yelled, and began slapping him wildly.

"Hey- ow! Dixie stop!" I continued smacking him with my right hand while I drove with my left.

Achey tried to protect himself from the onslaught. "What, are you on your period?!"

Chapter 2: Zippy

The bell rang and everyone in my AP Calculus class cheered. The teacher even clapped for us. It was the last bell of the last class of the year, and for many of us, it was the last class of high school entirely. I half-listened to the other students talking about their summer plans as I began to put my books away.

Zippy stood up and I turned to her.

"Is that a new tattoo?" I said, eying a dolphin tattoo on her exposed shoulder that I didn't recognize.

"Oh yeah, good catch! Got it last weekend!" She leaned down to let me get a better look.

Zippy was, in my opinion, intimidatingly cool. She was not necessarily part of any of the popular cliques, but seemed to move and weave between different groups in a way that was basically unheard of. Everyone at school at least recognized her: she had extensively tattooed arms, piercings that ran up the sides of her right ear, and wore lots of black. She was also very hot and about a million feet tall. So, suffice to say I was far too intimidated to talk to her for most of the year despite sitting next to her... until we had an assignment together about a month ago. And much to my surprise, she was just a nice, and fairly normal person.

I leaned up on my tiptoes to look at the little dolphin.

"Surprised you can see it from way down there, Dixie!" she said, winking.

"Oh shut up, Zippy, can I touch it?" I said, going on my tiptoes.

"Sure," she said, and let me run my finger along the tattoo.

"Aw, he's so cute!" I said, rubbing the little dolphin.

"Thanks! I went through about a dozen different variations."

"I love how you have such cute tats!" I said, looking over her shoulders and exposed arms. The extensive tattooing looked very scary until you got close and realized they were mostly cute things like animals, forest motifs, flowers, and things like that.

"Yeah, most people just think I'm a psycho bitch and don't pay any attention," she said. "Little do they know I'm only a psycho bitch on occasion."

"Well, who isn't a psycho bitch every now and then?" I said.

"Frankly, I think people who aren't psycho bitches sometimes are themselves psycho," she said.

"100% agree," I said, smiling.

We chatted as we left class and made our way into the hall. She seemed to be following in the same direction as I was.

"Hey hottie, got plans? First day of summer," a boy asked, walking up beside Zippy.

Oddly, I was going to ask her basically the same thing, except without all the creepiness. Two other boys trailed him, and all three wore sports jackets. Ugh, sports jocks. I narrowed my eyes and flexed my fingers, as if they had Wolverine claws ready to pop out. But I kept the tall tattoo-covered girl between me and the boys.

"Yes I do have plans," Zippy said. She strode forward quickly. With her long legs I nearly had to jog to keep up.

The boys kept up easily, running beside her like three cheetahs trying to chase down a gazelle.

"You know you're just my style," the lead boy said, grinning.

"Oh, you like girls who can beat the shit out of you?" Zippy said. Her tone was completely calm, and she only raised a single eyebrow.

"Oh fuck yeah I do," the lead jock responded, and all the boys laughed. "Hey, so we're all heading to a party at Dougie's. End of the year and all, we're going to get absolutely destroyed-"

"Oh sorry, too bad but I have plans," Zippy said, walking quicker. "As I just mentioned."

"Come on, what can you be doing that's better than this?" the lead sports jock said.

Zippy stopped and turned to him. "Summer Debate Team."

I looked at her, shocked. Was she teasing me, somehow? She knew I was on summer debate team. But summer debate team didn't have, well... cool people in it.

The boys fell over themselves laughing. Zippy continued down the hall and the boys followed.

"You're fucking funny! No really though," he said. "So we've got real alcohol, not just beer: we've got vodka, triple sec..."

"Sorry, Debate Team. Have fun at Dougie's." Zippy said. We reached the stairs and began to go up. "

"Are you serious?!" he said, shocked. The two other boys whispered.

"YOU HEARD HER, DOOFUS SQUAD!" I yelled at them. "TRY SOMEONE ELSE!"

"What the fuck did you say, short girl?" the lead one said.

Zippy smirked and sped up the stairs, and I followed quickly. Luckily the boys were staying on the ground floor.

"Hey why don't you come to Dougie's?" a second guy offered. "I like girls with a little color!"

The boys all laughed but let us go as we ran up the stairs.

"That happen a lot?" I said Zippy as we ascended.

"Well I guess they're a little bolder than usual," Zippy said, shrugging. "Maybe it's that last day of school energy."

"So where are you really going?" I asked.

Zippy stopped as we reached the upper floor and turned to me, confused. "I'm going to the same place you are, right? I mean I just assumed you were doing it."

"Yeah, but..." I blinked. "You'redoing summer debate team?"

"Yeah, why not?" she asked, shrugging. "I took debate class this year, and thought it was fun. Mrs. Coulson suggested I join the summer team."

I fidgeted, trying to figure out if she was serious. Most people who took the debate class during the school year did it for the easy A, or to ogle Mrs. Coulson. Deciding to join the competitive Debate Team over the summer was an entirely different animal.

"Because you're..." I pointed to her, unsure what to say. "Well you're like... cool."

Zippy laughed. "I'm absolutelynotcool. I don't exactly strike you as a cheerleader, do I?"

"No, but like..." I gestured to her, unsure how to put words to it.

"Look, I had fun with Mrs. Coulson's class, and thought I'd try it out," Zippy said, shrugging. "Besides, if I don't do some kind of school thing over the summer, my parents are going to make me get another job and if I come back from Subway with salami in my piercings again I'm going to LOSE it."

"Well if Mrs. Coulson suggested you join the team, you must be good," I said. "We probably have a shot at getting to Regionals this year."

"Oh yeah, she said something about that," Zippy said. "You almost won last year, but didn't quite make it or something like that?"

My eye twitched. Yeah, we crashed out in the last debate. Because I froze.

"Something like that," I said.

"Well, we should try to win this year," Zippy said. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

I looked at her, trying to figure her out. Fun? I had been trying to win the summer debate Regionals for the last three summers, giving blood sweat and tears. Zippy talked about it so casually. I imagined Churchill calling up Roosevelt on the eve of the Normandy invasion and saying, 'Wouldn't it be fun if we won World War Two?"

"Well here we are," Zippy said, as we reached Mrs. Coulson's classroom. "Let's go!"

Chapter 3: Dixie vs. Garrett

Zippy and I waited and chatted while the rest of the team assembled. Liu was there already, of course, and another girl I didn't recognize with long red hair. Martin arrived next. He was tall and serious and was with the team last summer, but dropped out halfway in. He was a decent debater, and it would be good if he stayed this time.

Then, Garrett Dane strode into the room.

He passed just in front of me. Something about him was different, but I couldn't place it. He had the same familiar wavy black hair, same slightly dusty jeans, and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He always wore that same expression: part brooding and part smug, if he didn't care for anyone or anything around him. He barely turned, glancing at me through the strands of that too-long black hair.

"Dix," he said, nodding as he passed me.

What a fucker. I growled.

"Yeah somehow after four years you still keep forgetting my name is 'Dixie', huh? Getting early onset dementia or something?"

"Oh, I couldn't forget you," he said. "You're that cute little short girl who always comes in second place in the team rankings every summer, right? Oh no wait... last year it was third, wasn't it?"

"Fuck you Garrett, and you can say my name," I said.

"I did, Dix."

"You should call the girl whatever she asks you to call her!" Zippy cut in.

"Is that right?" Garrett asked.

"It is!" Zippy responded.

"So if she asked me to call her... Fidel Castro, I would be required to do that, by this law of yours?"

"Well that's not my name, asshole," I insisted.

"Well unfortunately for you, Fidel, I think 'Dix' is cute, so I think I'll keep saying it," he said, grinning.

I felt myself getting mad and flustered, which I knew threw me off. And we hadn't even begun to debate. He spared a look at Zippy, as if deciding whether to introduce himself or not. Instead, he just moved to the very front of the room, sitting in the middle of the front row like a complete asshat. I balled up a piece of paper and tossed it at him. It bounced off the back of his head. I could tell he grinned, and didn't bother to turn around.

Mrs. Coulson came into the room, smiling sweetly as usual. She wore a fun red dress, simple but bright, and her long strawberry blonde hair was tied loosely above her head.

"Hello, everyone!" Mrs. Coulson stood at the front of the room. "Welcome to the Summer Debate Team!"

"Sorry everyone, sorry!" Achey said, bursting into the room. He weaved through empty chairs to get to me and sat down on my left. There were seven students now in a classroom made for thirty, so it was a little sparse.

"Always late," I whispered.

"Oh, shut up," he responded. He looked to the seat on my right. "Zippy? You're doing debate team?"

"Hey there, I've seen you around," Zippy said. "You're... Abel, or something?"

"Achey," he corrected.

"Right, sorry," she said.

"No problem," he responded. "I think everyone at school knows your name. I'm just impressed you knew the first letter of mine."

Zippy just smiled.

Mrs. Coulson cleared her throat loudly, which indicated silence.

"Hello, Achey, welcome back!" Mrs. Coulson said, smiling sweetly, and turned to the class. "Now I know most of you know each other, but some of you may not, so I just think it's best we just do introductions anyway. Why don't we start with the team leader, who of course had the top scores from the summer team last year: Garrett will you please stand up?"

"Oh she had to say 'of course'," I whispered to Achey. "Yes, 'of course' Garrett had the highest scores, of course, of course!"

Achey leaned to me. "Is he a little.. muscly-er this year? Maybe he was hitting the gym during the year, or..."

"How can you say that?" I hissed.

"What?" Achey whispered, shrugging. "Just observing..."

"No ogling the enemy!"

"Aren't you all on the same team?" Zippy whispered from my other side.

"When we go to competitions we are," I said, crossing my arms and scowling. "Not here."

"Ahem," Mrs. Coulson said, turning to me. I felt like the Eye of Sauron just found me sneaking around Mordor. She waved to us. "There's only seven of us, so let's all move closer to the front."

We all got up and moved closer to look at Garrett introducing himself.

"I'm Garrett," he said. "I've been on the team since Freshman year. I've had the highest class scores each year. Seven Individual Top Speakers in competitions. We made it to Regionals twice, but didn't win."

He glanced at me as he said that. Of course, he probably blamed me for the reason he doesn't have a Regionals team win. And the worst part is, he's right.

"Well why don't you say something about yourself that's not about debating," Mrs. Coulson said. "Something about your family, perhaps?"

"I don't really have much to say about them," Garrett said, shrugging. "My dad has a ranch just outside town. I help him out, and I'll be working there full time starting in the fall."

He crossed his arms, and I watched as his muscles seemed to bulge underneath those rolled-up sleeves. Now that Achey mentioned it, I couldn't un-see it. He didn't look so... filled out last year. Did he? Or was I just not paying attention? What were the muscles on the back of arms called, again? Triceps? He had nice triceps.

"Are you going to be working while you're going to college?" Zippy asked. I have no idea what possessed her to ask that. The team veterans all knew that Garrett was preordained to work on the ranch. I knew for a fact that he didn't even put in school applications.