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Montreal Threesomes – Ménage à trois

The Tiffany Stories by Dr. Wu – Toying With Tiffany – #01

Toying With Tiffany  (The First Tiffany Story – more will follow if there is appreciation for the first)
By Dr. Wu

Chapter One: The One With The Ants in the Pants

Tiffany Daniels squirmed in her seat. Her delectable 16-year-old ass slid
forward and back, forward and back, rubbing against the wood. As she rubbed
her butt against the seat, she crossed and uncrossed her legs. Tiffany Daniels,
high school junior, cheerleader, princess tease, was antsy. Very antsy indeed.
She swung her right leg over her left, crossing them in mid-thigh, and squeezed
the muscles in her legs. She scooted back an inch in her desk chair. Nothing she
did revealed the terrible itching in her sweet young pussy, the itch that spread
deep up into her virgin asshole. She was afraid that if she wriggled much more,
her embarrassingly short skirt, which was already climbing up her thighs,
would ride up high enough to expose her white panties in front of her teacher
and all her classmates.
Mr. Green, her English teacher, was droning on about Emily Dickinson in
front of the class. Tiffany was too pre-occupied with the uncomfortable feeling
in her pussy and ass to notice how often Green was looking her way. He didn’t
stop talking, but he was keeping his eye on the writhing youngster. What he
saw was one of the prettiest, sexiest young girls at Daniels High
School.(Named for Godfrey Daniels, Tiffany’s grandfather, making her one of
the town’s blue bloods, and one of its biggest snobs.)
Even in days past, when Tiffany had dressed like a typical teenaged girl,
she had been a vision of pure desirability. She stood five feet seven inches,
weighed 115 pounds, and had blonde wavy hair that fell down over her
shoulders and gorgeous blue eyes. She had sprouted a fantastic set of breasts
over the last couple of years, perfect grapefruit-sized beauties that stood out
from her chest with the arrogance of youth. Capped with the kind of large pink
nipples that you usually only saw in girlie magazines. Her slender waist flared
out into rounded hips, and from there on down she was nothing but long,
tanned legs. Her cheerleading kept her fit. Her family’s money kept her tanned,
with regular trips to a tanning salon, and exquisitely groomed with regular trips
to the best hair stylist in town.
She had been told, frequently, by boys at school that she resembled the
tennis player Anna Kournikova. She figured they were just saying that to get
some pussy – teenaged boys would say or do anything to get some pussy,
particularly some as wonderful as Tiffany’s – but it was true, there was a
resemblance. But today, Tiffany was not dressed like the other girls. Just about
everybody, even the rich bitches like Tiff, wore jeans, sneakers and T-shirts to
school. It might as well have been the official school uniform at Daniels High.
Tiffany, however, wore a white blouse that was about one size too small
for her, so that her breasts pushed the front of the blouse out, calling more
attention to them. A plaid pleated skirt was the traditional Catholic schoolgirl
look, but this skirt was much shorter than any Catholic school would ever
allow. It fell only a few inches below the cheeks of her ass, and that’s why she
was so concerned about it riding up as she wiggled in her seat. On her feet, she
wore little white anklet socks and white high-heeled sandals made up of many
small criss-crossing straps. It was an outfit that virtually screamed “Look at
me! Look at what a sexy little 16-year-old tease I am!” Which was the idea. But
not Tiffany’s idea. Tiffany was mortified by being forced to wear the too-tight
blouse and the too-short skirt. But she had forgotten about her deep shame for
the moment as the unbearable, agonizing itching in her pussy suddenly became
even worse.
“MMMMMMffff!” moaned Tiffany, biting her lip, and rubbing her ass
against the chair for all it was worth.
“Miss Daniels, is something wrong?” asked Mr. Green, interrupting his
lecture. He stared at her. The entire English class stared as well.
“No sir, I’m OK,” the suffering teenager squeaked out.
“Then why are you squirming so much in your seat and making noise?”
asked Green. His eyes glittered with a touch of evil.
“I’m sorry,” said Tiffany. “I’ll be good.”
“Stand up, please,” ordered Mr. Green. He gave her a hard look, willing
her to get to her feet. Reluctantly, Tiffany slid out of her seat and stood beside
her desk. Every male eye in the classroom was riveted either on her naked
thighs (the leg men) or her nipples, which pushed against the thin fabric of her
top. “Miss Daniels, which poem are we discussing?” Tiffany blushed. She had
no idea. She had been so pre-occupied by the feelings her young crotch that she
had tuned the teacher out for the entire class.
“Mr. Green? Please? I don’t feel well,” Tiffany said, her voice taking on
the pleading tone of a little girl.
“And what exactly is the matter, Miss Daniels? Do you have ants in your
pants?” The whole class burst into laughter. Tiffany turned crimson red in
shame. Because the truth was, she did have ants in her pants. She had hundreds
of ants crawling all over her pussy, down between her legs, along her ass crack.
She had ants up deep inside her pussy, and ants deep up inside her rectum. And
the rule for the day was, she could not take them out. Couldn’t even take her
panties off to scratch. She had to suffer, all day long, both the physical
discomfort of the nasty little insects violating all of her private parts, and the
psychological pain of knowing that she was not allowed to do anything about
it. Green waited for an answer. Tiffany wondered: Did her know? She
stammered, unable to answer.
“Well, if you won’t even give me the respect of an answer to a simple
question like whether you have ants in your pants, would you please come up
to the front of the room?” Green asked, politely but firmly. Tiffany didn’t move.
Her heart was pounding like mad. “Now, Miss Daniels!” barked the English
teacher. “Or it will be detention for you today after school!” Detention? thought
Tiffany. God, that was the last thing she could handle. Reluctantly, she walked
to the front of the room.
“I believe you know the spot,” Mr. Green said, and gestured at the
blackboard. There was a chalk circle drawn there, and whenever a student
misbehaved, Green ordered them to stand with their nose pressed to the circle
and their back to their fellow students. Tiffany had never been singled out for
this humiliating punishment, and on this of all days! She didn’t know how she
could bear it. “Circle or detention, Miss Daniels,” Green said coldly. Suddenly
she knew, somehow, that Green was in on it, that he knew what the principal
had done to her that morning. How he’d poured honey all over her pussy and
ass, parted the tender labia with his rough fingers and dribbled the honey deep
into her pussy, then parted her ass the same way and applied honey there.
How he’d then pulled a jar of ants from his desk drawer and dumped them
all over her middle. How he’d handed her the white panties, and after she put
them on, had taken a roll of heavy-duty white duct tape and firmly taped the
top of the panties to her skin, all the way around her waist, 360 degrees, then
done the same with each leg band, taping each to her luscious thighs. The ants
were trapped inside the panties, but they didn’t mind. They had honey to feast
on. The principal, Mr. White, had told the cheerleader that she would keep the
ants in her panties all through the school day, and only be allowed to take them
out at the end. If she tried to get the ants out before the final bell, the next day
he would repeat the exercise, using fire ants instead of regular ants. Fire ants,
Tiffany knew, would bite her tenderest places repeatedly and be a hellish agony
far worse than the tickling of the regular ants. Green knew about the ants,
Tiffany thought. And if he knew, detention would be far, far worse than the
chalk circle. It would mean she’d have to keep the ants in her pants after the
final bell.
Slowly, Tiffany walked to the front of the room, as the guys snickered and
watched the sway of her short, pleated skirt moving back and forth across the
ass they all wanted more than anything in the world. Her cheeks burned. She
felt as if she was on the verge of tears, but told herself she would not cry. She
reached the black board and pressed her nose into the circle. In order to do so,
she had to stand so close that her 36-C breasts mashed into the blackboard as
well. She worried that she was getting yellow chalk marks all over her blouse
right over her breasts, which would call even more attention to them the rest of
the day. But she did not dare take her nose out of the circle.
Mr. Green went back to his lecture on Emily Dickinson, but no one was
listening. The boys were all ogling Tiffany, wondering why she had started
dressing like such a slut. The girls looked at her with various mixtures of envy
for her good looks and malice for her past bitchiness.
“Nice ass, Tiff!” she heard a boy yell. She couldn’t recognize the voice, but
her face felt so hot. She didn’t dare look around and let them see her. Tiffany
felt the itching start again, deep, deep insider her rectum. Several ants were
working their way up further and further. She wanted more than anything to rip
her panties down, even there in front of everyone, and plunge her fingers up her
own ass, crushing the ants, plucking them out. But with every eye on her, that
was impossible. Even if she had been alone, she knew what would happen if
she didn’t keep the panties in place all day. So Tiffany Daniels suffered. And
waited in agony. There was still half an hour to go in English class.

Chapter Two: The One With the Flashback

Tiffany stood with her nose in the chalk circle, her large, firm teen breasts
pushing against the blackboard, her back to the class. She could feel the lustful
gazes of the young men, all 16 years old just like she was, and as full of
hormones as 16-year-old boys can be, staring at her long tanned legs. Those
legs were even more on display than usual, as the skirt she was wearing – had
been forced to wear that morning – was about an inch shorter than her normal
cheerleading skirt. She knew that if she were to bend even slightly at the waist,
it would ride up high enough for everyone to see her white panties. Her thighs
were smooth, the inner surfaces freshly shaved, her calves shapely.
Tiffany Daniels was a good girl. She rarely got in trouble. Made mostly
Bs, occasionally an A from a male teacher who graded her up just because he
enjoyed having such a sexy girl in his class, occasionally a C from a jealous
female teacher. She never got detention, had not tried drugs, and was still a
virgin, although she had had a couple of close calls with boys who had pushed
hard during make-out sessions. She had let one such boy, Brad, get as far as a
hand down her panties and a finger teasing her teen pussy lips, and it felt better
than anything had ever felt in her life, but she didn’t want to get carried away,
and it stopped the necking session, leaving Brad with a case of blue balls.
Brad had only told a couple of friends, but that was enough to get Tiffany
branded a “prick tease” around Daniels High School. That, and the normal
cruelty of teenagers. She exuded the confidence of the young, rich, good-
looking teenaged girl, the kind who got out on the basketball floor every Friday
night in her tight cheerleading uniform, and knew that every male cock in the
arena was twitching over her. It gave her a feeling of power, and even,
sometimes, made her pussy a little juicy, just thinking about how horny all the
boys were for her.
Well, she wasn’t feeling very powerful today. Powerless, in fact. She felt
an ant crawl across her clit. It was a maddening tickle, and made her slightly
horny. God, what a slut, she thought to herself, I’ve got an insect crawling on
my clitty and I’m getting off on it. One little mistake, she thought. I cheated on
one lousy little test, and now I here I am with my panties taped to my body and
my pussy full of ants. God damn that Mr. White and the rest of them. Her mind
drifted back three days earlier, when her ordeal began.
Tiffany had been in algebra class with Mr. Brown, taking a test. She had
been so busy with cheerleading lately, and making signs for the big
homecoming game, that she had neglected her studies. So she had made up a
tiny cheat sheet on a piece of paper the size of a matchbox with the half-dozen
formulas she needed but hadn’t memorized. When it looked like Mr. Brown
was busy grading papers at his desk, she had pulled the cheat sheet out and
placed it beside her test and gone to work.
The 16-year-old beauty was so engrossed in the test, her head bent low
over the paper, that she hadn’t realized Brown had gotten up and was walking
through the room until he was standing right over her. He put his hand down on
the cheat sheet. Tiffany looked up, fear in her bright blue eyes.
“See me after class, please,” Mr. Brown said. He picked up the cheat sheet
and walked away. The other students hadn’t even realized what had happened.
When the bell rang, the students filed by Brown’s desk, dropping their test
papers. Tiffany lingered. When the last student was gone, Mr. Brown shut the
classroom door.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Tiffany?” he asked. His dark eyes
burrowed directly into hers. The young girl trembled. She didn’t know what to
do or say.
“Oh, please, sir, I’m so sorry,” she blurted out. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t mean to what?” Mr. Brown asked.
“I didn’t mean to cheat on the test.”
“Oh really?” he said sarcastically. “And how did that cheat sheet in your
handwriting get on your desk if you didn’t mean to?”
“Oh, please, oh God,” Tiffany burbled, almost starting to hyperventilate.
Brown noticed approvingly how her sweater was rising and falling rapidly,
thrust out by her heaving bosoms as she gulped in air.
“You’ve already said you’re sorry,” Brown said. “So just take that last little
step and tell me what you did.”
“I I I I cheated, sir. Oh please don’t flunk me!”
“You cheated on my algebra test, Tiffany Daniels?” repeated Mr. Brown.
“Yes,” she said in a tiny voice. “I cheated on the test.” Brown opened a
desk drawer and pulled out a small tape recorded. He clicked rewind for a
second, and Tiffany’s voice filled the room, admitting her transgression.
Tiffany suddenly felt sick. “Why did you tape that?” she asked.
“Evidence,” Brown said simply. Tiffany didn’t like the sound of this at all.
And she liked the rest of the conversation even less. “I’m going to give you a
choice, Tiffany,” her math teacher said. “I can take this cheat sheet and this
tape recording, and you, down to the principal’s office. There, we can call your
parents. When your parents come in, we’ll tell them you’re getting an F in
algebra this semester and why. And we’ll remind you of the school rule that any
F means you cannot participate in any extra-curricular activities, meaning you’ll
be kicked off the cheerleading squad as of this afternoon. Brown took a deep
breath. It was time to play the card.
“Orrrrrrr,” he continued, “we can work out an alternative punishment. You
can meet me tonight at this address. Your parents won’t know, you’ll get an A
in math, you’ll stay a cheerleader.” Tiffany had a feeling that the meeting
involved something sexual. She felt nauseated, felt like she wanted to cry. She
was being blackmailed, but she had no choice.
“I’ll meet you tonight, Mr. Brown,” she said timidly.
“I liked it better when you called me sir,” he said sternly. “Let’s stick with
that.”
“Yes sir,” the blonde beauty said. Her knees were trembling, and she was
on the verge of tears. At 8 p.m., Tiffany knocked on the door at the address Mr.
Brown had given her. It was a nondescript apartment complex on the outskirts
of town, and when Brown opened the door, Tiffany saw that the apartment
itself was as plain as could be. Nothing on the walls, minimal furniture, no
trace that a person really lived here.
“Is this where you live, sir?” she asked, remembering to address him the
way he had requested.
“Oh goodness no, Tiffany,” he said politely. “This is just a little place I
rent on the side.” He studied the 16-year-old cutie. Her blonde hair was pulled
back in a ponytail and she wore little makeup, but she was still a knockout. She
wore khaki pants and a long-sleeved navy T-shirt from Abercrombie and Fitch.
Brown could tell she had tried to make herself as plain and unsexy as possible.
He’d soon fix that, he thought.
“Come in, have a seat,” he said, and gestured to the couch. “Can I fix you a
drink?”
“Like a Coke?” Tiffany said nervously. Her heart was hammering, her
bountiful breasts heaving again under the shirt. She had to get control of
herself, she thought.
“No, a real drink,” Mr. Brown said. “Scotch and water, perhaps?”
“Uh, sure,” said Tiffany. “I mean, I’d like that, please, sir.” Tiffany wasn’t a
drinker, but she wanted to play along with her math teacher. Plus if she could
somehow get evidence that he had offered a 16-year-old student alcohol, she
could counter-blackmail him and maybe get out of this jam. Brown went into
the kitchen, poured Scotch over ice, added a dollop of water, and then his own
little modest addition. He poured a powdered mix out of a baggie into the
unsuspecting girl’s drink. It contained half a dose of GBH, a tranquilizer that
was another version of a “Roofie,” or date-rape drug, mixed with half a dose of
Ecstasy, the tripping drug used at raves.
Even together, the dosages would not knock Tiffany out, just give her a
mellow buzz, a feeling of being disconnected from what was growing on.
Brown hoped it would also make her horny and make her highly suggestible.
The cheerleader sipped her drink, and Brown his, which was undoctored. To
relax her, he asked about cheerleading, about her other classes, about where she
wanted to go to college. Tiffany drank nervously, and answered, and began to
think that maybe her math teacher didn’t want to fuck her after all. Maybe he
was just lonely and wanted to talk, she thought.
“That was tasty,” she said after she had finished the Scotch. “May I please
use the bathroom, sir?”
“Sure,” Brown said. “It’s right down this hall.” The teenager stood up, and
suddenly her head began to swim as the drugs took effect. Her legs felt wobbly,
her tongue was thick in her mouth, and her whole body was tingling in a
strange way. She quickly sat back down. “I don’t feel good, Mr. Brown,” she
said pitifully.
“Oh you’re fine, Tiffany, just fine,” the scheming teacher reassured her.
“Just not used to drinking Scotch, I imagine.” He got up from his chair and sat
down next to her on the couch. He continued to talk to her in a low, reassuring
voice. Tiffany felt so strange. Everything was swirly. She was very aware of
her body. Her nipples seemed to be more sensitive – she could feel them
pushing against the inside of her bra. Her pussy felt warm and open. Her limbs
were numb and heavy. She felt hot and flushed. She could hear Mr. Brown’s
voice, talking, talking. It seemed to anchor her in all the confusion.
“I feel hot,” she told the lecherous teacher.
“Let me see – do you have a fever?” He put his palm on her forehead and
applied a little pressure. Tiffany leaned back, her head against the back of the
couch, and shut her eyes. “Yeah, you’re really feeling warm, sweetheart,” Mr.
Brown said. “Is your heart beating fast?”
“Oooh, God yes,” said Tiffany. Even with her eyes closed, she felt the
room spinning, and the tingling was increasing.
“We’d better cool you down,” Brown said. “Let’s get you out of those
clothes.” Oh God! thought Tiffany in the part of her brain that was still
functioning. He’s trying to get me naked! But she couldn’t believe when she
heard her voice say, as if from a distance, “OK.” Brown pulled her arms over
her head, and pulled the T-shirt up over them, exposing her white lacy bra. He
quickly undid the front clasp, exposing her teenaged breasts, leaving her naked
from the waist up.
When the air hit Tiffany’s nipples, they instantly sprang to life and became
erect, jutting out like little erasers. God, they felt so good and tingly, Tiffany
thought. Meanwhile, Brown leaned over and unlaced her tennis shoes, pulling
them off. He lifted her ass up off the couch and somehow quickly pulled her
pants and panties down together. 16-year-old Tiffany Daniels, the virgin
cheerleader, was now wearing only her white knee socks.
“Here, lie back, Tiffany, you’ll feel better,” Brown purred. She stretched
out. Everything seemed so strange, like it was happening to her but not
happening to her. She heard Brown’s voice. It sounded so soothing. “Are you
feeling tingly?” he asked. “Are you very aware of your body and how it feels?”
“Oh God, yesssss,” she moaned.
“I want you to touch your pussy,” Mr. Brown said in a low, commanding
voice, and placed her right hand on top of the blonde curls. “I want you to play
with it. The more you play with it, the better you’ll feel.” His voice had a
hypnotic quality, and Tiffany obeyed. She was no longer in a strange
apartment with her math teacher. In Tiffany’s mind, there was only the male
voice telling her what to do, and the strange but increasingly wonderful way
her young body felt. She used her fingers to pry open her lips, and began to rub
her clitoris through its little hood.
“Mmmmmm” she moaned. She was oblivious to everything except the
warmth spreading out from her young pussy. Brown let the drugs, his own
suggestions and the girl’s growing horniness work their own magic. He got up
and re-arranged Tiffany’s legs, putting one leg high on the back of the couch,
placing the other foot on the floor. The effect was to spread her legs wide apart,
which wasn’t difficult for a girl used to doing the splits as a cheerleader. It also
pulled her pussy lips wider apart, exposing more of a special place.
Brown went into the kitchen and brought back an armful of stuff, which he
carefully arranged on the coffee table in front of the sofa. The bottle of Scotch
sat next to Tiffany’s empty glass. He pulled out a Ziploc bag of pot and several
rolled joints, and scattered them on the table. He also laid down a mirror with
several lines of cocaine laid out. Tiffany, her eyes closed, her head thrown
back, her right hand working furiously on her young, throbbing clit, was
blissfully unaware of what he was doing.
“Feeeels so goooood,” she purred. The dazed and confused girl continued
to masturbate as the combination of drugs took her further and further away
from reality. She felt as if there was a river of warmth flowing up from her
crotch, up her torso, caressing her breasts with their erect nipples, up her neck
and straight into her brain. She was completely unaware of the tiny, high-
pitched whir of the digital video camcorder recording her every move. The
Daniels High School principal, Roger White, was sitting in a closet across the
room from the masturbating cheerleader, pointing the expensive camera
through a broken slat, capturing her every move. His erection strained against
the front of his pants, and he thought how nice it would be to get out of this
damn closet, whip out his
massive prick and plunge it into her boiling twat.
“All in good time,” Roger, he thought. John Brown, her math teacher, saw
the Tiffany was approaching her orgasm. Her breathing was getting ragged, her
large breasts rode up and down, her fingers flew. Her pink clit had now
completely escaped its protective hood and was swollen with lust.
“Uhhhhhhhhh. Uhhhhhhh,” Tiffany groaned, lost in her own drugged
world of sensual pleasure and self-gratification.
“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” Mr. Brown asked softly, his lips only
inches away from Tiffany’e ear.
“Ohhh, yessssss,” she shuddered as her climax approached. Her young
pussy was now slick with her own sweet juices, and her inner labia gaped open,
exposing the redness within.
“I want you to listen very carefully, Tiffany,” Mr. Brown addressed her.
“In order for you to be able to cum, I’m going to have to cum, too. That’s the
only way you can cum tonight is to make me cum.” Tiffany’s eyes flew open in
panic, and she saw her math teacher standing next to her head, his trousers
down to his ankles, his huge erection bobbing a few inches from her face. It
was angry and purple, its head swollen. She knew she should be afraid of the
large organ, and what Mr. Brown was asking.
“Close your eyes, sweetie,” Mr. Green said. “And open your mouth.
Doesn’t your pussy feel so good?” Tiffany obeyed. Her young lips parted,
almost of their own accord. John Brown moved forward and slipped the
bulbous head of his cock between her lips. “Now suck on it, Tiffany.” A tiny
part of the drug-addled girl’s brain knew this was wrong, but she didn’t have the
strength to object or fight. It was so much easier to just do what he said, and
keep fingering her pussy. She began to suck on the teacher’s dick, and he
pushed a couple more inches into her mouth.
For the next few minutes, the room was quiet. There was the slight whir of
the video camera, the slurping sound of Brown’s cock as it sawed back and
forth into the cheerleader’s luscious mouth, and the wet, sloppy sound as she
frantically rubbed her clit, which slid around in circles in the lubrication of her
pussy juices.
“OK, I’m going to cum now,” Mr. Brown told her, his breathing labored, as
he felt his scrotum tighten and his balls prepare to release a massive load into
the young girl’s warm, moist mouth. “There’s going to be some sperm shooting
into your mouth, and as soon as you feel it hit your tongue, it will be time for
you to come too. I want us to come together. And I want you to swallow all my
sperm.” Tiffany, in a daze of lust, close to her own orgasm, practically stripped
of her own will by the drugs, just moaned in agreement.
Suddenly, she felt her teacher’s hot cum spurting onto her tongue, and his
hypnotic suggestion took hold. She tipped over the edge into her own orgasm
and began to cum hard. The older man’s cum spurted and spurted, hot and salty,
and she began to swallow, as her pussy began to spasm. Her hand kept busy on
her clit, rubbing furiously, as Green rammed his cock into her mouth again and
again until his balls were drained. The student and teacher were both at peace,
drained by their tremendous orgasms.
The remainder of the evening was just logistics. Brown helped the groggy
girl get dressed, and fished out of her purse the address he had given her, so as
not to leave any link to himself. He walked her out to her car and drove her
home – she was certainly in no shape to drive! – all the while talking gently to
her to keep her from freaking out. Tiffany just hummed softly to herself, and
seemed unaware of her surrounding. Brown parked the car in her driveway and
told her to go into her house and go to bed, and the girl obeyed. Roger White
drove up five minutes later and picked the math teacher up.
“God almighty,” I got a hard-on like fucking crowbar,” said White.
“Well then,” said Brown, “I guess you get first crack at her tomorrow.”

Chapter Three: The One With the Golden Oldie

And that’s how it had started, Tiffany thought, as she prayed for the bell to
ring to signal the end of English class. Her pert little nose had been parked in
the chalk circle for 10 minutes now, but it seemed like an eternity. She had to
stand still even as hundreds of ants feasted on the honey that had been applied
to the insides of her vagina and far up into her teenaged asshole. The
maddening ants kept her in constant agony, and were even starting to make her
horny as they marched back and forth all over her little clitty.
Of course, she only found out some of the details when Brown and White
finally told her how they had worked out the plan; the night she had fingered
herself to orgasm and swallowed a load of Brown’s hot cum, she had been so
doped up on GBH and Ecstasy she barely knew her own name.
The morning after the cheerleader had put on her little show for the
treacherous older men, she woke up feeling awful, an after effect of the drugs.
She told her mother that she didn’t feel well and asked her to call the school
office. Her mother agreed; Tiffany was not the sort of girl to fake being sick.
Her younger sister Stephanie popped her head into Tiffany’s room. At 14,
Stephanie was a budding beauty. She still had her braces on her teeth, which
were due off in a year, and her breasts had not yet begun to sprout into the
impressive 36-Cs that poked out of Tiffany’s torso, but she was still a little
cutie who was obviously going to be just as hot as her older sister.
“Hey!” said Stephanie cheerfully. “Where were you last night? I didn’t hear
you come in.” Tiffany cast her mind back. She remembered going to her math
teacher’s apartment, but not much else. She had a vague memory of being
naked, and she blushed. What had happened? Why couldn’t she remember?
“Oh, I stayed at school to work on homecoming banners,” Tiffany lied. She
hated being dishonest with her sister, but couldn’t possibly tell her the truth,
and she wasn’t even sure of the truth. Tiffany stayed in bed all that day. The
next day, although she felt fine, she also had her mother call in sick for her. She
was dreading facing Mr. Brown. Had she really been naked with him? Had he
fucked her? She wondered. No, she’d be able to feel it in her pussy, she
decided, and she could tell she was still a virgin. On the third day, Tiffany felt
like she had no choice. She couldn’t stay home from school forever.
Homecoming was approaching, and if she missed too many practices she
wouldn’t be allowed to cheer. She dressed for school conservatively – blue
jeans, a bulky sweater, Doc Martens – and drove to Daniels High School.
Sitting in first period, Tiffany listened to the morning announcements over
the P.A. system. Just as they were winding up, the vice principal who was
reading the announcements said, “And Tiffany Daniels, please report to the
principal’s office.” Every kid in homeroom turned and looked at the cute
cheerleader, and she blushed. But hey, she thought, I haven’t done anything
wrong. There could be all kinds of reasons to meet with Principal White –
student council (Tiffany was vice president), homecoming plans, all sorts of
things. The teenager gathered up her book bag and marched down the hall to
Principal White’s office.
“Come in, come in, Tiffany,” Mr. White said jovially. His eyes twinkled.
Tiffany was relieved. If she’d done something wrong, he’d be acting stern.
“Have a seat,” White said once Tiffany was inside his office. He shut the door.
Tiffany thought she heard him turn the lock, but maybe she was mistaken.
“Well, well, Miss Tiffany Daniels,” said the principal. Suddenly he was no
longer twinkly, but stern. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” she said nervously.
“Fine, huh?” repeated the principal. “Well, maybe we can change that. I
want you to watch something.” The sexy blonde cheerleader noticed for the
first time a TV set on a portable cart, with a VCR underneath it. White pressed
a button on a remote control, and a video flickered onto the screen. There was
Tiffany Daniels, sweet 16, splayed out stark naked except for white knee socks
on a sofa. On a table in front of her, crystal clear, was a bottle of Scotch, some
joints, and what looked like lines of cocaine spread out on a mirror. Tiffany had
never touched drugs of any sort, but the juxtaposition was damning.
As the girl watched in growing horror, she saw herself start to masturbate.
There was no sound on the video, but the image swung up and down her lithe
young body, focusing first on her face, with her eyes closed and her mouth
open in ecstasy, then panning down her breasts with her nipples hard and firm,
down to her pussy, where her fingers were working away at her clit. The image
zoomed in on her pussy, showing her blonde pubes slick with her pussy juices.
The image jumped back to her head, and a man’s torso entered the frame.
He was unidentifiable, seen only from mid torso to mid thigh. He had an
enormous erection, and he approached Tiffany’s mouth and slid it right in. She
could see the man’s cock move in and out of her mouth. She was horrified,
humiliated, totally degraded, as she watched herself suck a strange man’s cock
while masturbating, and watched it in with her school principal standing right
beside her. White laid a heavy hand on her shoulder, and Tiffany jumped.
“Some video, huh?” he asked, leering. He hit the remote, and the screen
went black. “But wait, there’s more!” White said, making his voice sound like a
TV pitchman on an infomercial. He was enjoying her distress, toying with her,
piling on the humiliation. Tiffany sat numbly, her world shattered. She realized
the video must have been made two nights ago at Mr. Brown’s apartment, even
though her memory was hazy. White walked to his desk and pulled out a large
envelope and tossed it to her.
“Have a look, baby,” he said with a grin. Tiffany pulled out a tape recorded
pressed play and listened once again to her confession of cheating on her
algebra test. She stopped it and pulled from the envelope her cheat sheet. But
the last thing in the envelope was the worst. It was an 8×10 photo taken from
the video. It showed her face in close-up, her eyes closed but very
recognizable. Her lips were stretched around a male cock. Printed across the
bottom of the photo in some sort of electronic type was this message: “MY
NAME IS TIFFANY DANIELS. I LIVE AT 300 W. ALAMEDA STREET,
BEVERLY, TEXAS. MY PHONE NUMBER IS 555-1212. I’M A JUNIOR
AT DANIELS HIGH SCHOOL IN BEVERLY. I LOVE SUCKING OFF
NASTY PERVERTS. IF YOU CAN IMAGINE IT, I WILL DO IT.”
“Oh God, Mr. White,” the poor girl moaned. “What is this? What are you
doing to me?” Mr. White was humming to himself. Tiffany didn’t recognize the
tune. Suddenly he began singing the song he had been humming. “You’re 16,
you’re beautiful, and you’re mine! You’re 16, you’re beautiful, and you’re
mine!” The stunned girl sat, immobile.
“Let me explain your new life to, Miss Tiffany Cock sucker Slave Cunt
Daniels. You are mine, utterly and completely. You will do anything and
everything I tell you to, starting at this moment. Am I making myself clear, you
wretched little slut?” The cheerleader nodded, mute. This was all a horrible
nightmare, she thought. No one had ever dared talk to her in such a way. It was
unimaginable. She’d report him to the school board. She’d tell her parents.
She’d kill the mother fucker!
“Now, Miss Slut Slave, here is what will happen if you don’t do exactly as
I tell you from now on. There are already dozens of copies of this video
dubbed. They have been edited so there is no sign as to who made them. The
only thing people will see on this video will be Tiffany Slut Cunt Daniels
sucking a man’s cock after she’s obviously indulged in illegal drugs. The tapes
are in envelopes, already addressed, and with a friend of mine. If I say the
word, copies will be mailed to your parents, your pastor at St. Timothy’s, your
fellow cheerleaders, and about 50 of the guys here at school. I’m sure they’ll
make sure they’re distributed to everybody else.
“The picture you see with your name, address and phone number will be
posted repeatedly on every sex newsgroup on the Internet. Within 24 hours,
thousands of perverts nationwide will know who you are, where you live and
where you go to school. Of those thousands, surely a couple hundred will want
to track down the girl in the photo. You’ll be stalked at home and at school,
probably raped repeatedly, possibly kidnapped, never to see your family or
friends again.
“If you go to the police, or even if you get really brave and try to kill me,
my friend will mail out the tapes and make the Internet postings. Your life will
be over. So you see, Tiffany Tits, why I sing: You’re 16, you’re beautiful, and
you’re mine.” The cheerleader felt like she was dead. She was being
blackmailed, and she had no choice but to go along with her perverted
principal.
“So, shall we begin, you little slut-monkey?” he said evilly, trying to
degrade the teenager even further with his name-calling.
“Please,” the poor girl squeaked. “Please don’t do this to me. Please let me
go. I’ll be good.”
“Oh, you’ll be good all right,” White said sarcastically.. “You’ll be great.
You’ll be as much fun as we’ve had in a long time. “We’re going to play a series
of games,” he continued. “We’ll call it Toying With Tiffany. You won’t like
hardly any of them, although there’s a good chance that you’ll get some nice
orgasms along the way. Your like here at Daniels High School is going to be a
living hell for a while, until we get tired of you, and then we’ll move on. That’s
right, Tiffany, I said ‘We.’ I’m part of a team of men here at Daniels that breaks
young girls like yourself. You aren’t the first and you won’t be the last. You’re
just our Number One project at the moment.”
“Please,” the cheerleader pleaded. “I beg you, Mr. White. I’ll do anything.”
“That you will, Tiffany, that you will. Now, stand up and strip.” Tiffany
hesitated. “Now, cunt!” he barked. She had no choice. Maybe later she would
figure out how to beat the horrible principal. But for now, she had to obey him
or risk destroying her entire life. She rose, and slowly began to peel off her
clothes. When she was naked, White ordered her to lay on his desk on her back,
grab her ankles and pull her legs back. Her heart pounding, she obeyed. Was he
going to rape her now? Instead, he pulled a jar of honey from his desk drawer.
“Don’t move a muscle, bitch,” he hissed, and began to apply the honey all
over her blonde pubes. He swathed it down the sensitive strip between her
pussy and ass, and smeared her ass cheeks with it. He held open her pussy lips
with one hand and poured honey up inside her, then did the same thing with her
ass. Tiffany was mortified at what was going on, but didn’t understand.
“Please, don’t do this to me,” she wailed.
“Shut up!” he snapped. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you.” He
reached down to the floor and picked up her white cotton panties and stuffed
them into her mouth. “Keep them there until I tell you to take them out,” he
ordered. Then he pulled out the jar of ants. “Not a twitch, bitch, or mommy and
daddy and the whole world will see that video.” And with that, he poured the
ants all over her crotch. Tiffany was petrified, but obeyed his order and didn’t
move a muscle. She wanted to scream, but didn’t.
“One final touch,” he said. From a closet be brought forth a bag. “The
clothes you came in are a little too modest for a slut-monkey like you. From
now on, you’ll wear what we tell you to wear. Put these on.” Tiffany climbed
down from the desk, her head spinning. Honey dripped down one thigh. The
horrible ants were crawling all over her. She pulled out another pair of panties,
also white cotton, and pulled them on. A short pleated skirt went over them,
one a little shorter than her cheerleader skirt that almost showed the bottom of
the cheeks of her sweet teenaged ass. There was no bra, and she looked at
Principal White with a pleading expression, not daring to take the panty gag out
of her mouth and ask a question.
“That’s right, no bra. And on future days, probably no panties,” he said.
Tiffany put on the sheer white blouse that was a little too small. She buttoned it
all the way up, but White unbuttoned the top two buttons. Her large, firm
teenaged breasts strained against the cotton; White could faintly make out her
aureoles under the blouse. The cheerleader continued getting dressed, pulling
on little white anklets with lacy tops and then buckling on white sandals with
high heels. God, she thought, I wouldn’t wear an outfit like this in a million
years. It’s so slutty. White pulled out a roll of duct tape.
“Just to make sure these panties stay on,” he told her, and wrapped a thick
strip of tape around her waist, taping the panties to her bare skin. He did the
same around each thigh, taping the panties to each leg. “If you try to remove
the panties to get rid of the ants,” White warned the scared girl, “we’ll repeat
the game tomorrow, using fire ants. Now there’s one last order of business,
Miss Blow Job Daniels,” the principal said. “I’m more than a little horny after
our little meeting. I want you to kneel down and suck me off.” Jesus, thought
Tiffany, this will never end. Reluctantly, she kneeled down in front of the
principal and pulled the panties out of her mouth as he unzipped his fly and
hauled out his erection.
“Take it deep, little girlie, and use your tongue.” She leaned forward and
opened her lips and allowed the principal to insert his cock into her moist
young mouth. She had never felt so humiliated or degraded in her 16 years, to
be kneeling here, sucking off her principal in this slutty outfit, while hundreds
of live ants crawled all over her most private and sensitive parts. It was a
nightmare, she thought, but she had no choice. After a couple of minutes of
sucking, she felt his cock begin to swell. He clasped his hands on the sides of
her head and thrust deeper into her throat. She started to gag, but fought down
the urge, as his cock erupted, shooting stream after stream of jism deep into her
throat. She swallowed over and over until he was done.
“That’s a good little slut,” Mr. White said. “Go back to class now. And
during the day, if a teacher tells you to do something, I suggest you do it. There
are several of us in on this little project, and you wouldn’t want to piss off
anybody.” Humiliated, Tiffany stuffed her old clothes into her book bag and
left the office. As she left, she heard White singing to himself: “You walked out
of my dreams, and into my life Now you’re my angel divine You’re 16, you’re
beautiful, and you’re mine.”

Chapter Four: The One With All The Cheering

Finally, the bell ring, signaling the end of Tiffany’s humiliation in front of
Mr. Green’s English class. As the other students filed out, Tom Green said
softly to the teenaged girl, so no one else could hear, “Stay right where you are,
Tiffany.” She stood, her nose pressed to the chalkboard. The live ants were
having a field day in her sweet little asshole, crawling up and down, irritating
the sensitive lining. It was maddening, but Tiffany stood still. As the last
student filed out, Tom Green shut the door.
“Well, well, well,” he said. “Little Miss Tiffany My Pussy’s Too Good For
Y’All Daniels. How do you feel?” The cheerleader didn’t know what to
respond. Green was obviously in on the conspiracy with Brown and White to
degrade her, so she knew she had to tread carefully. “I asked you a question,
Miss Tiffany Ants Up the Ass Daniels.” Green stood directly behind her and
leaned in so his breath was hot in her ear and on her neck. If anyone had
walked in, it would have looked like a teacher having a conference with a
student who had been disciplined, but Tiffany knew this was far beyond that.
“I don’t know sir. Please, can I go to my next class?” Tiffany pleaded.
“Sure, slut,” Green said. The teenager flinched with each new verbal
assault. She was used to respect and deference, not horrible sexual insults.
“And you didn’t move, so you don’t get detention, even though I’m sure you
wanted to wiggle that little ass, didn’t you?”
“Please, may I go now?” she repeated.
“Yes you may,” said Green, and Tiffany stepped back from the blackboard.
Green ogled her brazenly, and his eyes stopped on her gorgeous teenaged tits.
“Uh-oh, little problem here, Tiff,” he said. She looked down and saw two large
yellow chalk smears, one over each breast, where they had pressed against the
board. “Here, let’s clean you up,” Green said with mock kindliness.
“No, that’s really OK,” said Tiffany, “I’m gonna be late.”
“Nonsense,” Green countered. “We can’t have you walking around the
halls looking like that.” And he pulled a packet from his desk drawer. It was
several of those moist towlettes, like little napkins soaked in antiseptic cleaner.
“Here, hold still, and let me clean you off.” Knowing what was coming,
Tiffany took a step back. She didn’t want her English teacher pawing her tits;
despite all the terrible things done to her over the last few days, she still had her
dignity.
“I said hold still!” hissed Green, “That’s a goddamn order! Put your hands
at your sides, bitch!” The trembling teen obeyed. Green extended a towlette and
begin to dab at her right breast. The coldness and wetness soaked straight
through the thin cotton and, since she had been forbidden to wear a bra, hit her
young nipple, causing it to spring to life in full, glorious erection. As her nipple
hardened, Tiffany looked down and realized the moisture was soaking the
blouse all over her breast, causing the fabric to become nearly transparent!
“Please, Mr. Green, I’m gonna be late! Oh God, people are gonna see!”
The poor girl, who had already endured so much, was becoming more and
more frantic. “Don’t move a muscle!” barked Green. “I’ll write you a fucking
pass.” He pulled out a new towlette and began the same process on her left
breast, with the same result: a perky, extended nipple and thin, wet, white
fabric. Anyone could see both of Tiffany’s perfect teenaged breasts and their
hard nipples, and the halls were full of her fellow students changing classes.
“There, we got all that nasty chalk off,” Green mocked her with a sick
smile. He scribbled out a pass for her tardiness to her next class,” and then said,
matter-of-factly, “When you go to your next class, Miss Daniels, why don’t you
carry your books by your side under your arm rather than hugged in front of
your chest. In fact, consider that an order. If you try to hide that pretty little
chest, I’ll report you to Principal White for disobedience.” Tiffany knew what
that meant. She would just have to hope she could make it there quickly. The
halls were still packed as Tiffany scurried along, her breasts in plain view,
jiggling wildly in their braless state. As her nippled rubbed the inside of the
tight blouse, they stayed erect. Every student in the hall stopped and stared.
Some laughed, many pointed, as the wealthy young woman, named for the
founder of the school, walked rapidly along.
“Hey, Tiff, I like the new look!” called a male voice. “It’s Tit, not Tiff,”
yelled another. Raucous laughter burst from a pack. Her face burned with
shame. This couldn’t be happening to her, she thought. What a horrible
nightmare. Several boys started a chant, mocking her cheerleader status:
Gimme a T! Gimme an I! Gimme a T! Gimme an S! What’s that spell? Tits!
Who’s got ’em? Tiffany! God, were there no teacher to save her from this?
Tiffany was almost in tears when she reached study hall. She burst into the
room, made straight for her desk and sat down. She choked back tears. Her life
was a living hell.
The rest of the day passed without major incident for Tiffany. Her blouse
dried in study hall, and her nipples finally returned to their normal state. The
ants were still driving her nuts, but many of them had died from being squished
between her butt and the chairs she sat in. The ones that remained, though,
were the worst, for the they were the ones crawling deep inside her pussy and
ass.
Mr. White had not given Tiffany any instructions as to what was happen to
her at the end of the day, although she thought she was due to have the ants
removed. So she was not surprised when, during her last class of the day, a
student “runner” from the office came in with a sealed envelope for Tiffany.
“Report to my office at the final bell,” read the note inside. Tiffany could
tell White and the other male teachers were being careful not to leave any
evidence that could incriminate them. A few minutes after the last bell rang,

Tiffany was once again in Principal White’s office, the place where she had
begun her day in hell. White again shut the door.
“How was your day, Tiffany-Bitch?” he asked maliciously.
“Hellish,” she answered honestly.
“The correct answer would be, ‘Hellish, SIR,” he corrected.
“Yes, sir,” she responded.
“I imagine you’re anxious to get those ants out of your pussy and ass,” the
evil principal said. “But I’m concerned it might be difficult to get the ones that
have crawled up really high and out of reach. So I bought you something to
help.” He pulled out an enormous black dildo, about 10 inches long and as big
around as a paper-towel tube. Tiffany’s mouth hung open as she stared at it.
“No, bitch, it’s not for your mouth,” White said, “although you might want
to get it wet there first. It’s to crush the ants. Your fingers won’t reach far
enough. So you insert your new little friend here all the way up your pussy,
then all the way up your ass, and use it to crush the ants. I’m afraid that if you
don’t use this, you’ll never kill them all, and tomorrow you’ll still have ants
crawling inside you. You don’t want that, do you?” The dejected, dazed
cheerleader just shook her head. “So take your new friend here and put him in
your backpack. Go on home and find yourself a little privacy and get rid of the
ants. Heck, be glad I’m not ordering you to do it right here on my office floor. It
would make a great addition to the videotape: Sweet little virgin Tiffany
Daniels fucks herself up the ass with a big black dildo. Yeah, that would be a
popular offering on the Internet,” he chuckled. Tiffany reluctantly took the
dildo and stuck it in her backpack.
“Then once you get rid of the ants, we thought it might be nice to go
shopping tonight,” White continued. “So tell Mommy and Daddy you have to
come back to school after dinner to work on a Homecoming project. Be here at
7:30 p.m., and we’ll meet you in the parking lot. We’ll have you back by 9:30
so you can get home and get your beauty sleep.”
“May I ask a question, sir?” Tiffany was looking down at the floor
submissively, which White liked.
“Yes, you may, asslicker.”
“Where are we going tonight? And who all is going?
“Well, you’re the central attraction, of course,” White said. “And there will
be myself, and Mr. Brown and Mr. Green, and maybe some others depending
on their availability. We’re going to the mall and pick out some new clothes for
you, something more in line with what you were wearing today. I’m sure as hell
not gonna spend any more of my own money buying you slut outfits like this
one.”
“So should I bring money, sir?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” White said ominously. “You’ll be paying for
the clothes, but not with money.” He smiled at her and winked. Tiffany felt
sick. She didn’t know what was in store, only that it wasn’t good at all.

Chapter Five: The One With The Rodgers and Hammerstein

Tiffany tore up the stairs to her bedroom, frantically locking the door
behind her. She stripped off the hateful slut outfit and started ripping at the duct
tape.
“Ooh! Ooh! Owwww!” she moaned as the tape pulled away from her skin,
pulling tiny golden hairs out with it. The tape around her tummy was bad, but
the tape around her young thighs was even worse. Finally she was able to tear
off her panties. She desperately pushed a finger up her pussy, trying to fish out
the ants. After a few minutes writhing around on her back on her bed, her legs
spread wide and one finger, then two fingers, up her cunt, the 16-year-old
realized she wasn’t able to get to all of the nasty little insects. She pulled the
large black dildo from her backpack and positioned it at the pink, pouting lips
of her pussy. Just as she sank it in about two inches, there was a knock at her
door.
“Tiffany? Are you OK?” Jesus, thought Tiffany, it was her younger sister
Stephanie.
“Go away!” yelled Tiffany.
“What’s wrong? Can I come in?” asked Stephanie.
“No, go away!”
“Why not?” Tiffany’s mind raced.
“Uh, no, I’m having female problems,” Tiffany replied, using their code
word for that time of the month.
“OK,” said Stephanie and walked away. Tiffany rammed the dildo home.
God, it felt good, she thought, like scratching an itch you’ve been needing to
scratch all day. She pulled it out and sank it into her sweet virgin (well,
technically virgin) pussy over and over and over again. She could feel her
juices start to flow, lubricating the walls of her vagina. She was barely aware
that her clit had popped out as she slid the rubber monster deep inside, over and
over. The ants were all dead, but the wealthy cheerleader kept fucking herself,
closer and closer to an orgasm.
“Ohhhhhhh, yesssssss,” she moaned softly, not wanting to alert Stephanie
or her mom. Her large perfect breasts heaved on her chest, her nipples poked
up, hard, she splayed her knees even wider, and rammed the dildo home. She
reached down, and as soon as she touched her swollen pink clit she exploded in
a delicious teenaged orgasm. After she caught her breath, she became aware
that she still had ants up her ass. She pulled out the dildo, now slick with
lubrication, and gently pushed it into her own rectum. Although she had
masturbated before, she’d never stuck anything up her own ass. It hurt a little,
but also felt kind of nice. She felt very full.
As she began to work up some speed with the dildo in her ass, crushing
and killing the ants her principal had placed there, she realized she wanted to
come again. So again she started to fondle her own clit, rolling it in her fingers.
Heat seemed to be building inside her body, and soon she came again, even
harder than before.
“Oh God,” she thought, suddenly ashamed of herself. “Did I really just do
that, masturbate with a black dildo up my bottom? Oh, but it felt so good.” She
allowed herself the luxury of mentally drifting for a few minutes, enjoying the
heavy feel of her recently satisfied body. But then she jerked, realizing she had
to hide the dildo and face her family. And even worse, her principal was
expecting her to meet him for a trip to the mall. She was dreading the
encounter. If she had known what she was in store for, she would have dreaded
it even more.
Promptly at 7:30 that night, Tiffany pulled into the Daniels High School
parking lot in her new Miata, a present from daddy for her 16th birthday. The
lot was empty except for a few cars at the far end, where she saw some men
standing. She drove over and got out of the car. Roger White, the Daniels
principal, was there, as was John Brown, the math teacher who had originally
caught her cheating, drugged her and videotaped her, starting her horrible
descent into being a sexual slave to these depraved men. And there was Tom
Green, the English teacher who had humiliated her earlier that day. The fourth
man, though, surprised her: Joe Black, Old Joe, the school custodian. Old Joe
was only in his ’50s, but to the smug young teens of Daniels High, he might as
well have been in his ’80s. He was a large black man, big but not fat, just
hulking and heavily muscled. He rarely said a word to the students except
“Excuse me” when he needed to get by with his broom or mop.
“Right on time, Little Miss Cheerleader Cunt,” sneered Mr. White. Again
with the horrible names, thought Tiffany. This all would be bad enough but it’s
so much worse when they call me these names.
“Looking good, Tiffany,” said Mr. Green, eyeing her up and down. She
wore sneakers, jeans and a white short-sleeved blouse. Old Joe licked his lips.
The janitor leered at her, and she shuddered. It was bad enough to be the toy of
these teachers, but to have a dirty old janitor doing it too, that was just too
yucky.
“Why is he here?” she asked White, referring to Old Joe.
“Why, Old Joe here is our best buddy, aren’t you Joe?” White answered,
and put his arm around Joe’s shoulder. Joe smiled at Tiffany. “About 10 years
ago, when you were just in first grade, Tiffany, I was fucking a student in my
office one night. Chrissy, I believe her name was. Anyway, I had my cock up
her ass and in walks Old Joe. There to empty my wastebaskets and vacuum. He
and I pretty much decided that either he could report me and get me fired, or he
could wait until I was done and then fuck Chrissy up the ass, too. So when I got
done, he took his turn. We kind of bonded that night, Old Joe and I, and we’ve
been working as a team ever since. These other guys have joined the club as the
years have gone by.”
Tiffany barely heard most of the principal’s story. At the words “cock up
her ass,” she had frozen in fear. The luscious young student had heard whispers
among her girlfriends that some guys – and even, occasionally, some girls –
liked anal sex, but she had never heard it referred to so brutally. And if these
men had done it to another student, would they do it to her? Was she going to
eventually get fucked up her virgin little ass by all four men? Was that what
was in store for her?
“And now, off to the mall we go!” the principal chortled, breaking
Tiffany’s reverie. The men opened the doors of the Lincoln Navigator and
motioned for Tiffany to get into the back seat.
“But first,” said Old Joe, “let’s get those jeans off, missy. Panties too.”
“Oh, no, please don’t make me do that,” Tiffany whined.
“You just don’t get it, sweetheart,” said Mr. White. “Have you forgotten
that little video we have of you? What will Mommy and Daddy think? And all
your friends? I can pretty well guess what all the perverts on the Internet will
think when they see that sweet innocent little face with a cock stuffed in its
mouth-hole, complete with your name, address, and phone number. You’ll be
the most popular girl in Texas. It’ll be like you’re a dog in heat and they just
opened the doors of the kennel!” Tiffany shuddered at the gross image, and
sagged in defeat. It was only she and the men in the parking lot, so she slipped
off her sneakers, then her jeans, then her panties. She felt horribly exposed and
vulnerable outdoors, so she quickly climbed into the backseat of the large SUV.
“Might as well do the blouse and bra, too, sweet cheeks,” said Old Joe.
“Sweet cheeks?” echoed White. “Why Joe, we don’t call our friend Tiffany
a name like sweet cheeks. We call her fuck meat, or ass-licker, or juicy-cunt, or
shit-for-brains.” The men all laughed raucously. Tiffany blushed furiously.
“Please, may I ask a favor?”
“Sure, smegma-breath,” said Green.
“Would you just not call me horrible names? All this is bad enough, but
could you just not call me names?”
“Awwwww!” the men jeered in unison. “Poor little Tiffany got her feelings
hurt!” White climbed into the driver’s seat, with Green beside him. Old Joe got
in on Tiffany’s right, Mr. Brown on her left. The nude girl huddled between
them, aware that all of their eyes were drinking in her lovely 16-year-old body.
The night air was chilly, and her nipples had sprung to attention, further
betraying her, making it appear she was sexually aroused.
“Tell you what, Tiffany,” said White. “We’ll play a little game on the way
to the mall. If you win the game, we won’t call you names any more. You have
my word. If you lose the game, we’ll keep right on calling you whatever we
like. Seeing as how we have total power over you anyway, what do you have to
lose?” What, indeed, she thought. She might as well try.
“What’s the game?” she asked meekly.
“Remember last year when you were in the school production of “Sound of
Music?” Such a nice musical,” White said. “Even though you didn’t play Liesel,
I’m sure you heard her sing in rehearsals over and over. We’d like for you to
serenade us on the way to the mall by singing that song “I Am Sixteen, Going
on Seventeen.”
“That’s all I have to do?” Tiffany asked nervously.
“That’s it. Just get through the whole song one time, perfectly, without
stopping or making any mistakes, and we’ll stop calling you names.” This will
be easy, Tiffany thought. I’m sure I can remember all the words, and Liesel’s
part is really only a few lines, cause it’s a duet. “But we’re got to make it
challenging,” said Joe. “Put your hand behind your back. Without even
thinking, Tiffany leaned forward in the back seat and placed her hands behind
her. In a flash, Joe pulled out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed her wrists. Her
arms were now pinned back at the shoulders, her hands trapped.
“Stop! Oh God please, take them off!” Tiffany shouted in panic.
“Shut up!” yelled White. “Listen, girlie, and listen good. If we get stopped
by the cops, or if anything happens to us, in any way shape or form, whether it’s
your fault or not, all of guys have had it. Our careers are over. And the only
satisfaction we’ll have is making sure your life is hell. So if anything happens,
my friend mails those videos out and posts them on the Net. So it’s in your
fuckin’ best interest to make sure that we don’t get caught! Got it, bitch?”
Tiffany nodded. She was feeling horribly numb again. The logic was
inescapable. She was trapped as the toy of these men and could do nothing
about it.
“Let’s get comfortable,” said Joe. He grabbed Tiffany’s naked right leg and
pulled it into his lap. He then crossed his legs over her leg, trapping it. On her
left, Brown did the same thing. The result, even before White had started the
Navigator, was that Tiffany was nearly immobilized in the backseat. Her hands
and arms were cuffed behind her with the weight of her body leaning back
against them, and her legs were spread wide and held pinned by each muscular
man on her sides. She squirmed and wiggled, but could do nothing. She also
noticed, for the first time, that the windows of the vehicle were darkly smoked,
and no one could possibly see inside.
“Here we go,” White said, starting the SUV and pulling out of the parking
lot. “Any time you want to start singing, be our guest,” said Brown with a
giggle.
Tiffany took a deep breath and began: “I am 16, going on 17…” Old Joe’s
right hand shot out and grabbed a hold of one perky nipple and started
massaging it. “Oh God, stop!” shouted Tiffany. Joe kept up his manipulation of
the nipple, which was growing harder.
“Come on, we want a song!” shouted White from the front seat. Tiffany
started over.
“I am 16, going on 17…” Mr. Brown’s right hand began to rub up and
down Tiffany’s bare thigh. She kept singing. “I know that I’m naive….” Brown
reached around with his left hand and started to tickle the underside of her
breast, while inching his right up until it reached her pussy. “Oh, please, I can’t
do this!” Tiffany wailed.
“Fine, then, little lesbo bitch,” said White. “She doesn’t want to sing for us,
guys, so it’s back to name-calling.” The teenaged cheerleader knew this was
just a horrible game to all of them, but maybe if she got through the song she
could at least have that small victory. She steeled herself against the roaming,
prodding hands of her two teachers as they explored her writhing young body,
and started again.
“I am 16, going on 17, I know that I’m naïve, Fellows I meet may tell me
I’m sweet, And willingly OH! OH!” She couldn’t help herself. Joe’s hand had
drifted down to her pussy and he had plunged a fat finger deep inside her. She
hadn’t realized she was still slick with juice from her recent session with the
dildo, and Joe’s finger quickly slid all the way in. The poor girl’s hormones
started to flow. She could feel herself starting to get horny as Joe pulled his
finger out and plunged it back in, finger-fucking the confused girl.
It’s my only chance at self-respect with these fuckers, she thought to
herself, and began again. This time she got as far as the line “Totally
unprepared am I, to face a world of men,” when Brown leaned over and kissed
her neck, right behind the ear. No man had ever kissed her there, and it sent a
shiver of delight through her young body. She didn’t cry out, but she stopped
singing for an instant.
“Nope, doesn’t count!” White called out from the front seat. “We said you
had to sing it perfectly.” Tiffany started over. Joe’s finger continued to frig in
and out of her pussy, feeling better and better. Brown continued to kiss her
neck, which felt incredibly good, and both men were pawing her breasts and
nipples. She had barely sung a few words when Joe placed his thumb against
her clit and began to rub.
“Ohhhhh, please, stop, stop, don’t do this to me!” she cried out. She felt so
alone, so exposed, so humiliated. She was trying to just complete one simple
task, sing a song she knew well, and she couldn’t even do that. Her mind was
confused, but her body wasn’t. Every inch of her was responding to the caresses
and touches of the men who had pinned her down in the backseat.
“I am 16, going on 17,” she started again. Joe and John Brown let her sing,
keeping their touches light, till she got to the lines “I need someone older and
wiser, telling me what to do,” and then Brown bent his head down and placed
his mouth over her erect nipple and started to tongue it, while Joe pushed a
second finger up inside her.
“Uhhhhhhh,” Tiffany moaned. Her head rolled back against the seat, her
eyes closed. She was lost in a delirium of overwhelming sexual desire.
“You want us to keep doing this?” whispered Brown.
“Oh, God, I don’t know,” moaned Tiffany. “No. Don’t. Stop.”
“Don’t stop?” asked Black with a nasty smile. His fingers were churning
inside the tormented girl, his thumb expertly manipulating her clit, which was
now pink and throbbing. Tiffany’s hips started rotating, almost without her
knowing it, as she thrust her pelvis forward into Black’s hand, while Brown
continued kissing her hard little nipples.
“Since Tiffany doesn’t seem up to singing,” said White from the driver’s
seat, “you guys mind if I offer a little tune? It’s Rolf’s part from the same song,
and kind of appropriate.” The principal launched into the song in a strong,
forceful baritone: “You are sixteen going on seventeen Baby, it’s time to think
Better beware and canny and careful Baby, you’re on the brink You are sixteen
going on seventeen, Fellows will fall in line Eager young lads and roues and
cads Will offer you food and wine Totally unprepared are you to face a world
of men Timid and shy and scared are you Of things beyond your ken You need
someone older and wiser Telling you what to do, I am seventeen going on
eighteen I’ll take care of you!”
Tiffany vaguely heard the deep male voice, telling her she needed someone
telling her what to do. She had stopped even trying to sing her part. Her body
had taken over, and she was inching closer and closer to orgasm. She moaned,
thrust her tender young breasts out, humped her pussy frantically against
Black’s fingers.
“Oh yes! Oh yes!” she cried out. She teetered on the verge of a powerful
teenaged orgasm.
“Woops, here we are fellows!” called out White as he turned into the
shopping mall. “Time to look sharp.” Black and Brown immediately pulled
themselves off of the writhing, humping schoolgirl, which took more discipline
than they’d ever thought possible. Tiffany didn’t know what had happened. One
moment she had been on the brink of cumming, then everything had stopped.
“Please?” she asked plaintively.
“Please what, baby?” asked Joe, teasing.
“Please don’t stop what you were doing,” she said softly. If her hands
hadn’t been cuffed behind her, Tiffany thought, she would have finished herself
off right there in front of them. God, everything had felt so good. Her heart was
pounding, she was shaking and sweaty, she wanted to cum so damn bad!
“I don’t think so,” White ordered.
“Pleeeeeeese,” begged Tiffany.
“Let’s hear what you want,” White said briskly.
“I want to, you know,” Tiffany said. She knew they knew. She was beyond
shame, she decided. She had to cum. “I want to have an orgasm,” she begged.
“Maybe later,” White said coldly. Tiffany lifted her head and opened her
eyes, and looked right into the lens of the video camcorder. Green, in the
passenger seat of the Navigator, had been taping her the whole time. “Smile,”
her teacher said, “you’re on Candid Camera.” Tiffany wanted to cry. “Joe, get
those balls into her like we planned,” White said. Black reached into a bag on
the floor and pulled out a small box, extracting two small metal objects slightly
smaller than Ping-Pong balls.
“Here ya go, babe, just so you don’t get that empty feeling inside,” Joe
said, and pushed one Benwa ball, then the other after it, up inside Tiffany’s
swollen, sopping wet pussy. They were cold, but strangely, Tiffany didn’t mind.
She was slowly getting used to having something inside her young pussy.
“Those will have a real interesting effect on you when you’re walking around in
the mall,” White said, and all the men laughed. Tiffany didn’t understand but
knew, with dread, that she would eventually.
“Let’s help her get dressed guys,” White added. Tiffany was still horny and
wanted to cum so badly, but she had no choice, with her legs still trapped and
her hands cuffed. She wasn’t going to be allowed to cum just yet, and she still
had to endure whatever they had planned for her in the mall. She looked out the
darkened SUV window and could see the bright light malls of the mall in the
distance.
“And just to remind you, you never did manage to sing the song all the
way through, you little slut-monkey,” Green mocked her from the front seat as
he stowed the camcorder in his shoulder bag.
“Yeah, dog-fucker,” said Brown. “This is gonna be a shopping trip you’ll
never forget, babe,” Black whispered in her ear. The teenager shuddered, partly
from the lust that still boiled in her hard young body, partly from pure fear.

Chapter Six: The One About The High Price of High Heels

The words still echoed in Tiffany’s head: “You need someone older and
wiser, telling you what to do.” Sweet God, thought the befuddled, horny
teenager. Her tormentors had even taken something innocent and precious to
her, “The Sound of Music,” which she’d performed in last year, and turned it
into something she would now think of only with shame and humiliation. She
was being told what to do by men older than her, but not the way the song
meant.
“May I ask a question, please?” she asked meekly as Joe Black released
her from the handcuffs, freeing her trapped arms.
“Sure thing, slut,” said Mr. Brown.
“What are those things you put, uh, you know…” She couldn’t bear to bring
herself to say where she meant. “You know, inside me,” she finished.
“You mean stuffed up your little teenaged pussy?” responded Brown.
“Those are Benwa balls, baby. God, you really are such a child! They’re hollow
metal balls, partially filled with mercury. Women use them to masturbate. They
fit snugly up inside that pussy of yours, and when you walk, they shift their
center of gravity over and over, stimulating the inside of your pussy. The
sensations, I’m told, are quite delicious.” Tiffany shuddered at the thought of
these awful foreign objects inside her most private place.
“The thing is, as I understand, a woman will usually sit in a rocking chair
when she has the Benwas in place and rock and play with her clit. The result is
a spectacular orgasm for the woman. For you, though, it’s likely to be mostly
just an exercise in frustration, cause you’re going to be walking around the
mall. You won’t be able to finger yourself to get yourself off, although if you
want to, we probably won’t stop you, so long as it’s some place nice and public,
like the food court. Mainly, as we see it, you’ll just be in a heightened state of
horniness for our little shopping trip.”
Brown smiled diabolically. Tiffany, stunned at how much trouble they
were going to, just looked down and bit her lip. The men helped her back into
her clothes, all except for her bra, which they told her she didn’t need.
“Those 16-year-old tits are so perfectly perky you should never wear a bra,
babe,” said Joe Black. “They’ll get more bounce that way when you walk. Guys

like that!” Finally Tiffany was dressed – jeans, blouse, sneakers, no bra – and
they all got out of the SUV. She realized she had no idea where they were, that
during the long ride of torment she had been paying attention to what was
being done to her in the backseat rather than where they were going.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“This is Southlands Mall, in Bernard,” said Principal White. “About 30
miles away from town. We figured there’s a lot less chance of being spotted and
recognized here than if we went to the mall back in town. Last thing any of us
needs is to be spotted hanging around outside school hours with our school’s
prettiest cheerleader, particularly when she’s doing what you’re going to be
doing here at Southlands.”
“Please, sirs, I’m begging you, can we just go home?” Tiffany implored.
She was trembling with anxiety, and still a little lust from being brought so
close to orgasm by the men and then stopped right before her climax.
“Of course not, you little dog-fucker. We’ve gone to a lot of trouble to set
this up,” said White. “Now listen carefully, because once we get inside, I don’t
want to have to be repeating these directions for you over and over. You can
make this simple, or you can make this complicated. The simple way is you do
exactly what we say for the next hour, no questions, no tears, no trying to alert
mall security, and after an hour, we go home. The hard way is you give us any
shit, or fail to follow our instructions precisely. If that’s the case, then my friend
starts sending out those videos. We’ll probably be able to add a few more
minutes onto the part with the cock-sucking and the masturbating and the
appearance of drug abuse of little Tiffany, naked, singing “I am Sixteen, Going
on Seventeen,” if Mr. Green here got a nice tight close-up that crops out the
men to your sides. You understand so far?”
“Yes sir,” Tiffany said quietly.
“So you’re going to get yourself some new clothes tonight, stuff you can
wear to school from now on. Here’s how it will work. We’ll see something in a
store window and tell you what we want you to get. You go into the store, and
one or more of us will go in with you, but we will pretend like we’re not
together. You don’t acknowledge us, we don’t acknowledge you. But we’ll be
keeping an eye on you to make sure you keep our deal. You try on the item or
items and make sure they fit. Whether you like them or not is irrelevant. If
we’re doing our job, you’ll probably hate ’em, but tough shit. You take them to
the cashier, who we’ll have scoped out in advance, and who will be male. Tell
him you want to buy this, but you don’t have any money, and could you pay for
it instead with a blow job.” White paused to watch her reaction. The color
drained from Tiffany’s beautiful young face.
“What?” she shrieked, forgetting where she was. “I can’t! I won’t! I’ll
scream for help!” They were asking to offer oral sex to strange men in a
shopping mall.
“You scream for help, missy,” said the girl’s principal, “and out go the
tapes, complete with name, address and phone number. By the way, isn’t your
daddy running for City Council? We better make sure we add his opponent,
and the news media, to the list of recipients. Make a helluva of a campaign
issue! Charles Daniel’s Teenage Daughter in Sex and Drug Video Scandal!
What a headline!”
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” shouted Tiffany, holding her hands over her ears as if
she could block out the torture. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it!”
“That a girl,” said White. “So as I was saying, you offer the clerk or the
cashier or whoever the blow job. Maybe there’s a backroom you can use,
maybe a dressing room, maybe you have to go to the mall men’s room and find
a stall. Picture that. Tiffany Daniels, the cock-teasing princess of Daniels High,
down on her bare knees on a men’s room floor, swallowing a stranger’s jism. It
will certainly be in your best interest, once you get started, to make it nice and
quick. Suck his cock, swallow his cum, and meet back up with us. Simple as
that,” concluded the principal. Tiffany could barely speak. She started to
hyperventilate in panic and outrage. She wanted to cry, or run, or kill these
men. None of those was an option. Her only option was to do as they told her.
“Give me your purse,” ordered Mr. White. He took the girl’s purse and
gave it to Mr. Green, who stuffed it into his shoulder bag with the video
camera. “Now you have no money, no charge cards, no ID. You’re not Tiffany
Daniels, spoiled little rich girl any more. You’re the Blow job Queen of
Southlands Mall. Let’s go,” said Mr. White jauntily, and Tiffany and the four
men walked to the mall.
Almost immediately, the sexy cheerleader felt the Benwa balls start to
move in her pussy. It was a strange sensation, really rather pleasant. She was
still wet from her masturbation session with the dildo and then the finger-
fucking in the back of the Lincoln Navigator, and the slick balls slipped and
tumbled inside of her. Their first stop in the mall was an upscale shoe store.
White, who was clearly running the show tonight, told her to stop, and the
cheerleader and her tormentors all looked in the window.
“I kinda like that pair there,” said Old Joe, pointing to a pair of sexy black
open-toed pumps with 5-inch stiletto heels. The price tag in front of them read
$79.95.
“Nice choice, Joe,” said the principal. “But do you think a blow job even
from a stone-fuckin’ fox like Miss Daniels here is worth $80?” There was no
one else standing nearby, and the men were talking about her like she was some
sort of street prostitute! Tiffany burned with shame.
“Oh, easily,” said Joe. “I’m sure she lacks a certain expertise, since I
haven’t sampled her yet, but just look at those lips. The chick looks so much
like that Kournikova girl that plays tennis, that’s worth a lot right there.”
“Well I’ve had a blow job from her,” chimed in Brown, the math teacher
who started it all, “and while she’s not a seasoned pro yet, when my dick started
to spurt down her throat, I would have gladly paid $500 on the spot. Course, I
was getting it for free!” He laughed, and the other men laughed with him.
Tiffany wanted to die.
“OK,” said White, turning to Tiffany. “Go in there and get those shoes.
You know what to do. We’ll be watching you. And do exactly as you’ve been
told, or the whole world gets a special video treat starting tomorrow.” The
cheerleader swallowed hard. Her stomach felt like lead. She walked into the
shoe store, still feeling the metal balls churning and churning inside her pussy.
“Hi, excuse me,” she said to the salesman. He was a middle-aged man,
about her father’s age, but obviously just a clerk in a mall shoe-store at night: a
little dumpy, dressed in polyester, no wedding ring. His pin-on name tag said
Jim.
“May I help you, miss?” His eyes glittered as he took in the ravishing teen
girl before him.
“I’d like to try on that, uh, pair of shoes in the window,” Tiffany said
nervously, pointing. After Tiffany gave her size, the clerk went to get a pair
from the window, and she sat down. White and Green had entered the shoe
store and were standing at a display, pretending to be engrossed. Jim returned
with the shoes and tried them on her feet. Tiffany stood up – Whoa! They were
by far the tallest heels she had ever had on. She swayed precariously and
grabbed the clerk’s shoulder for balance. He grinned and quickly slipped his
arm around her waist, as if to steady her, but actually just to brush up against
that firm teeny flesh.
“Take a few steps and see how you like them,” the clerk said. He was so
engrossed in Tiffany that he hadn’t even noticed the two male “customers.”
Tiffany took a few wobbling steps. Normally a healthy five foot seven, she was
an Amazon in the shoes, six feet tall. She could feel the muscles in her legs
moving differently than they ever had before, stretching and pulling, and she
also felt the Benwa balls inside of her moving in a more stimulating way. The
heels changed the way she walked, she realized, causing her to thrust her pelvis
out, arch her back to maintain her balance. She was starting to walk more like a
provocative slut and less like the normal teenaged girl she still desperately
wanted to remain.
As she wobbled around the store, getting used to the high heels, her large,
lovely breasts bounced more than usual in her blouse. Freed of their bra, the
nipples rubbed against the cotton fabric and the stimulation began to make
them erect. Soon her teenaged nipples were poking straight out through the
shirt, with no bra to hold them back. All the while, the Benwa balls stuffed up
inside her rolled and rolled, a constant reminder of her horniness. She walked
back to Jim and spoke to him in a low voice.
“Can I talk to you privately, please?” she whispered. Jeez, thought Jim,
what’s up with this chick? The middle-aged clerk saw her nipples poking out,
obviously braless, and now she was coming on all husky- voiced. He took her
by the elbow and steered her toward the back of the store, with Tiffany
hobbling and wobbling along, trying to keep up.
“I, uh, mister, uh,” she stammered. She could barely make herself speak
the unspeakable words. But her two tormentors were still in the store, stealing
covert glances at her, and she knew what the penalty would be if she didn’t
follow through: not just humiliation in front of her friends and family, but
Internet postings of her name and address that could get her stalked and raped.
The beleaguered cheerleader forced herself to do what she must. “I don’t have
money for these shoes, but I really want them,” she blurted out. “If you’ll let me
have them, I’ll, uh, you know…” She stopped again.
“No, I don’t know,” said Jim, but his cock was beginning to get an idea. It
stirred in his slacks. What was this little slut up to?
“I’ll, uh, make you come.” Yes! thought Jim. Thank you Jesus!
“I think we can work something out,” said Jim. “Excuse me, gentleman,”
he shouted at the two men hovering in the front of the store. “I have to close up
for a few minutes. Out ya go!” Mr. White and Mr. Green exchanged smiles and
willingly left. Jim slid the glass front of the store closed and locked it. “I’m all
yours, little lady,” he leered. “Now more specifically, what did you have in
mind?”
“Can we go in the back room?” Tiffany said quietly, close to tears. Jim
steered the trembling schoolgirl into a backroom, and unbuckled his belt. His
pants fell to his ankles, and Tiffany could see the outline of his erection
throbbing in his jockeys. Tiffany took a deep breath. She could either drag this
out and take all night, or get it over with and get home, safe in her own bed.
There was only one way out. She dropped to her knees in front of the clerk,
pulled his shorts down, and engulfed his cock in her warm teenaged mouth.
“Oh yeah, baby, suck that rod,” the salesman said. “You can have all the
shoes you want anytime you want, baby.” It was the first time young Tiffany
had given a blow job on her own. Her first time she had been drugged and her
mouth little more than a receptacle. The second time, her principal had fucked
her mouth and forced her. Now it was up to her to figure out what to do. It
didn’t take long for the girl to learn. The salesman held the sides of her head
and started sliding his cock in and out of her mouth.
“Use your tongue, baby, and lick the underside,” he ordered. She did,
running her pink tongue along the bottom of his shaft and then around its thick
purple head. “Oh yeah, baby, that’s it.” Tiffany felt the cock moving in and out,
sometimes pushing so far into her mouth that she almost gagged. She didn’t
even think to use her hands, and it didn’t occur to Jim to tell her, because it
wasn’t necessary. Jim had had three blow jobs in his entire life, and all three of
those from hookers, and to have a sexy young girl come into his store, drop to
her knees and start sucking him off was beyond his wildest sexual fantasy. He
felt the sperm building in his balls. On her end, Tiffany felt the head of Jim’s
cock start to swell. He was pushing in harder and faster now, and his grip on
her head tightened. Her knees hurt from the concrete storeroom floor, and her
humiliation knew no bounds. She wished the earth would swallow her whole.
“Here it comes, slut!” shouted Jim, and suddenly the cock in her mouth
erupted, shooting stream after stream of thick white jism onto her tongue and
straight down her throat. She started to spit it out, but remembered somehow in
the back of her mind her orders were to swallow, so she started gulping. It had
been more than a week since Jim had masturbated, and he had a huge reserve
of salty semen for the kneeling cheerleader. She swallowed over and over,
eight, nine, ten times, and finally Jim’s cock was quiet. She arose from her
kneeling position awkwardly, stood again on the high heels. Jim pulled his
pants back up.
“Could I interest you in another pair of shoes?” he asked with big grin.
“God no!” Tiffany blurted. Now that she had followed her orders, she
wanted to get out of the shoe store so badly she could scream. She walked
quickly toward the front of the store and Jim, reluctantly, let her out. As he
watched her walk away, he wondered if this was where those letters to the
editors of Penthouse came from. And here all along he thought they were made
up!

Chapter Seven: The One Where Our Girl Gets Malled

As soon as Tiffany left the shoe store, White fell in right beside her.
“I see you got the shoes,” he noted with approval. “Nice job. Now let me
smell your breath.” Tiffany was too dazed and befuddled with all the demands
and orders that she didn’t even pause to wonder about the strange request. She
opened her mouth and exhaled.
“Ah yes, the smell of cum in a young girl’s mouth,” White said quietly.
“Nothing like it. Better than napalm in the morning.” Tiffany had no idea what
her principal was talking about. She just wanted to get this horrible trip to the
mall over with. The other men joined them.
“We found some nice clothes over at the Gap,” said Joe Black as the four
walked along.
“Lead on,” said White, and soon Tiffany found herself walking into the
Gap, this time with the Daniels school janitor, a man she normally would not
even acknowledge, but who now controlled her as surely as if she were a
marionette and he the puppeteer.
“There’s a pile of clothes I gathered up in the far right rear corner,” Black
whispered to her. “There’s six items. Take the black skirt off the top, try it on in
the dressing room, and wear it out. Get the other clothes and find the clerk
named Ralph. Make him your offer.” Black turned and walked back out of the
store; he knew that even in the ’90s you just didn’t see a black man and a pretty
white girl chumming around together in a suburban mall at night.
Tiffany found the pile right where Joe had assembled them, took them into
a dressing room and stripped it off her jeans. She pulled out the black skirt and
was puzzled – surely it was way too small! Her teenaged hips were not wide,
but they were certainly voluptuous and full. No way she would fit into this! She
pulled the skirt up and found it was made of Spandex, and stretched to fit. She
tugged it over her thighs, up to her waist. Jeez, this sucker was tight! But
finally it was in place.
The black Spandex skirt was a micro-mini. When Tiffany looked in the
dressing room mirror, she couldn’t believe her eyes. It clung to her like a large
black rubber band. That’s practically what it was, anyway. It came down to just
two inches below her crotch, and the bottom moons of the cheeks of her ass
were half an inch away from being plainly visible. Still, she knew what she had
to do. She pulled the black high-heeled pumps back on, gathered up her old
jeans and the other new clothes and went off to find Ralph.
“Just get through this, just get through this,” she kept telling herself. Every
person in the Gap stopped what they were doing and stared at the stunning
teenager as she strolled through the store. Inside her white blouse, her
unfettered breasts bounced freely, showing off the hint of darkness around each
nipple. The micro-mini clung to her ass and crotch as it if was spray-painted
on. Her long bare legs were tanned and magnificent. And the high heels made
her walk with a hooker’s strut, rolling her hips and pelvis. (What no observer
could see were the Benwa balls turning and churning inside Tiffany’s pussy,
ratcheting up her awareness of her own sexuality with every step). She looked
like she was auditioning for a Penthouse video.
“Yo, babe, check it out. Nice walk!” called a black teenager. Tiffany
ignored him. When she approached the check-out counter, she spied the clerk
named Ralph. This one, at least, was someone closer to her own age, maybe
about 18, and not bad-looking. He wore khakis and a polo shirt, and was decent
enough looking that under other circumstances, Tiffany might have even talked
to him.
“Hi,” she said. “I need to talk to you privately for a minute.”
“Sure thing, ma’am” said the boy. Tiffany’s stomach fluttered a bit. He had
a sexy voice, and kind eyes, and she was horny, and she knew what she was
going to do to this boy in just a few minutes, and that thought, somehow, made
her hornier. What had been sick and disgusting back with the shoe store clerk
was now seeming not so terrible. If only she could get off too! But that would
take more time, and more explaining, and she couldn’t imagine what she would
tell the boy about the metal balls inside her.
“I want to get that stack of clothes I left up on the counter,” she told Ralph
once they were in a corner, “but I, uh, my purse was stolen.” She didn’t know
why she lied, she just wanted to think of some way to save face. “So maybe I
could do something real nice for you in exchange for the clothes.” Ralph
looked the sweet high school student up and down. He knew he would get fired
if he was caught, and he wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but he had to find
out.
“There’s an employee men’s room in the back,” he said. “Follow me.” He
marched through a curtain and Tiffany followed him into the men’s room,
where he turned and locked the door from the inside. “Are you sure you want to
do this?” Ralph asked.
“No, but I have to,” Tiffany answered honestly.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Ralph said. “If you want to trade clothes
for sex, I won’t say no, but wouldn’t it be nicer if we went somewhere and made
love properly? Then you could come back and I’d give you some clothes. I
mean, this is kinda tacky,” he concluded, gesturing at the squalidness of the
men’s room.
“I know,” said Tiffany. Her mind was reeling. This boy was actually very
nice. He said things like “make love” where all the other men just talked about
sucking their cocks. He was good-looking, and he smelled nice. In another
world, she would have dated him, maybe, gone to a movie, maybe gone
parking down by the lake and made out. But that was not Tiffany’s world right
now. She knew Old Joe and the others would be waiting outside, waiting to
smell her breath and degrade and debase her further. She steeled herself,
reached out a hand and unzipped Ralph’s khakis.
“I’d love to chat,” she said, trying to sound nice, “but right now I just have
to give you a blow job.” Ralph had tried to do the right thing, but he was, after
all, a teenage boy, with a lovely girl squatting down and unzipping his fly and
pulling his dick out with her tender fingers. He sprang to life, hard as a steel
bar, and knew he wasn’t going to be offering this little slut any more
alternatives. Tiffany leaned forward and placed her lips around the head of
Ralph’s prick.
“Ohmigod!” the boy moaned softly. “You are so sexy!” Pleased at the
compliment, Tiffany reached a hand into his open fly and began to fondle his
balls. Although the Benwa balls were stationary, her pussy was suddenly
leaking a trickle of juice than ran down her thigh. Her clit was throbbing, and
she thought about reaching down with her other hand, pulling her panties aside
and masturbating while she sucked the teenaged boy. But she forced herself to
focus. Even though this was much nicer than her previous blow jobs, the goal
was to get the evening over with.
The blonde cheerleader pulled her mouth off the engorged dick, then stuck
her tongue out and swirled it over and over the head. Ralph moaned and leaned
back against the bathroom wall. Tiffany leaned forward, her gorgeous red lips
open wide, and ran her mouth all the way down onto his cock as far as she
could manage. His kinky pubic hairs tickled her nose. She pulled back, then
started bobbing her head up and down, faster and faster. Her hand seemed to be
on automatic pilot, rolling his testicles around in his scrotum. She could feel
them start to inch upward and his scrotum tighten as his orgasm approached.
“Oh yes, ohhhhh yes,” the boy moaned. Tiffany pussy spasmed slightly.
She was so damned turned on. She had never been this horny in her young life.
She reached down with her free hand without even thinking, pulled aside her
panties and started rubbing her exposed pink clit with two fingers. Suddenly,
Ralph’s cock exploded into her mouth, pulsing out wave after wave of hot boy
semen. She started swallowing dutifully, and kept working her clit, faster and
faster, approaching her own climax.
Sated, Ralph pulled his cock from the girl’s hot mouth with a “pop” as the
suction of her lips was broken. The blow job was over, but she still hadn’t cum!
Without the cock in her mouth, she was suddenly very aware of who she was
and what she was doing: squatting on a men’s room floor masturbating
furiously in front of a total stranger! My God, she thought, what was happening
to her. She pulled her hand away from her sopping wet crotch, and the spell
was completely broken. She had once again come so close to an orgasm, only
to fall short. Ralph was zipping up his pants. There was nothing for Tiffany to
do but stand up and smile, weakly.
“Thank you, thank you thank you,” blabbed the lucky Gap clerk. Boy,
would he have some story to tell his friends! He wished he had a Polaroid
camera to take a picture of this vision of loveliness, dressed like a total whore,
standing in front of him with a tiny dribble of his semen at the corner of her
mouth.
“You’re welcome,” was all Tiffany could manage as her well-bred manners
automatically took over.
“Can I have your phone number?” Ralph asked. “I could call you…”
Tiffany thought it was wonderful that he was still acting as if they had met in
the food court after a basketball game, but she was in enough trouble and
wasn’t about to give her number to a boy who thought she gave out blow jobs
all the time. She declined, scooped up the clothes, stuffed them in a large Gap
bag that had been left in the restroom and beat it out of there without even
saying goodbye. Ralph stood forlornly and watched her go.
Click click click went Tiffany’s heels as she walked quickly along the tile
floor of the mall. Swish swish went the round globes of her ass under the tight
black mini, back and forth, mesmerizing every male in the mall. She saw Old
Joe coming toward her. He smiled when he saw the Gap bag in her hand.
“Well done, little missy. By the way, in case you didn’t have time to have a
proper conversation with young Ralph, he’s on the basket ball team of the local
high school. I believe they’re our opponent for homecoming.” He smiled a
toothy grin. Every time Tiffany thought her ordeal had reached the bottom, it
got worse. Now she would have to go out on the court Friday night in her
cheerleader uniform and Ralph would be telling all his teammates about how
that blonde cheerleader had sucked him off a few nights ago in the mall. Her
face burned with shame.
Old Joe told her to walk on ahead until she met Tom Green, who would
direct her to her next store. That store turned out to be The Rave, and this time
Green walked right in with her. Tiffany had never been in this kind of store,
which sold hippie clothes, punk garb, Goth stuff, some surfer garb. Heavy
metal played loudly on the stereo, and black light posters of skulls, bare-
breasted witches and cartoon dogs fucking hung on the walls. A glass case
along one wall contained bongs, buttons with sayings like “Cure Virginity,”
temporary Harley tattoos. It wasn’t really a rough place, it was just for suburban
wannabes, kids who didn’t have the guts to get a real tattoo but would get one
that would come off in a week. It was still enough to scare Tiffany, who was
more used to shopping at stores like the Gap with daddy’s American Express.
“In here, no one will think it’s weird if we’re together,” Green was saying
as he put his arm around her shoulder. “You’re my girlfriend, if anyone even
cares to ask. We’ll pick out some clothes, and then I’ll let you arrange
payment.” He chuckled. Green led her to a stack of halter tops. He picked one
that said “Porn Star” across the front in glitter letters. Another said “Stop
Looking at My Tits!” One had no words, but was white and so sheer it was
almost transparent. She might as well wrap Saran Wrap around her tits, Tiffany
thought. Green put them all in a pile for “purchase,” then found what he was
looking for and said “A ha!”
The halter was black, like her shoes and her skirt, and across the front, in
large silver script, it read: “JUST DO ME.” Underneath was a Nike swoosh.. It
probably broke all kinds of counterfeiting laws, but The Rave staff didn’t care
much about such niceties.
“This is the one I want you to wear the rest of the night,” Green told the
frightened girl.
“Do they have it in a bigger size?” she asked. “I think that one will be too
small.”
“Nonsense,” said Green. “Here, let’s try it on.”
“You mean in the dressing room?”
“No, I mean right here, my little video star.” Green turned to the man
behind the counter. “Hey, dude, you mind if my girlfriend here tries on a halter
top without using a dressing room?” he said in a voice loud enough for
everyone in the store to hear. The guy behind the counter was large and hefty, a
beefy guy who looked like a biker even though he wasn’t. He had a handlebar
moustache and long black hair tied back in a ponytail, and the sleeves of his
black T-shirt were cut off, showing off his muscles. His right bicep bore the
tattoo “Pretty Fucking Dangerous” under a skull smoking a cigarette.
“Knock yourself out, man,” he said with a big smile.
“Please don’t make do this,” Tiffany begged. She tried to make herself look
sweet and vulnerable and pitiful to Mr. Green.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “If you try on the halter right here where
you’re standing, I’ll let you off the hook with blowing Mr. Dangerous over
there. I’m a little worried about him. He looks like the kind of guy who might
really hurt you, might want to slap you around a little if he has you alone in
back. He might even have a knife and want to cut you a little.” Green was
laying it on thick, terrifying the already frightened girl, whose trembling had
started again.
Tiffany was about to pee on the floor she was so scared. Mr. Green was
right, the biker behind the counter did look very mean indeed. If Green left her
alone in the store and she had to offer him a blow job, it might be a much uglier
experience than dorky Jim in the shoe store or sweet Ralph at the Gap.
“You mean I have to be p-p-partially naked right here in the store?” she
stammered.
“Yup, and you’d better get moving, little video star, or I’ll walk over there
to Mr. Dangerous and tell him what he’s about to get in five minutes. Once he
focuses on getting his dick in your mouth, there won’t be anything either one of
us can do.” Green was playing the teen like a violin. Tiffany felt sick, but knew
she had no choice. She glanced around nervously and started to move behind a
display. Green stopped her.
“Right there where you’re standing,” he ordered. “If you get to skip a blow
job, the other guys are gonna be pissed and want to know why, and I need to be
able to tell them it was a fair trade-off.” Actually, Tiffany didn’t realize that her
three other tormentors were standing right outside the entrance, blocking the
door, which served two purposes. First, it prevented mall security from
wandering in unannounced. Second, Brown had the video camera out and was
getting the whole thing on tape to add to the Tiffany Blackmail Video. The men
had already scoped out The Rant and figured out this variation in their plan.
“Better get busy with those buttons,” Green told her. “And smile, baby.
Don’t think of it as showing off those pretty tits of yours. Think of it as
avoiding a nasty encounter with Mr. Dangerous back there.” Tiffany swallowed
hard. The room seemed to be wavering again, but this time there were no drugs
in her system. She knew what she had to do, and began unbuttoning her white
blouse. When all the buttons were undone, she reached out to the halter top
Green was holding. The teacher stepped back out of her reach.
“No, first the shirt comes all the way off. Lay it on the floor, and then ask
me politely for the top.” Tiffany cursed him under her breath, then slid the
blouse over her shoulder and down her arms. It fell to the floor, and the 16-
year-old cheerleader was standing naked from the waist up in the middle of the
store. She realized the store was utterly quiet. Two teenage girls who had been
looking through the clothes and stopped and were staring at her. The ugly man
behind the counter was ogling her magnificent tits too, and from somewhere in
the back, two teenaged boys had appeared and started pointing and nudging
each other. The poor girl wanted to die. Tiffany instinctively crossed her arms
over her chest.
“Hands at your sides, Tiffany. Get ’em there this second, or I’ll ask some of
these guys to come over and hold them there.” With that, the tattooed man
bounded out from behind the counter and was at Tiffany’s side even before she
could obey.
“You need some help here, boss?” he asked. “Little lady causing you
problems?”
“I don’t know,” Green answered. “Are you causing me problems, Tiffany?
Do we need this gentleman to assist us?” The burly man towered over Tiffany
and stared straight at her cleavage.
“No, sir,” Tiffany said, and slowly lowered her arms to her sides. Her 36-
inch breasts, capped with the beautiful pink nipples, were on display for all the
world to see.
“Oh, man!” said one of the teen boys in a voice louder than he intended.
“Check out that rack! Jesus Christ!”
“Please, sir, may I have the top?” Tiffany said, her voice steely. It was
taking all her will power not to run screaming from the store.
“Let’s ask our salesperson,” Green said, taunting the girl. “Do you think
she’ll look good in this?” He held up the black “JUST DO ME” halter.
“I don’t know, man,” said the man, playing along with the game. He wasn’t
sure what kind of weird shit these people were into, but he was willing to see
where it went. “It’s kind of small, and those tits of hers are awfully big.”
“How big are they, Tiffany?” Green asked.
“Please, please, please, sir,” the schoolgirl begged. “Can I just have the
top?”
“Not until we find out how big your tits are,” Green replied. “What’s your
bra size, honey? We need to know to make sure we get this fitting right.”
“36 C, goddamn it!” Tiffany spat.
“Yup, they look about that size,” said Mr. Green. “Here, you can have the
top, but since this gentleman works here, I think maybe he ought to help you
into it. And that’s the only condition you can have the top.” Tiffany started to
shiver. It was cold in the store, and her nipples were getting hard. The metal
head music blared, and the teen boys were now giggling like Beavis and
Butthead. The two girls had crept closer as well, and the customers formed a
ring around Tiffany, staring and pointing. She knew she had to do whatever
Green said or he would just keep her standing here with everyone staring at her
naked breasts.
“OK,” Tiffany said softly.
“OK what?” Mr. Green asked.
“OK, he can help me try it on.”
“Ask him,” Green ordered.
“Would you please help me try this halter top on?” she said to the ugly
biker.
“Oh, one more thing, Tiffany,” Green said nonchalantly. “To make sure we
get the best fit, I want you to take a real breath and hold it till I tell you to let it
out.” Tiffany knew what the sadistic teacher was doing, but had no choice. She
inhaled a lung full of air, which caused her to stomach to flatten in and her
chest to stick out even more. It looked as if she was deliberately flaunting her
fantastic bare tits at the customers in the store. Mr Dangerous grinned, and Mr.
Green handed him the JUST DO ME top.
At the entrance to The Rave, Roger White was capturing the whole scene
on video. The biker held the tiny top in his meaty paw and eyeballed the scared,
half- naked cheerleader standing in the middle of his store. He slowly untied
the two sets of strings on the back, taking his time. The four other teenagers in
the store just stared. It felt as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for
the next move in the strange little drama of dominance and submission.
Mr. Dangerous laid the halter down over the tops of Tiffany’s beautifully
jutting breasts, then stepped behind her and pulled the two strings that tied
around the back of her neck. Although her breasts were now partially covered,
the pink nipples, stiff with cold and fear, still poked out for all to see. She
wanted more than anything in the world to cover them, but knew she had to
keep her hands obediently at her sides, or else the whole process would be
dragged out even longer.
The clerk took hold of the bottom of the halter and pulled it gently down
over her breasts, brushing the hairy backs of his hands over her nipples as he
covered them. The top came down a little below her nipples, but still left sweet-
looking half-moons of teenaged flesh hanging out below.
“Doesn’t look like it’s gonna cover ’em up, boss,” he said to Green. “These
titties are just too big.” Tiffany was mortified.
“Let’s keep trying, maybe we can make it work,” Green replied. Dangerous
pulled the second set of strings behind Tiffany’s bare back and tied them there.
“OK, you can exhale, Tiffany,” said Green. She did, but even as her body
regained its usual shape, it was apparent to all in the store that the halter top
just barely covered her. In addition to the breast meat that hung out the bottom,
she was flashing as much cleavage as if she was wearing a Wonderbra, and
only a Wonderbra. The small amount of black fabric that covered the middles
of her breasts and the still-erect nipples was stretched extremely tight, and the
logo JUST DO ME was slightly distorted, but still readable.
“What do you think?” Green asked the burly clerk.
“Well, I liked her better with her tits hanging out,” he answered honestly,
and the teen boys watching nodded furiously in agreement, still speechless.
“But it does make her look pretty fuckin’ hot, I gotta say that.”
“Tiffany, do you think you look pretty fuckin’ hot?” Green asked. The
tormented teenager didn’t know what she was supposed to answer. She decided
the best course was to quickly agree with everything, just to get the ordeal over
with.
“Yes sir,” she whimpered meekly.
“I’m worried that when you leave the store and start bouncing through the
mall, your tits are gonna pop right out of that top,” Green told her. “So hold
your arms very firmly against your sides.” Tiffany did so, and the effect was to
push her bosoms out even more, accentuating the cleavage. “Very good,” Green
said. “And since you have your arms holding the sides of your new halter in
place, you won’t be needing this.” And he deftly reached around and untied the
strings stretched across her back. Tiffany instantly knew that she had to keep
her arms locked at her sides, that any release in the pressure on the sides of the
halter would probably cause it to pop right off her chest, so tight was the fit.
“Tell you what,” Green said to the tattooed clerk. “How about giving us the
halter in exchange for the little show we put on?” There was no disagreement,
only a big grin and a nod. “So, let’s go, sweetie,” Green said, and guided
Tiffany by the elbow toward the entrance, where she saw her principal clicking
off the video camera that had captured the entire humiliating display.
As the young girl walked out of the store and into the mall, she realized
how vulnerable she was. The high heels made her walk unsteady. The Benwa
balls began slooshing around again inside her wet teenaged pussy, sending
wonderful erotic messages throughout her confused body. She had to keep her
arms locked down at her sides as she walked. From behind, she was naked
from the neck to her ankles, except for the micro-mini skirt that clung tightly to
her hips. From the front, she had a little more covering, but was advertising
herself as the biggest slut in the world with the JUST DO ME logo on her shirt.
It was all she could do to keep walking, and yet she knew that was her only
hope of eventually getting out of the mall.
“One final touch, bitch-baby, and then we’re done here and ready to go
home,” White told her. As he pulled her into a small alcove of pay phones that
was fortunately empty. He reached into a Spenser’s Gifts bag and pulled out a
plastic tiara, the kind little girls would wear for dress-up. It was silver and
crusted with cheap rhinestones, and the plastic had been molded in front to
spell out the word “PRINCESS.”
“Since you think you’re such a princess,” White told the girl, “We thought
we should make it official.” He put the tiara on Tiffany’s head, adjusted it, and
tucked its clips into her hair. Somehow the tiara was the worst touch of all to
the girl. The slutty clothing was at least a coherent ensemble, but the tiara was
like a sick joke, and just called even more attention to her, if that was possible.
“You can take a stroll up the length of the mall and back again, by
yourself,” White told her, “and then we’ll take you back to school.” He pulled
out the video camera. “And make it look like you’re enjoying yourself. We’re
not quite done with our evening yet; there’s more to come when we get back to
school. If you put on a good show here at the mall, maybe we’ll go a little easy
on you when we get back. But if you look like you’re miserable, we’ll just have
to think of some more things to do. Think we can come up with any, fellows?”
he asked the three other perverted men in the group.
“Oh, I got a little mental list,” whispered Joe Black. “A looooong mental
list.”
“Get going, babe,” White said, and slapped Tiffany hard on her Spandex-
covered ass. She took a few wobbly steps out into the mall. Once she got going,
it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. At least it wasn’t a rainy Saturday
afternoon, she told herself, when the mall would have been packed. Or at least
it was the Beverly Mall at home, where she couldn’t avoid running into friends
and classmates. As she walked, the balls in her pussy worked their magic,
turning and churning, upping her lust level with every step. She tuned out her
surroundings and barely saw the middle aged men who stopped in their tracks
to stare, the boys from The Rave who had hooked up with some friends and
were trailing her every step a few yards back, the disapproving stares of the
women who saw only a cheap slut strutting around, offering her nubile body to
every man. White got the whole thing on video, even the cutaways to the
onlookers.
Finally she was finished with her long walk. The whole trip to the mall had
only taken an hour, but it seemed like an eternity to the poor girl. She wondered
how much more abuse she could take from these men, and whether it would get
worse. She knew that so far, none of them had fucked her, and she’d only
sucked off two of them, and she somehow knew, even though she wouldn’t let
herself dwell on it, that such a status quo could not possibly last much longer.
Nor would it. The men had carefully timed the evening’s events, and knew
that if they left the mall now, and drove quickly back to Beverly, they’d have
about half an hour with Tiffany before she was due home. All four had raging
hard-ons based on what they had done to the school’s best-looking cheerleader,
and based, as well, on what they had in store for her when they got back to
school.

Chapter Eight: The One With The History Lesson

The big Lincoln Navigator sped through the night on the way back to
Godfrey Daniels High School and the remainder of Tiffany’s evening with her
tormentors. Traffic was non-existent, but had there been any, they would have
seen a strange sight: out of the back seat window on the driver’s side stuck a
cute bare foot. And out of the passenger’s side back seat window, another cute
bare foot.
In the back seat, Tiffany was in agony. After she had left the mall with the
men and gotten into the SUV in the parking lot, they had ordered her to strip
off her panties. Mr. White, the principal, had told her they would see how the
trip worked without handcuffs this time, but that they were ready to cuff her
again if she wasn’t completely co-operative.
Wedged again in the back seat between Joe Black, the school janitor, and
John Brown, her algebra teacher, the cute cheerleader was ordered to take off
the high-heeled pumps in which she had been strutting around the mall looking
like a slut. She did so willingly, as they had really been hurting her feet. Then
White told her to stick her right foot out the right window, and her left foot out
the left. To make sure she obeyed, Old Joe got out the cuffs and rattled them in
her face.
Although it was difficult, the girl quickly complied, so anxious was she to
avoid being cuffed and helpless again. Fortunately, her cheerleading practice
and teenaged limberness served her well. She went into what amounted to a
splits in the backseat of the Lincoln, and managed, barely, to get each foot out
of each rear window. As soon as they were out, White hit a button in the
control panel up front and both windows began to move upward.
“Nooo!” Tiffany shouted and started to pull her feet in. But in a flash,
Black and Brown each grabbed an ankle firmly in their hands and held her feet
in place. Up, up, up went the power windows, until finally Tiffany’s feet were
trapped in place. The glass pinning her ankles to the ceiling wasn’t really
painful, but the position was a terrible strain. Her beautiful naked legs were
now spread as wide as they could possible be spread, almost but not quite in a
straight line.
In order to accommodate the position, Tiffany had had to scoot her butt
forward on the seat, hiking the black miniskirt up almost to her waist, and
completely exposing her gorgeous blonde pussy to the lustful gazes of the men.
The muscles in her thighs quivered slightly at the difficulty of holding the
position, but Tiffany knew that she had no choice, and that in all probability
she would be trapped like this – spread wide, vulnerable, naked from the waist
down – for the entire half-hour drive back to town. The teen beauty’s big blue
eyes were filled with fear and anguish.
“Ohh, please, my legs hurt,” she begged her captors. As the Navigator
picked up speed, the wind blew against the naked soles of Tiffany’s feet,
tickling them slightly, adding yet another sensation to the over-stimulated girl.
“Hush, Princess,” said Tom Green, her English teacher, from the front seat.
“That’s what we’re going to call you from now on: Princess. You’ve even got
the crown to prove it,” he added, referring to the cheap plastic child’s tiara
Tiffany was still wearing. “You’ve always acted like such the little princess,
and now we’re just following through on that. It’s going to be a real hoot when
you show up at school tomorrow wearing that tiara, Princess.” The teenager’s
perfect breasts heaved up and down as she struggled to maintain her composure
at the thought of appearing at school in such a ridiculous mockery.
“Now that we’re alone,” White said, “we can do without the halter top.”
Instantly, Joe Black grabbed the bottom of the skimpy black halter and yanked
it up, and Tiffany’s milky white tits spilled out. With the halter now bunched
around her neck and the miniskirt hiked to her waist, all of her lovely charms
were on full display. Her face burned with shame, her leg muscles ached, the
wind tickled her feet, and the SUV pushed on relentlessly.
“Before we start our next game,” White told the 16-year-old girl, “I want to
tell you a couple of stories. I suggest you listen well, because your future
depends on how well you understand them. As I told you earlier, these games
have been going on for about 10 years. I started it, then Old Joe joined me, then
Tom and John. We wait for a student at Daniels to fuck up, and then we exploit
her weakness and blackmail her. Sexual abuse is part of the game, but after
you’ve fucked 40 or so teenaged girls, the mind longs for more, er, creative
pursuits. So we’ve been focusing more and more on entrapping the stuck-up
cunts, the cock-teasers, the princesses, the little girls who walk around like their
shit don’t stink, and then humiliating them utterly. Coming up with new ways
to accomplish that keeps us on our toes and keeps the game interesting.
“So far,” White continued, “you’ve performed better than some of our past
victims, but still not quite at the level we expect. Back there in The Rave, for
example, we told you to smile when you were trying on your halter top, and
you didn’t. We were shooting the whole thing on video, and it would be much
more effective if it had appeared like you were doing that little number of your
own free will. Now we’ll have to have our friend, Mr. Isherwoood, edit the
tape, and it will probably only be snippets of you, stripped to the waist in public
being ogled by a gang. Admittedly, once we get those few shots added on to
your ongoing video, along with the shots of you strutting around the mall like a
whore in heat, it will look to anyone viewing it that you are not under any
duress, which is, of course, the idea. But we hate it when one of our victims
makes our little games harder for us, and when we hate something, it makes us
even more creative and even nastier. So I suggest you get with the fucking
program, Princess!” Tiffany sniffled, and shuddered. They were madmen!
But she was trapped, so she simply said, very meekly, “Yes, sir.”
“Now let me tell you about a little girl named Claire. This was about eight
years ago, and Claire was a senior at Daniels. An honor student. National
Honor Society. Salutatorian. Played first violin in the school orchestra. A
virgin. A little on the thin side, but a real beauty. She could have been a model.
Such a good girl. But to keep her grades up and manage all of her workload,
Claire had developed a bit of a speed habit. Not a lot, just sometimes, for
studying. One of her teachers suspected, and sent her to me. I did a search of
her purse – illegal, of course, but I guess Claire wasn’t that bright after all – and
found a few capsules.
“The game was on, and for awhile, it went pretty much the way yours was
going. We started with some videos, to get even more blackmailing material on
Claire. While she technically was cooperative, at every step she made it
difficult for us. She’d threaten to tell her parents, or she’d cry throughout a
video shoot to make it unusable, on and on. What a pain in the ass! Her attitude
just pissed us off. Normally, we cut our girls loose after we’ve had our fun, and
let them go back to their little teenaged lives, dry-humping boys in the backs of
cars and watching MTV or whatever the hell they do. But not Claire. We felt
she hadn’t learned her lesson, so when she went away to Harvard, we kept tabs
on her. We flew up midway through her freshman year with a video from her
senior year of her giving eight consecutive blow jobs to some guys we
recruited, her face clearly visible, and told her we’d show it to her boyfriend
and all her teachers if she didn’t make a new one. We rented a hotel room, and
tied her down spread-eagle on the bed, and brought in a German Shepherd we’d
borrowed from a friend.” Tiffany’s heart was racing as White told the story. My
God, she thought, these men are worse monsters than I thought! A dog! Oh my
God!
“Little Princess Claire freaked out, but fortunately she was well tied and
thoroughly gagged. We spread Alpo all over her pussy and turned the Shepherd
loose. His big, rough tongue started licking, and licking, and licking. We’d
tucked some Alpo well up inside her, and he was rooting that nose up into her
pussy, and lapping for all he was worth. Pretty soon the inevitable happened.
Against her will, Claire started to get turned on by the dog going down on her.
She stopped struggling, and started bucking her hips upward. We took the
panty gag out of her mouth and instead of screaming for help, she started
moaning, “Ohhh, Jesus, yes, Jesus, don’t stop! That feels so good!” And right
there on the bed, Claire had herself one shattering, mind-blowing orgasm from
being licked by a dog.
“That’s when we told her we had been surreptitiously taping the whole
show. She’d forgotten how devious we were, and when she didn’t see a video
camera and started focusing on the dog, she just forgot everything. That was
one of our all-time best videos, and we showed it to Claire. Although the
Internet was pretty new at that point, we’d managed to get in touch with a
Japanese businessman who had offered us big money for that kind of tape, or
several other types. We told Claire she could either continue to cooperate, or
we’d sell the tape. She didn’t know if she’d ever even visit Japan, but the
thought of a bunch of Japs sitting around watching her orgasm with a dog and
whacking off had a powerful effect. We turned off the video camera and boned
that Harvard freshman up the ass for one solid hour. She was still so turned on
from Rover that with a little tweaking on her clit, she came over and over even
when Old Joe had his rather impressive piston at work. Hell,” White added
with an evil leer, “especially when Old Joe was working that ass!
“So flash forward a few years,” White continued. “Claire graduated
Harvard, went to Law School, made Law Review, got a great job on a
partnership track at a top firm in New York. She was about 26 now. This would
have been about six months ago. The four of us flew to New York and made an
appointment to see a Mr. Mason, the senior partner in the firm. We told him we
had important information about a young woman at his firm who was about to
be made a full partner. We played Mr. Mason the video of Claire and the dog,
and man, I thought his eyes were gonna pop out of his head. It was a risk, we
knew. The guy could have had us arrested, but we gambled that most men,
faced with the opportunity we were presenting to Mr. Mason, would take the
low road, the testosterone highway. Not only did he pay us nicely for the tape,
but we signed a contract, that if we ever needed legal representation, he would
provide it pro bono. Sooner or later, we figure, some little girl is going to
squeal on us, and there’s going to be a trial. But we not only have high-priced
counsel on call, we have the tapes. Any girl dumb enough to go to the
authorities is going to have to sit up on that witness stand, while Mr. Mason
plays the videos we’ve taken of her, carefully edited so that everything looks
non-coerced.
“Imagine yourself on that witness stand, Tiffany, with your family in the
audience, and your friends, watching that video of you masturbating and
sucking a dick, with a table full of drug paraphernalia spread out in front of
you, and trying to explain it. Or stripping off your top and strutting around a
mall like a bitch in heat. But I digress.
“Mr. Mason told Claire that he was sponsoring a small retreat that
weekend with some powerful lawyers at other firms, but not to tell anyone at
the firm because it might be construed as favoritism. When Claire showed up at
the resort, Mason played the video for her, and then dictated the deal: He would
make her a full partner in the firm, and in return, she would be his sex slave.
The guy was in his 60s, and sometimes had trouble getting it up, but he found
that whipping Claire’s ass until it bled got him good and hard.
“So now, every weekend, Claire meets Mason in an expensive hotel room
in New York, where the walls are so thick they’re virtually soundproof. He
orders her to strip, and he gags her with her own panties, so her screams are
muffled. Then he has her lay face down on the coffee table, and straps her
wrists and ankles to the legs, immobilizing her. A couple of pillows from the
bed are pushed under her tummy, raising her ass up, presenting it as a target.
Mason reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a thin, supple switch, and
proceeds to just beat the bejeesus out of Claire’s ass and the backs of her thighs
for a good half hour. Then, when he’s good and hard, he sodomizes her – fucks
her up the ass, which probably really hurts since she’s covered with raw,
bleeding welts.
“And that is Claire’s life for the foreseeable future, Princess.” The beautiful
cheerleader was speechless. Her mind churned with the images her principal
had planted there, of a high school honors student who was now the toy of a
cruel and sadistic boss. She knew that somehow she had to avoid Claire’s fate,
although she wasn’t sure just how far these men would push her. But she would
do anything, she vowed silently, anything!
“Remember the part about the Japanese businessman?” White asked.
Tiffany was silent. “Hey, Princess, I asked you a direct question!” he barked.
“Yes, sir,” she blurted out. “Yes, I remember!”
“Well, we’ve been corresponding via e-mail for some time, and the market
in Japan just gets stronger and stronger. It seems the really rich perverts over
there are have burned out on anything that smacks remotely of commercially
produced. They want fresh victims, with the emphasis on victims. Real girls,
American, innocent, being defiled and abused in ways that are even a bit
disgusting for us. That’s why occasionally we farm out some of our video work
to a guy we’ll call Dr. Wu. You know, like the Steely Dan song: “Are you
crazy, are you high, or just an ordinary guy?”
Tiffany had never heard the song, but responded quickly, “Yes, sir!”
“Anyway, Dr. Wu is where we send girls who really a need a wake-up call.
OK, not girls. So far it’s only been one girl. Tara O’Hara. She was two years
ago. One week a nice, normal high school girl, the next week, a total wreck. I
hear she’s a crack whore now in Dallas, giving blow jobs for $25 a pop.
“Any rate,” White continued, “we were at the mall one night with Tara,
playing pretty much the same game we were with you tonight. Little Tara can’t
stand it, and breaks away from us when she sees a security guard and goes
running up to him, babbling about how she’s been kidnapped by those men over
there, and they’re going to rape her, yada yada yada.
“We thought the jig was up. Fortunately, mall security guards are not
always your most upstanding citizens. We quietly offered the guy a sizable
bribe and a half-hour with Tara in his office. Of course, he took it. And he took
her. Rather roughly, from the look of her when she staggered out.
“But Tara needed to be taught a lesson, so we made her call her parents
from the mall and tell them she was staying over at a friend’s house. We drove
straight to Dr. Wu’s cabin, way out in the boonies. Nobody around for miles.
The kind of place where a girl can scream and scream, and no one will ever
hear her, except for a bunch of horny Japanese businessmen watching the tape
of her screaming.
“Dr. Wu made several videos of Tara that night, aimed at different
markets. One of the milder ones was for guys who like watching a girl get
pissed on. He brought in half a dozen bikers, gave ’em a few beers each,
propped her mouth open and let ’em all line up and take their turn. She just
about choked to death, but managed to swallow most of it. Then there was a
doggie tape, only Dr. Wu didn’t stop like we did with Claire with just licking.
He had a couple of Great Danes mount Tara and fuck her half to death. One in
the pussy, one in the ass.
“Then he made what he called the toys tape, which means different things
that were used to fuck little Tara. He started out small, with a pool cue, then
moved on to a beer bottle. Gradually, her pussy was lubricating and she got
looser, so he moved up to a cop’s nightstick, a kitchen glass, a billiard ball. He
finished her off with the fat end of a baseball bat. Got it in about six inches, if I
remember correctly. Six inches of Louisville Slugger. Man, you should have
heard her howl.
“And while he was filming the finale, you know what song he was playing
on his boom box, Princess? That song by the Beastie Boys that goes “I did her
like this, I did her like that, I did her with a whiffle ball bat.” That Dr. Wu has
one sick sense of humor, but one eclectic appreciation of popular music!” the
evil principal chuckled. He took a breath, then continued.
“Finally, there were the torture tapes. Because she had to go back to her
family, he was not able to do anything causing permanent damage, which
limited him somewhat. But you’d be surprised what a sustained beating with a
rubber garden hose on the soles of the feet can do. Or how an expert can use a
cigarette lighter and hold it just close enough to a girl’s nipples and pussy to
make them unbelievably painful, yet not cause any actual burns. Electricity is
pretty good, too. You shove a metal dildo up a girl’s cunt, attach alligator clips
to her nipples, and attach them both to a hand-cranked generator. Then let her
rip! Yeehaw! Little Tara had thought she was screamed out from the baseball
bat till she started getting jolts from volts!
“And all this, Princess, was being done to a sweet little girl, only 15, a year
younger than you. We split the profits of the tapes with Dr. Wu. Tara, as I said,
was completely broken by her night in the cabin and never even graduated..”
Mr. White paused. “And that’s what happens to little Princesses who don’t get
with the program, Miss Tiffany Daniels.”
The luscious young backseat beauty was in shock. She was beginning to
hyperventilate again, and her luscious breasts bounced with the increasing
gasps of air she was taking. She was hardly aware of the pain in the muscles of
her widely stretched legs, or the presence of the men on either side of her in the
back seat.
“So you are facing a choice, Princess,” White said. “You can give less than
100 percent cooperation, and face the fate of Claire or even Tara. Or you can
go along with us, do exactly what we tell you, never question an order, and do
everything we tell you with a smile, as if it was your idea, your fondest fantasy.
If you do that, we promise you we will not cause you any real physical pain.
That’s not what we’re into. We also promise that you will remain a virgin, at
least technically. That’s as much for our own protection. We don’t like wearing
rubbers, and a pregnancy is just too messy to deal with. Finally, if you
cooperate, eventually we will get tired of you, and some new little piece of
teenaged fluff will present itself, and we’ll move on, and you’ll be left with only
a set of interesting memories, but can go about the rest of your life.
“So what’s it gonna be, Princess?”
“I I I I’ll cooperate, sir,” Tiffany stammered. “I’ll do whatever you say.
Please don’t hurt me like those other girls.” She has no choice, she told herself.
No choice. It was out of her hands.
“That’s a good princess,” White said. “And who knows? Maybe not every
moment will be torture. We like to see our playthings having a good time, like
you did that first night with Mr. Green. There are few things more wondrous
than a beautiful teenaged girl having a body-shattering orgasm, or a string of
them. And with that, let’s have some music.”
White pulled a CD out of the console beside him, pushed it into the
Lincoln’s player, and hit the advance button several times. The track he wanted
came on, filling the SUV with the sound of Mick Jagger’s nasty vocals, more
than 30 years old: “Under my thumb, The girl who once had me down, Under
my thumb, The girl who once pushed me around, It’s down to me, The
difference in the clothes she wears, Down to me, the change has come, She’s
under my thumb …”
“Why don’t you relax as best you can, Tiffany, and the guys back there will
make you feel good,” White suggested. Old Joe the janitor and Mr. Brown
needed no more prompting. Immediately, Old Joe put his fingers up to the
opening of her young pussy and ordered, “Push those ben-wa balls out, baby.”
Tiffany, obedient, did just that, and the two metal balls pooped out into Joe’s
hand. They were wet with her pussy juice, and they left her young twat wide
open.
“Here’s a little something to fill up that opening,” Joe said, and pushed a
pink vibrator up inside her. He flicked a switch at the end, and the small
machine began to hum and vibrate inside Tiffany’s highly stimulated vagina.
While Joe was busy with her pussy, Mr. Brown reached into a soft drink cup
he’d gotten at the food court and pulled out a large piece of ice. He reached
over and began to run the ice on her left nipple. The tip-tit, shocked by the cold,
began to grow erect. Around and around went the piece of ice, making
Tiffany’s nipple grow more and more engorged with blood. When it reached its
peak, he transferred the ice to her right nipple and began to rub again, making it
erect as well.
“Since your hands aren’t cuffed, Princess, I want you to reach down and
pull on your pussy lips and hold ’em open,” Joe ordered. “But no fair touching
your clit. That’s gonna be our job.” Tiffany, still scared to death of the threats,
obeyed meekly, pulling her pussy lips wide with both hands. Her little clit
popped out from under its hood, looking like a small, moist pearl, glistening
with desire.
“Yum yum yum,” murmured the older janitor. He licked his thumb, and
then pressed it down, gently but firmly, on Tiffany’s hot, throbbing clit, and
began to massage it in a circle. Tiffany inhaled sharply. It felt soooooo good.
Her horniness had temporarily vanished when she was being publicly stripped
and displayed inside The Rave, and later, during White’s long history lesson.
But her erotic feelings had really just been pushed below the surface. She had,
after all, spent half an hour walking through the mall with Benwa balls jammed
up her pussy, stretching her and massaging the sugar walls of her teenaged
twat. Mr. Black leaned over and began to whisper in her ear.
“I gotta tell ya, sweetie, back there in the mall, you may have been the
sexiest girl on the face of the earth. You looked so sweet and so hot, like
Chinese mustard, baby, prancing around in those high, high heels, that teeny
tiny skirt, that sexy top.” His voice had a low, monotonous quality, almost
hypnotic. “You got the longest, sexiest legs of any girl at Daniels High, sweet
cakes. Those titties of yours are magnificent. And what’s more, you know it,
don’t you girl? You know how hot and sexy you are. You love how the boys all
want to have sex with you, how the male teachers all try to look up your skirt,
how everyone ogles those tits. You love it, Princess.”
And all the while Joe was cooing into her ear, telling Tiffany her own
secrets, she continued to hold open her pussy lips with both hands, and Joe
continued to rub her clit, which was getting bigger and bigger, redder and
redder. It was if the tiny organ had a mind of its own and was straining upward
for release at Joe’s hand. And Mr. Brown, on her other side, kept rubbing the
ice over her nipples, which were so hard Tiffany thought they might explode,
that she might explode, that she was hovering on the brink of an explosion, that
she was getting close and closer to her orgasm, and the vibrator in her pussy
was buzzing and buzzing, and the wind tickled her toes as they stuck out the
windows. She was going to cum so hard, so hard, and Joe’s thumb was moving
faster and faster, and it was a blur, the nipples, the pussy, the legs spread so
wide, the clit, the toes, and she was getting so close, so close….
Tiffany wasn’t even aware that she was moaning, over and over, oh yessss,
Oh God yesss, feel so goooood. And Jagger spat out the words and the music of
the Stones filled the Lincoln, which smelled strongly of musky teenaged pussy:
“Under my thumb, The squirmin’ dog who’s just had her day, Under my
thumb, A girl who has just changed her ways, It’s down to me, yes it ism, The
way she does just what she’s told, Down to me, the change has come, She’s
under my thumb.”
And as she got closer, images from Mr. White’s stories kept flashing
through her mind, disgusting things, hateful things, about girls being fucked by
dogs, being raped by old men, being tied down and whipped, on their bare ass,
being fucked with beer bottles and baseball bats, and being whipped, and
fucked, and fucked up the ass, and dogs’ cocks, and she had no choice, she had
to give in to them, it was out of her hands, she was their slave, she was a sex
slave, and she was getting closer, she was almost there…
“That’s enough, guys!” ordered Mr. White, who’d been watching in the rear
view mirror. Instantly, Brown and Black stopped what they were doing,
withdrew their hands.
“Nooooo!” wailed the poor cheerleader, jolted from her dark and jumbled
fantasy. She was teetering right on the brink of the biggest climax of her life.
Without even thinking, she whipped both hands down to her clit and began to
rub it in a frenzy, trying to get over that edge. And again, she was thwarted, as
the two men each grabbed a wrist and yanked her hands away.
“Pleeeeease! Pleeeeease!” the blonde beauty pleaded.
“No way, Princess,” said White coldly. “You don’t come until we do. But
this is our exit, and we’re five minutes from school, so let’s end the evening
with a bang, so to speak, and we’ll all get our ya-yas out.”
“A Siamese cat of a girl, Under my thumb, She’s the sweetest, mmm, pet in
the world,” sang Jagger in his anthem of dominance and control. Tiffany’s mind
was a tangle of dark thoughts, unholy fantasies and images that she had never
thought of in her 16 years, but over all, overwhelmingly, the desire to cum.
Then she felt something, tickling her clit. She opened her eyes, and saw that
Mr. Brown was bending over her lap, over her obscenely splayed thighs and
wide-open pussy, holding the plastic straw from his soft drink, and blowing on
her clit!
It tickled. Wildly. It stimulated her, but not enough. The short puffs of his
breath struck her clit, and where normally it would not bother her at all, now it
was the most maddening thing she had ever felt. It was if the blasts of air were
keeping her clit super-sensitive, keeping her aware of her own pussy, her deep
and abiding horniness. Her head rolled back against the seat, her hair flying
from side to side as Brown and Black securely held her wrists.
“You ready to cum, Princess?” whispered Black. “You ready?”
“Yes! Yes! Please!” she begged.
“Here’s the school parking lot,” said White, as Green, in the front seat, shut
off the video camera that had been recording Tiffany’s frenzied begging for an
orgasm. “Joe, would you go unlock the cafeteria? Not much longer, Princess
Tiffany, and you’ll have some orgasms you’ll never forget.” He didn’t add,
because he didn’t need to, that she wouldn’t be the only one.

Chapter Nine: The One With Tongues Planted Firmly in Cheeks

Tiffany practically had to be carried from the SUV into the school
cafeteria. Her leg muscles had gotten sore from striding around the mall in the
highest high heels she had ever worn. Then she had endured the half-hour drive
back from the mall with her long legs obscenely spread into the widest possible
splits, each ankle trapped in a back seat window on either side. Her legs were
killing her, and she was having trouble walking.
In addition, she was still intensely focused on having an orgasm, and her
four tormentors were just as determined that she not have one just yet. Every
time they relaxed their vigilance, the 16-year-old cheerleader would steal a
hand down between the damp blonde public curls of her pussy and began
pushing her clit as if it were an elevator button and she was impatiently
waiting. The horrible images from the stories that Mr. White had told her
continued to spin in her young, impressionable mind, making her hotter than
she had ever been, and ashamed at how they had affected her. She had to cum,
dammit! the horny and confused girl thought. She just had to. Maybe cumming
would release the grip the stories had on her, she rationalized with the part of
her brain that was still capable of some level of thought.
So it was for the best that John Brown and Tom Green each slipped one of
Tiffany’s arms around their shoulder and half-walked, half-carried the glazed,
trembling girl into the deserted cafeteria, which Old Joe the janitor had gone
ahead and unlocked. They laid her down on a long table in the center of the
room, its fake-wood laminate cold against her bare skin.
“Pleeeze,” she murmured, although she wasn’t even sure any more what
she was asking them to do? Let her go? Let her cum? Some of both? She just
knew that right now she was in hell.
“How’s that little pussy, Princess?” asked Principal White. “Does the little
Princess want to cum?” Tiffany felt something wet trickle down out of her
virgin opening and start moving down her thigh. Oh God, was she starting her
period? She was mortified, but she had to find out. She reached down one
index finger and wiped at the sticky goo and looked at it. It was clear, so it
wasn’t her period. She was so sexually over-stimulated that her pussy was
actually leaking lubrication onto her body, and running down onto the lunch
table!
“Yes, sir, I want to cum,” she answered. God, the shame, she thought.
Nearly nude, in her own school lunch room, begging this man for an orgasm.
“Well, as I told you, we’re going to help you, Princess Tiffany. It’s going to
feel so good. But we’re going to trade orgasms. You make us cum, we’ll make
you cum. And since we’ve promised you that we’ll let you stay a virgin, we’re
going to cum in your ass. That’s right, Princess. It’s time for a gang bang in
Tiffany Daniels’ virgin asshole!” He was practically shouting in jubilation,
power and lust.
“Oh nooo!” Tiffany cried and started to get up from the table. Instantly
powerful male hands pushed her back down on her back. She struggled to get
up, but Old Joe was pinning her shoulders to the table while Mr. Brown slipped
off the Spandex miniskirt. Joe grabbed her halter, which was barely tied in
place, and yanked upward, pulling it off. The sweet teen was stark naked,
pinned like a beautiful to the lunchroom table.
“Don’t, oh please don’t do this!” she wailed in panic as Brown pulled on
her knees, moving them up to her chest. While he held them there, Mr. Green
grabbed her flailing arms by the wrists and pulled her wrists around her
bunched-up legs until her hands were underneath her legs. He quickly snapped
the handcuffs that had imprisoned Tiffany before onto her wrists.
Breathing heavily from the exertion, the men stood back to examine their
beautiful captive. She lay on her back on the table, her knees pulled up to her
chest. Her arms circled down below the backs of her knees, where they were
locked in place by the cuffs. She could not move her arms now, nor could she
lower her knees. The most important part of the arrangement, as Tiffany was
about to find out, was that it left her sweet little bunghole poking out between
her gorgeous round ass cheeks. The little rosebud was completely exposed and
defenseless as it winked nervously near the edge of the table.
Tiffany was moaning and shaking her head from side to side as the men
rubbed their erections inside their pants. They’d been playing with her all night,
exposing her in public, forcing her to give blow jobs to strangers at the mall,
teasing her sexually, bringing her to a fever pitch, then abandoning her sexual
needs the moment before her climax. All four men, although well into middle
age, were as rampant as teenaged boys.
“Shut up!” barked White at the moaning, squirming girl. “Listen to my
voice!” he commanded. Tiffany forced herself to be quiet. “First of all, no one
can hear you, Princess, which is why we haven’t gagged you. But you need to
be quiet to listen to me. I want you to think very hard about the stories I just
told you, about what happened to Claire and Tara when they didn’t cooperate. I
want you to know that we aren’t fucking around here, and if you piss us off
you’ve got a visit to Dr. Wu coming, maybe even tonight. And you do NOT
want to go there, girl. Now take a couple of deep breaths, because this isn’t
going to be nearly as bad as you think. Mr. Brown, would you like to do first
honors?”
Tiffany stiffened her body, thinking that she was about to feel her teacher’s
cock probing at the opening of her ass, trying to penetrate that too-tight hole.
But she didn’t. Instead she felt something wonderful – smooth and warm and
wet. For a few second she resisted, but it just felt so good, and soon she began
to relax. As she let down her guard, her sphincter unclenched, and the warm,
wet object began to make little forays up inside her. It would push in a little,
then withdraw, and make lazy circles all over her asshole. It was beginning to
feel very good indeed. Suddenly the girl realized what was happening at her
backdoor. Her math teacher was licking her asshole with his tongue!
“It’s called analingus, Princess,” Mr. White explained. “Also known as a
rim job. It’s a little more sophisticated sexual technique than you and your
clumsy-fingered boyfriends as probably used to, or have even dreamt of. The
anus is as full of nerve endings as the vagina, and properly stimulated it’s one
of the most intense erogenous zones on the body. Plus saliva makes a
wonderful lubricant, as you relax, soon you’ll be able to take in something a
little harder than a tongue.”
Even though she knew what was coming eventually, Tiffany put it out of
her mind and concentrated on the good feelings. Her horniness had returned,
and now it was even stronger because of what her math teacher was doing. It
was so wicked, but so wonderful at the same time! While Brown licked, Tom
Green the English teacher reached between Tiffany’s legs and placed his first
two fingers on either side of her clitoris and began massaging it gently. The
feelings on her clit and the feelings in her ass began to merge and mingle. She’d
never realized how close the two were, never thought of her own ass as
anything erotic.
“How’s that feel, Princess?” asked White.
“Mmmmmmm,” was all Tiffany could reply. Her defenses were coming
down, as her math teacher continued to tongue her asshole. As she relaxed, he
was able to push his tongue further and further up inside her warm, moist
rectum. Green, meanwhile, continued to work over her hot, throbbing clit,
careful not to tip the horny youngster over the brink into an orgasm just yet.
Tiffany Daniels had forgotten that she was stark naked, that she was laying
on a table in her own high school cafeteria, that she was handcuffed. The
sensations on her clit and in her little bunghole were indescribable, better than
anything she had ever felt.
“How’s that taste, John?” asked the principal.
“Tasty as can be,” said Brown, taking a break draw a breath. “Her pussy’s
runnin’ like nobody’s business, and the juice is like pure nectar.”
“OK, Princess,” said White. “Remember we were talking about a trade?
Well, fair’s fair. You’re getting a hot tongue stuffed up your ass, and now it’s
time to reciprocate.” Tiffany felt the table shift and opened her eyes, and
realized that her principal, Roger White, was now naked and climbing up onto
the table. He knelt so that one knee was on either side of her head, as he faced
her feet. His ass hovered above her face, and slowly he started to lower it.
“Come on, Princess. You can feel how good that tongue is working on
your ass. Turnabout’s fair play. I want to feel your tongue up my ass.” And he
lowered his bulky frame so that his big hairy ass hovered just an inch above the
cheerleader’s mouth. Tiffany drifted in a dream state of confusion and
horniness. She knew what her principal was asking her to do was grosser than
gross, something that even a few days ago would have made her run screaming
from the room. But she also knew that she had no choice, she had been reduced
to a sex slave, she had to do it. She stuck out her tongue as the principal
lowered his buttocks the last inch and settled his own ass crack right onto the
beauty’s mouth. Her first thought was that it wasn’t as bad as she thought. It
tasted weird, like apple cider or something, but it wasn’t all that nasty, really, if
she didn’t think about what she was really doing. She moved her tongue a little.
“Oh, yeah, Princess, that’s right, use that tongue. Lick that ass,” ordered
White. Tiffany complied, licking back and forth along White’s ass crack. His
erection bobbed in the air out in front of him, and he bent slightly at the waist
so that he could rub the head of his cock, which was swollen with blood and
oozing pre-cum, over the girl’s large, erect nipples. The sensation of having her
nipples stimulated added to the delicious massaging on her clit and the
incredible oral reaming of her asshole, and Tiffany felt herself getting closer
and closer to orgasm.
Tiffany moaned into her principal’s asshole and continued to work her
tongue. It was all so nasty, so humiliating, and yet so wonderful. Her whole
body was on fire. Maybe soon, she thought, they’d let her cum. She felt
Brown’s mouth leave her ass, and then something different. Something much
harder. She knew it must be the head of his cock pushing against her rectum,
knew she was about to be violated. But she also knew she had no choice. She
couldn’t see a thing except her principal’s ass, so she just concentrated on the
feeling of her clit getting rubbed.
Brown pushed slowly, gently, and eased his cock up into the cheerleader’s
ass. It was so tight. So hot. So moist. But his analingus and the girl’s own
secretions had gotten her plenty wet, and she was relaxed from the erotic
attentions, and didn’t seem to be in any pain. Brown pushed forward, inch by
inch, letting his cock luxuriate in the feeling of Tiffany’s rectum.
Finally, he was all the way in. His coarse pubic hair tickled her labia.
Tiffany Daniels, once the most stuck-up cock tease in school, was getting
fucked up the ass by her math teacher. Brown pulled out slowly, then pushed in
again. As he stroked, her ass relaxed and opened up even more. Soon he had a
slow but steady rhythm going, in and out, in and out, pumping his cock up
inside her shitter.
White climbed off the table and Old Joe Black the janitor took his place.
With her eyes closed, Tiffany was only vaguely aware of the movement. But
she realized that a different male asshole was now plastered over her mouth,
one that smelled and tasted different – a little stronger, but still not bad. She
didn’t even think about what was happening, she just plunged her tongue
upward and began to give a teenaged rim job to the school janitor.
Brown plunged his cock into the girl over and over. Like all of the men, he
was so horny and the girl was so tight that he wasn’t going to last long. He
could feel his balls churning and tightening in his scrotum, and he gaze Green a
thumbs up that he was about to cum. Green pulled out the pink vibrator they
had used on Tiffany in the Lincoln and jammed it up inside her pussy, already
turned on and buzzing madly. He pinched her clit between his thumb and
forefinger and began to squeeze it rhythmically, gently but firmly.
The beautiful young victim nearly went insane when the vibrator hit her
sensitive pussy and her English teacher upped the ante on her love button. She
was getting fucked up the ass with one cock, fucked up the pussy with a fake
cock, her clit felt like it was about to explode. And then it did. Tiffany Daniels
launched into her orgasm just as Mr. Brown’s cock swelled even larger and
began to pump a huge load of sperm up into her bowels.
Tiffany screamed with pleasure, but the scream was trapped by Old Joe’s
buttocks covering her mouth. The scream went right up into his asshole. Her
hips bucked up and down wildly, her entire body tensed and went rigid, the
muscles in her rectum clamped down ferociously on Brown’s cock as he
emptied gush after gush of hot semen up into her bowels. Green could hardly
hold onto the girl’s slick clit as she writhed frantically on the cafeteria table. It
was as if her entire body was being jolted by blasts of electricity as she jumped
and wiggled.
“Mmmmmppffffffff!” the girl bellowed with pleasure into Joe’s asshole.
The janitor raised himself up a couple of inches, depriving himself of the
pleasure of her rim job so that everyone could hear her orgasm. “Yessssss! Oh
God yesssssss!” the cheerleader yelled as she continued to cum. Finally, after
about 10 long seconds, she began to subside, and Brown withdrew his cock,
which was still stiff, and now coated with his own jism and Tiffany’s juices.
“Who’s next?” he asked with a leer. In a flash, Tom Green, her English
teacher, had moved to the edge of the table where her asshole, now gaping
open somewhat, waited, poised, to be filled again. He didn’t wait, but plunged
his tool in immediately. Unlike Mr. Brown, he didn’t have to ease her into the
anal fucking. He just shoved his cock in, as hard and as far as he could.
Tiffany’s eyes bulged out in surprise, but she was well-greased enough that it
didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt good to be filled up again.
“Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah,” she started muttering. Her head whipped
from side to side, banging against Black’s thighs. White motioned for the
janitor to climb down off the table, and he did so. As soon as he was down,
White aimed the video camera at the young beauty’s face.
“Tell us what you want, Princess,” the principal said. “If you like that
feeling, tell us!”
“Feels so good!” Tiffany managed. “More! More! More!”
“Tell us exactly, Princess, or we’re gonna stop and you won’t be allowed to
cum anymore,” the older man guided her.
“I want to cum!” she panted. “Cum! Cum! Cum!” The former cock tease
had been teased for so long that now, when she was finally being granted a
sexual release, she had entered another plane of existence. She was barely
aware of the men around her, focusing only on the incredible feelings coming
from her pussy and ass. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and White’s voice
seemed to come from some distant place, an order that she had to follow to
keep the good vibrations coming. As Green stood at the foot of the table,
plunging his cock in and out of the teenager’s ass, he reached down between her
upturned legs, between her handcuffed wrists, and located her clit with his
fingers. He began again to rub it, again sending the girl shooting upward.
“Do you like the cock up your ass, Tiffany?” asked White. “Do you like
having your clit rubbed? Tell us what you like, Tiffany, or we’ll stop.”
“Don’t stop!” she moaned. “Please don’t stop! Make me cum! Fuck my ass!
Play with my clit! Please fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, don’t stop!” The
more she said it, the more she felt it. Her desire now permeated her whole
being, became her entire being. White focused the camera tightly on the girl’s
face as she begged to be fucked in the ass. It would be the perfect climax, so to
speak, of the video scrapbook the men had been compiling, the one he was
mentally calling “Toying With Tiffany.”
Tiffany wasn’t the only one who felt as if she’d been teased for the past few
hours. Green and the other men were practically going out of their minds with
unslaked lust, and the juicy friction of his cock rubbing against the walls of the
cheerleader’s rectum soon proved to be more than he could bear. Even though
he wanted to make it last, he was soon ready to blast her ass with another load
of sperm.
Tiffany felt her teacher’s cock head swell inside her ass; it felt like it was
the size of a tennis ball. But it was the magic fingers diddling her clit that had
most of her concentration, as the youngster approached her second orgasm of
the night. She had forgotten about White’s instructions, and was now just
screaming for more of her own free will.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Make me cum!” The English teacher
obliged her, groaning loudly as he emptied his balls into the student. He
roughly gripped her clit and shook it from side to side, like a dog playing with
an old sneaker, and Tiffany once again went rigid with an overwhelming
orgasm. White turned off the camcorder, having gotten the footage he wanted.
He was dying to fuck the blonde cheerleader, and had moved around to stand
behind Mr. Green. Mere seconds after Green had withdrawn, White rammed
his hard-on deep into the girl’s bowels. In Tiffany’s swirling, lust-crazed mind,
it was as if the ass-fucking had never stopped.
Joe Black looked at the girl laying on the table, the bitch-princess who had
never even noticed his existence as he pushed his mop and bucket around the
halls of Daniels High. Her mouth was open and she was breathing heavily, and
he decided he wanted to put that mouth to more good use. So he climbed back
up onto the cafeteria table, knees planted on either side of Tiffany’s head again,
and lowered himself onto the cheerleader’s face. His aim was true, and he
managed to maneuver his dangling scrotum right into her gaping mouth.
Tiffany was startled by having her mouth suddenly full of the janitor’s
heavy balls, but by this point she was on automatic pilot, and just moaned. Her
moaning vibrated her mouth, which vibrated Joe’s testicles, giving him the
most exquisite pleasure imaginable. He just knelt there, unmoving, letting his
scrotum get a hum-job from the teenager. His cock, huge and purple, waved in
front of him like a divining rod, one that sensed teenaged ass instead of water.
As Tiffany tickled the janitor’s balls with her tongue, Principal White was
practically a blur between her legs. She was now slick enough from two
massive doses of semen shot up her butt that he could ram away on the girl as if
she were a piece of meat, which is exactly what he did. He did not neglect her
pussy and clit, though, knowing that if he could give her a third orgasm, she
would clench her muscles so tightly that he would have one of the greatest
orgasms ever.
Joe pulled his balls, wet with teen saliva, from Tiffany’s mouth, and
scooted down the table a short distance. He knew their time was growing short,
and he wanted some more rimming from the girl. He saw that Brown had
picked up the camcorder and moved in close, framing the shot so that all that
could be seen was Tiffany’s face, glazed with lust and drool, and the
anonymous midsection of a middle aged black man hovering over her. Joe
lowered himself down onto Tiffany’s face as the camcorder captured every
moment.
“Lick my ass, Princess!” Joe commanded. “Ream me out with your tongue.
The farther you get your tongue up my ass, the bigger the orgasm you’re gonna
get.” Tiffany was at a point where everything said to her seemed like a
command she had to obey, and she obediently stiffened her tongue and drove it
as far as she could up between the janitor’s butt cheeks. She penetrated his anus
with her tongue, and kept going, inch by inch, until her tongue began to ache.
“Now wiggle that tongue, Princess,” Joe ordered, and Tiff again obeyed,
moving her tongue as best she could within Joe’s tight asshole, giving the man
the sweetest rim job he had ever had in his life. She was so insane with lust that
she was barely aware of the musky, sweaty odor and taste of the asshole she
was rimming wildly. Inevitably, White’s orgasm hit, just as Tiffany’s third
orgasm of the night launched like a Saturn 5. For the third time, she felt wave
after wave of pleasure wrack her delightful young body as her principal
emptied his seed into her.
Joe reluctantly climbed down from his perch on Tiffany’s face. He had
fucked plenty of girls at Daniels High during his recent career of blackmail and
humiliation, but the rim jobs had been a recent addition to the gang’s repertoire,
one that combined extreme pleasure for them with extreme degradation for the
victim. But his monster cock needed satisfying, and he moved into position
with the head at the entrance to Tiffany’s bunghole. Joe had gone last for a
reason. Although racial stereotypes frequently are false, in this case there was
some truth. Joe Black was hung like a stallion, and the other men had
discovered a while back that if they let him go first, he would ream the girl in
question so far that she wouldn’t be tight enough for them. So Joe had become
the clean-up hitter, and now he rammed his baseball bat of a cock home into
the cheerleader.
“Ahhhhhh!” Tiffany screamed, this time in pain. Even with a thoroughly
reamed-out asshole swimming in semen to provide lubrication, Joe’s Dirk
Diggler of a dick hurt. “Noooo!” she wailed. “Take it out! It hurts.” But Joe
ignored, and while his comrades in torment watched, began to fuck the girl’s
ass in earnest. In and out, in and out he pumped, and gradually Tiffany’s
protests subsided as she got used to the ravishing. White unlocked her
handcuffs, which allowed her to spread her legs. He took her hands and placed
them on her pussy, and instantly her fingers began a frantic dance on the
surface of her clit, rubbing the hard, swollen nubbin for all it was worth.
Soon she was once again screaming, “Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Make me cum!”
as another orgasm built in the girl. When it hit her, it was the biggest one yet.
Her blue eyes rolled back in her head, her face went red, her whole body rigid.
Green had leaned over her with both hands and was tugging on her erect
nipples, pulling them gently but firmly upwards, adding to her pleasure. As her
muscles tightened, her rectum clamped down on Old Joe’s prick, and he began
to cum, gushing his hot sperm up inside her, the fourth time in the evening she
had gotten an ass full of thick, salty semen. After a few moments, the cafeteria
was completely quiet. Tiffany and Old Joe were both panting. White and Green
were already pulling their pants on. It had been quite an evening, but tomorrow
was a school day!
“So Princess,” asked Mr. Brown, “what did you think about your first
fuck?” Tiffany was coming back to reality, realizing where she was and what
had happened. The buzzing in her firm young body was dying down, and she
was now very aware that she was laying naked on a table in the school
cafeteria, that she had been fucked up the ass by four men. And the worst part
was, she had wanted it! She had begged for it!
Suddenly a wave of shame and humiliation washed over the confused girl.
All those names they had called her on the way to the mall, slut and whore. It
was true! She was a slut, a whore, a worthless scumbag. She hadn’t wanted
them to do this, but when they did, she had liked it! How could she face them
again? How could she face her parents, her friends, her little sister Stephanie?
The day had been a long one. It had started that morning with Principal
White putting ants up her ass and her pussy, which she had suffered with
through the school day. Then had come the humiliating trip to the mall, the
blow jobs, being forced to strip in front of other people, the horrible songs,
everything. And after all that had been done to her, her response had been to
get excited and cum over and over!
“Up you go, Princess Tiffany,” said Mr. Green, helping her sit up on the
table. She was so embarrassed, and put one arm across her breasts to shield
them from the view of the men. They all laughed, and she realized how absurd
it was to try to cover herself.
“Here’s the clothes you came to school in,” White said, holding out a bag.
“You need to wear them home so nobody gets suspicious. We’ll keep all the
stuff we got at the mall here at school. Now get dressed, and you can just make
it home on time.” He patted her condescendingly on the head, as if she were a
five- year-old or a puppy dog that had successfully been paper-trained. In a
daze, Tiffany got dressed.
“Tomorrow morning, I want you to report to my office first thing in the
morning,” White told her. “Don’t even think about calling in sick, or I’ll plan an
audio tape of you begging to be fucked in the ass over the loudspeaker for the
morning announcement. It’ll seem like an accident, and I’ll be safely
somewhere else when it happens. But just imagine how your girlfriends on the
cheerleading squad will react when they hear your voice. Or even better, just
imagine your sister Stephanie sitting in freshman homeroom, listening to her
big sister hollering “Make me cum!
“So tomorrow morning, first thing, my office,” he repeated to make sure
she understand in her dazed and confused state. “After all, tomorrow is another
day!”

Chapter 10: The One With The Dress Code Violations

The alarm went off, and Tiffany slapped it, shutting it off. She awoke from
a deep dream, an erotic dream, in which her naked nubile body was stretched
out in an X and being fondled by anonymous men, and in which she was
having orgasm after orgasm. She realized she was alone, in her own bed, in her
own bedroom, and that her pussy was wet with excitement.
Suddenly, the events of the previous day came flooding back to her in a
jumble of memories. The ants in the pants, the boys cheering her in the
hallway, the humiliating trip to the mall, the clerk at the Rave and the others
ogling her naked breasts in public, the anal gang bang in the school cafeteria.
She had been raped by her principal, her English and math teachers, and the
school janitor. Her ass, she realized, was a little bit sore, but she wasn’t really in
much pain.
But was it rape, she wondered. She had cum, harder than she had ever cum
in her life from her experiments with masturbation. She had begged for them to
do it to her, given herself over to the lust. They had told her she was a slut, and
she had acted just like a slut. Nothing in her pampered privileged upbringing
had prepared her for such a situation. She was from one of the upstanding local
families – the high school was even named after her grandfather, Godfrey
Daniels! – and her parents were rich. She was beautiful, popular, envied,
admired. Boys wanted her, but she had always called the tune. Now others
were calling the tune, and it felt … well, young Tiffany was ambivalent about
how it felt. It felt awful, demeaning and degrading, but it also felt kind of
exciting. After all, her pussy was wet. What more evidence did she need?
There was a knock at the door, and her little sister Stephanie, 14, burst in,
full of girlish excitement as usual. Tiffany thought that if possible, her sister
was going to be even more gorgeous than she was. She hadn’t yet sprouted big
breasts like Tiffany’s, and her figure was still coltish: long legs just beginning
to take on their womanly shape, thin hips just starting to fill out. She was tall,
though, like Tiffany, and blonde and tanned and fit.
“Hey sis, what’s up?” said Steph. “Can you take me to school today? I
really, really don’t want to ride the bus. Those awful Davis twins have been
sitting next to me and trying to feel me up. Please don’t make me ride the bus.”
Tiffany felt sorry for the younger girl. If only she knew that life could hand her
a far worse situation than a couple of 14-year-old boys brushing up against her
on the bus and giggling, trying to cop cheap feels. But Tiffany couldn’t tell her
sister, couldn’t tell anyone about the horrible situation she was in, lest she end
up at Dr. Wu’s cabin in the woods for an all-night session, the way her principal
had threatened. She shuddered at the thought.
“Sure, honey, I’ll take you. Be ready in about 45 minutes.”
As they drove to Daniels High in Tiffany’s Miata, top down, the breeze
ruffling their hair, Stephanie suddenly asked, “What happened to you
yesterday?” Tiffany stiffened.
“What do you mean?”
“I just heard this weird story, that you changed clothes in the middle of the
day and you were wearing this really short pleated skirt and a white blouse, and
some people said you weren’t wearing a bra. And then I heard that between 5th
and 6th period you were out in the hall and your blouse was all wet and boys
started making fun of you. And I just couldn’t believe that anybody would have
the guts to make fun of you or that you would really dress like that.” What
should she respond? The truth was out, but if she said it never happened,
Stephanie was bound to find out otherwise. She couldn’t squeal on her
tormentors or they would make the videos public as they had threatened, so she
in the uncomfortable position of having to pretend it was all her idea. There
was no other way.
“Yeah, sis, I just got sick of always wearing the same tame stuff to school,
so I went for a sexier look, and I guess I took it a little far. And you know guys,
they went a little nuts. So I learned a lesson.” She glanced at Stephanie. The
younger girl digested the story and nodded. The ruse had worked.
They pulled into the school lot and parked, then hugged goodbye.
Stephanie went off to her first period class, and Tiffany went off to Principal
White’s office, as she had been ordered to do the previous night. When she got
there, she noticed that the usual receptionist, an elderly battle-axe named Mrs.
Milano, was not at her desk Roger White stepped out of his office and
motioned her inside.
“Sometimes the fates just work in a person’s favor,” he told Tiffany. “Mrs.
Milano’s husband had to go into the hospital, and she’s taking a couple days off.
I figured I could get by without her. And it’s one less person to notice your
comings and goings. Speaking of coming, how are you this morning,
Princess?” he leered.
“I’m fine, sir,” Tiffany said, flushing. She hated the “princess” business,
but guesses it was better than the filthy names they had been calling her before.
And she was embarrassed by the reference to last night, and to her own mixed
feelings about it all. White closed the office door and locked it. The 16-year-old
cheerleader was alone with her main tormentor.
“Time to get naked, Princess,” he ordered. Tiffany, not surprised anymore
by the outrageous demands of cruel men, obediently stripped. She paused at her
bra and panties, but Principal White just glared at her and waved a hand to
continue, and she did so. Within a minute, she stood stark naked in his office.
“I went through all the clothes and stuff we collected last night to pick out
your outfit for today, Princess Tiffany,” he said. “As much as I like novelty, I
decided that the slut clothes you wore at the mall would be the best for school
today. Here they are. Put them on.” He handed her the obscenely short black
Spandex miniskirt and the skimpy black halter tape with the Nike knock-off
that read “Just Do Me.” On his desk, she noticed the high-heeled black pumps
she had worn last night.
“Oh please don’t make me wear these,” Tiffany begged. She couldn’t bear
the thought of her friends and classmates seeing her in such a revealing outfit
for the entire day. God almighty she thought, Britney Spears wouldn’t even
wear these for a photo shoot!
“I thought I told you I don’t want any back-talk or disagreement,” White
said unpleasantly. “Now get ’em on. And leave the panties and bra on the floor.
You’ll be doing without underwear today.” Tiffany was mortified, but again
told herself she had no choice. She was their slave, their plaything, their toy,
and had to do as she was told. The alternatives – release of the blackmail videos
to her friends and families, the postings on the Internet, possible even a trip to
Dr. Wu – were far worse than strutting around school all day in a slutty outfit.
Anxious to cover her nudity, the blonde beauty quickly dressed. As before,
the micro-mini came down only a couple of inches below the cheeks of her ass,
and her large breasts barely fit into the too-small halter. Her tits bulged out at
the sides of the halter and threatened to spill out over the top completely. She
stepped into the high heels, elevating her 5-foot-7 frame to nearly 6 feet tall,
and stood before White.
“Now don’t move a muscle, girl,” he said harshly. “I hear that slit skirts are
all the rage these days, and I wanted to make sure you were fashionable.” He
pulled a pair of fabric shears out of a desk drawer and knelt in front of Tiffany.
Grasping the hem of the skirt in his left hand, he used the shears to begin
cutting her dress. He snipped carefully along the ride side, from the hem up to
the waistband, and then repeated the cutting on the left side, hem to waistband.
Tiffany was horrified. The dress had been terrible enough before, but now her
long, tanned legs were completely bare up to the waist. Depending on how she
moved or sat, she would have to be very careful or she would inadvertently
expose her ass or pussy. And she wasn’t even wearing any underwear!
“Mr. White,” she stammered, “I can’t go to classes like this! I’m practically
naked!”
“That you are, my dear, that you are. You know what might help? A
couple of safety pins. You could pin the dress on each side and then it wouldn’t
be flopping open and exposing your charms for every boy in the school to ogle.
Would you like some safety pins to pin your skirt?”
“Yes, please,” the humiliated cheerleader answered meekly.
“I happen to have some right here,” he said. “But you’re going to have to
earn them. Why don’t we change positions? I’ll stand up, and you can kneel in
front of me and see if you can figure out a way to earn your safety pins before
the first bell rings. You have five minutes.” The abused girl knew what he
wanted, and decided it was best to get it over with. On her knees, she unzipped
White’s fly and pulled his cock out through the opening of his boxers. Leaning
forward, she wrapped her lips tightly around the swelling purple head and
began to suck. She wrapped her fingers around the length of the shaft and
began a gentle but insistent tugging motion, jacking him off while she blew
him.
“Oh, my, that is just excellent, Princess. You’re getting to be really good at
this. What a great little cock-sicker you’ve turned out to be!” Tiffany’s face
burned with shame, but she kept on sucking. Within a few minutes, she felt the
principal’s dick head begin to swell, and she could taste the pre-cum oozing out
onto her tongue. She sucked harder than ever as he started jamming his crotch
forcefully into her face, shoving his cock deeper and deeper.
“Swallow it all, Princess,” he ordered, and suddenly his cum was
exploding into her mouth. She dutifully kept her lips clamped around his cock,
and allowed the gushes of cum to flow over her tongue and down her throat.
Her swallowing caused her throat muscles to milk White’s cock even more,
until finally he was done.
“Here are your safety pins,” he said, handing her two small ones. Tiffany
looked down to her sides, trying to figure out the best way to preserve her
modesty, and finally decided to place each safety pin about half-way up each
slit in her skirt. If she put them at the bottom, she figured, the entire slip would
gap when she sat down, exposing more skin. But no matter what she did, she
knew, she was in for a school day of far more exposure than she had had the
day before.
“On your way now, Princess,” Principal White said as the first bell of the
day rang. “And I want to see you back here in my office between every single
class. Since Mrs. Milano isn’t in, just walk on in. And if you miss a period,
we’ll see what we can do about making sure everybody sees that video we’ve
been compiling. Maybe we can project it on the wall during halftime of the
homecoming game!” he teased.
Tiffany rushed off to first period, which unfortunately was algebra with
Mr. Brown. As she walked quickly through the halls, all the students around
her just stopped and stared. Tiffany Daniels, the most stuck-up cheerleader in
school, was wearing a skirt so short it barely covered her ass, teetering on high
heels, and nearly bursting out of a tight halter top that invited “JUST DO ME.”
“Whoa, Tiffany!” shouted a senior boy as she brushed past. “Even better
than yesterday!” “Tiffany Tits!” yelled another, and everyone laughed. She
flushed crimson, and kept moving, her ears ringing with their mockery. Finally
she reached Mr. Brown’s math class. and hurried to her seat. A boy in the back
of the room whistled, and again everyone laughed. There was an excited
murmur among the boys, and Tiffany knew they were all ogling her and talking
about her. Their lustful gazes burned her exposed skin. Out of the corner of her
eye, she saw several adjust their pants, and knew they had sprouted hard-ons.
They were fantasizing about her!
“Quite an entrance, Miss Daniels,” Mr. Brown said with a smirk as the
second bell rang. “Did you come to class today to participate or disrupt?” Damn
him, thought Tiffany. He knows exactly what White has done, and he’s just
taunting me. And I can’t say a thing against him.
“To participate sir,” she replied.
“Very good, then. Class, open your books to Unit 8, quadratic equations,
and Miss Daniels, you can do the first problem at the blackboard.” The bastard,
thought Tiffany. He’s gonna play me like a fish. But she got up, wobbling
slightly on her heels, and tugged her skirt down to cover her ass. The room was
hushed as she walked to the board and began writing in chalk as Mr. Brown
dictated a problem to her.
She could hear the whispering, and feel the hot stares of the boys. She
knew her ass was the focus of every thought in the room. At least her back was
to them,. and they couldn’t stare at her breasts. Her hand shook as she tried to
follow what Mr. Brown was saying, and the formula she wrote on the board
was a mess. She looked at it and didn’t have the slightest idea how to solve it.
“Go ahead, Miss Daniels,” Brown said haughtily. Tiffany didn’t move, and
soon snickers were mixed in among the whispers. She heard a whisper from the
back of the room, intentionally loud enough to reach her ears. “What’s the
square root of piece of ass?” one boy asked. “Speaking of root,” said his friend,
“I’d like to sink my root into that!”
“That’s enough, fellas,” Mr. Brown said sternly, but he was smiling as he
said it. “Miss Daniels, it appears your unusual attire today is distracting the
class after all. Perhaps you’d better have a seat.” Grateful, but totally
humiliated, Tiffany sat back down. It seemed as if no time until the bell rang
signaling the end of first period, and Tiffany marched glumly back to White’s
office, again through a chorus of catcalls from horny boys who now lined the
halls, waiting to see the biggest cock tease in school in an outfit that made
Victoria’s Secret models look modest by comparison. White was waiting for
her, and her stomach turned over when she saw he had the shears out.
“Time for another alteration, Princess. How was math?” Tiffany just
looked at the floor as White approached her, and moved around behind her.
This time he grabbed the back of her tiny skirt and cut a slit all the way up the
rear, exactly following the crack of her ass, all the way to the waistband. Her
naked ass now hung out, completely exposed! She instinctively reached around
behind herself to close the gaping skirt around her delicious young ass, but
White reached out and smacked her hands away.
“I kind of like you like that, Tiffany,” he said, “and I’ll bet the boys will,
too. I wonder if there’s anything we can do to help the situation?” Tiffany saw
where the game was going.
“Can I please have some more safety pins, sir?” she asked.
“More than one?” White replied. “Goodness, I don’t know about more than
one. Can you earn more than one?” Not even knowing what he would ask,
Tiffany knew that her only chance to survive this hellish day was to get out of
his office with her skirt pinned rather than flapping wide open exposing her
entire ass.
“I’ll earn them, Mr. White. What do you want?”
“Gee, Princess, I just came an hour ago, and I’m not the young buck I used
to be. I don’t know if I’m quite ready to cum again. So it’ll have to be something
else. How about a little addition to our video, Toying With Tiffany?” He had
been planning this all along, and quickly pulled out the digital camcorder. “I
want you to look and speak directly into the camera, tell us your name, and
then talk for a minute about what a slut you are. I want you to be nasty, and
vulgar, and crude, but most of all creative, If I approve of the first take, you get
safety pins. If I think you’re being too coy, out you go into the hallways, bare-
assed.” The beleaguered teenager swallowed hard, knowing she had no choice.
They already had so much on tape, what was one more minute? White swung
the camcorder eyepiece to his eye, hit the record button, and Tiffany began.
“Hello, my name is Tiffany Daniels.” She paused, not knowing where to
go. But she had to make herself, had to get those safety pins! “And, I’m, uh, uh,
I’m a slut. I’m 16 years old and I uh, like to masturbate, and uh…” she trailed
off. White shut the camcorder off.
“Not good enough, Princess,” he barked. “That bell is gonna ring in two
minutes, and if I’m not happy, it’s gonna be an interesting rest of the day for
you. Now are you gonna do this little scene that’s only for me and the boys, or
are you gonna give the entire school a treat to remember? Now get nasty!” This
was agony, Tiffany thought, but she steeled herself and started again.
“My name is Tiffany Daniels, and I’m a slut,” she said. “I like to
masturbate. And I just got fucked in the ass for the first time. It happened last
night. These four older men stripped me naked and laid me on a table and they
took turns fucking my ass. I thought it was going to hurt but it didn’t, except for
this one guy, who I guess had a really big dick. And even with him, I had a
really big orgasm.” She did not even realize it, but she had become caught up in
re-telling her story, and was hardly aware of what she saying.
“And while they fucked me up the ass, some of the other guys made me
lick their assholes. They called it a rim job. I thought it would be really gross,
but it was OK. And I just had the best orgasms I’ve ever had in my life.” She
stopped. White lowered the camera.
“Nice work, Princess,” he said. “I think you earned your safety pins.
Would you like to do them or should I?” Tiffany didn’t want the older man
fumbling with her skirt, but she remembered everything he had done so far, and
it didn’t seem so bad by comparison. And she knew she couldn’t pin behind
herself properly. So she asked White to pin the gap, and he did, one pin near
the top and one near the bottom. There was still a slight gap in the skirt, and her
ass crack was visible slightly, but it was much better than it had been. She
hurried away, on to second period.
“Tiffany Daniels!” snapped Mrs. Wolfe, her second period science teacher.
“What is wrong with you girl?” Tiffany had walked into the science classroom
and the elderly teacher had instantly turned on her. “I realize this school doesn’t
have uniforms, but we do have a dress code that states students must be
modestly clad. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but that outfit is
not acceptable. Report to the principal’s office immediately. The classroom
snickered and guffawed. It was an entirely new batch of students, nearly all of
them seeing Tiffany for the first time. She had tried to slink quietly into the
room, but Mrs. Wolfe had called her up short.
“Please, ma’am, I’m sorry, but please don’t send me to the principal’s
office!” she pleaded.
“I’m sorry, Tiffany, but your rear end is practically hanging out of that
skirt.” The boys in the class exploded with laughter, and several yelled, “Hell
yeah!”
“And I won’t even repeat that message on your, er, top. Have you lost your
mind dressing like that? Now get to the principal’s office at once, and don’t
come back until you are decent! No argument! Go!” Tiffany bowed her head in
shame as the other students stamped and whistled, and slunk back to Principal
White’s office.
“Why Tiffany, back so soon?” he asked in mock surprise. “You must enjoy
coming here,” he mocked.
“Mrs. Wolfe sent me here,” she said grimly. She hated this game.
“Oh she did? Well, I’m not going to let you change into anything else, and
Mrs. Wolfe won’t let you back, so I guess you’ll just have to stay here for the
entire period.” He grinned wickedly. “Unfortunately, I have other business to
attend to. As much as I enjoy our little games, I still have a school to run. On
the other hand, I don’t want you at loose ends. Idle hands are the devil’s
playground, as I’m sure you know. So let’s make sure your hands aren’t idle. Go
ahead and have a seat in my chair here, and put your feet up on my desk. That’s
a girl. Now spread ’em nice and wide. Wider. Wider. Come on, remember last
night in the van? You can get your legs further apart than that.”
“There. Perfect.” Her skirt had ridden up to her waist, completely exposing
her naked pussy. “Now I want you to start masturbating. If you can get yourself
off, be my guest, but please don’t stain the leather seat with your secretions.
You will masturbate for the entire period. I will close the door so you won’t be
bothered, but you’re not allowed to lock it. I will come back at random times,
and when I open the door, you’d better be in exactly this position, with your
fingers in your crotch, playing with yourself. You got that, girl?”
“Yes sir,” Tiffany replied. At least he wasn’t going to cut her clothes up
anymore. She began to masturbate as the principal pulled the door to. At first
she was just going through the motions, but soon the solitude, and the
confusing memories of the sexual exploitation she was undergoing, and the
orgasms, began to mess with her young mind, and she became aroused. Unable
to help herself, she started thinking about the previous night, and what it had
felt like to have a man’s tongue probing her tender, virgin asshole. It had been
so warm, so moist, so thrilling. She’d never imagined something so nasty could
feel so good. Her fingers dug deep, and her little clit began to lift out from
under its hood. She gasped as her fingertips made contact with the button,
which had been worked over more in the past 24 hours than it had in her entire
life. But the little clit loved it, and wanted more, and more, and more.
Tiffany drifted, her naked legs splayed out obscenely on the principal’s
desk, her hands busy in her lap, bringing her closer and closer to another
orgasm, when suddenly, the door to the office burst open. The girl looked up,
expecting to see Roger White, and instead saw the Davis twins, Bret and Brian,
standing in the doorway staring at her.
“Whoa, dude, check it out,” said one. Tiffany had no idea which was
which. These were freshmen, beneath her contempt, nasty little boys. Normally
she would have squashed them with a glance.
“Hey, you’re that Tiffany Daniels the cheerleader!” said the other.
“Everybody’s talking about what a slut you’ve become. What the fuck are you
doing jerking off in the principal’s office?” Tiffany quickly pulled her legs off
the desk and tried to sit demurely in the chair, but she painfully aware of what
the boys had seen, and could still see.
“What the fuck are YOU doing here?” she screeched shrilly.
“The principal told us to walk on in and wait for him,” said one evil twin.
“He must not have known you were sittin’ in here playing with yourself. God,
you’re an even bigger slut than everyone says.”
“Can we see your pussy some more?” asked the other.
“No!” Tiffany yelped. God, this was the worst thing yet! These wretched
little boys had seen her masturbating and now they were going to tell the entire
school! “Listen, this isn’t what it looks like,” she said frantically. “Principal
White told me to come in here …” she trailed off. She realized she couldn’t tell
them the truth, how she was being blackmailed, or they’d have an even bigger
story to tell the school.
“Oh yeah, right,” said one Davis. “The principal told you to wait in his
office, so you sat in his chair and started playing with your pussy. Makes sense
to me!”
“Please,” pleaded the mortified teenager. “Please just go away and leave
me alone.”
“Yeah, well, I guess we could. But he told us to wait here. So we can’t. By
the way, where did you get that cool halter. JUST DO ME. Is that, like, an
invitation for guys to fuck you or something?” Tiffany was beyond mere hell.
Just then Principal White walked in and took in the scene he had obviously set
up. He smiled. Mother fucker, thought Tiffany.
“Goodness gracious, I’ve got a full office,” he said, pretending to be
unaware of what was going on. “I’m surprised to see you in here, Miss Daniels.
I hope you weren’t going through my files. Boys, I had intended to speak with
you about your grades, but I guess I need to speak to Miss Daniels first about
coming into my office. You go on back to class now.”
The twins grinned at each other. They didn’t know what was up, but they
knew they had just witnessed something that would spread like wildfire
throughout the school, as soon as they got done telling every single guy they
knew. Stephanie Daniels’ big sister, the most stuck-up bitch in school! They’d
seen her naked pussy! They trotted off, slowly, because of the boners they had
sprung in their pants.
“What a shame Mrs. Wolfe kicked you out of class, Princess,” the principal
said, continuing to toy with her. It’s almost time for third period, though. Time
for another modification for your outfit.”
“Oh God, please don’t do this to me, please sir please,” the poor girl
begged. “I’ll do anything. Please. I’ll suck your dick again. I’ll do the other
guys. Anything. But don’t make me go back out there.”
“Oh, you’ll do anything we want anyway, Tiffany,” he chortled. “Now
stand up and take your medicine.” He pulled out the shears and this time,
instead of going for the dress, he inserted them in the front of her halter, right
into her cleavage, and began carefully cutting downward. In seconds he
reached the bottom, and the tiny top, which had been terribly stretched to begin
with, parted. Her huge breasts sprang free, unfettered.
“Oh my, you’re really going to need a safety pin for that,” he smiled. “I
think one will do it, though.” He reached out and pulled the halves together and
ran the pin through them. They stayed closed, covering her bulging tits, but
only barely. A full two inches of bare cleavage now shown through from the
top of the halter to the bottom. She might as well have shown a spotlight on her
tits and walked around screaming, “Look at my tits, everybody!”
“There you go, Tiffany. Time for third period. See you after class!” She
had to do something. No way would she go to another class like this, her body
screaming for every male in the school to ogle her, a walking target for
teenaged lust. She ducked out of the principal’s office, ran down the hall, her
boobs bouncing so violently that they almost flew out of the halter, and ducked
into the girls’ restroom. She entered a stall and shut and locked the door. Safe.
For a while, anyway. Tiffany spent the next period in the restroom, trying to
remain calm. But soon the bell rang again, and she knew she had to go back to
White’s office. He was waiting, shears in hand.
“How nice to see you, Princess,” he said. “I have good news for you. This
will be the last cut.” And he put the shears at the front of her skirt and sliced
neatly upward, halving the mini right in front of her naked pussy. “I have to
confess, I’m running out of ideas for tormenting you, and that’s unlike me,” he
said. “It’s not pity, mind you, but for now, here, take the safety pin and pin that
front together. What’s your next period, by the way?”
“Lunch,” Tiffany said without thinking.
“That should be interesting,” White replied. “I’ll come in to the lunch room
and check up on you. I wouldn’t want you to skip and, say, hide in a bathroom
or anything. Off you go now.” And Tiffany, beaten, left the office. Even when
the outfit had been intact it had been provocative beyond belief. Now, with the
slits exposing her all over, she was a walking exhibitionist. She tried to shuffle
to keep her skirt from gapping and exposing her bare ass and pussy, but it did
little good. She headed for the lunch room, which was filled with students.

Chapter 11 – The One With The Quicker Picker-upper

“Vanity of vanities, all is vanities,” says the Bible, and if ever there had
been a girl full of vanity, it had been Tiffany Daniels. But never had there been
a girl in the history of Godfrey Daniels High School brought so low from such
a height. Only a few days ago, she had been queen of the school, a cheerleader,
dead ringer for Anna Kournikova, rich bitch driving her Miata and going to the
tanning salon, hanging at the country club. Her daddy was rich and her mama
was good-lookin’, and Tiffany Daniels was both.
Technically, all that was still true, but the games that Principal White and
the others were playing with young Tiffany had changed her image drastically.
Now she was walking toward the cafeteria in her black high heels, the ones so
high they made her walk like a cheap whore trolling for tricks, her pelvis
rolling as if it was mounted on greased ball bearings. The halter they had made
her wear, advertising JUST DO ME, was ripped down the middle and barely
held together by a single safety pin; her gorgeous teenaged tits threatened to
spill out with every step she took. Her black Spandex micro-mini just barely
covered her bare pussy and ass cheeks, and had been sliced all the way up on
both sides, as well as front and back.
The effect was almost worse than being actually naked, as it was so
grotesque to the normally prim girl. Her mind was a swirling vortex of shame,
humiliation and anxiety as she approached the cafeteria. It was the very room
where she had been fucked up the ass just the night before, and had licked the
janitor’s asshole, and had come over and over, but she wasn’t going to think
about that now. She really wasn’t, she thought.
She stopped outside, and took a deep breath. There was only way she
would survive this, she told herself. She must remember who she was. She was
a Daniels – her grandfather had founded this school, her father was a wealthy
businessman about to be elected to the City Council. Every boy wanted to fuck
her, and every girl wanted to be her. But none could.
She would brazen it out, she decided. Her teachers might have the upper
hand over her, but these were mere students, none of them good enough to
wipe her ass, she told herself. She squared her shoulders, stood up straight, and
forced her face into its usual gaze of haughty condescension. And walked into
the cafeteria.
The usual clamor assaulted her, of 400 students talking at once. But as her
heels clicked across the linoleum, she noticed the room getting quieter.
Conversations continued, but in a low buzz, and she could tell, by all the faces
looking at her, that the buzz was about her, and the way she was dressed.
An outrageous wolf whistle sounded from somewhere, breaking the
tension, and everyone laughed nervously. Tiffany tried to ignore and gathered
her usual lunch, a veggie wrap, yogurt and a bottled water on a tray, paid for it,
and looked for a place to sit. She saw a table of her fellow cheerleaders – Marla,
Brittany, Suzy – with an empty seat, and even though the table was in the
middle of the room, she wanted so badly to be among friends who wouldn’t
mock that she walked over and sat down.
“Jesus, Tiffers,” exclaimed Brittany, “What is, like, the deal? Halloween is
so over.”
“Hello to you too, Britt,” she replied. “I don’t have a problem if you don’t.”
She was still trying to bluff her way through.
“Yeah, but come on!” said Marla, a perky redhead. “What is with you?
Everybody is talking about the way you’ve been dressing the last two days, like
some kind of, like, whore or something. I mean, that dress is all ripped, but
even if it wasn’t, you can practically see your butt!” Tiffany was painfully
aware that the conversations at several nearby tables had ceased as the kids
tried to eavesdrop on the cheerleaders’ conversation. She had to just plow
ahead.
“Why is everybody ragging me about the way I’m dressed?” she
demanded, trying to take the offensive. “I can dress however I want to! I don’t
follow fashion trends, I start them!”
“But Tiffers,” Brittany squeaked, still not buying it. But before she could
finish, a blast of music roared forth from across the room. At first it was hard to
tell what it was or where it was coming from, but as Tiffany looked around
frantically she could see it was a table of several football players, not the cute
ones that she sometimes dated, but the big ugly grunts who played lineman and
rarely got the good-looking girls.
“I met a babe in a backseat drive-in/
Back in the saddle she’d sit/
Pulled on the reins just to keep me risin’/
She loved to chomp at the bit.”
Tiffany didn’t know the lascivious song, but the boys all did: “Cheese Cake” by
Aerosmith, a dirty little ditty by a dirty little band. The song was apparently
being played on a portable CD boom box, which was strictly forbidden on
school grounds. Tiffany looked around for the cafeteria monitor who would
make them turn it off, and spotted him: Mr. Green, her damned English teacher
and one of the men who was abusing her. He was standing against a wall,
smiling, arms folded, tapping his foot in time to the music. Although the boys
were violating the rules, he made no move to stop them.
“Daddy do it, ooh, just do it/
Daddy do it, please let me see/
Do it, please just do it daddy/
Do it, do it, drivin’ me crazy.”
As Steven Tyler sang, one of the beefy boys climbed up on his lunch table. At
least, thought the embarrassed cheerleader, the students were now all looking at
him instead of at her. But then he pulled his T-shirt up to the middle of his
ribcage, imitating her halter top. He reached under the shirt with both hands
and with a mighty heave he ripped it in half down the middle, just as Tiffany’s
halter was ripped. He looked right at her and grinned and stuck out his tongue
and wiggled it obscenely, and the place went completely nuts, as if Aerosmith
themselves had just appeared in their midst to perform for free. They were
cheering her degradation, Tiffany knew, and there was nothing she could do
about it.
“She always walks with her eyes down on her bootlace/
She lives to give it away/
She don’t believe in the right time or the wrong place/
She’s always liable to say/
Cheese cake, looser than her sister/
Cheese cake, mmm, her sugar gets me high/
She knows I can’t resist her (cheese cake)/
Got my fingers in her pie (cheese cake).”
The brutish lineman did a bump and grind, waggling his pelvis, and everybody
roared with laughter as Tyler’s voice boomed out. Green continued to do
nothing about the scene. The moment the song stopped, Tiffany heard a loud
splash, and realized it was right beside her. She whirled away from watching
the football player, and saw, out of the corner of her eye, Old Joe the janitor
hovering near her.
Brittany was standing up and shrieking, “Ohmigod, ohmigod, you knocked
over my Coke, you clumsy oaf!” Brittany’s enormous cup of Coke was laying
on the floor, ice and cola flowing everywhere. Some of it had splashed onto
Brittany’s and Tiffany’s ankles, as well as Joe’s.
“Oh ma’am, I am so sorry, I really am,” Old Joe said, taking on the
subservient tone he was well-known for, one that bordered on a Stepin Fetchit
parody. But Tiffany knew the man better, knew what he was capable of.
Briefly, she flashed on last night, when he had been the last to fuck her up the
ass, the one with the biggest cock, and the one who gave her an orgasm that
still made her tremble, even as a memory. Old Joe’s voice was obsequious, but
his eyes glittered with hardness, Tiffany noticed for the first time.
“You idiot!” Brittany was still shrieking.
“I apologize, miss, I surely do,” Joe said. “I wish I could clean it up, but
my back went out this morning, and I can’t bend down for nothing. Would one
of you girls do me a big favor and clean this up for me?” The cheerleaders all
looked at him as if he were insane. Old Joe the janitor was asking them, the
cheerleaders, to get down on their hands and knees in the middle of the
cafeteria and clean up a spilled Coke? As if!!
“It’s a little thing to ask,” Joe said. “How ’bout you, Miss Daniels? Would
you do this for me?” he asked. “‘Scuse me a minute, girls, while I talk privately
to Miss Daniels here.” He leaned over so that his mouth was close to Tiffany’s
ear, and only she could hear. He whispered, harshly, “Cunt, if you’re not down
on your hands and knees in 10 seconds getting this floor spotless, tonight we’re
gonna take turns on you, and we’re gonna fuck you with my mop handle. How
far up do you think we can make it go if we push reeeeeeal hard?” he hissed.
Tiffany flushed with anger. Goddamn it, they had trapped her again. She had
no choice.. She got up out of her chair as her friends all started babbling.
“Jeez, Tiff, what are you doing? You don’t have to clean up that mess. He
knocked it over, it’s his fault, let him do it.” Joe pulled a large rag, almost as big
as a towel, out of his pocket and handed it to Tiffany. She bent down, and
realized the only way to clean the floor was to be on her hands and knees. She
knelt with the rag, which was dry but very dirty, and began to mop up the
spilled soda.
Within seconds, she realized the sight she presented. Bending over on her
hands and knees caused the skimpy halter to hang away from her chest, and the
better parts of her tits were in full view. If someone were standing above and in
front of her, they could see right down her front almost to her nipples. The rear
view was even worse, she knew. Because her skirt had been split right up the
ass crack, then pinned back together, and because the skirt was so tight, the
bending of her ass caused the skirt to pull apart, exposing the crack of her ass
completely. With no underwear, she was showing off her booty to the entire
lunch room.
Still, Joe’s threat was real. She had no doubt the men would fuck her with
the mop handle if she refused to cooperate. Or worse. They had told her they
expected full obedience of everything they told her to do, or she would end up
being video fodder for the perverted Dr. Wu. All she could do was mop up the
Coke, and do it quickly.
But even though she was working fast, rubbing at the Coke for all she was
worth, there was so much of it all over the floor. And many of the boys,
realizing the position she was in, had decided that subtlety was for wimps, and
they wanted a good look. A couple dozen boys had stood up behind Tiffany,
and several more had walked over, so that there was a good-sized mob of
teenaged boys all gathered behind her, staring at the fine crack of her young
ass, and at the rounded globes as they pressed on the tight Spandex of the skirt.
Another crowd of youngsters had gathered in front of Tiffany, ogling her tits.
The two groups gawked, and laughed and pointed. Elbows nudged ribs, guys
jockeyed for a better view, and teen dicks started stiffening inside jeans.
“Ohmigod, Tiff, what do you think you’re doing?” Marla called to her.
“You are putting on such a show. You don’t have to do this. Get up, girl! Show
some self-respect.” But Tiffany’s self-respect, once an armor she had worn with
pride, was now in tatters. And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse,
the Aerosmith song started again. They had only pushed pause on the CD
player, and there was more to sing about still:
“Cheese cake! Sneakin’ out the back door/
Cheese cake! Rollin’ down the lawn/
Everybody’s kissed her (cheese cake!)
At the crack of dawn!”
Tiffany scrubbed at the soda, slowly soaking it up into the dirty rag. The
crowds of boys grew and grew, and they hooted at the richest, prettiest girl in
school down on her hands and knees with her ass and tits showing. A rubber
band was shot out of the crowd and smacked her right on her naked butt crack
and she flinched, but refused to look around at whoever had shot it. She was
focused intently on getting through the outrage and getting this day over with.
Mr. Green walked over, finally. “Is everything OK here?” he asked
blithely.
“This nice girl is helping me with a spill,” Old Joe explained, winking at
his co-conspirator. “I just don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“Why Tiffany Daniels, I’m pleasantly surprised,” Mr. Green said in a voice
louder than it needed to be. “You used to have a reputation for being stuck up,
but here you are down on your hands and knees mopping up Coke, helping our
janitor. Good for you!” The students all guffawed at this. Tiffany grit her teeth
and didn’t say anything, but her face was crimson with embarrassment and her
skin burned with shame.
“I hope I’m not out of line here, but this kind of sacrifice deserves to be
honored,” Mr. Green said with fake sincerity. “Why don’t we all give Tiffany a
hand?” He began to clap, and the students joined in. The applause rose, louder
and louder, echoing off the lunchroom walls. It was supposedly for her doing a
good deed, but Tiffany knew they were all really applauding the spectacle of
her near-nudity, her position of submission at the feet of the janitor, the sudden
and drastic change in her image from prim and proper to dressed-to-thrill.
Tiffany had always craved the spotlight, but only when she was in control.
Now she no longer was. It seemed to her as if everyone else in the school was
above her, putting her down. She had never felt so low. Of course, she hadn’t
gotten to Homecoming yet.

Chapter 12 – The One With The Special Half-Time Show

The next morning was beautiful as Tiffany drove her younger sister
Stephanie to school through the suburban streets of Beverly, Texas. It was
Friday, and tonight was the big homecoming game, something that Tiffany had
been looking forward to for the entire school year. Until this last week, though,
when the four sadistic older men had embarked on their campaign to blackmail,
abuse, degrade and humiliate the lovely 16-year-old. Now she dreaded the
game, wondering what sort of torment they would dream up to shame her even
further. She was lost in her own dark musings when Stephanie spoke up.
“I hate to bring this up again, Tiff, but you know yesterday, in the
cafeteria? People said you were even worse than the day before! I told em that
when we went to school you were just wearing jeans and a T-shirt like you
always do, but I heard from bunches of people that at lunchtime you were
dressed in this really whorey looking black skirt that was all cut up and held
together with safety pins, and you were down on your hands and knees on the
floor and guys were staring at you and laughing.”
Tiffany wanted so badly to tell her innocent young sister the truth, the
awful truth about what bastards men could be, and the unspeakable
predicament she was in. But she knew that telling Stephanie would somehow
put the girl in danger also. She had to lie.
“Yeah, that was a little but out there, I have to admit,” Tiffany said. “I’m
kind of embarrassed about it now. I guess it seemed like a good idea at the
time.” She stopped, hoping that would end Stephanie’s questions.
An embarrassed silence fell over the girls. Tiffany felt that her sister
wanted to talk further, but that it would be rude to question an older sibling,
and one who was so beautiful and popular. Added to that was the conflict
raging within Tiffany. It’s the dirty little secret of nearly every cheerleader that
there is a bit of the exhibitionist lurking somewhere within. Most cheerleaders,
and certainly Tiffany, don’t get off on the thought of all those hormone-driven
teenaged boys fantasizing about fucking them, and all the middle-aged pervs in
the crowd staring at their panty-covered crotches and thinking evil thoughts.
But to be a cheerleader, to prance about in front of crowds in a tight sweater
and a short, flippy skirt, exposing your bare legs and your underpants, there has
to be a small part that enjoys it. And that was certainly the case with Tiffany.
Normally she felt as if she were operating from a position of power Ñ this was
her nubile young body, and nobody could touch her unless she said it was OK.
But the events of the past week had reversed that, and Tiffany was
confused. In some ways, her tormentors had just taken her love of being looked
at and amplified it far beyond her wildest dreams. Her name was on everyone’s
lips at Daniels High School, the image of her slutty outfits and bizarre behavior
the talk of every classroom and bus stop. The part of her that craved the
spotlight secretly loved all that, even as she was mortified by the stunts she had
been forced to pull in recent days.
And then there were the orgasms. Although she had masturbated a few
times and petted a little with boys her age, she had never cum the way she had
the other night when the men were fucking her ass in the cafeteria, or the way
she had in her bedroom crushing the ants with the big dildo. What was
happening to her? Was she secretly a slut who had just been liberated, or was
she still just a normal teenaged girl?
As she pondered all that, she pulled the Miata into the parking lot, kissed
Stephanie on the cheek goodbye, and trudged to her first stop of the day:
Principal White’s office. Today wasn’t just any day, though. It was
Homecoming, the Big Game. Cheerleaders always wore their uniforms on
game day out of school tradition, and even with all Tiffany had been though,
she had worn hers. The tight white sweater with the big gold letter D clung to
her shapely chest, and the pleated gold skirt swirled around her lovely tanned
legs as she walked into Principal White’s office.
“Shut the door, Princess,” he ordered. She complied. “Well, well.
Homecoming,” he began. “Big night for you and your little friends, eh? I
suppose you’re wondering what’s in store?”
“Yes sir.”
“Well, me and the boys decided to let you have a day off. Not completely,
but almost. We want you to save your strength and focus for the game, to be
able to help our players on to victory. And I’m sure you’ll be able to help them.”
Tiffany had no idea what he was getting at, but had heard the “day off” part and
focused on that, hopefully.
“Whatever you say, sir,” she said. It was best to wait and see where it was
going.
“Take off your panties, Tiffany,” he said. The youngster reached under her
short skirt with both hands and pulled them down to her ankles, where she
stepped out of them. She bent and picked them up from the floor. White took
the white underpants from her hand and laid them out on his desk. He pulled
out a big black laundry marker and wrote across the crotch of the panties in
large letters “FUCK ME.” Then he flipped them over, and across the ass he
wrote “SPANK ME.” He handed them back and told her to put them on.
Tiffany’s heart sank. Was this his idea of a day off? Wearing panties all day
under a short skirt, worried that at any moment a breeze could expose them, or
a careless drink of water at the fountain.
“Aww, come on, Princess,” he joshed. “It’s not so bad. It’s not like I’m
gonna fuck you up the ass or anything. Then again, you kinda liked that, didn’t
you? Maybe you’re disappointed cause you wanted to be fucked up the
bunghole again. Maybe it was the Joe Black dick that got you over the top.
Hmm?”
“No sir,” she said, staring at the carpet and blushing, because he was close
to the truth. “May I go now?”
“Sure, Tiffany. See you at the game tonight.” Compared to what she had
endured over the last two days, Homecoming Day wasn’t that bad. She was
back in her cheerleading uniform, and that helped Tiffany feel in control. In
class, other students would whisper and dart their eyes at her, and sometimes
giggle or guffaw, but there wasn’t any outright harassment. Even in the
lunchroom, the scene of her humiliation the previous day, she sat with her
buddies and ate in peace. Everyone seemed focused on the big game coming
up.
And before she knew it, it was game time. 7:30, and the gymnasium was
packed. Daniels High School students in one set of bleachers, and facing them,
the students of Jefferson High School, for what was sometimes referred to as
the annual Jeff-Daniels Game. Tiffany took the floor with Marla, Brittany,
Suzy and the rest of the squad and they started their routines: high kicks, spins,
back flips, cheers, as the basketball warmed up by shooting baskets and
following lay-ups.
As the girls formed a chorus line and kicked in rhythm to the band’s music,
Tiffany saw the students in the front few rows begin to point at her and nudge
one another. Damn! She had managed to forget that FUCK ME was written
across the front of her panties in big black letters. Every time she kicked, she
was showing it off to the boys. Soon the whispers began to spread through the
Daniel’s crowd, and more and more teenaged boys moved down close to be
able to see.
Tiffany scanned the crowd nervously, and saw one man who wasn’t
moving down: Mr. Green, who sat about half-way up with the camcorder held
to his eye. He was aiming it right at her. It was very common to see high school
parents in the bleachers with camcorders, videotaping their sons on the
basketball floor, but Tiffany knew that Mr. Green wasn’t taping the game. He
probably had the zoom lens cranked up all the way, she thought, and was
zeroing in on her pussy and the bold advertisement that was printed there. Just
more for their little collection, she thought bitterly.
The first half of the game went quickly, with Tiffany and the other
cheerleaders taking the floor occasionally during time-outs. After one flip, the
hem of Tiffany’s short cheerleading skirt rode up and accidentally clung to the
top of her panties, exposing her delectable cotton-clad 16-year-old bottom and
the words SPANK ME printed there. She blushed furiously and quickly pulled
it back down, holding it there with her hands. She didn’t know how many had
noticed, but surely some of the horny boys, who were not even watching the
game any more, had seen.
The whistle blew, signaling the end of the first half. Tiffany looked toward
one end of the gymnasium and was shocked to see Principal White standing
there, his back to one concrete-block wall, talking with Stephanie, her 14-year-
old sister. White caught the cheerleader’s eye and gave her a hand signal to
come over. Tiffany obeyed, her stomach sinking. The torment and abuse of her
was bad enough, but she had to keep Stephanie away from these predators no
matter what.
“Hello, Miss Daniels,” the principal said in almost courtly way, his voice
of free of sarcasm. “I was just talking to your sister here, whom I’ve barely had
a chance to get to know.” His words seemed so innocent on the surface, but
Tiffany knew there was great potential for evil lurking somewhere within them.
“I need a favor, Miss Daniels. You know Old Joe, the janitor? His back is
still bothering him and he asked if you’d help him out for a few minutes. While
you do, I’ll just visit with Stephanie here for a few more minutes. I’m sure you’ll
be back for the second half.” His eyes were clear and pure, devoid of malice,
but Tiffany got the message: Obey me, or Stephanie becomes part of the game
as well. She left the gym and found Old Joe standing right outside the doors. To
Tiffany’s surprise, he was dressed in a snazzy suit rather than his janitor’s
uniform. He motioned her to step back into a stairwell.
“So you saw that Mr. White is talking to Stephanie, Princess? I’m only
going to explain this one time, so you better listen closely. If you don’t follow
every instruction perfectly, we’re going to take a trip to Dr. Wu tonight to make
one of those special videos. Not just you, but you and Stephanie as well. Dr.
Wu tells us he’s getting impatient, and so are his friends, for a little tender teen
flesh to abuse. Do you remember the little talk the other night about how Dr.
Wu treats teen meat like you and your sister? Of course you do. So you’re
going to obey, right.” Tiffany swallowed hard, and nodded. She had to keep her
sister safe. She would do anything to keep Stephanie out of trouble.
“It seems that both the coach and the assistant coach from Jefferson had
their cars stolen from our parking lot during the first half,” Black continued.
“They’ve just been told, and they’re out in the parking lot now talking to the
police. They’ll probably be gone about 15 minutes. That means the Jefferson
boys team is in their locker room, with no adult supervision. You and I are
going to go in there now. I’m just going to stand over in a corner, keeping an
eye on things. It’s going to be your show, Princess, your special half-time show.
You’ll do all the talking. If I don’t feel as if your performance is exactly what
me and the fellas have in mind, I have a cell phone, and Mr. White has a
beeper. I’ll just dial the beeper, and Mr. White will leave right then with
Stephanie and take her to Dr. Wu’s. You will join her there later. If she has an
hour’s head start on you, though, she’s likely to be in pretty bad shape by the
time you show up. You with me so far? Tiffany nodded. “I have no choice,” she
told herself over and over. “I’m their slave. I have no will. I have to do what
they tell me to.”
Joe told her what he wanted her to do, and together they entered the
visiting team’s locker room. The noise hit the lovely teenager like a tidal wave –
the sound of 14 teenaged boys pumped up on testosterone and adrenaline, left
without adult supervision. Some were yelling, some were snapping towels,
others were laughing. They all fell silent as soon as they noticed Tiffany and
Joe Black. As he had promised, Joe faded into a corner, leaving poor Tiffany
standing alone in the middle of the locker room. She had never felt so
vulnerable and alone. She took a deep breath, told herself she had no choice,
she would do this to save her sister. She forced a seductive smile onto her face.
“Hi boys. Would anyone like a blow job?” The room instantly erupted
again with hoots, laughs, rebel yells, screams of “Fuck yeah!” Several of the
boys advanced toward the cheerleader. She raised a hand. She had to keep
some control or she would be gang-raped. What she was about to do would be
bad enough.
“Hold on, boys,” she called out. “Settle down. My name if Tiffany, and as
you can see, I’m one of the cheerleaders at Daniels. I heard your coaches
weren’t here, so I came over to offer a little oral relief to y’all. But if y’all are
gonna get out of hand, I’m just gonna have to leave.” She was following the
script that Old Joe had outlined to her.
“Now everybody knows there’s a pecking order, so we’re gonna have
ourselves a pecker order. I’ll blow as many of you as I can, beginning with the
starting lineup. I hope I’ll have time to get to the substitutes as well, but I can
give them hand jobs while I blow the starters. So I can take on three guys at
one time – one in my mouth and one in each hand. Everyone will have to cum
as quickly as he can so the guys who are waiting can have a shot.”
“What the fuck is this about?” shouted one Jefferson player.
“Just a little Daniels hospitality,” Tiffany answered. “Plus I really like the
taste of cum, and love to have a big ol’ cock spurting into my hot little mouth.”
“Who’s the black guy?” another yelled.
“Don’t mind me,” said Joe. “I’m just the little lady’s escort. Now you guys
gonna stand around and ask questions, or is somebody gonna get this girl a
towel to kneel down on so she can start sucking some cock?” All the boys
started moving and yelling again, many of them “Me first!” and “Dibs!”
Instantly a towel appeared and was laid down on the cold concrete floor, and
Tiffany kneeled down. No sooner had she assumed the position than she was
presented with the crotch of the team’s starting center, a huge black teenager
whose dick was already halfway hard. She opened her sweet young mouth and
closed her lips around the thick purple head and began to suck.
Mere seconds had gone by when she felt both her hands being raised up.
She was vaguely aware that two other teens were now standing on either side
of her, then shorts and jock straps down around their ankles just like the center
she was blowing. Each of her hands had a hard-on stuffed into it, and she
dutifully wrapped her fingers around each shaft and began a pumping motion
back and forth.
“Oh, fuck, this is unbelievable,” yelled a boy who was getting a hand-job.
“Jack me off, you little whore-dog!”
“What a slut! What a whore!” the mob of boys yelled. The center took his
large meaty hands and put them on either side of Tiffany’s beautiful face and
began to face-fuck the girl, pushing his large cock in and out of her mouth,
which made a series of rhythmic slurping sounds. She could smell his heavy
sweaty smell, could feel his large balls, loose in his scrotum, banging against
her chin repeatedly as he fucked her mouth.
“Jesus Fucking Christ I’m gonna cum in this slut’s mouth!” the boy
suddenly bellowed, and as Tiffany felt his cock head swell up in her mouth, he
erupted. Gush after gush of hit salty semen poured into her young mouth, and
she swallowed frantically to get it all down.
“Me next!” hollered a guard, and pushed the center out of the way before
his dick had even begun to soften. Tiffany felt the first cock pop out of her
mouth, only to be replaced by a second erection, this one pink and thick, but
also tasting of sweat. She started to suck again, when suddenly her left cheek
was hit with a huge gob of ejaculate.
“Uhhh! Uhhh! Uhhh!” grunted the boy on her left as she pumped his cock
into her fist. He was spewing his sperm all over the side of her face. She was
disgusted, but knew she didn’t have time to stop and wipe it off. She had been
ordered to get all 14 boys off in 15 minutes, and knew she would have to work
like mad to accomplish her task. Fortunately, she knew, they were teenaged
boys, and could cum quickly. The sticky sperm dripped down her cheek and
rounder her jaw line, just as the boy on her right exploded in orgasm. His cum
hit her in the right eye, temporarily blinding her, and continued shooting out of
his dick, coating her face.
“Man, you’re cummin’ all over the cheerleader cunt’s face!” yelled a player.
“This is sooo fuckin’ cool!” The room erupted in cheers. As the cheers echoed
off the tile walls, the second player erupted into Tiffany’s mouth. He seemed to
have even more sperm than the first guy, and she gagged slightly as wave after
wave filled her mouth. Half-blinded by the sperm in one eye, she groped out
with her fingers and found two more naked erections, throbbing with
adolescent lust. She began to pump both of them, her fingers slick with the
semen of the first two boys.
The time passed quickly. Tiffany did not even have the time to consider
the image she presented, one of unspeakable depravity and nastiness. A
beautiful 16-year-old girl, on her knees in a boy’s locker room, dressed in the
opposing team’s cheerleading uniform, surrounded by panting, cheering,
swearing, rutting boys, all with the shorts and jock straps pulled down to their
knees or their ankles, their erections bobbing angrily in the humid locker room
air.
Another blast of boy-cum hit Tiffany’s other eye, and as the boy spewed
his seed, some went into her thick wavy blonde hair as well. It barely
registered, because yet another player was cumming in her mouth, jamming his
cock forward so hard that it banged against the back of her throat. Tiffany’s gag
reflex kicked in, but the muscle action of her gag reflex just milked the boy’s
cock all the harder.
They came on her hair. They came in her face. Their sperm sealed her eyes
shut and coated her cheeks. Thick globs of semen dripped down her chin and
fell on the large gold D on her chest. Her tongue felt thick from the semen that
had flooded over it again and again, and her jaw ached terribly from having her
mouth open and stuffed with cock so much.
Tiffany Daniels had become a mindless blow job and hand job machine.
To the Jefferson basket ball team, she might as well have been some inflatable
love doll, or a piece of meat. They used her, they called her names, they
laughed joyfully as they watched the mask of sperm get thicker and thicker on
her face. It was the most un-fucking-believable thing that had ever happened to
them – to have a cheerleader from the opposing team walk into their locker
room at half-time and give everybody blow jobs and hand jobs!
Cock after cock after cock assaulted the willing, kneeling victim. She had
stopped thinking about what she was doing, what was happening to her, the
shame and humiliation she had felt at first. If the boys viewed her as a machine,
that’s how she viewed herself as well – a robot with no purpose except to extract
the seed of 14 young men in a specific time. She was surprised when she heard
Old Joe’s voice in her ear.
“That’s it, babe,” he told her. “Let’s get out of here.” Tiffany realized that
the last boy’s cock had cum in her mouth, that she was done. She had taken
seven loads of sperm in her mouth, all of them massive, because unbeknownst
to her, the Jefferson coach had forbid his players to have sex or even to
masturbate for five days before the game. The boys had obeyed him, so that
each had built up a huge load. Tiffany’s stomach gurgled with nausea. She
wondered weakly how much sperm was sloshing around in her stomach. In
addition to the cum in her stomach, her face was a mask of white; eight boys
had come on her face while she was jacking them off.
“Hey, you want to come back after the game?” called one boy. “We could
all shower together!” The room exploded with whoops and high-fives. Tiffany
was now moving out of her trance-like, robotic state, returning to the real
Tiffany Daniels, and she flushed at the boy’s comment. The humiliation of what
she had done washed over her.
“Let’s get you to a restroom, Princess,” Old Joe told her. “You done good,
but the second half’s about to start, and you can’t go back out there like that.”
Tiffany nodded, numb from what she had endured over the past quarter-hour.
Joe led her from the room of goggle-eyed boys, some of whom were not
pulling up their shorts and getting ready to go back out on court for the second
half.
That half passed in a blur for young Tiffany. She knew she was out on the
court between Brittany and Marla, going through the motions. At one point
Marla had even leaned over and asked “What’s that in your ear, Tiffers?”
Tiffany had stuck a finger in her ear and pulled out a small gobbet of sperm
that she had missed while washing off the mask of cum.
She was vaguely aware that the Jefferson team, which had been up by 10
points at the half, played the second half as if they had 10-pound weights
strapped to their ankles. They couldn’t shoot, couldn’t rebound, could barely
even focus. They grinned at one another as they jogged lazily up the court
while their coach screamed at them from the sidelines, wondering what had
happened to his team. Occasionally one would glance over at Tiffany and give
her a thumbs-up and a big grin.
Tiffany never noticed. Her mouth still tasted like sperm, her tongue ached,
her jaw ached, her hands ached. She knew what she had done, what she had
been forced to do, and her whole being ached with the shame of it. But at least
she had kept Stephanie safe, she thought. That was her consolation.

Chapter 13 – The One Where The Torch is Passed

Over the weekend following the Homecoming game Friday night, Tiffany
tried to recover. The harder she sought to put the events of half-time in the
visiting team’s locker room out of her mind, though, the more they stuck with
her. She had been horribly assaulted, used as if she were a common whore or a
plastic sex doll, sodomized against her will by 14 boys!
And yet, she knew, it did not appear that way to the boys of Jefferson
High’s varsity basketball team. To them, they had been minding their own
business when the most gorgeous beauty they had ever seen, a cheerleader for
the home team no less, had flounced into their locker room and announced free
blow jobs and hand jobs for everybody! She had done it willingly, in their eyes,
and this injustice burned at young Tiffany as surely as their hot semen had
burned being pumped down her throat by the cup load.
As bad as the indignity and public humiliation was, however, Tiffany
gnawed on an even worse fear: What if one of the guys from Jefferson told one
of the guys from Daniels about what had happened? Word of such an incident
would spread like wildfire through the school, and her debasement would be
complete. She just had to pray that over the weekend no one from the Jefferson
basketball team had bumped into a member of the
Daniels High team.
Her prayers were not answered, she found, on Monday morning, when she
had only been in the hall a few minutes before the first bell when Jay, a reserve
guard, walked up to her boldly and said in a loud voice, “Well, well, if it isn’t
our own little Blow job Betty!” Several students paused in the conversations to
listen.
“I heard you were quite the Little Miss Mouth at halftime on Friday night,
Tiffany! Is that what all the slutty outfits have been for lately? Have you been
getting into training for your big blow job run on Jefferson? And hey! How
come you didn’t come to our locker room and give us all blow jobs? Aren’t
Daniels High School cocks big enough for you?” Tiffany’s face was hot and
scarlet, and her heart was pounding.
“Please, Jay, please, could you at least whisper?” she begged. It seemed as
if the whole high school could hear, and she knew she couldn’t deny it or it
would only get worse. Jay leaned over to the cheerleader’s ear.
“I’ll be happy to whisper, Tiffany, if you’ll meet me after school and put a
lip-lock on my love muscle!”
“No, please, don’t do this,” Tiffany pleaded. “Leave me alone.” She forced
herself to walk away and duck into her classroom. Fortunately, when she had
reported to Principal White’s office that morning, as she had been ordered to do
every morning, he hadn’t been there, so Tiffany had gotten away without
having to change into some slutty outfit. She was dressed like her friends, in
khakis and an Abercrombie and Fitch T-shirt, to all outward appearances a
normal teenaged girl, not some remote-controlled whore being blackmailed and
threatened by a gang of authority figures.
An old John Mellencamp song popped into Tiffany’s head: “I fight
authority, authority always wins…” As the day wore on, it seemed that more
and more of Daniels High was learning about what Tiffany had done last
Friday night. When she walked into the lunchroom, three whole tables of boys,
about 20 in all, had gotten pints of milk and smeared the milk all over their lips
and upper lips, looking like perverse versions of the “Got Milk?” ads.
“Hey Tiffany!” they roared in unison when she entered. “Got cum?!!!” The
cafeteria exploded with laughter. The entire school must know, Tiffany
thought. In English, when she got up to read a poem, several boys made fake
coughing sounds into their cupped hands. But instead of coughing, they were
saying “Blow job! Blow job!” When she walked in the hall between classes,
boys whistled at her, or made loud lip-smacking sounds, or grabbed their dick
through the front of their pants and squeezed, in a contemptuous come-on.
Somehow, she managed to get through Monday. Tuesday was as bad,
although once again Principal White was not in his office, so she could stay in
her regular clothes. Wednesday, the taunting and teasing started to die down a
little. Teenagers have such short attention spans. Thursday was as close to
normal a school day as Tiffany had had in two weeks. But on Friday, when she
reported to Principal White’s office, there he was, sitting smugly behind his
desk, his eyes glittering with lust.
“Come on, Princess, and lock the door behind you,” he said pleasantly.
Roger White was counting a large stack of money. “Know what this is,
Princess?” he asked. “This is money I won off the Jeff-Daniels game Friday
night. Five grand. I won it betting with a bookie on Daniels High School. And
you know what made it possible? You did, Tiffany. Our boys were getting
beaten in the first half, but you really took the energy out of that Jefferson High
team the second half. So thanks to you, I won $5,000. Kinda like I killed two
birds with one stone, huh?”
“I’m not a greedy man, so I thought it only fair that I share it with you. I
figure $5 a blow job times 14 is $70. So here are your earnings.” He pealed off
three 20s and a 10 and handed them to the girl. Tiffany continued to be amazed
at the small things that could humiliate her. She was rich; her daddy probably
made 100 times as much a year as a high school principal. Yet here she was
being paid $5 a blow job, like the cheapest prostitute on record. The blow jobs
had been bad enough, but getting paid for it, and so meagerly, made it even
worse.
“So you’ve gotten kind of a break for four days, haven’t you, Princess?”
White continued. “No nifty new clothes to wear around school, no ants in the
pants, no rim jobs, no gang-bangs. Do you miss it?”
“No, sir,” Tiffany said, and she was telling the truth, but it was also more
complicated than that for the confused teenaged girl.
“Well, me and the guys decided to give you a little taste of what it would
be like to go back to the old Tiffany Daniels for a few days. Now I hear a lot of
what goes on around here, and I know some of the boys were having a little fun
at your expense for a couple of days, but that’s already pretty much died down
now, hasn’t it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And the way things are going, I imagine in a week or so nobody will
hardly remember all this nonsense if we keep going on this track, right?” The
youngster nodded in agreement.
“On the other hand, if you start dressing like a slut again, and doing really
nasty outrageous things in public, like showing off your tits to a bunch of
strangers in a store in a mall, then it’s all gonna start raining down on you
again, Princess. Maybe this time we would pick a place a little closer to home
for you to show off those tits. Maybe next week’s basketball game, we could
have you go braless under your sweater, and rig the sweater somehow so that it
comes off when you’re in the middle of the floor in front of a couple thousand
people.” He smiled at the thought. Tiffany remained silent, knowing he was
just tormenting her, not expecting a response.
“So the choice is yours, Princess. You do one last thing for us, and we let
you go. You’re free forever from us. If you refuse to do this one last thing,
though, the last two weeks is gonna look like rookie camp before the big
leagues. We’re talking public exposure on a scale you haven’t even dreamed of.
We’re talking trashing your reputation so thoroughly you won’t be able to find a
decent boy to piss on you. We’re talking all-night sessions with Dr. Wu and his
vid equipment, being tortured in ways that would make the Marquis de Sade
puke. So what’s it gonna be, little Tiffany?”
“What do you want me to do, sir?”
“Give up your sister,” White said, as if was the simplest thing in the world.
“Ss-ss-Stephanie?” stammered Tiffany, shocked.
“You got any other sisters you want to give up?” White said sarcastically.
“Please, sir, anything but that,” Tiffany said. “She’s only 14.”
“That’s why we want her, Tiffany. We’ve had a good time with you, but
we’re always on the lookout for fresh meat. We want Stephanie, and we want
you to help us get her. We could wait forever for her to screw up the way you
did. So we’ll give you a bag of cocaine to put in her backpack. A significant
amount, enough to count for distributing. I search the backpack, and voila!
Stephanie is ours, just like you are.” Tiffany stiffened.
“I won’t do it,” she said simply.
“The word ‘won’t’ is not a part of your vocabulary, Princess. You will do it.
Period.”
“I won’t,” Tiffany repeated.
“Very well, then,” White sighed. “Strip off your clothes.” Tiffany knew she
would have to be tough to save Stephanie. But she would do anything. She
stripped naked in front of the principal.
“Hop up on my desk and spread your legs. Feet flat on the desk, you
worthless cunt.” As soon as she did so, White reached into a drawer and pulled
out a small metal cylinder about the size and shape of a lipstick tube. He
roughly placed his fingers on her tender young labia and spread them apart,
then pushed the tube up inside her. Without lubrication, the dry metal hurt
going into her virgin pussy.
“Don’t move, you little piece of shit,” White said. The next object he pulled
out was a real lipstick tube. He pushed up the bright red lipstick and began to
apply it carefully to one nipple, then the other one. When he finished, each was
a bright crimson.
“Get down and get dressed,” White ordered, throwing two pieces of
clothing at her. The first was a tiny pair of denim shorts – Daisy Dukes, the kids
called them. But these shorts were so tiny Tiffany couldn’t believe it as she
pulled them on. They came up over her ass and kept going, so that the bottom
third of each delectable rounded ass cheek hung out the bottom of each side.
The crotch fit snugly up into her own pussy – naturally, White had not given
her any panties to put on. She tugged at the top of the shorts, trying to get the
waist up to snap them, and the more she tugged, the tighter they bit into her
pussy. Soon the rough seam of the jeans material was working its way up into
her snatch, spreading her labia apart.
Finally, painfully, the Daisy Dukes were almost ready to be snapped. She
sucked her tummy in as much as she could to pull them around her waist, and
barely managed to fasten them. But now she could barely breathe. Plus,
sucking her stomach in had the effect of pushing out her already large breasts
even more.
With the Daisy Dukes in place – biting into her pussy painfully – she
quickly pulled on the white blouse that White had given her. It was a sheer
material, bordering on see-through, the type of thing a teenaged girl would
wear over a two-piece swimsuit at the beach as a cover-up. These must have
been in the pile of clothes we got at the Gap last week, Tiffany remembered.
She buttoned the blouse, but like the Dukes, it was much too small for her,
and the buttons barely met. Her tits were straining against the thin fabric,
rubbing against it. When she looked down, she saw to her horror that her
breasts were as visible as if she had been wearing nothing at all. Even worse,
the lipsticked nipples were so obvious they might as well have had blinking
neon signs attached to them.
“You can wear your own sneakers and socks,” White told her. When she
was dressed, Tiffany stood in front of her principal, dressed in the most
provocative outfit yet. Her ass hung out of the teensy denim shorts, and she was
afraid that when she sat down, if she didn’t keep her knees together tightly,
people would be able to see the actual lips of her pussy peeking out on either
side of the center seam. Her breasts would be on full display for everyone in
the school to see.
“One last thing, cum-breath, and then off you go to class.” White pulled
out a small object that looked like a television remote control, only with a small
dial and just one small green button in the center. He pushed the button…. And
Tiffany’s crotch exploded with pain! It was as if she had been kicked with a
heavy boot. She doubled over and grabbed her midsection. Her breath had been
knocked out of her so suddenly that she couldn’t even scream. The pain lasted
for a second, and then stopped.
“Oh gee,” said White at the bent-over girl, who was gasping for air. “I
think I set it a little too high. It’s a remote control for delivering electrical
shocks to that little tube in your cunt. Here, let me turn it down,” he added, and
twisted the dial a bit. He pressed the button again, and this time Tiffany could
feel a painful jolt of electricity stab her from inside her own pussy. She let out a
little yelp and her hands involuntarily shot down to her crotch.
“That’s better,” said White. “I want to toy with you, Tiffany, not destroy
you. Now that tube is gonna stay inside you all day long. And I’ll be walking
around school with this remote, which by the way has a very good range. You’ll
never know when I’m going to zap you. And while you walk around today in
your rather creative attire, which I’m sure all the boys in school will really
appreciate, and you get random shots of electricity at different levels zapped
straight into that sweet little snatch of yours, I want you to be thinking about
how long you can endure this, and whether it wouldn’t be better to just do what
we ask so we’ll leave you alone. Now off to class with you, girl.”
And Tiffany obediently went to class. When she first appeared in the hall
after leaving Principal White’s office, she nearly caused a riot. She was dressed
like some model out of Hustler Barely Legal magazine, and the boys started
flocking around her. “Man, nice fuckin’ tits, Tiffany!” they yelled. “Nice fuckin’
ass!” “Think those shorts could be a little shorter, Tiff?” From somewhere, she
knew not where, a hand reached out and grabbed the naked part of her ass
cheek which hung below the hem of the cut-offs. The boy’s hand squeezed, and
a finger tried to push up under the jeans, but they were too tight. Tiffany was
about to slap the intruder’s hand away when Zap! She felt the metal tube in her
pussy deliver a strong, painful burst of electricity. Instantly both hands shot
down to the crotch of her tiny cut-offs.
“Hey guys! She’s grabbin’ her crotch! What a whore!” yelled a boy. A
small crowd of boys had gathered around her, hooting and grabbing at her.
Tiffany’s back was forced up against a row of lockers, and she was surrounded
by horny young men, breathing hotly on her, poking her with their fingers,
laughing and mocking her. She felt a hand reach up under her blouse and try to
grab at her large breasts. She tried to reach up from her crotch to knock away
the intruding hand, but the crush of boys against her made movement
impossible. An unknown face leaned in and began licking her neck, and she
could feel other hands running up her smooth young thighs, pinching at her
crotch. She felt trapped and panicky.
Suddenly the bell rang signaling the beginning of first period. When the
boys’ attention was diverted for a second, Tiffany marshaled all her strength
and pushed through the crowd. Suddenly free, she started to run, heading down
a hall. She could hear the mob behind her shouting and calling her filthy
names.
She hit the door of the girls’ restroom at full run and burst in, heading
straight for a stall. She locked herself in, breathing hard, on the verge of tears.
Just yesterday, it had seemed possible that she might get her reputation back,
that everything would be forgotten. Now she knew that her tormentors could
and would ruin her, torture her endlessly, escalating their nastiness. But she
couldn’t betray her innocent young sister. She just couldn’t do it. Another blast
of voltage, stronger than the last one, ripped through
her pussy. She doubled over and screamed.
“God damn it! Leave me alone! Stop torturing me!” It burst from her
mouth before she could stop it. She heard the bathroom door open, heard
footsteps.
“Tiffany?” a girl’s voice called out. It was Stephanie!
“Go away, Steph, I’m OK!” she called from inside the stall.
“What’s the matter? Why did you scream?”
“I can’t talk about it. Please just go to class and leave me alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s been going on. And if
you don’t tell me, I’m gonna tell Mom and Dad!” Stephanie threatened. Tiffany
took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She swung the door open and saw
her little sister standing there, looking at her with curiosity and surprising calm.
Without warning, Tiffany started to talk.
Like a dam bursting under great pressure, the entire story poured out. How
she had cheated on a test and been caught, and then drugged and videotaped.
How the men had continued to put her into compromising positions with their
blackmail threats, then made more and videos, getting her in deeper and deeper.
She left nothing out: the ants, the trip to the mall, the blow jobs, the public
exposure and humiliation, the anal gang bang, the rim jobs, the half time show
for the Jefferson team. And now, finally, this horrible dilemma: They wanted
Stephanie. Tiffany was crying as she talked, tears running down her cheeks.
Finally she ran out of words.
“Jesus, Tiff, I had no idea,” Stephanie said. Her eyes were huge, and she
was trembling. “Come here and give me a hug.” Tiffany embraced her 14-year-
old sister tightly, and was surprised to feel the girl’s nipples were hard. She
pulled back.
“Stephanie, are you wearing a bra? I can feel your nipples!”
“Uh, no,” said Stephanie, “I usually don’t wear a bra. My boobies aren’t as
big as yours yet,” she said, using the term the girls had used when they were
little and took baths together. “And as for my nipples being hard, well, I guess
they are. I think your story kind of excited me.”
“Excited you?” Tiffany was puzzled.
“Well, yeah,” said Stephanie. “Listen, Tiffany, since it’s confession time,
maybe I ought to tell you a little something. I’m not the sweet little innocent
you think I am. I’m not a virgin.”
“You’re not? Who have you slept with?”
“Well, actually, lots of guys. I, uh, lost my virginity a couple of years ago.
And I liked it. Actually, I loved it. Fucking was just about the coolest thing in
the world. I started doing guys all over the place, all the time. After about six
months, I realized that boys my age were so pathetic that they’d probably even
pay me for it. I’d get to feel their cocks ramming away inside of me, and I’d
cum like crazy, plus I’d make some money. I charge $25 for a blow job and
$100 for a fuck. I’ve got more than $2,000 saved up so far. I just wish I’d
thought of it sooner.” Tiffany felt as if her universe was being scripted by
lunatics. Was everyone but her a depraved pervert? Her own little sister was a
high school hooker?
“I I I… don’t know what to say, Stephanie. Isn’t it demeaning?”
“Fuck no, sis. Get your head out of your ass. Fucking is about the greatest
thing in the world. And to get paid for it is even better!” The freshman was
grinning from ear to ear, and Tiffany could see the youngster’s hard little
nipples poking through her T-shirt.
“But I still can’t turn you over to these guys, Stephanie. You wouldn’t be in
control. They’re vicious bastards, they get off on power-tripping over girls,
humiliating them and making them do nasty things. It’s way different from
humping 14-year-old boys who don’t know what they’re doing.” Stephanie’s
eyes glittered.
“Actually, Tiffany, the whole thing kind of turns me on. 14-year-old boys
aren’t that great, to tell you the truth. Most of them don’t know what they’re
doing, and some of them last about 10 seconds before they cum, if they don’t
ejaculate when I just touch their dicks. But one time, this older boy, who was
about 16, he was doing me in his parents’ bed, and he started holding my arms
up above my head. I felt trapped, almost helpless, cause he was bigger and
stronger. And it was the best fuck I ever had. I came so hard I almost peed!”
“So anyway, Tiff, I started thinking that maybe I’m just a girl who likes to
be dominated, who likes to feel helpless, to have the guy be in control. And if a
16-year-old boy pinning my arms down was a turn-on, I can only imagine what
a group of older, sadistic men would be like. I’d be in heaven! My pussy’s
getting juicy just thinking about it!”
The teenaged sisters continued to talk for a few more minutes, with
Stephanie gradually convincing Tiffany of her position. They left the girls’
restroom and walked to Principal White’s office. Tiffany hesitated, but
Stephanie took her by the hand and marched right in. White sat at his desk and
looked up, startled.
“Good morning, girls,” he said,. not sure where this sudden arrival was
heading.
“Good morning, Mr. White,” Stephanie said, taking the lead. “I’ve been a
bad girl, and I need to be punished.” White felt his cock stir in his pants.
“What have you done, Stephanie?”
“Does it really matter?” she responded, in an exaggerated little-girl voice.
“I’m sure a man like you can think of a suitable punishment for a little 14-year-
old girl like me. If you don’t wash my mouth out with soap, maybe you can
wash it out with something else.” She looked right at his crotch, and licked her
lips. This wasn’t the game plan White had been counting on, but he was one to
go with the flow. Stephanie spoke up again.
“But while you’re punishing me, sir, and I’m sure it will have to be spread
out over a long time, I think you’re done with yucky old Tiffany, don’t you?
Why don’t you have her get dressed in her regular clothes and go back to class.
Then you and I can be alone and you can start my punishment.” White licked
his lips. His dick was throbbing. God almighty, an honest-to-goodness real
teenage submissive slut, right here begging him for punishment. Wait till the
rest of the gang heard about this!
“Good idea,” he said. “But Tiffany, once you get those shorts off, take out
that little device in your pussy. I think it’s Stephanie’s turn to wear it.”
Stephanie was already stripping off her clothes, and soon stood naked in the
principal’s office, her nipples hard as little erasers, her teen pussy oozing
moisture. She took the tube from her older sister and without pausing slipped it
right up inside her. With the lubrication, it slid in easily.
“Why don’t you kneel down, Stephanie. It’s time to get started,” said Roger
White, coming around to the front of his desk and unzipping his fly. His
erection waved stiffly in front of him, and Stephanie watched it closely, her
mouth watering.
Tiffany was dressed and heading toward the office door to get back to her
old life. She paused and saw her sister Stephanie, naked, kneeling on the carpet,
her mouth just beginning to slide over the head of White’s cock. Just before her
lips made contact, White pushed the button on the remote and Stephanie
stiffened as she felt a blast hit her young twat. A small orgasm shook her body.
She was getting off on the pain!
“Oh yes, master! Make me cum! I’ve been a bad little girl!” Stephanie
moaned. Then she leaned forward and pushed her mouth onto White’s cock,
taking it as far back into her young throat as she could. Tiffany shook her head,
and left the office. The last thing she heard was her sister happily humming
away on the cock in her mouth.

THE END

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