WARNING: This story contains blackmail, non-consensual sex, D&S, humiliation and all that sort of good stuff (although, not in every instalment). This story is not politically correct! If you do not enjoy reading about this sort of thing, STOP NOW (before it is too late). - This is the first part of a ten part series (I hope). Feel free to send the story where you will, but use some common sense.

Neil was the one to notice it: Stacy Richards cheating on anexamination! He nudged his friend Gary and pointed towards thefront of the class. "Check it out," he whispered. Gary saw, but couldn't believe what he was seeing. StacyRichards - the ice-queen cock tease of the senior class atGreenwood High - was staring intently at a slip of paper hiddenon her desk under the exam. Just then, Mr.Edgar, the teacher,coughed quietly and shifted position in his seat at the front ofthe class. Stacy quickly pushed the cheat-sheet back under theexam paper and looked up guiltily, her face flushing a prettyshade of red. If Mr.Edgar had glanced over at her at that momenthe would certainly have known that something was wrong with her. But whywould he be checking out Stacy Richards, who had beengetting straight A grades ever since she had begun attendingGreenwood High four years ago? Instead, he turned his attentionto Neil French and Gary Syms, who were the class trouble-makers:Neil with his long, greasy hair and semi-stylish ripped clothesand Gary with his cynical, cutting sense of geek humour. Sureenough, they were grinning and whispering together at the back ofthe classroom rather than writing the exam. "French... Syms," he called out, drawing himself laboriouslyout of his chair and up to his rather unimpressive full hight,"Front of the class." No longer smiling, the two boys got up and walked slowlyforward, the centre of attention, with everyone in the classlooking up at them from their exams. Neil noticed Stacy smirkingat him with her typical, haughty sneer. Bitch, he thought, we'll see who's laughing in a second."Mr.Edgar," he blurted as he reached the front of the room,"We saw..." He was cut off by Gary elbowing him subtly, but stiffly, inthe side. He drew in a breath to continue speaking, but he wasinterrupted by the angry teacher. "You two have been nothing but trouble since you startedthis class in September," Mr.Edgar announced, his full whitemoustache quivering with indignation. "I can no longer allow youto disrupt this class with your infantile jokes and games,particularly during exams." Neil started to protest, but was again cut off by Mr.Edgar,who had worked up a full head of steam. "You have both failed this examination. You will apologiseto the class for the disruption, and then you will leave." Heglared at the two boys. "Do you understand?" Both boys nodded a sullen 'yes'. "Any further problems," the teacher finished hispronouncement of sentence, "And you will be removed from thisclass permanently. Perhaps you will be able to make up the coursein summer school." Gary didn't react, but Neil looked up in alarm. That wasabout the most serious threat a teacher could make, short ofoutright expulsion. Bakersville was a beach town in southernCalifornia, and summer was by far the best time of the year,particularly for the teenagers. Being forced to waste the summermonths inside the stuffy high school while everyone else partiedon the beach was about the worst fate a teenager could suffer. Apparently cowed, Neil and Gary turned around and stammeredout an embarrassed apology to the class. A few kids giggled -Neil noted that Stacy was one of them - but most looked away,uncomfortable at the humiliation of their fellow students. Thetwo boys then filed out of classroom and into the hallway.

*****

Stacy shrugged her blonde hair off her shoulder and lookedback down at the examination as the class returned to normal.Thank god those two geeks were gone, she thought, and tried toput Neil and Gary from her mind. In her world, there were"people" and there were "geeks", and Neil and Gary definitelyfell into the latter category. She wouldn't even have known theirnames except that Neil had spent the better part of the firstterm of the previous year following her about, and had even askedher out on a date. As if! She had refused in as cruel a manner asshe knew how (which was pretty cruel), and had later asked Pete,her then boyfriend and captain of the football team, to beat Neilup, just to warn him off. Pete had dutifully administered thebeating, and Neil had backed off. She had soon afterward brokenup with Pete - he had lost his place on the football team thatspring - and had put the entire episode from her mind. Reluctantly, she turned her attention back to the exam. Shefrowned down at the test, as if she could intimidate the answersoff the written page. Questions which had been easy for her ayear ago now seemed impossibly hard. Stacy was quite intelligent,and had always gotten almost perfect marks at school, but latelythe constant burden of socializing - cheerleading, beachparties,student council etc. - had left her little time for schoolwork.As a result, she had found herself approaching the first set ofschool exams of her senior year completely unprepared. And if shedid poorly or - unthinkable - failed, she would loose her recordof straight As, and would probably fail to be elected HomecomingQueen, the goal toward which she had been working for the lastfew years. Hence, she had decided to make a few crib notes to gether through the first round of exams. After that, she toldherself, she would get back on track with the schoolwork. Looking around to make certain she was unobserved, shepushed the exam paper upwards to expose the notes she had writtenon the cheat-sheet...

*****

Neil smouldered with anger as walked down the hall withGary. That had been the perfect chance to get back at that bitchStacy, and Gary had blown it for him! Neil's thoughts lingered onStacy as he grumbled to himself. Stacy was one of those unattainable high school princesseswho enjoyed showing herself off, but didn't put out. With hershoulder-length blonde hair, perfect face (large green eyes, pertnose and thick,pouty lips), and athlete's body (she was a memberof both the swim team and the track team), she was easily themost beautiful girl in Greenwood, and every male student's dream. But dream she remained for most. She moved exclusively inthe highest high school social circles, and only went out withsports stars and the like. Neil had developed a crush on herearlier the previous year, and it wasn't until she had sent thatfootball jerk to beat him up that he got over her. The fact was,she only noticed guys like Neil (and Gary, for that matter) whenthey bothered her, and she had to put them off (or "...out oftheir misery..." as Neil had once heard her laughingly remark toone of her friends). The two boys left the school by the side entrance and beganto walk across the south parking lot. Finally, Neil could containhimself no longer. "Why'd you shut me up in there?" he complained, "I had thatbitch right where I wanted her. I owe her." Gary just smiled at this, making Neil uncomfortable. WhereNeil was loud and obnoxious, Gary was quiet and strange. Despitethe fact that the two had been friends for a number of years,Gary was still capable of unnerving his larger friend with hisstrange smile and even stranger ideas. "What's so funny?" Neil asked nervously. "You're right," Gary answered quietly, "We do have her wherewe want her, but not in the way you mean." Neil was puzzled. "What are you talking about?" "If you had told on her back in the classroom just now,Edgar might or might not have believed you. Probably not; youknow he doesn't like us. And if not - if Stacy had managed tohide her cheating - we would have been kicked out of the classfor good, and been stuck in summer school. And even if he hadcaught her, at most she would have failed the exam, if that. Theteachers love her. Then she would set her friends on us." "But..." Neil began. "You remember Pete." Neil could only nod glumly in agreement, recalling thebeating he had suffered last year. Stacy had no shortage offriends on the football team. "So," he said finally, "You said wehad her where we wanted her." "Yes, I did," Gary agreed. "How?" By now, the two boys had reached Gary's car, a large, blackPontiac. Gary unlocked the doors before answering. "If she's cheating now on a math test," he explained, "shemust be in trouble with her schoowork. She's always gotten topmarks in math." "Yeah?" Neil was still confused. "So?" "So," Gary continued patiently, "It's a pretty safe betshe'll cheat again. There's an English test coming up next week,and I don't think a little cheat-sheet will be of much use toher. You have to have read the material." He started up the carand began to pull out of the parking space. Neil thought thisover as Gary manouvered the vehicle out of the school parking lotand onto the road. "So," he asked finally, "What do we do about it?" "I'll tell you when we get to Sharon's place," Garyanswered, "We'll need her for what I have in mind."

*****

Sharon was Gary's friend and sometime girlfriend. Neil wasnever really sure about their relationship - he knew that theywent out and that they occasionally had sex, but he also knewthat Sharon did the same with at least a couple of other guys.Gary, however, didn't seem to mind, so Neil had decided to takethings at face value. He had even made something of a pass atSharon at a beach party last summer, but had been rebuffed. Hewas philosophical about it; Sharon wasn't really his type anyway. The girl in question appeared in the doorway, answeringtheir knock. A year younger than the two boys, Sharon was shortand heavy, with large breasts and curly, brown hair. Anysuggestion of cuteness, however, was quickly dispelled by herhard face and small, piggy (Neil thought) eyes. If there was anybeauty there, it was definitely in the eye of the beholder. Shewas smoking a cigarette as she answered the door. After a quick greeting (and an obligatory "hello" toSharon's mother - propped up, as usual, in front of thetelevision), Sharon led the two boys down to her basementbedroom, locking the door behind her (Sharon's parents were"progressive", and felt that she needed her privacy). Neilaccepted a cigarette and flopped down into a chair while pullinga lighter from his jacket pocket. Gary, who didn't smoke, justleaned up against the dresser. Sharon lay down on the bed andpropped herself up with a pillow. "So," she asked, flicking some ash onto the dirty shagcarpet, "What are you guys doing here? I thought you had mathwith Edgar until 3:00." Neil grimaced. "We did," he answered, "Until he kicked usout." "What?" Gary took over the explanation and outlined the sequence ofevents that had led to their expulsion from the math class.Typically, Sharon immediately blamed Stacy. "That cunt!" she swore angrily, "Cheating on the test andgetting you guys kicked out. She's really asking for it." "Yes, she is," Gary agreed quietly, "And I think I know howwe can give it to her." "What do you mean?" "We know she's cheating on her exams, right?" Neil and Sharon nodded in agreement. "I think that it's pretty likely she'll cheat again. I don'tthink that she's had to do it before, so she's probably waybehind in her work. The fact that she's cheating - and that weknow she's cheating - gives us a hold on her; a way ofblackmailing her, but we need more." Neil thought this over for a few moments. "Like what?" heasked. "First, we need concrete evidence of the cheating. No one isgoing to take our word over Stacy's. That's where you come in,Sharon. Your dad lets you use his video camera and radio -microphone. We'll use that to trap her." "And then what?" Neil was starting to become excited at theprospect of blackmailing Stacy. Gary fell silent for a moment, looking at his two friends. "How much," he asked finally, his voice strained and odd,"How much do you hate her? I mean really. How much do you want tosee her suffer?" "Hey man," Neil answered uneasily, "I just want to get backat her for putting me down last year. I don't want to, like, beather up or anything." "Well, I would," Sharon spat out. "I hate the bitch. Alwaysflaunting herself, and prancing about like she owns the wholefucking school. She deserves whatever she gets. I'll do whateveryou want to help get her." Gary looked over a Neil, his eyebrows raised as if to ask'are you in?'. "Aw, fuck it," Neil said finally, "I hate the bitch as muchas anybody. I'm in all the way." "Good," Gary nodded, "Cause when we're through with her,she'll be the biggest slut in the history of Greenwood High."

*****

The English exam was being held the following Monday, onlyfive days away, so they had to move quickly. The first step wasto get ahold of the exam questions beforehand, a propositionwhich might have proved difficult but for the advances inelectronics technology which had culminated in the computer. Exampapers were commonly written out on school computers and storedin the school network, which allowed for "maximum flexibilitywithin the school bureaucracy regarding application ofsecretarial assets". Incidentally, it also allowed someone withthe appropriate equipment and skills to break into the system anddownload the required information without leaving any traces ofhis actions. Gary, something of a hacker, had broken into the system anumber of times in the past with his home computer and modem andwas quite familiar with both the security measures and the layoutof information within the network. In the end, it took him all ofabout twenty minutes to download the appropriate exam paper. Neiland Sharon were impressed. "Jesus," she muttered, "I wish you'd told me about thisbefore I failed my fucking history test last year." Gary just shook his head. "I don't think this is the kind ofthing you want to do too often. If I go in often enough, they'llfigure out what's going on. I was saving if for a specialoccasion." He looked up at his two friends and grinnedmaliciously. "And I think this is it."

*****

Frustrated, Stacy slammed the book shut. The exam was comingup in just a few days, and there was no way she was going to beready. She had done her best to catch up on the first two months'work in a couple of days, but it was almost impossible for hereven to get through the material in time for the test, much lessactually understand it. And there was impossible for her to cheaton this exam the way she had in math. In that class, she hadgotten away with writing out a number of formulas andapplications on crib notes, but that just wouldn't work for anEnglish test. There was too much material to read and assimilate,and without knowing exactly what material the test was going tofocus on, she was forced to try to learn it all in just a fewdays: a daunting task at best, and almost certainly doomed tofailure. She was going to blow the test for sure! Stacy slumped back in her chair and stared at her poutingreflection in the desk mirror. It wasn't fair. How could she beexpected to keep up with all of this classwork while at the sametime attend all the student council meetings as well as the swimclub practices each morning. It was impossible. They justexpected too much of her! She felt her large, green eyes brimmingwith tears; she wanted to be Homecoming Queen so badly, andnow... She was interrupted from her self-pity by the ring of thephone at her bedside. Sniffling, she got up and crossed the roomto answer it. "Hello?" It was Ashley, her friend from school. Careful todisguise her inner turmoil (Ashley, like all of the other girlsin their particular clique, could smell weakness the way a sharksmells blood; any hint of a problem and it would be all over thegroup by the end of the next school day, threatening Stacy'sposition), Stacy fell easily into the standard school banter ofgossip, innuendo and casual put-downs of other students. Stacywas good at this, and Ashley sensed nothing out of place. After a while, Neil's name came up, and Stacy happilyrecounted the events of yesterday's math test. Ashley had almostcertainly heard about it by now, but the combination of afirst-hand account together with Stacy's particular style ofsarcastic humour made the story well worth hearing for a secondtime. The two girls were soon laughing together at what hadhappened. "Well," Ashley laughed at the end of the story, "It doessound as if they made absolute assholes of themselves, alright.And that threat of summer school must have scared the shit out ofthem from what I heard." "What do you mean?" "I heard that Neil has got ahold of some of some of the exampapers coming up. I guess he wants to bring up his overall marksso Edgar can't fail him or something like that." Stacy felt her heart jump a beat as her breath caught in herchest. Neil had copies of future exams? "Where did you hearthat?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual. Evidently shehad succeeded, as Ashley failed to detect the change of mood. "Laura told me," she answered, "I think she heard it fromSharon, although why she was talking to that cow, I don't know.You remember Sharon? She was the one..." Ashley started to droneon about Sharon, who was definitely not a part of their exclusiveclique, but Stacy wasn't listening. Neil had copies of someupcoming tests. AND HE WAS IN HER ENGLISH CLASS! After a while, Ashley wound down, and Stacy let theconversation die a natural death. While she was careful not tomention Neil and the exam papers again, it was never far from hermind. Finally, the two girls said goodbye and Stacy hung up thephone. Thoughtful, she walked back to her desk and looked the pileof unread English books. Cheating was a serious matter atGreenwood (it had taken her a long time to screw up her courageenough to do it during the math test), but stealing exam paperswas something else altogether. She remembered a guy who had beencaught with a stolen paper about four years ago, when she was inher first year at the high school. He had not only been expelled,but the school had prosecuted him for breaking and entering andtheft (they succeeded on the first count, but failed on thesecond). It had been all over the papers in Bakersville. Sheshuddered at the thought of that happening to her, but what wasthe alternative? Besides, she thought, making up her mind, she wasn'tgoingto get caught; she was too smart for that.

*****

It was all too easy! Stacy had approached him the next day - justas Gary hadpredicted - and, in the guise of sympathizing with him over hishumiliation in Edgar's math class a couple of days ago, she hadsounded him out about the papers for the upcoming exams. As Garyhad instructed him, Neil pretended to be suffering from a badcold and sore throat, and lowered his voice to a rasp. Stacydidn't seem notice; either she didn't care, or couldn't rememberwhat he normally sounded like. Probably both. Enjoying the experience of Stacy being friendly to him(although aware that Stacy had skilfully manipulated thecircumstances of their "accidental" meeting in such a way as tolocate it in the Study Hall, which was usually deserted), Neildrew the encounter out, repeatedly side-stepping her indirectattempts to get him to admit to having the papers. Finally, she was forced to ask him directly: did he havecopies of the upcoming exam papers? Seemingly reluctant, Neileventually admitted that "yes" he happened to have some copies offuture exam papers, and "yes", in particular, he did have copy ofnext week's English exam. "Why do you want to know?" Stacy lookeddown and flushed. When she looked like that,Neil was almost willing to feel sorry for her. Almost. All he hadto do to push back any feelings of affection was remember thebitchy way in she had rejected him last year and then gotten himbeaten up. He knew what she was like. "I want a copy of that exam," she admitted finally, "I needit for this weekend." Neil pretended to be shocked. "Stacy, you mean you want acopy of a stolen exam paper so you can cheat on next Monday'sEnglish test?" Stacy swallowed back an angry retort. Couldn't he be alittle more subtle? Idiot! Still, there wasn't much she could doabout it. "Yes," she admitted, "I need it to pass the exam." Neil just stared at her, not saying anything. "I'll pay money,"she added, "How about $100?" Still nothing. She was almost frantic. "Please?" "Alright," Neil relented, as if making up his mind, "I'llsell you the stolen exam paper for $100." Stacy almost collapsedwith relief. Everything was going to work out! "Will that be all, Stacy, or do you want any more exams? Ican probably get whatever you want." Stacy looked up, excited. This would solve all of herproblems with the schoolwork. "That sounds great," she told himenthusiastically, "I'll buy whatever you can get for the classesI'm in. $100 a paper." "It's a deal." Neil could barely repress a grin of triumph.They had her! Now, only one more thing... "Meet me tomorrow afterschool in the woodworking shop. It should be deserted on Fridayafternoon." "Fine," Stacy agreed, "I'll be there." She turned to go. "Don't forget the money," he reminded her, but by then shewas gone.

*****

"Remember," Gary repeated for what seemed like the hundredthtime, "keep your back to the wall and face slightly away from thecloset. Make sure that Stacy is always facing you so that we geta good angle from where Sharon will be filming." Gary and Sharonhad cleared out one of the storage closets in the workshop, andSharon was set up inside with her video camera filming through aknot-hole. Gary was set up with a still camera in the upperstorage area across the room. In order to cover the noise of thecamera, he had turned on the rotation fans which were fastenedfrom the ceiling; the resulting hum was more than sufficient tomask any noise he might make. Satisfied at last that everything was inorder and Neil knewwhat to do, Gary climbed the short ladder to the storage area andconcealed himself behind a stack of wood. Neil watched himdisappear from view. After a quick glance to make certain thecloset door was properly closed, he sat back in a chair andwaited for Stacy. Stacy arrived ten minutes late, looking a little uncertain,but determined to carry through. She crossed the room as Neilwatched in appreciation. She was wearing tight jeans and a whiteblouse which left her tanned arms bear past the shoulder.Bakersville was having an unusually long Indian Summer, and herclothing reflected the fact of this unseasonable warmth. Neil gothard imagining what lay beneath the blouse. Soon, he told himselfas Stacy approached him, soon he wouldn't have to imagine. Hestood up as she approached. "Well," she asked as she got to where he was standing, "Doyou have it?" She was more her usual bitchy self today, now thatshe was getting what she wanted. Perfect, Neil noted silently. She's standing exactly whereGary wanted her to stand. "I've got it," he told her in the samegruff voice he had used the day before, "One stolen English exampaper for Stacy Richards." He held up the computer printout. "Andmy money?" Stacy reached into her pocket and pulled out the cash.Silently, she handed it over to him. Just to make her angry, heslowly and noisily counted the money, making a production of it."It's all there," she said angrily, "You don't have to worryabout that; now or in the future." "Fine," he answered, handing over the exam questions, "It'sall yours." In a hurry to leave, Stacy snatched the paper and quicklyscanned the contents. As promised, the paper contained the fourquestions which would form the basis of next Monday's Englishclass examination. "Thanks," she said shortly, all business, and turned to walkaway. "Good luck with the test," he called after her, but sheignored him and left the room. The room fell silent for a few second, and then Gary poppedup from behind the wood. "Looked good from here," he announced,"I think I got some good shots." He began climbing down theladder as Neil walked over to the cupboard where Sharon washiding. He opened the door and helped her out from behind thecamera tripod. "That was great," she chortled, "I got everything." Neil reached into his jacket and pulled out the smallradio-microphone. He handed it over to Sharon who clipped it backonto the video camera. "Well guys," Gary stated, "A little bit of editing, and Ithink we have her." Neil began to get hard again, just thinking about what thatmeant...

*****

They waited almost two weeks before lowering the boom. Bythat time, the English exam had come and gone, and Miss Frankelhad read out the marks in class. Stacy had received the highestmark ever given out in Miss Frankel's English class, a factcommented upon several times by the impressed teacher. Neil, onthe other hand, had barely passed. When his mark was announced,Stacy gave him a startled glance, but then quickly looked away.If he was so stupid that he could barely pass with advance noticeof the questions, that was his problem. By that time, Gary and Sharonhad suitably edited the videoand audio evidence, and Gary had developed a large number ofprints from his still pictures of the event. Gary still hopedthat the audio tape would be enough on its own (he didn't wantStacy to realise the extent of the plot against her), but if not,the additional evidence was very convincing. Everything hadturned out perfect: Stacy's actions and words were crystal clear,while Neil was unrecognizable. Between his disguised voice andpositioning during the filming, there was no way to prove theidentity of the person from whom Stacy bought the stolen exampaper. Gary thought that this, along with the fact that Stacy haddone so well and Neil so poorly on the test, should serve toprotect Neil from expulsion if they were forced to use theevidence. As well, Gary and Sharon were willing to give Neil analibi. At best, it would be Stacy's word against their's, and, ifit came to that, Stacy's word would not be worth much by then. So, it seemed that everything was in order. All thatremained was to determine the method of delivery...

The small package arrived in the mail at the Richardhousehold on the Friday almost two weeks after the English exam.It was addressed to Stacy. When it was opened, a cassette tapefell out along with a small piece of note paper. She picked it upand read it: 'SAT. MORNING: 10:00 AM STEWART PARK FOUNTAIN. Itwas written in clumsy block letters. Puzzled, she took the tape up toher room, slipped it intoher walkman, put on the head-phones and hit the play button.Almost at once, her head was filled with the sound of her ownvoice: "I heard you have a copy of next week's English exam. Isthat true?" "Why do you want to know?" That was Neil! What was going onhere? There was a brief hissing, then the tape continued,relentlessly. Stacy listened in panicked disbelief. "I want a copy of that exam. I need it for this weekend." "Stacy, you mean you want a copy of a stolen exam paper soyou can cheat on next Monday's English test." "Yes. I need it to passthe exam... I'll pay money. Howabout $100? Please?" "Alright, I'll sell you the stolen exam paper for $100. Willthat be all, Stacy, or do you want any more exams? I can probablyget whatever you want." "That sounds great. I'll buy whatever you can get for theclasses I'm in. $100 a paper." "It's a deal. Meet me tomorrow after school in thewoodworking shop. It should be deserted on Friday afternoon...Don't forget the money." The hissing stopped for a second as the tape fell silent,but before Stacy hit the stop button, it started up again, thistime with a small humming sound in the background. The fans,Stacy realised, fighting down panic, the fans in the woodworkingshop. Trembling, she listened as the voices began once again: "Well," her voice again, "Do you have it?" "I've got it. One stolen English exam paper for StacyRichards. And my money?" There was a brief moment of silence, and they the sound ofpaper being crinkled. "It's all there; you don't have to worry aboutthat... nowor in the future." "Fine, It's all yours." "Thanks." The voices fell silent, and she heard a door slam: the shopdoor slamming when she left the room. The hiss slowly faded asthe recording came to halt. Hands trembling, she pulled the ear-phones off her head andsat still in stunned disbelief. This couldn't be happening toher! Her eyes brimmed over with tears as she picked up the noteand re-read it. The writing blurred through the tears as sherealised that she had no choice: she would have to go to themeeting tomorrow and see what he wanted.

--

Neil checked his watch for the tenth time in as manyminutes: still five minutes to go before the 10:00 meeting withStacy. He paced back and forth on the path before the fountain,pausing only to push back his stringy, brown hair and survey thesurrounding area for any sign of her approach. The park wasempty, however, with the exception of a few joggers and the oddperson out walking their dog. (At least, Neil thought they wereodd; he hated dogs.) The area around the fountain was pretty muchdeserted, which made it perfect for the upcoming meeting. If, ofcourse, that meeting ever took place. Despite Gary's repeatedassurances, Neil was still not certain that Stacy would show up.He half-expected to see a police car pull into the parking lot orsomething like that. Gary, however, had been sure of their plan.He argued that for someone like Stacy, social standing andreputation were all; she wouldn't put either at risk by takingany chances that the evidence of her cheating would get out.Sharon had agreed with him, but Neil was not so sure; it wasn'tSharon's or Gary's ass on the line out here in the park. Still,he thought, it was worth a try, particularly considering thepotential prize at the end of the day! He checked his watchagain: still a few minutes to go. Neil looked up and scanned thepark - if she didn't appear soon... There she was: large as life and twice as beautiful! Stacywas approaching slowly along the jogging path which led into thepark from the beach; she must have parked her car in the beachparking lot, where it was much less likely to be seen. That madesense. As far as Neil could tell, she was alone, which eased hisanxiety considerably. Maybe this would work after all. He stoppedpacing and watched as she walked towards him. As she drew closer, he saw that her eyes were red and puffy,as though she had been recently crying, or hadn't slept much.Maybe both. She looked scared. If anything, though, Neil thoughtit made her even more gorgeous. This is really going to work,Neil thought to himself, his heart picking up speed. Finally, she reached the circular path before the fountainand, after hesitating briefly, she walked up to him. "Stacy," he greeted her...

*****

Stacy had indeed spent an almost sleepless night, tossingand turning in anticipation of what would happen the nextmorning. When she finally did get up, she was almost exhaustedwith apprehension. All she could think about was what hadhappened to the last person who had been caught with a stolenexam paper. The expulsion from school... the criminal charges...the public exposure! That was the worst. The thought of thehumiliation made her tremble as she quickly got ready to leavefor her encounter with the person who sent the note. A briefexcuse to her parents at breakfast, and she was out the door andon her way. Stacy was not surprised to see Neil standing at the fountainas she entered the park. The blonde teenager had quickly realizedlast night that the note must have come from him. He was the onlyperson who knew about her cheating, and he was the only personwho could have taped their meeting. The question was: what did hewant from her to keep quiet about it? The answer, unfortunately, was notdifficult to figure out. She could see the way he watchedher as she approached the fountain. The way his eyes played overthe curves on her body, undressing her. Stacy shuddered. She didnot find him attractive - he was tall and painfully thin, withlong greasy hair and an unpleasant complexion - but had made upher mind the previous night that she would do anything - almostanything - to get the tape back, including sleeping with him.Anything to keep him quiet. She was afraid, however, that thiswas exactly what she was going to have to do. "Stacy," he greeted her as she approached. He was smirking. "I thought it would be you," she spat out, unable to hidethe anger and hatred in her voice. "What do you want?" "Why, Stacy," he feigned surprise and hurt, "is that any wayto greet your partner in crime? You seemed happy enough to see mea couple of weeks ago... when you needed the exam paper." Thetall teenager sat himself down on a bench and patted the spacenext to him, gesturing for her to take a seat next to him. "Fuck you,"she blurted out. "I want that tape." Shecouldn't believe he had the nerve to treat her like this. Shefought down the urge to slap that obnoxious smirk off his uglyface; there was time for that later. Neil just smiled slightly and again patted the place next tohim on the bench. "I don't think that that's a very helpfulattitude," he said mildly. "Why don't you just sit yourself downright here, and we'll have a little chat about it." She just stared athim angrily. "After all," he continued, "it wouldn't do to be seenarguing in public. Someone might ask why." Torn between anger and fear, Stacy hesitated for a fewmoments more, but finally gave in and sat down beside him. Shetensed up as he put his right arm around her shoulder, but didn'tpull away. She hoped no one could see them together; it would beimpossible to explain this to her friends at school. "That's better," he said smoothly. "Now we can talk." She turned slightly towards him, ignoring the condescendingtone of his voice. Anger had won out over the fear, if onlybriefly. "You know what I want, you fucker. You tricked me. Iwant that tape back, and I want you to shut your fucking mouthabout the whole thing, you asshole..." She was stunned into a shockedsilence as he brought hisleft hand around and slapped her across the face. It wasn'tparticularly hard, but it was surprising and humiliating. Shebrought her hand up to her stinging cheek and started to pullaway, but Neil held her close. Tears welled up in her eyes. "First thing, Stace," he told her quietly. "Don't swear atme, or even in my presence. It makes you sound cheap. Do youunderstand?" Dumbly, she nodded her head as the tears began to flow downher cheeks. The humiliation at being talked to like this was evenworse than being slapped. What was he doing to her? When he saw her nod, he relaxed his hold, but still kept hisarm around her. The cheek he had slapped was starting to turnred, so he leaned forward and kissed it. Stacy tensed and startedto tremble, but she didn't pull away. "There, there," he saidsoothingly, as he brought his hand up to wipe the tears off hercheeks, "Is that better?" Trembling, she nodded. "Fine," Neil leaned back on the bench. "Now we can talk. Asyou know, I have evidence that could fuck you up at Greenwood. Idon't want to use it like that, but I will if I have to." "If you give out that tape," she argued, regaining somecontrol (but still not pulling away from his encircling arm),"you'll be expelled too. I'll let everyone know who sold me theexam. We'd go down together." She had thought of that argumentlast night, while tossing and turning in bed. Neil just shrugged. "You can try," he answered. "But I don'tknow if anyone will believe you. My voice can't be recognised onthe tape and I have friends who will be willing to swear that Iwas somewhere else that Friday. Besides, I almost failed thetest; who'll believe I had the questions ahead of time?" He fellsilent for a moment and looked at her. "And even if I do getexpelled, it's no big deal; people expect it of me. It's yourreputation that matters." He was right. Stacy began to cry again, and was forced tosuffer the humiliation of Neil again brushing the tears from hercheeks. "S-so, what do you want, then?" She was defeated. Shewould give him what he wanted. "You," came the expected answer. "For just one night.Tomorrow night. I want you to make love with me and act as thoughyou like it. After, I'll give you the only copy I have of thetape." Stacy began to tremble again as he said this, but she wasnot particularly shocked. Here, she was on familiar ground; mostof the boys at school wanted the same thing of her, and she wasused to dealing with their desires. As well, she had expectedsomething like this, and it could have been a hell of a lotworse. She didn't find Neil attractive, and almost gagged at thethought of having sex with him, but she was certainly not avirgin. And one night wasn't forever. It would be unpleasant, butit would be over with quickly, and she would never have to talkto him again. And, once she had the tape... Stacy was careful, however,not to let her thoughts show.No need to let this asshole know that she was not as scared asshe seemed. "And you'll give me the tape?" she asked quietly. "Sure." "How do I know that you won't keep a copy of it andblackmail me again?" "You don't," came the simple answer. "But I swear on mymother's grave that I will not use the tape to blackmail youagain." She looked doubtful, but he just shrugged. "That's thebest I can do." "Just one night?" Neil nodded. "And it'll be a secret, right? You won't tell anybody?" Thiswas crucial. If anyone ever found out that she had slept withNeil French, whatever the reason, she would be ruined at school.It would be even worse than being caught cheating. Once again, Neil nodded. "No one will have to know," he toldher. Stacy fell silent for a few moments and then nodded heragreement. She had stopped trembling and seemed thoughtful. "OK,"she agreed, finally, "I'll do it. Just one night. And no oneknows." "Right." Neil could barely keep himself from laughing outloud. If only she knew what they had planned for her! "Show up atmy place tomorrow night at 7:00. Can you find it?" "I have a student directory," she answered, "I'll find it."She pulled away to get up and leave, but Neil held her close. "Don't I get a goodbye kiss?" he asked her. "To keep meuntil tomorrow?" Fighting down an urge to vomit, she allowed herself to bepulled toward him and pressed her lips to his. Her hands hanginglimply at her side, she tried to keep her mouth shut, but histongue was insistent, and was soon exploring the inside of herunwilling mouth. His breath smelled like smoke and she almostgagged. "Just one night," she told herself, as he drew the kiss outuntil it was more like necking than a single kiss. Finally, he released her. Gasping, she staggered to her feetand hurried off. "Until tomorrow then," he called after her.

*****

Sharon squeezed herself into the back of closet, trying asbest she could to make herself comfortable in the pile ofclothing Neil had laid out for her. From where she sat, she hadan unobstructed 3/4 view from the head of Neil's bed. She peeredthrough the viewfinder of her father's video camera. "Looksgood," she reported to Gary, as he watched from where he sat onthe side of the bed. "As long as the lights stay on, I shouldhave no trouble with the filming. It's kind of tight in here,though." Gary smirked at her. "You should be getting used to it bynow," he joked. "That cupboard a couple of weeks ago was nobigger." Sharon laughed in agreement. What with the filming in theWoodwork Shop, and now in Neil's bedroom, she was becomingsomething of an expert in this sort of thing. Perhaps, shereflected, she should look into becoming a private detective.There must be a lot of money in doing this sort of thing fordivorce cases in the like. The 17 year-old girl settled back against thecloset wall asher friend and sometime boyfriend adjusted the tripod and camerain front of her to give her a little more room. She was lookingforward to the upcoming events, although she still found it hardto believe that Stacy would show up and go through with it.Imagine... the Ice Queen agreeing to fuck Neil! (Imagine anyoneagreeing to fuck Neil.) And she was there to get it all on tape!Between the camera she was running, and the second video cameraset up on the bookshelf beside Neil's bed, they should be able tocatch the whole event for posterity. And after that, Gary hadplans for Stacy that made Sharon wet and shivery just thinkingabout them. She hated Stacy, and all of the stuck up cunts likeher at school. The chance to fuck one of them over wasirresistible for her. "You OK?" Gary broke into her thoughts. The camerawas setup in front of her, and everything was ready. "Gimmie a kiss," she ordered, reaching up. Gary leaned overand kissed her fully on the mouth, his tongue playing with hers.She could tell that he was as excited about what was going tohappen as she was, despite his calm manner. Maybe they had timeto... "Hey hey," Neil called out jokingly, entering the bedroom."This is supposed to be my night. Knock it off." Reluctantly,Sharon let go of Gary and settled back down into her position inthe closet. Trust Neil to show up at the wrong time. Gary smiledat her and shrugged his shoulders. "Later," he whispered. Sharon shivered as he partially closed the closet door,leaving it open just a crack. "Shit," she muttered to herself,trying to get comfortable. A few moments later, she was wishingthat she had a cigarette.

Stacy preceded Neil into his bedroom and stood there whilehe closed the door behind him. She was wearing blue jeans and ayellow tee-shirt, and had her blonde hair pulled up into a simpleponytail. "Like it?" Neil asked, gesturing vaguely towards the room.Stacy looked around. It was a small, basement bedroom,surprisingly bright considering the fact that there was only one,small window. The light, however, did the room no favours. Itmerely exposed the battered '70s-style wood panelling thatcovered the walls. That, along with the worn shag carpet gave theroom a slightly sleazy look to it. More or less what Stacy wouldhave expected. Besides the bed - a single bed, she noticed -which sat in the corner of the room next to the closet, the onlyfurniture in the room was a battered couch and coffee table setup under the window. The table was covered with comics andmagazines, as were the bookshelves which lines the wall over thebed. "Nice," she said sarcastically. "I can see you've done a lotwith it." Before coming, she had decided to be as pliant as shecould be, to go along with everything as quickly as possible, butnow that she was here, she was unable to conceal her contempt andanger. Neil did not react to her sarcasm. "Like a drink?" he asked,pulling out a bottle from under the coffee table. "Whiskey. I'mhaving one." The last thing Stacy wanted to do was hang around for acasual drink, but as long as he was going to have one, shefigured she may as well have a drink as well. It might even makethings a little easier. "Yeah, fine," she answered. "With water."Gingerly, she sat down on the edge of the couch, careful to avoidthe magazines and - she now saw - cigarette ashes which werespread out on the cushion. Neil disappeared into the adjoiningbathroom and mixed the drinks. She heard the water running for amoment, and then he returned with two glasses. He handed one toher and then raised his drink in salute: "To us," he stated. Stacy just stared at him for a moment. Fuck you, shethought. "To us," she echoed unwillingly, raising her own glass.After this is over, she told herself, taking a sip of the drink,I'm going to have to get this asshole taken care of. She knew afew guys on the football team who... "So," Neil interrupted her thoughts, sitting down next toher on the couch, "did you have a nice weekend?" Oh fine, she thought, small talk. Asshole. "Just great," sheanswered sarcastically. "How about you?" "I've been horny all weekend," he told her, "thinking ofyou." His directness and unapologetic crudity shook her, remindingher of her situation, and why she was here. Best to get it overwith as soon as possible. Deliberately, she drained the glass inone gulp and slammed it down on the coffee table. "Stop fuckingaround. Let's get on with it." Neil, however, was in no hurry. He took a casual sip of hisdrink and smiled at her. "Get on with what?" "You know." She gestured vaguely with her hand. "...It." "It?" "Sex," she blurted out. Just how stupid was he? "That's whatyou want, isn't it? That's why I'm here, isn't it?" She flushedand looked down. He wasn't making this easy on her. Neil suddenly reached over and grabbed her face, turning ittowards him so he could look straight into her large green eyes."No," he told her. "I don't just want 'sex'." He mimicked the wayshe had reluctantly said the word. "I want to fuck you." He madea point of emphasising the crudity. "We're going to fuck. Ball.Screw. Get it on." He got up and walked to the bed, pulling hisshirt over his head; the complexion of his back matched that ofhis face. "But first," he said, carelessly throwing the shirtonto the floor beside the bed, "you're going to have to ask." "Ask?" Stacy's head swam in disbelief. She felt a littledizzy, probably from the drink. "Ask?" Neil lay down on the bed, put his hands behind his head andgrinned over at her. "You're going to ask me to fuck you," hetold her. "And then, if you ask nicely, I'll do it." "You're out of your mind!" Stacy tried to get up from thecouch, but stumbled against the coffee table and sprawled backonto her ass, knocking over a pile of magazines. "I'm not goingto ask you..." "Alright," Neil interrupted her. "Then go." He pointedtowards the door. "But by the end of the school day tomorrow,that tape will be in Dr. Grossmann's office." (Dr. Grossmannwas the school principal.) Stacy lurched back to her feet, carefully this time, herhead spinning. "B-but..." "Well?" Neil was relentless. "What's it going to be?" Stacy grasped at a straw. "But you said yesterday that Iwasn't supposed to swear around you," she begged. "You said itmade me sound cheap." She was more than a little humiliated athaving to make this argument, but it was all she had. Surely hewasn't going to force her to... "That was in yesterday," he told her, smirking. "Now, I wantyou to sound cheap; you are cheap." "You bastard!" The tears were starting to flow down herface. "You bastard." "It's your choice," he told her. "Take it or leaveit.Either you ask me real nice to fuck you, or you get the hell outof here. What's it gonna be?"

Gary watched intently from his position in the yard outsidethe window. From where he sat, peering through a small opening inthe blinds, he could see everything that was happening, but wasunable to hear what was being said. Silently, he cursed himselffor not opening the window a crack, but it was too late for that.Hopefully, Neil wasn't fucking up. Still, he would hear it alllater from the video tape. He hoped Sharon was ready. Inside, it looked as if things were shaping up nicelydespite his worrying. Neil had got Stacy to take the drink whichGary had specially prepared for her. Beside the alcohol content,he had mixed in a small amount of a depressant - to lower herinhibitions and a stimulant - to keep her awake and heighten hersenses. Between the two drugs, he hoped the mixture would havethe desired effect. From the look of things inside the bedroom, it was.Stacyseemed confused and frightened. She had staggered to her feet andmoved towards the door as Neil had said something to her, but shedidn't leave - as Gary had known (hoped) she wouldn't - and hadturned back around to face Neil on the bed. Gary looked down tomake certain everything was ready with his camera. There shouldbe some interesting shots coming up...

Stacy looked over at Neil, lying smug on the bed. She wasparalysed with indecision and disbelief. This couldn't behappening to her; it couldn't! Her head swam. He couldn't beexpecting her to... "One more chance, Stace," he called over to her. "Ask orleave." Stacy turned away from his leering face and leaned againstthe bedroom door, trying to gather her thoughts. She was stilldizzy, though, and it was hard to think. Ask or leave... ask orleave... What could she do?! Eventually, however, she came to theonly decision she could; there was no way she could let himrelease that tape. OK you bastard she thought, drawing a deep,shudderingbreath, I'll give you what you want and more. She spun around toface him again. "Neil," she asked, her voice quivering slightly, "I... Iwant to fuck you." She couldn't believe the sound of those wordscoming out of her mouth. Was that really her talking? It didn'tsound like her. She was beginning to feel strangely detached. "What was that?" Neil asked, cupping his ear. "I didn'tcatch what you said." Hands clenched into helpless fists, she repeated the hatedwords, a little louder this time: "I want to fuck you. Please letme fuck you." "You don't sound as if you mean it." Neil pretended to behurt, drawing the humiliation out a little longer. OK, Stacy told herself, trying to remain calm, just give himwhat he wants. Do what he wants, get the tape and get out ofhere. "Please," she repeated, this time pleading in anexaggerated manner, "Please let me fuck you. I want to fuck you." To her shock and anger, Neil just shrugged his shouldersdismissively. "I dunno," he answered. "Maybe I don't want to." Her heart skipped a beat. Was he planning to release thetape after all? "Please," she pleaded - this time for real."Please let me fuck you. I want to... I really do. I'm sorry Iwas mean to you before. Please let me fuck you?" She looked up athim, imploring. Neil seemed to reach a decision. "Let's see what you'vegot," he told her. "Take your clothes off. If I like what I see,maybe I'll let you do it." Stacy, now numb from shock and still dizzy from the drink,reached down and slowly began to take off her tee-shirt. She hadgone so far now, she might as well see things through to thefinish. Her hands shook as she slowly pulled the shirt up over... "Not like that," Neil leered at her. "Do it sexy - like astrip-tease. And ditch the pony tail." Swallowing, Stacy complied, pulling the tie from her hairand shaking it out. With her wavy blonde hair hanging free, shebegan to undress in as sexy a manner as she could manage. Tryingto smile in a seductive way, she slid the tee-shirt up over herhead and twirled it into a corner of the room, exposing her bra.Neil grinned in appreciation. Stacy's tits weren't particularlylarge, but they were very firm and well-formed. Next, to hisdelight, she began to fondle her breasts through the bra, stilllooking at him seductively. After doing this for a few seconds,she unclipped the bra, and pulled it slowly off. Her breastsjutted proudly, nipples erect. Stacy felt a moment of shame atthis, but she was careful not to show it. She was too far alongto think of pulling out now. Suggestively, she ran her hands downher chest, across her naked breasts and along her flat stomach tothe waistband of her jeans. Hesitating only slightly, she undidthe button and allowed the jeans to slide down her long,athlete's legs to the floor. She wore simple, white panties.Stacy stepped out of the jeans and towards Neil. Time to get thisover with. Neil, however gestured towards the panties and shook hishead. Her theatrically seductive smile wavered a bit at this, butshe took it in stride. After all, how much worse could it get?Bending over, Stacy slid the panties down her legs, completelyexposing her crotch to his Neil's view. Now naked except for hersocks, she straightened up and looked at him. What now? "Ask." Neil mouthed the word at her. In as seductive a voice as she could manage, Stacy did asshe was told. "Please," she begged, her voice a throaty whisper,"Please fuck me. I need it so bad... please fuck me." While shebegged, she ran her hands over her hardened nipples, almostcausing Neil to ejaculate right then and there. Was this StacyRichards standing in front of him? "Please," she pleaded. "I wantit now..." Unable to wait any longer, Neil swung his legs around ontothe floor and sat up at the side of his bed. "Come here, bitch,"he growled, his voice hoarse with lust. Dizzy from the mixture of drugs she had been served in thedrink and almost numb from shock, Stacy obeyed. She feltdetached, as if her body was acting on automatic while she - thereal Stacy Richards - watched from a distance. Breathing quickly,she hurried forward, her tits bouncing as she moved. She kneeledin front of him as he gestured for her to do so. "Do you want it?" he asked her gruffly. Stacy looked up at him with her large green eyes, puzzledand unable to think. Want... "My cock, Stace. Do you want my cock?" Stacy fought back tears. "Oh yes," she breathed. "Please,let me have your cock." At his nod, she reached in between his legs andfumbled withthe zipper. A few seconds later, his cock popped out onto hergrasping fingers. It was already extremely hard, and - Stacynoted with loathing - glistening wetly. What now? "Kiss it," he ordered, answering her unspoken question."Give it some tongue." Gagging, Stacy moved her face forward, grasped the penisand, rubbing it gently with her fingers, she began to kiss andlick it. She had done this a couple of time before with aprevious boyfriend. She didn't like it, but was able to keep herrevulsion under control. This activity carried on for a fewminutes before Neil reached down and began to fondle her tits. Toher embarrassment, they responded immediately, the nipplesregaining their previous hardness. Her own body was betrayingher! Her face went red with shame, but she definitely began tofeel a tingling between her legs. "Take it in your mouth," Neil whispered at her a few momentslater, pushing her hair away from her face. His breath was short.Reluctantly, she did so, sliding her warm, wet mouth over hisnow-sticky cock and sucking gently. The salty taste wasunpleasant, but she could stand it as long as he wasn't planningto come in her mouth. Surely, he wasn't... Suddenly, he leaned back and raised his legs. Surprised, shepulled her mouth off his cock and looked up from where she waskneeling, her chin glistening with spittle and pre-come. Shequickly saw what he wanted, and co-operated by pulling off hispants. He was naked underneath, and his cock stuck straight up ashe leaned back on the bed and swung his legs around so he wasagain lying lengthwise. "Climb on," he ordered. Panting, and out ofbreath fromgiving head, Stacy scrambled onto the bed and straddled his nakedbody, her knees propped up on each side of his thighs. Holdingthis position, she panted and trembled, waiting for his nextorder. It wasn't long in coming. He reached forward and played with her breasts for a moment,but then dropped his hands to her crotch, feeling her cunt lips.Stacy's hands twitched with the urge to push his hands away, butthey remained at her sides. He smirked at her. "Wet," hepronounced. "You're really into this." Stacy fought back tears,and tried to maintain a seductive leer. This wasn't her kneelingnaked over Neil French; it was someone else. Neil relaxed back onhis pillow. "I like them a little wetter, though. Let's see ifyou can't make yourself a little more ready." Grasping his meaning, Stacy moved her hands back to hercrotch area and began to play with herself. Closing her eyes, shewas almost able to imagine that she was back in her own room, andnone of this was happening. She moaned involuntarily, as Neilbegan to play with her breasts, kneading them roughly. Herfingers were doing their work, though, and her crotch was soondamp with desire. Finally, Neil had seen enough. Pushing her hands away, hepositioned his cock directly underneath her pussy and looked upat her expectantly. Stacy leaned forward on her hands, so thather breasts hung directly downwards, and slowly slid Neil's cockinto her now-wet pussy. It went in easily, despite that fact thatshe was very tight. Eventually, his cock was entirely swallowedas she knelt on top of him. "Get moving," he ordered her hoarsely. Completely defeated, Stacy began to move up and down, ridinghis cock in and out of her pussy. Despite herself, she began tomoan and pant with desire. Neil leaned up and began to bite andlick her breasts as his hands played over her straining thighs.Stacy gasped. It was painful, but after a while, the pain seemedto meld into pleasure, and a warmth radiated out of her pussy toenvelope her entire body. The detached part of her mind wailed inhorror as her body abandoned itself entirely to the experience. She wasnow making soft moaning sounds in time with herrhythmic self-impalement on Neil's cock. Gradually, her moaningbecame louder and louder as the pace increased and she approachedclimax. Neil, beneath her, began moving his hips in time withher, all the while mauling and biting her small, firm tits asthey dangled invitingly in front of his face. "Oh... oh... oh... oh..." Her moans got louder and louderuntil she was almost screaming. Her eyes were screwed shut andher mouth hung open, slack with lust. "Oh... oh... OH... OH...Ahhh..." Finally, she came with a loud scream of pleasure, her bodyshaking and trembling. That was all for Neil; he could hold backno longer. Just as her orgasm ended, he thrust forward with hiships, and pulled her down, crushing her mauled breasts againsthis sweaty chest and forcing his tongue into her gasping mouth,his cock pumping sperm into her warm, damp pussy. The two teenagers felllimp, their spent, sweaty bodiesstuck together. A few seconds later, Stacy roused herself with agroan and pushed herself off her unwanted companion. His prickslid limply out of her pussy as she clambered off the bed,leaving a thin trail of sperm along the inside of her thigh. Stacy bit back a scream as she caught sight of herself inthe bathroom mirror. Her blonde hair was plastered back from hersweaty face, leaving fully revealed her wide, frightened eyes andnostrils which flared as she gasped for breath. Drool glistenedon her cheeks and mouth where Neil had slobbered on her when hecame. Her sleek body was covered by a fine sheen of sweat and hertits shone red and purple where Neil had mauled and bit them.Sperm trickled out of her sopping cunt, joining the thin, whitetrail laid down on her leg by his cock when she had pulled away. A thinwail rose from her throat as she stared at herreflection. Both the dizziness and the lust which had possessedher earlier had left as though burnt away by the intensity of herorgasm, leaving her clear-headed and terrified. How had she letthis happen? Panting and choking, Stacy stumbled into thebathroom, fell to her knees and threw up violently into thetoilet. Her retching was interrupted by the impact of clothingbeing thrown into the bathroom and hitting her back. It was Neil. "When you're done in there," he called out toher heaving rear, "Get dressed and get out." He had pulled histrousers on and was leaving the bedroom. Stacy continued retching for a few moments before climbingto her feet. Unsteadily, still coughing and gasping, she pulledher clothes on over her sticky, abused body. Dressed, she leftthe bathroom to find Neil sitting on the couch, smoking acigarette. He ignored her for a moment and then looked up, as ifsurprised that she were still there. "Well? I thought I told youto leave." Stacy looked down. "T-the tape," she mumbled. "You said -you p-promised to give it to me." Grinning, Neil reached into a pocket and pulled out acassette tape. "Fair enough," he agreed, tossing it to her. Shewas unprepared, and it bounced off her chest and slid under thebed. Neil laughed as she got down on her hands and knees toretrieve it. The tape securely in her possession, Stacy stood up andmoved towards the door, her only thought to get out of there assoon as possible. "Haven't you forgotten something?" She turned to face him. "What?"The anger was back now,making it easier to deal with his leering face. "To say thank you," Neil told her. "Fuck you," she muttered and stormed out of the room. Behindher, Neil laughed.

--

"We're going to play a game," Gary said, his voice light andmocking. He had shoved his hands into his pockets, and wasstaring off into space. "You can win it; it will have rules andan object. If you do win, we will give you all copies of thevideo tape and pictures. If you lose..." Stacy sat in stunned silence. The whole world - her world -had changed dramatically in the last half hour. Nothing was thesame. That morning, she had woken up an intelligent, free youngwoman. No clouds on the horizon; nothing to foreshadow theimpending danger. It had been almost a week since she had beenforced to have sex with Neil, and she was finally beginning tofeel clean again. She had passed all of the recent tests atschool, and was still a part of the most influential, exclusivegroup of students at Greenwood. Moreover, Neil seemed to havekept his mouth shut, both about her cheating on the English testand the disgusting exercise she had been forced into at hisapartment, and he was now safely relegated back to the peripheryof her privileged existence. Stacy had even shelved her plans forgetting him thrashed by one of her friends on the football team.The whole incident was receding into the past, and she wasunaffected. Still one of the best and the brightest; one of thewinners. Then came the note in her locker. This note was handwritten,not in block letters like the previous one, as if the need fordisguise no longer existed. It simply ordered her to show up atNeil's apartment at 1:00 PM the next day: Saturday, exactly aweek after her last visit. Her stomach had gone cold and her handtrembled as she read the note. Was he going for a repeatperformance? If he was, that little bastard... Just then, Ashley and some friends happened by her locker,and she quickly stuffed the note into her jacket pocket. It wasnot the sort of thing she wanted her friends to know about;particularly Ashley... She greeted them with a smile.

"The game will last for the rest of the school year." Garycontinued speaking. "If you win before the last day of classes,July 2, we will return all of the material to you, and neverbother you again." Stacy heard Gary's voice speaking the words, but it was asif he was speaking at her from a long distance away. Sheunderstood him, but didn't feel any connection with what he wassaying. Was he even speaking to her? She knew that what he wassaying was important, but she was unable to focus on his voice.Her mind continued to drift...

She had arrived that Saturday afternoon prepared for theworst, but what had happened turned out to be much more terriblethan what she had expected; than she could have expected. Neil wasn't alone when she had arrived. Gary, his creepyfriend, was there with him, as was Sharon, Gary's cow of agirlfriend. Gary had just looked at her as she entered Neil'sbedroom, his eyes huge and expressionless through the thick,magnifying lens of his glasses. He was sitting on the couchbeside Sharon, who had giggled obnoxiously when Stacy had enteredthe room, and flicked ashes from her cigarette onto the floor.The ashes sunk into the thick shag carpet and were lost fromsight. The room seemed a lot darker than Stacy remembered it. "What's going on? Why are they here?" Stacy turned as if toleave, but Neil, behind her, had already closed the door. "Whatare you doing?" Stacy was beginning to panic. Neil didn't answer;he just smirked at her as he stood in front of the door. "We have something to show you," came a voice from behindher. It was Gary. "I think you'll find it interesting." He stoodup and pointed to the space on the couch beside his chubbygirlfriend. "Have a seat," he invited. "I don't think so," Stacy answered angrily, pulling herselftogether a bit. She didn't have to take this. "I'll stand, if youdon't mind." Sarcasm. Gary just smiled at her and repeated his gesture. "I thinkit would be better if you sat for this," he told her, his voicemild. "Besides, the couch has the best view of the TV." Stacynoticed for the first time a TV and video machine set up oppositethe couch; they hadn't been there last week. "We wouldn't wantyou to miss anything," Gary continued. Stacy giggled again. Overcome by a vague feeling of dread, Stacy was forced tofight down an impulse to flee; not that it would have done anygood with Neil standing in front of the door. Sharon sat up andcrushed out her half finished cigarette in the ashtray. "C'mon,babe," she called, patting the seat beside her. "I don't bite." Stacy had looked around at the three of them - Neil smirkingby the door, Sharon leaning back on the couch with her armsstretched out, and Gary looking at her with his queer, empty eyes- and then began walking slowly towards the couch. She realizedthat she had no choice in the matter, and there was no use inprotesting further. A small part of her mind began to understandwhat might be on the tape, and started wailing uselessly insideher head, but she was able to repress this as she sat back on thecouch. 'Don't panic' she told herself. Sharon immediately slipped her pudgy arm around Stacy'sshoulder and squeezed. "That's more like it," she laughed. "Justrelax and enjoy the show. You're among friends." Neil chuckled ashe moved away from the door. Stacy tensed - she hated this bitch- but did not pull away. Neil flipped off the lights as Garymoved forward to turn on the TV and start the video.

"If you lose," Gary continued, "well... I can't really say;we haven't thought that far ahead. I must say, though, I reallydon't expect you to lose; I have every confidence that you willmeet the conditions for winning." Somehow, the small part of Stacy's mind which was stilllistening to his voice was not much comforted by this expressionof confidence. Her mind continued to drift...

The tape! That awful tape... They had made her watch theentire thing through from beginning to end, even though she hadtried to jump up out of the couch before the first thirty secondswere up. Sharon had kept her seated, her arm surprisingly strong.Stacy had even tried to keep her eyes shut, but was unable totear her gaze away from the scene which played itself outobscenely on the TV screen in front of her. The sound started first, while the screen remained blank."Please," came the voice over the TV speaker - HER VOICE!"Please let me fuck you. I want to fuck you." The picture fadedup, with her - Stacy - clearly visible in the centre of the room,looking over at some unidentifiable person on the bed. "Please,"she repeated. "Please let me fuck you. I want to... I really do.I'm sorry I was mean to you before. Please let me fuck you?" It was at this point that Stacy tried to jump up off thecouch, but Sharon had been expecting it, and her encircling armheld the panicking girl down. Gary moved over as if to help hisgirlfriend, but stopped as he saw that no help was needed: Stacywent limp and relaxed back into the couch, her eyes wide as shestared at the TV screen. She was watching herself slowly strip off her own clothes.First the tee-shirt... then the bra (Stacy began to cry on thecouch as her TV image fondled and rubbed its breasts; her handfluttered up to her face, as if to shield her eyes, but itdropped back down to her lap when Gary frowned at her)... thenthe pants. Finally, she was naked on the screen. "Please." The girl on the screen (Stacy could no longerbelieve it was herself saying and doing those things; she startedthinking of her image on the screen as someone else) seemed to bealmost panting in lust. "Please fuck me. In need it so bad.Please fuck me." The naked girl ran her hands over her erectnipples. "Please... I want it now..." "Come here, bitch!" The figure on the bed, only visible inthe corner of the picture, spoke (Stacy knew it was Neil, but hermind refused to put a name to him - surely what was happening onthe screen had nothing to do with her). The naked girl respondedquickly; breasts bobbing, she ran over and kneeled at the side ofthe bed. After remaining in this position for a few moments, thegirl reached for the man's crotch and fumbled with the zipper."Oh yes," she breathed. "Please let me have your cock." The viewpoint shifted suddenly, to a shot taken above andbehind the man lying on the bed. (A second camera, Stacyrealized; there had been two cameras.) From the new point ofview, the girl's actions between the man's legs could be seenclearly. First, she handled the cock with her fingers; then shekissed it, long slow kisses with lots of tongue; finally sheenveloped it completely within her mouth. The girl's head bobbedup and down and she made loud slobbering sounds as she worked onthe cock, sucking and licking. The man reached down in front ofher and began to play with her nipples, which were plainly veryhard. Finally, he leaned back and pushed her away. She quicklypulled his jeans off and, after he lay back on the bed, climbedon top of him, straddling his naked thighs. The camera switched back to original point of view, as thegirl began to play with herself while kneeling on the bed. Itzoomed in and panned slowly down her body, from her slack,lust-glazed face, down across her panting chest and, finally,down to her pussy, where her fingers worked frantically. She wasvisibly wet. Then it slowly pulled back, revealing her entirebody, just as she leaned forward and impaled herself on the man'sstiff cock. Slowly, she moved her hips down until the cock wasstuffed fully into her pussy. Then, moaning slightly, she beganto grind her hips up and down, fucking herself silly as the manplayed with her bobbing breasts. Once more, the camera zoomed in, and played down her sweatybody, perfectly capturing each detail on video-tape. The girl'sexcitement began to increase as her moans became cries and thenthreatened to become screams. The camera pulled back just as shehit the crest of her orgasm, and held the shot as the man pulledthe girl down to his chest and climaxed himself. The pictureslowly faded on this shot, with the girl collapsed sweatily ontop of the man, panting and gasping for breath.

"Anyhow," Gary was still speaking, "we won't worry aboutthat for now. The important thing is to set out the rules of ourlittle game and get started. The details can be worked outlater." Stacy just stared across the room at the now-dark screen,in a daze. Gary, who had begun pacing the room during his littlespeech, came to a halt beside the TV. He looked down at her. "Inorder to win the game," he said mildly, "you are going to have tofuck fifty different guys at school before the end of the schoolyear. That's all." Finally, his words began to register on thestunned teenager. Had he said "fifty guys"? Fuck fifty guys? "Nooo," Stacy cried, leaping suddenly off the couch. It wastoo much! Sharon grabbed after her, but the pudgy girl was tooslow. In a split second, Stacy was on Gary, swinging wildly withboth hands while swearing and cursing at him. One of her swingscaught him across the face, sending his glasses sailing acrossthe room. Before Stacy could feel any satisfaction, however, shewas grabbed from behind and pulled away. Neil had run up andwrapped his arms around her shoulders, pinning her arms to hersides. "You bastard! You fucker! You asshole!" Stacy spat andcried, struggling frantically as Neil dragged her back, but itwas no use. She was thrown back onto the couch, and Sharon onceagain held her down. This time, Neil also stood beside the couch,ready for any further trouble. Stacy brought her hands up to herface and began to cry. Gary walked over and picked up his glasses. After examiningthem to make certain they were not damaged, he slipped them backon his face and looked across at Stacy. "That's fifty-five, now,"he said mildly. Stacy just stared at him with tear filled eyes. "You'recrazy," she sobbed. "I won't do anything like that. I can't...you can't make me." "Let me tell you the alternatives," Gary answered, resuminghis earlier pacing. "If you refuse, we will send copies of thattape to every guy at school. We will post the still pictures -you haven't seen them yet, but I can tell you that they are everybit as revealing as the video - at suitable places around theschool and the town. We will even try to sell them to somemagazines, if we can." Stacy sobbed on the couch as he continuedhis litany of threats. "Then, we will release the cassette tapesof you buying the stolen test papers from Neil. In particular, wewill see that Dr. Grossman will get a copy. I'm sure he will knowwhat to do with it." Stacy knew too: expulsion if she was lucky; criminalprosecution if she was not. "On the other hand," Gary continued inexorably, "if you playour game, no one will have to know about these tapes andpictures. There are thirty-two weeks left in school; fiftyfucks... fifty-five, rather, is barely more than three guys everytwo weeks. Easy. And no one would have to know; you could do itas discreetly as you liked." Stacy began to control her sobbing,and started listening seriously to what Gary was saying. "What'smore, you don't even actually have to fuck every time. As long asthey ejaculate somewhere in your body, we don't care where it is:cunt, ass, mouth... whatever." Stacy sniffled loudly. How could he talk so calmly aboutsuch a terrible... "Besides," he continued, "there are other rules. Other ruleswhich should make it a little easier for you to reach fifty-five." "O-other rules?" Stacy couldn't believe that she wasbeginning to consider playing along. Sharon squeezed hershoulder, as if in some bizarre form of encouragement. "Teachers are worth ten," came the answer. "There must be atleast one teacher. Female students are worth three each, andthere must be at least one female student. As well, there must beat least one student fucked in each grade." Greenwood was a fullhigh school, and thus held grades eight to twelve. The gradeeights were only thirteen or fourteen years old. "The gradeeight, nine and tens are worth two each." Gary finished speaking and looked directly at Stacy, who hadbegun to cry again. "Do you understand?" he concluded with aquestion. Stacy nodded through her tears, unable to speak. "Whatwill you do then? Play along, or do we release the tapes andpictures?" The room fell silent, the question hanging in the air. Stacywas momentarily unable to form an answer. On the one hand, shewould have to do all those awful things, but the alternative...the alternative was too terrible to contemplate. She would beruined in Bakersville, both as a person and as a student. Theonly way out was to play along with their little game, and hopeto pull it off without anyone finding out about it. 'Oh god,' shethought, her heart sinking. 'Fifty-five guys.' Mutely, she looked up at Gary and nodded her assent; shewould do it. Gary felt a wave of relief flood over him as she nodded heragreement, but only permitted a small smile to show on his face.Neil, on the other hand, laughed out loud, as did Sharon as theirtension dissipated. There had always been the chance, howeverunlikely, that Stacy would refuse and then go to the police. Now,however, they had her; she would do as they ordered. This wasgoing to be an interesting year. Gary looked down on her as she sat forlorn on the couch,staring at the floor. She looked so upset and vulnerable sittingthere. To Gary, she looked far more appealing in tears than shedid when she was in her usual arrogant position at school. Allthose bitches needed to be taken down a peg or... That gave Gary had an idea. It was time to test theircontrol over her. As well, there was the small matter of herslapping his glasses across the room. "Before we accept your agreement," he told her, "you shouldbe punished for attacking me. We will not permit that from you." Stacy looked up at him, drawn out of her private misery."W-what do you mean?" "I think you need a spanking," Gary told her. "Teach you alesson." Stacy stared in disbelief. "You must be joking." Even aftereverything she had just heard, she couldn't believe what he wassaying. Gary shook his head. "You say you're going to play alongwith our game, but a couple of minutes ago, you attacked me. Howdo we know you won't do it again? Why should we believe you? Yourchoices are simple: obey us, and take your punishment, or leavenow and let us get on with the business of sending out the tapes.It'll probably take most of the weekend to make enough copies."Stacy started crying again - was there no end to her tears? - butinevitably nodded in submission. "Good," Gary told her. "Stand up and pull down your pants."Trembling, Stacy obeyed, exposing her sleek, muscular legs andplain white panties. "Now go lie over Sharon's knees. She willadminister the spanking." Stacy flushed red at this order, whileSharon laughed in delight. For a moment, it looked as if Stacywould refuse, but eventually she began to move around so shecould lie across Sharon's legs as the younger girl sat on thecouch. She moved slowly, taking small, awkward steps because ofthe pants which were bunched around her ankles, but eventually,she fell to her knees and stretched herself across Sharon's pudgylegs. Her ass was completely exposed. Sharon needed no instructions. She put her left arm acrossthe small of Stacy's back, and began vigorously spanking theexposed bottom. Before long, the air was filled with the sound ofStacy's cries and sobs, punctuated by the regular, mercilessslapping sound of Sharon's hand being brought down hard on thenow red flesh of Stacy's ass. Gary tore his eyes away from the scene and looked at Neil,who was watching the action with his mouth wide open. There was aconspicuous bulge in his jeans. Well, Gary thought, why not? Heinstructed his friend to pull down his pants and take a seatbeside Sharon on the couch. Neil did so, and was quickly inplace. Stacy's face was now on his lap as she lay parallel to thecouch across Sharon's legs. The crying teenager turned her headand squirmed to avoid Neil's engorged cock as it stood uprightfrom his lap. Sharon had momentarily stopped spanking and waslooking over with interest. Gary reached down, and yanked Stacy's blonde hair, pullingher tear-stained face upward. "I think you know what you're goingto do, here. We'll be generous and call this number one. Do youunderstand?" Stacy squirmed on Sharon's lap, but nodded. "Goodgirl. Sharon will keep spanking until Neil comes. When he doescome, you take every drop." He released Stacy's hair, and herface fell back down onto Neil's lap. Gary gestured towardsSharon, and she began spanking again.

Stacy pulled her arms forward, and propped herself upslightly. She took Neil's cock in her mouth and began to suck andlick it. It was difficult not to jerk around with the spanking,but Stacy had a pretty good idea of what would happen to her ifshe were to touch Neil's cock with her teeth. Frantically, shesucked, moaning and gasping as her head slid up and down onNeil's penis, and Sharon laid into her ass. The pain from thespanking was getting more intense, but she was quieter now, asNeil's cock served as an efficient gag. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Neil jerked hiships upward and came, spurting wave after wave of hot, saltysperm into her mouth. She struggled to swallow it as ordered, herthroat working frantically, but some of it leaked into herwindpipe, causing her to cough. A wad of sperm was sent up intoher nasal passages, and dribbled out of her nose. When shefinally pulled her sweaty face up off of Neil's now flaccid cock,there was sperm trailing out of her mouth and nose, leaving along strand connected to Neil's penis. Her ass was bright red andshiny where Sharon had been spanking. "Smile," Gary called over. Dazed, Stacy moved her head tothe right - pulling the strand of sperm along with her - just asGary snapped a picture commemorating the event.

That was NUMBER ONE.

--

NUMBER TWO: The blue Plymouth Valiant drove steadily through the mostlydeserted night streets of Bakersville, its headlights cutting aswath through the surrounding darkness. Inside, Barry Packardcould barely believe his luck. He snuck a glance to his right,trying not to be too obvious about it. Sitting beside him, in thepassenger seat, was - unbelievably - Stacy Richards, easily themost beautiful girl in school (in Barry's opinion). She satquietly, staring straight ahead through the front window as thecar rolled along, her perfect features lit intermittently by thepassing street lights. She had seemed a little quiet and nervousthe entire evening, leading Barry to worry that she was bored orunhappy with him - Barry was neither confident nor particularlysuccessful with girls - but when he had apologised and offeredto take her home, she had insisted that she was having a goodtime, and didn't want to go home. In fact, it had been her idea that they head down to thebeach. THE BEACH! That was the prime "make-out" spot for theteenagers of Bakersville. On any given night, there would usuallybe at least a handful of cars parked alongside the long dirt roadwhich traced the coastline to the south of the town. Barry hadnever dreamed that one day he would be taking Stacy Richardsthere (actually, he had "dreamed" about it several times; he hadjust never imagined that it would really happen). Barry steered the car off the paved section of the streetand onto the bumpier dirt road which ran alongside the beach. Inreality, Barry had never expected that he would ever go on a datewith Stacy. Her kind was usually reserved for the star of thefootball team, or some other equivalent sports hero, and eventhen only for the duration of his fame. Barry, on the other hand,was a second-string lineman, only put into the game when theresult was no longer in doubt. In fact, he really didn't evenlike football. He was certainly not particularly ugly orunpopular, but girls like Stacy were usually so far above hisparticular level in the school social strata that he could onlydream of going out with her. It had been a matter of pride withBarry that he had gathered the nerve to ask her out last summer,and although she had turned him down at the time, she had beenless cruel about it than she could have been. Still, he had beenmore than a little surprised when Stacy had called him up lastweek and suggested a Saturday-night date. He had even half-expected that it would all turn out to besome kind of a joke, but when he had arrived at her house to pickher up, she had indeed been waiting for him, a vision of beautyin her short skirt and light blouse. She hadn't seemed overlyfriendly or talkative, but Barry didn't know enough about her toknow whether or not this was her usual behaviour. Still, themovie and dinner had gone off OK, and, of course, it had been hersuggestion that they drive down to the beach afterwards. Even ashe drove along the beach road, Barry still couldn't believe it.His cock bulged pleasurably in his pants as he steered the cararound a bend in the road. "How about here?" he asked, trying, but not quitesucceeding, to sound casual. His voice was hoarse and dry. He hadpicked a fairly popular spot about half a mile along the road;there was another car parked a couple of hundred yards away. Stacy shook her head, her blonde hair shimmering in thestarlight. "Further along," she said quietly. Barry shrugged and drove the car further along the road,passing through and then leaving behind all of the more popularand well-used spots. The road was almost deserted, which wasunusual for a Saturday night, but the weather had been turning alittle cold lately. In fact, Barry had seen Stacy shivering alittle earlier while they had been walking out of the restaurant.He had noted that she was dressed quite lightly for November.Even this far south, the weather began to cool down by this timeof the year. Twenty minutes later, Barry had parked the car in a suitablysecluded spot; there had been no one else on the road for thelast three miles. The night fell briefly silent as the car enginewas shut off, but the sound of the breakers crashing against theshoreline quickly became apparent as the two teenagers sat for afew moments in awkward silence. Barry was too nervous to startanything, and Stacy just sat there, staring out over the dark,black water. Barry could take it no longer. "Well..." He started to saysomething, but was interrupted by the feel of Stacy's handagainst his. His throat constricted and his heart skipped a beatas she slid across the seat and wrapped her arm over hisshoulder. She put her hand on his face and turned it towards her.She was so beautiful in the starlight! "K-kiss me," she whispered, her voice shaking. She soundedcuriously reluctant, almost frightened. Barry, however, didn'tnotice and probably wouldn't have cared if he had noticed. Thiswas a dream come true. He pulled her slim body towards himself onthe car seat and crushed his mouth to hers. After a briefhesitation, her lips parted, allowing him to slip his tongue intoher waiting mouth. She wasn't kissing him back, though; shemerely accepted his advances passively as she sat beside him onthe car seat. Barry, sensing her reticence, pulled away,breaking the kiss. "Is something wrong?" he asked, short of breath. Stacy bither lower lip before answering. In the light, it looked to Barryas if she was about to cry, but she just shook her head.Satisfied, Barry leaned forward again. This time, sheparticipated, crushing her lips against his and moving her tonguearound in response to his advances. Soon, the two teenagers werenecking vigorously in the front seat of the car as the windowsbegan to steam up. A few moments later, Barry felt Stacy touch his hand andthen guide it slowly to her breasts. He responded by squeezingand fondling them through the thin fabric of her blouse. Barrycould barely believe what was happening! Daringly, he pulled openthe buttons on her blouse; a couple of buttons broke free andfell to the seat, but Barry didn't notice. Stacy didn't react. Heslipped his hand in and under her bra, cupping her breast. Hehalf-expected her to put a halt to it, but she just continuedkissing him. Gaining confidence, he reached around with his otherhand and unclipped the back of the bra. It fell away under herunbuttoned blouse, leaving her breasts almost fully exposed tohis hands and eyes. Stacy tensed, but did not object or pullaway. Instead, she reached down and ran her fingers along the now-conspicuous bulge in his jeans. Barry gasped; could this reallybe happening? He pulled back and looked over at Stacy. Her eyeswere closed and her mouth was slightly open; she seemed to bebreathing hard, but it was difficult for Barry to tell in theweak starlight. All he could see were her breasts rising andfalling beneath the open blouse. Misgivings aside, he reachedforward and began playing with those breasts, alternatelysqueezing them and then tweaking the nipples. Stacy gasped atthis, but did not open her eyes. Meanwhile, her hand was at work, sliding open his zipper andreaching inside. She pushed her hand through the already dampfront of Barry's underwear and slowly worked his penis out intothe open. Once again, Barry was struck with a sense of disbeliefat what was happening. He had never heard of Stacy Richardsacting like this, even when she was going steady with someone.Even someone popular. Nevertheless, he continued fondling theoffered breasts, content to let Stacy make the next move. That move wasn't long in coming. Stacy took a deep breath,opened her eyes and then leaned back on the seat, away fromBarry. She sat back against the car door and pulled up her skirt,revealing her legs, pale and white in the starlight. "Stacy..." Barry was suddenly unsure of himself; he had onlyhad sex one time before, and this was largely uncharted territoryfor him. "Are you sure you..." "Yes," she interrupted him, slipping her panties down herleg. "I want to... to do it... have sex w-with you." Once again,her frightened, tentative manner belied the content of her words,but the content was enough for Barry, who was already near tocoming all over the car seat. He needed no more encouragement!Awkwardly, he shifted himself around so he lay atop Stacy'sproffered body in the too-small car seat. He began to thrust hiships forward. "J-just a second." Stacy shifted her position, trying toavoid having her breasts painfully crushed against Barry's chest,but it was impossible. The car seat was just too small, and Barrywas lying right on top of her. Resigned, she reached down andgrabbed ahold of his penis with her long, cool fingers. "Ok... Ok... now." Stacy mumbled instructions as she guidedBarry's stiff cock into her pussy. He was more than co-operative,and thrust forward vigorously when she instructed, but her pussywas still quite dry and she had to force every inch of inside hermanually. Finally, it was inside. Stacy moved her hand away andsquirmed around, still trying to get at least comfortable.Finally, she settled on a position, and put her arms aroundBarry's neck. After that, it was all over in a few seconds. Barry beganpushing his hips roughly back and forth, grating his cock in andout of her unprepared pussy. Stacy tried to find a rhythm whichwould minimize the pain and discomfort, but was unable to do so.A thin line of drool slipped from between Barry's lips anddribbled down onto her chest as he pumped frantically. Gaspingand moaning, she lay there as he suddenly stiffened and than cameinside of her with a loud grunt. Unnoticed by Barry, a tearwelled up out of her eye and slid down the side of her face. Finally, he relaxed, spent. As she lay there, crushedbeneath his weight, she could feel his penis shrivelling upinside her burning pussy as the warm sperm began leaking out anddown the inside of her thigh...

*****

Gary hung up the phone just as Sharon entered his bedroom.He was sitting in front of his computer which in turn sat on topof a desk in the far corner of his room. He nodded a indifferentgreeting to her, and immediately began entering information intosome sort of database program as Sharon walked forward. She cameto a halt just behind him, putting her hands onto his shoulders. "What'cha up to?" He seemed to be entering some names anddates into little boxes on the screen (Sharon knew almost nothingabout computers). "That was Stacy on the phone," he answered, still working."She's fucked two guys since last week. I'm just entering it intothe system." System? Sharon leaned in closer to the screen, suddenlyinterested. "Numbers two and three! Tell me about it." "Number two was Barry Packard." He fiddled with his mouseand then punched the return button on the computer; a new screenwas called up. This screen held a name, a date and otherinformation, including a small picture, obviously taken (scanned,although Sharon didn't know this) from the school yearbook."Barry Packard." Gary pointed to that name at the top of thescreen, and slowly read off the information as it appeared."Fucked on Saturday, Nov.6; it occurred in the front seat of hiscar, which was parked down by the beach. Apparently, he came inabout 20 seconds. Can't blame him, I suppose." Sharon laughed. "Number three?" Gary pushed another button, and another list of informationappeared. "Grant Hardin." Sharon stifled a giggle at his name asGrant's digitized picture stared sombrely out of the topleft-hand corner of the computer screen. He had a big nose."Fucked on Tuesday, Nov.9 in his bedroom. He also came veryquickly. He called out the name 'Susan' when he came." Sharon laughed again. "Seems there's not too many boysaround who can restrain themselves with Stacy Richards. She mustbe a good fuck." Gary just shrugged. "Maybe. We'll see." "Perhaps we'll have to find her some real men," Sharonsuggested. Gary looked intrigued at this suggestion, but didn'tsay anything. Sharon moved away sat down on the side of his bed,pulling out a cigarette. He noticed that she had a small paperbag with her. "What's that?" he asked, as she lit up and took a long,satisfied drag. "Oh, just a little something for Stacy," she smirked. "Alittle present to celebrate her success at the game." She reachedinto the bag and pulled out...

*****

NUMBER FOUR: "You bastard!" Stacy cried. "You fucking bastard!" She layon her back on the leather couch in her parent's living room, hershirt and fingers sticky with sperm. She brushed her handsagainst the front of her shirt in a futile effort to wipe herselfclean, but that only seemed to smear the warm, sticky fluid moreevenly down her front. She began to cry, involuntarily bringing ahand up to her face to cover her eyes. When she took the handaway, her eyelid and cheek glistened with sperm. Toby Hooper, a tall, gangly sixteen year-old, had jumpedback off of her after prematurely ejaculating. His alreadyfreckled face turned bright red with embarrassment as he fumbledto push his sticky cock back into his pants. "Jesus... I'msorry," he apologized, zipping up his jeans. "I d-didn't meanto..." "Just fuck off and get out of here!" Stacy screamed at him."Get out!" Tears ran down her face, mixing with the quicklycongealing sperm on her cheeks. Toby, his pants now securely fastened, continued to stammerout incoherent apologies as he picked up his paper-sack andscurried out of the house. Outside, he jumped onto his bike andpedalled furiously away. Behind him, Stacy continued to cry on the couch, her blondehair in disarray and her shirt and face coated with his quicklydrying sperm. To Stacy, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity whenToby had come collecting money that Saturday morning for hispaper route. She considered him to be, like, a total loser atschool (as well as being a grade behind her) and did not find himthe least bit attractive, with his messy red hair and freckles,but he was a student at Greenwood. From her present, unwelcomeperspective, that was enough. Her parents were away on one oftheir weekend "getaways", so Stacy had been all alone in thehouse when he came by. She had thought that he would prove as easy to seduce asBarry and Grant had the week before - she was, after all, who shewas - but it had turned out not to be so easy. Toby was goingsteady with a girl at school named Tami ("Toby & Tami..." she andAshley had enjoyed making fun of them), and the dork seemeddetermined to be faithful to her. Either that, or he was just toostupid and shy to take a hint. Stacy had swallowed her pride andhad come onto him like a bitch in heat - touching his hand;"accidentally" brushing against him with her breast; makingsuggestive comments about being lonely by herself in such a bighouse - but he would not react. Finally, she had been forced tocome right out with it and more or less ask him directly to havesex with her. He had risen to his feet and turned to go,stammering something about being behind on his paper route, butStacy wrapped her strong arms around him and crushed her lips tohis face in a passionate kiss. When she eventually disentangledher tongue from his, he was breathing hard, and no longer soanxious to leave. She got him safely onto the couch in the living room and,after some more necking, she had succeeded in extracting hisby-then rigid cock from his pants. By now, she had developed atechnique for getting at a boy's cock quickly, although she stillhated the feel of it. He was now co-operating fully, and hadroughly pulled her pants down to her ankles. She fell back on thecouch and prepared to help guide his cock into to her stillunresponsive pussy, but as he had bent over her, his cock hadtwitched and the spurted jism all down the front of her shirt.There was so much of it! He had been saving up for sixteen years.She had thrown her hands up to protect herself, but had onlysucceeded in getting the warm, sticky fluid all over her fingers. Lying there, splattered with warm sperm, Stacy had begun theshrieking which would drive Toby out of the house.

By the time her tears had subsided, the sperm had soakedthrough her blouse and had dried, sticky and brittle, against herskin. Her breathing steadied as she tried to come to terms withwhat she was becoming... what she was being forced to become.Shaking, she got to her feet and stumbled to the phone to makethe report she had made twice before. Then a shower.

*****

Sharon's surprise present had turned out to be a small,stainless steel charm bracelet. It was not particularly expensiveor attractive, but was solidly built, the links almost largeenough to qualify as a chain. Almost. But, it was still a charmbracelet, and as such each link was designed in such a way as toallow for the attachment of numerous small pieces of jewellery,usually figurines or symbols: small hearts and the like. Sharonhad not forgotten about that, and happily dumped the contents ofa somewhat larger plastic bag onto the bed. The resulting pilerevealed a large number - an even hundred, Sharon later explained- of small, steel "F"'s. Ordinarily, such ornaments would be wornon charm bracelets by girls with names beginning with thatletter, but in Stacy's case the letter would stand for somethingelse. Gary quickly figures out what that "something else" wouldbe. By the end of the year, Sharon explained to a laughing Gary,Stacy's charm bracelet should be displaying fifty-five suchornaments. "Belling the cat," Gary chuckled. "I like it." "Not the cat," Sharon disagreed, "the pussy. Belling thepussy." Gary had laughed again and then drew her towards him for anappreciative kiss.

*****

The actual "belling" had gone very smoothly, Sharon thought.The next day at school, Neil and Gary had contrived to lead the"pussy" into the metal-working shop after classes. Before thefrightened Stacy could protest, they had clipped the charmbracelet onto her left wrist, and then forced her arm onto anearby workbench. Sharon had watched from the doorway - servingas a lookout - as Stacy started to struggle and cry out. Herstruggles subsided, however, when Neil brought the soldering ironand solder down to her wrist; the slightest movement would havecaused the molten solder to drip onto her exposed arm. Stacywatched in silent horror as the two boys soldered shut the clipto the charm bracelet, fastening it permanently to her wrist. Shecould still, of course, easily remove it with the proper tools,but such a removal would certainly leave evidence; evidencewhich, Gary quietly explained to Stacy, would lead to theimposition of further punishment and humiliation. The charmbracelet would stay on her wrist until the school year was over. When Stacy had nodded her understanding, Neil took Sharon'splace at the door, and the pudgy girl moved forward and fastenedthe small, steel "F"s to Stacy's newly acquired bracelet.Silently, she affixed four of them, spreading them evenly alongthe bracelet. Stacy looked on in disbelief as understandingdawned in her face. Immediately, her large, green eyes floodedwith tears, but she didn't offer a protest. She knew there wasnothing that she could say. Sharon had smirked at her and moved back when she wasfinished affixing the charms. She and Gary had turned to leavethe room, but Neil had stayed behind, moving towards Stacy withan unmistakable glint in his eyes. Sharon left the room andwalked away, while Gary stayed to stand watch. If she had turnedto look as she left the room, she would have seen Stacy, now onher knees, reach forward - the charms clinking merrily on herwrist - and begin to pull down the zipper of Neil's pants. Sharon had not needed to look back however. She had a prettygood idea of what would happen - what was happening as she sat onthe school steps, enjoying a cigarette. She was, however, rudelyjarred from her pleasant thoughts by a door banging shut behindher, and the sound of someone crying. Turning, Sharon saw TamiSlaighter, a classmate of hers. Sharon and Tami were notparticularly close friends, but Sharon's curiosity compelled herto stand up and comfort the girl. Bit by bit, the story came out as the sobbing Tami toldSharon the reason for her tears.

*****

NUMBER FIVE - EIGHT: Dennis Baxter, thirteen years old, had had no directexperience with girls and was certainly a virgin, but he knew sexwhen he saw it. He was seeing it now, as he stared through thepartially open doorway which led to the instructor's storeroom inthe section of Greenwood set aside for the grade eight classes.Every Friday afternoon, the grade eights took Recreation as thelast class of the day. This basically consisted of playingvarious games - outside when it was warm enough, and in the gymwhen it was not - and was supervised by upper level students forextra credit. Dennis's class was supervised by Stacy Richards, and it washer that he had gone looking for after arriving late for class;Dennis had a Doctor's note that needed delivering. When he hadarrived in the gymnasium, his classmates had told him that theinstructor had gone to the storeroom for some equipment. In ahurry to deliver the note and join his friends, Dennis hadhurried along, hoping to find her. Well, he had found her alright, but she was in no positionto receive the (now forgotten) note he held clutched in hissweaty hand. As he looked through the doorway, he was greeted bythe sight of Stacy Richards on her hands and knees with her skirthiked up over her hips, while Tim Myers - himself no older thanDennis - fucked in and out of her from behind. Tim grunted as hefrantically pistoned his hips back and forth, sliding his cock inand out of her warm pussy. Stacy, her head down and facecurtained by her free-flowing blonde hair, was also making smallgrunting noises as she moved her ass in time with his thrusts,squirming and wiggling as she did so. Dennis's mouth dropped open as he watched. He couldn'tbelieve what he was seeing! He pushed forward a bit to get abetter view, but accidentally bumped against the doorframe. Atonce, Tim stopped moving and looked over at him, his face redwith shock and embarrassment. Stacy looked back over her shoulderat the thirteen-year old, shaking her face free of her hair. "No!" She sounded strange and anxious. "Don't stop." Shewiggled her hips hopefully around his still-sheathed cock."Please... keep going," she begged. She crouched back, trying toimpale herself further on his rapidly deflating cock. Tim didn't move. "B-but..." Unable to speak, he gesturedtowards Dennis, who stood frozen in the doorway. Stacy's headturned towards him and she peered up at him from beneath thecurtain of hair. At first she looked as shocked and upset as Tim,but she quickly recovered. "Come in, Dennis," she invited, her voice a hoarse whisper."J-Join the fun." This last sentence ended with a quiet squeal asTim began moving again. Dennis didn't need to be told twice.Carefully closing the door behind him, the teenager walked slowlyforward, uncertain of what to do next. Stacy gestured at him tocome closer as Tim's thrusts regained their earlier rhythm, ifsomewhat lacking in their former urgency. The surprise at beingcaught had obviously set him back a bit on the path to orgasm. When Dennis was standing in front of her, Stacy reached upand pulled down the zipper on his pants. She quickly slipped hispenis out and, without another word, began kissing and lickingit. Within minutes, it was as hard as a pole; Stacy engulfed itwith her mouth and began sucking for all she was worth, her lipssliding up and down in time with Tim's regular thrusts into herpussy. Plugged at both ends, she gasped and moaned as the twoboys pumped their rigid cocks in and out of her body. Eventually, the Tim and Dennis came, more or less at thesame time. Tim pumped his sperm into Stacy's warm, wet pussy fromthe rear, while Dennis ejaculated into her mouth and down herrapidly convulsing throat. She swallowed every drop before thepenis fell loose, making certain that no evidence of herbehaviour would remain on her clothing or face. Behind her, Timbegan to laugh.

*****

Later that same evening, Stacy had phoned Gary and, asrequired, gave him the details of her sexual activities. He hadaccepted the information as usual, but had some additional newsfor her. "Sharon talked to Tami today," he told her. "She knows whathappened last Saturday with you and Toby." "W-what do you mean? I already told you what h-happened."Stacy felt sick to her stomach. What had she done wrong? Werethen going to release the pictures after all? "Your paperboy 'lover' never came inside of you. Accordingto Tami, he couldn't restrain himself. Is that what happened?" Stacy bit her lip and hesitated. She had not mentioned thatpart of her encounter with Toby out of sheer embarrassment. Shehad been somewhat surprised to discover that she still had somepride left, even after all that had happened - but she couldn'tsee how that mattered. "Y-yes," she answered, finally. "That's what happened." Fuckyou, she thought. "Well then, you know the rules. It doesn't count unless yourpartner ejaculates inside of you. Don't you remember?" Stacy's vision began to blur with tears. She remembered.Gary evidently took her silence as agreement, because hecontinued speaking. "You broke the rules. Not only does Toby notcount, but you now have an extra ten to do, bringing the total upto an even sixty-five." SIXTY-FIVE! "You can't do that," Stacy exclaimed, horrified. Hecouldn't... "I'm sorry; I didn't catch that." Gary sounded amused. "Didyou just tell me that I 'can't' do something?" Stacy bit her lip in an effort to regain control - in aneffort not to tell him what she really thought. Finally, shemastered her emotions enough to answer him. "No. I didn't." Her voice shook. "You can do whatever youl-like." "Right. Well, after fucking the two kiddies today, yourtotal was up to eight, but it goes back down to seven after wesubtract Toby. That leaves fifty-eight to go, right?" He seemed to expect an answer. "Right," she agreed, hervoice trembling. "Fifty-eight." Fifty-eight! Involuntarily, shelooked down at her wrist where the charm bracelet anchored thefour metal "F"s to her wrist. Fifty-eight. "We'll get the new 'charms' to you tomorrow. Oh, and oneother thing," Gary continued. "Tami is Sharon's friend, and sheis apparently quite upset about what happened. Sharon wants youto apologise." "Apologise?!?" "She's asked Toby and Tami to meet her at the playing fieldan hour before school on Monday. She wants you there to apologisefor trying to seduce Toby, and promise never to try it again." The line fell silent as Stacy struggled to comprehend toenormity of the humiliation she was going to be forced to sufferthe following morning. "Do you understand?" Stacy took a ragged breath and then answered in theaffirmative. "Yes." "Good. Well... that's all then. Pleasant dreams." He hung upthe phone. Stacy slammed the receiver down, ran across her room andthrew herself down on the bed in pain and anguish. In fury, sheslammed her fists repeatedly into the unresisting mattress andpillow, causing the charm bracelet - unimpressed by her displayof temper - to jingle quietly as the small, metallic "F"s flashedsilver on her wrist.

--

NUMBER NINE: Randy Marx stared down in disbelief as Stacy Richards suckedhungrily on his cock as it jutted out of his pants; her mouthmade loud slurping noises as it worked its way up and down. Hewas standing in the woods behind Greenwood High, just out ofsight of the main school building. Stacy, now on her knees infront of him, had met him after class and had asked if he wouldgo with her into the woods; she wanted to show him something, shehad said. Randy, who like most of the boys at school only knewStacy as an object of unattainable beauty, had stammeredsomething in the affirmative, and the two of them had left theschool together after the final class. As soon as they had gone alittle ways into the forest, just out of sight of the school,Stacy had turned to him, reached down and begun fondling hispenis through his pants. Randy, frozen with surprise, had justwatched in stunned silence as she sank to her knees in front ofhim. The charm bracelet on her wrist jingled quietly as shefumbled with his zipper. "W-what are you doing?" What was she doing? "P-please, Randy." She had looked up at him with her big,green eyes. "I... I want your cock." Her voice was a hoarsewhisper, and she looked like she might cry. Randy couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stared downat her, as if seeing her for the first time. "What?" "I w-want your... cock," she repeated haltingly. Her fingerscontinued their work while she spoke. His penis was now free ofhis pants and hung down in front of Stacy's face. "I want to suck your cock." She turned her head back downand began licking his quickly hardening penis. Randy just swallowed and fell silent as Stacy got to work.He looked around, frightened of getting caught, but there was noone in sight. His gaze dropped downward, where Stacy wasservicing his cock. First she licked and kissed it, startingwith the head and then working her soft, warm lips down theshaft. Then, when it was rigid (no time at all, really), sheslipped her hot mouth over the shiny head and began sucking, allthe while bobbing her head up and down. From where he looked downon her, Randy could only see her blonde hair sliding back andforth, but he could hear the slurping and gurgling sounds whichaccompanied the movement, and he could feel - oh god, how hecould feel - the inside of her mouth and throat as it quiveredand sucked around his trembling penis. Finally, he could take it no more, and began to come.Instinctively, he grabbed the back of her head and pulled ittight against his crotch, jamming his cock right down into herthroat as the sperm began to shoot out. Stacy struggled andchoked; her hands fluttered about wildly, pushing against hislegs, but she was unable to break his grip. Stacy's face remainedcrushed against his crotch, her mouth and throat stuffed withcock, until he finished coming. Eventually, the spurts began tolessen, and his penis grew soft. Randy relaxed his hold, and shepushed herself away, gasping and choking up the sperm. Suddenlyembarrassed, Randy did up his pants, turned and ran away into thewoods. Behind him, Stacy lay on the ground, still choking up spermand gasping for breath.

*******

The Greenwood school cafeteria was its usual noisy chaos,with students running madly about, trying to fit in as mucheating and socializing before the bell went off to announce theinevitable beginning of the afternoon classes. The main sectionof the cafeteria was filled with rows of connected benches andtables, where the students ate their lunches. The actual kitchenand serving area was located along one of the walls; the studentspicked up a tray at one end, and ran it along a metal track whilemaking their selections. The food was paid for at the other endand a short section of railing led to the main part of the room. Karen Williamson stood, tray in hand, looking for a place tosit. Her options were limited; the sitting areas were essentiallyrun by the various school cliques, and Karen absolutely did notbelong to any particular group. As a matter of fact, she wascommonly the object of derision of many of these groups. It wasnot that she was particularly ugly, although she was a bit on theheavy side and had something of an acne problem, or that she wasantisocial. Her isolation stemmed from a discussion in one oflast year's Social Studies classes. In a "Current Events" module,the class had been discussing some recent controversiesconcerning homosexual rights. Karen had been arguing in supportof those rights and had, in the heat of the debate, let slip thefact that she herself was gay. Word had quickly spread, andbefore long she was virtually an outcast at Greenwood. She hadquickly learned that if one is going to come out of the closet, ahigh-school class is just not the place to do it. Her life hadbeen hell ever since. Desperately lonely, Karen had hoped that things would haveblown over by this, her senior, year, but that hadn't proved tobe the case. In fact, the abuse had even gotten worse. Just lastweek, she had found her locker plastered with pictures of nakedwomen torn from a Penthouse magazine with the words "DykesAnonymous" scrawled all over them. As a result of these andsimilar events, Karen had largely withdrawn from school sociallife, and now spent much of her time alone, often drinking (anactivity which had helped neither her weight nor her acneproblem). In fact, she had been drinking the previous night, andwas now suffering from rather a bad hangover; this probablyexplained her lapse in judgment in choosing and sitting down at atable near the back of the room. Even before the table fell ominously silent, she knew thatshe had made a mistake. A bad one. She looked up from her tray tosee who she was sitting with. Across from her sat Stacy Richardsand Ashley Peters, easily the two most popular girls in school.The rest of the now-silent table was filled with students of anequally exalted social level. "Well!" Ashley took the lead, as she always did in makingfun of Karen. "Aren't we lucky. A visit from the school dyke!"Karen flinched as Ashley's cutting voice drew attention. Theother students at the table were smiling and laughing, knowingwhat was coming. "What's wrong? No other dykes to eat with... or eat?"Ashley's voice was getting louder. Students at nearby tables werenow looking over and joining in the laughter. Her face burning,Karen stumbled to her feet and fled the table, leaving her trayof food behind. "Come back anytime," Ashley called after her. "Feel free tobring your girlfriend." The entire section the cafeteria waslaughing now, as Karen, now in tears, burst through the exit anddisappeared from view. At a table near the door, Gary and Sharon watched her runout. Silently, they exchanged glances and looked over at Ashleyas she laughed with her friends. Stacy laughed right along withthem. *******

Tim smirked across the room at Dennis; the class was almostover. The two thirteen year-old boys had barely been able torestrain themselves during that afternoon's Recreation Class. Dueto the colder weather, the class was once again taking placeinside the gymnasium, and they had spent the entire periodwatching Stacy as she supervised the other students. At thisparticular moment, she was demonstrating volleyball techniques toa group of girls in the corner. She was wearing baggy shortswhich came down to her knees and a loose sweatshirt, but that didnot deter the boys from imagining what was underneath. So far,she had managed to avoid them, but Tim had plans to deal withthat. Finally, the bell rang, signalling the end of class. "OK, everybody," Stacy yelled, clapping her hands forattention. "Into the dressing rooms. That's it for today." Whilethe rest of the kids ran into the dressing rooms as directed, Timand Dennis jogged over to where Stacy was bent over, putting awayequipment. She straightened up as they approached. "Yes?" She asked coldly. "What do you want?" She didn't seemhappy to see them. Embarrassed, Dennis turned to go, but Tim caught his armbefore he could get away. "That's not very friendly," he stated."You were a lot nicer last week." He was smirking again. "That was last week," Stacy told him angrily. "Don't expectit to happen again." She put her hands on her hips and glared atthem. "I don't expect to hear about it again from either of you.Is that understood?" Dennis flushed red and began to mutter an apology, but wascut off by Tim. "OK, you won't hear about it from us, then," he told her."You'll be hearing about it from Mr. Tilby, though." The thirteen year-old grabbed his friend by the arm andturned to go. "Wait!" Stacy, no longer confident, called after them. Mr.Tilby was the teacher in charge of the grade 12 supervisors."What do you mean?" She had a sick feeling that she already knewthe answer. Tim turned and faced her. "We're going to tell Mr. Tilbywhat happened. I bet he'll be interested." Stacy felt her face flush with panic; Tilby would get herexpelled for sure! "Unless..." Tim's voice was sly. "Unless?" Stacy knew what was coming. Unconsciously, shecrossed her wrists in front of her and began fiddling with hercharm bracelet. There were now almost a dozen metal "F"s hangingfrom it. "Unless you become a lot more friendly," Tim finished offhis sentence. "Like last week." Stacy looked at the two of them - Tim looking cocky and sureof himself and Dennis looking both frightened and hopeful - andshuddered. If she gave in, she would become in effect the privatewhore of a couple of thirteen year-olds. But what else could shedo? "If I agree," she said slowly, fighting back the tears,"you'll keep quiet about it. No one else will know." Maybe shecould minimize the damage. Tim grinned in triumph; they had her! "OK. It'll be our little secret." A slow smile began to formon Dennis's freckled face. "And just this once," she bargained. "After that, I don'thear about it again?" Tim began to nod, flushed with success and ready to agree toanything, but this time it was Dennis who did the interrupting."Once a week," he told her. "After class on Fridays." Stacy'smouth fell open and she shook her head. "OK." Dennis shrugged and turned to Tim. "Let's see Tilby." He started walking, pulling an astonished Tim behind him.This time, the two boys actually managed to get a few steps awaybefore Stacy called them back. Trembling, she agreed to theirdemands; there was no way she could let them go to Tilby. Ten minutes later, she was stretched out naked on a pile ofstored gym mats, with Dennis pumping his thirteen year-old cockin and out of her pussy while Tim waited his turn. The two boyshad wanted her naked this time, and she had had no choice but toslip out of the shorts and sweatshirt. She grunted in time withDennis's thrusts and moaned as he mauled her tits, but did notfight or cry out as he spurted within her. She did, however, start crying when Tim crawled on top ofher to take his turn at sticking his cock into her now soppingpussy.

*******

With the footlights shining bright and hot directly upwardsinto her face, the men in the audience - she instinctively knewthat they were men - were visible only as vague outlines; darkshapes and shadows which seemed to shift and pulse in time withthe thick bass throb of the cheap rock music. She could hear thequiet rumble of conversation from beyond the lights, but as thedance began, the shapes fell silent. They almost appeared to leanforward towards the stage, focusing intensely upon the actions ofthe dancer. On the precarious, well-lit catwalk, the dancer slidforward, limbs writhing in time with the music. She wore almostnothing: a pair of stiletto high-heels, black stockings, aspangled, gold g-string and a pair of tassled pasties coveringher nipples. And a bright, shiny charm bracelet on one wrist. Hertits, small and firm, bobbed up and down as she gyrated back andforth across the small stage. The music drew her forward; bit by bit, piece by piece, theminimal clothing came off until, finally, she stood naked andexposed before the watchers. The shapeless mass of the audiencewas no longer silent, but was instead calling out what seemed tobe a name, over and over again. Dimly, the dancer sensed that sheshould be frightened, but she wasn't. Instead, she began tobecome more and more excited. Rubbing her breasts with one hand,she began to pant and moan as the shouting grew louder. Thecolored lights above her began to move... rotating wildly...pulsing on and off. Her pussy was damp and inviting when sheinserted first her middle finger, and then middle three fingers. Her excitement grew to the point of orgasm; the name chantedby the audience became louder and louder... Suddenly, there was aloud ringing sound, again and again as the lights sped up. Shetried to ignore it, concentrating on the swiftly approachingorgasm, but it kept ringing and ringing... the hoarse chantingbecame clearer until, abruptly, she could make out the name: "Stacy!" Stacy Richards sat bolt upright in bed, sweaty anddishevelled. Her mother's voice had shouted out her name from thebottom of the stairs. "Stacy. Answer your phone." The phone beside the bed was ringing. Stacy glanced over atthe bedside clock: almost 10:30 - a bit early to be calling on aSaturday. She reached over and picked up the phone. "Hi Stace." It was Sharon. Of course. Stacy fought back an urge to slam down the phone. "What doyou want?" she asked, fighting to contain her anger. "Just to tell you that we're going out tonight; girl's nightout." Sharon sounded pleased with herself. "What are you talking about?" Stacy fought to clear her headof the last vestiges of sleep. "There's a party at BCN tonight," Sharon explained. "We'regoing." BCN stood for Bakersville College North. At the time thecampus was opened, there was a planned second campus to be builtsouth of the town, but that had never occurred. The one collegewas still, however, called "North". "I can't do that," Stacy argued, fighting down a suddensurge of panic. "I'm... uhm... busy tonight." "Do I have to make threats?" Sharon asked. "You know whatyour options are. Besides, you might enjoy yourself." Stacy sighed with resignation. She knew very well that shewould have to agree with whatever Sharon said. If not, she wouldbe ruined at Greenwood. "OK," she muttered. "I'll be there." "Fine." Sharon was matter of fact; she had expected nothingelse. "Come to my place at 7:00. Oh... we'll be out all night;tell your mother that you'll be spending the night at a friend'shouse." The line went dead as Sharon hung up before Stacy couldreply or protest. Slowly, Stacy put the receiver down and ran a shaky handthrough her matted hair. Only then did she notice that her bodywas covered with a sheen of sweat. The dream! She pushed back thecovers and looked down on her body: her nipples were firm anderect and her pussy was slightly damp. Could that dream reallyhave been exciting her? All she remembered was being naked... andall those men were watching! She placed a finger on her clit andbegan to rub, moaning softly. Just the memory of the dream wasexciting! What was happening to her? Despite her confusion, shecontinued to masturbate herself, quickly bringing herself toclimax. Just as the orgasm died away, the phone rang again. Shepicked it up. "Hello?" It was Barry Packard. Just what she needed. She hadnoticed that he was trying to talk to her at school, but she hadmanaged to avoid him successfully ever since they had fucked acouple of weeks ago in the front seat of his car. "Hi Stacy," he greeted her. She remained silent. "Uhm... I was just wondering if you wanted to... like, youknow... go out tonight, or something." "Are you kidding," she laughed. "I wouldn't be caught deadwith a loser like you." All of her frustration and anger at whathad happened to her in the last couple of weeks flowed out of herheart and down the phone lines. "B-but... I thought... what about what happened on..." "What happened in your car was a joke," she told him."You've got to be the worst fuck I've ever had." It felt a littlestrange talking like that, but on the whole, it was good to be onthe giving end of some abuse rather than on the receiving end.Besides, he was such a loser! "B-but..." "I don't want to hear about it, and I don't want to see orhear from you again. Just fuck off!" Stacy slammed down the phone. That had felt good! Almostlike her old self. Cheered up, she got out of bed and went intothe bathroom for a shower.

*********

As ordered, Stacy arrived at Sharon's house promptly at 7:00that evening. Sharon's mother, a large, bleary-eyed womananswered the door. "Is Sharon here?" Stacy asked timidly. The woman smelt ofbeer and stale cigarette smoke. The woman took a drag from her cigarette and gestured Stacyinside. Stacy walked into the house. "Sharon!" Sharon's mom was yelling down a flight of stairs."Your little friend's here." She turned back to Stacy. "Go righton down. She's in her room." Stacy smiled weakly in thanks and walked down the stairsinto the basement. "In here." Sharon's voice came from behind a closed door atone end of a short hall. Stacy pushed the door open and enteredSharon's bedroom. The pudgy girl was talking on the phone; shewaved at Stacy to come in and sit down. "... Yes... I know. At the agreed price. I know... uh huh...it's just for private use. Nothing else." Stacy sat on the edgeof Sharon's bed, careful not to disturb a pile of dirty clothing."No, that's fine. Yeah... as long as they don't mind... OK."Sharon hung up the phone and turned to Stacy. "Well," she said, smirking, "let's have a look at you. Standup." Blushing, Stacy stood up. She was wearing a blue skirt whichfell below her knees and a yellow blouse. Her blonde hair wasdone up in a tight, little bun at the back of her head. Sharonshook her head as she looked the older girl over. "Huh," shegrunted. "That's not gonna do." She got up and moved towards thecloset. "Let's try these on." She pulled out a duffel bag andhanded it to Stacy. Stacy took one look inside and dropped the bag. "I can'twear these. Not in public." Sharon just smiled and lit a cigarette. "Every time," she rolled hereyes theatrically. "Every timewe go through this same game. First you say you can't dosomething. Then we threaten to release the tape and the pictures.Then, suddenly, you can do it." She looked over at Stacy. "Is allthat really necessary?" Stacy looked down at the duffel bag and began to tremble.She fought back the tears. "Please..." How could they do this to her? Sharon wasn't moved. "Put these on, you bitch," she ordered, suddenly angry."You'll wear them tonight or by Monday night everyone in townwill know what a slut you are." The videotape! Reluctantly, Stacy reached down and picked up the duffelbag.

Ten minutes later, she was changed and ready to go. Thecentral item of her new apparel was a black, patent leatherskirt, which reached only halfway down her thighs. The tightskirt was fastened by a zipper on the side. ('For easy access,'Sharon had commented.) On top, she now wore a bright pink spandexshirt. The sleeveless blouse hugged her upper body tightly,making the most of her smallish breasts. On her feet, she woreblack leather, high-heeled boots, which covered her lower legsright up to her knees. Thin nylon stockings completed theensemble. As well, Sharon had combed out her blonde hair, so thatit fell in waves across her now bare shoulders. A little extramake-up (applied by Sharon) and she looked like "a proper littlewhore" (in Sharon's opinion). Stacy fought to hold back the tears. She did feel like awhore in this outfit.

The two girls drove up to the College in Stacy's car, butwith Sharon at the wheel. When they arrived, the party wasalready in full swing, with music blasting raucously out ofpartially opened windows. It was located in a large, old house,which served as rental accommodation for students at BCN. Sharonparked the car on the street opposite the house and looked overat Stacy. The older girl sat stiffly, looking straight ahead, herarms crossed in front of her chest. "You're not going to have much fun with that attitude,"Sharon chided. "You're too tense." Stacy didn't answer. Sharonsighed theatrically and reached into her large purse. "Here," she said, pulling out a small thermos. "Have adrink. It'll relax you." She poured a small measure of whiskyinto the thermos lid and passed it over to Stacy. The older girllooked doubtful for a moment, sniffing suspiciously at theliquid, but then shrugged her shoulders and drank it down. Whatharm could it do? Almost immediately, she felt the warmth of thealcohol in her stomach. "One more?" Sharon asked. Stacy nodded quickly and held outthe cup for a second drink. Sharon poured, and Stacy once againdowned it. She felt much better already. Sharon smiled as she took the cup back and screwed it backonto the thermos. This was the same stuff that Gary had mixedthat had got Stacy so hot that night at Neil's. With any luck, itshould make things go a lot better tonight, particularly with adouble dose. "Let's go." Sharon opened the door and got out of the car. Stacyfollowed, moving a little slower on the high heels. The drink wasbeginning to go to her head a bit, she noticed. She felt a littleunsteady. The two girls walked up the gravel driveway towards thehouse. Even from outside, the loud pulsing music madeconversation difficult; the whole building seemed to shake withit. Sharon banged loudly on the door. Nothing. She banged again,harder this time. A few moments later, a young man opened it andpeered drunkenly outward. "Yeah?" His eyes quickly skimmed over Sharon, and came torest on Stacy's scantily clad body. Stacy shivered, only partlyfrom the cold as the man slowly looked her up and down. He likedhis lips. "Is Jim in?" Sharon was forced to yell over the music. "Tellhim Sharon is here." The man at the door tore his eyes away fromStacy long enough to acknowledge Sharon's words with a nod, andthen disappeared back into the house. Sharon turned to Stacy who was still shivering on the porch."Remember," she said urgently. "This is a college party. Don'tstart acting like a fucking kid. I have everything undercontrol." Stacy started to ask what she meant by this, but the doorswung open and another man came out. This guy was huge; he lookedlike a football player. "Sharon," he called out. "Good to see you." His eyes turned,inevitably, towards Stacy. "And you must be Stacy. Sharon's toldus a lot about you." Stacy knew that this sounded ominous, buther brain was fogged up from the alcohol, and the drugs Gary hadadded to it were starting to have an effect: her senses seemedheightened, but her consciousness was starting to drift. A smallpart of her mind recognized this feeling from that first night atNeil's house, but she was unable to act on this knowledge. Thelarge man - Jim? - gestured for them to enter the house. Sharonpushed Stacy through the door in front of her and then enteredherself. Behind them, the door slammed shut.

Inside, the painfully loud music drowned out any possibilityof conversation. The foyer led to a short stairway which in turnopened up into the main living room of the house. This room waspacked with sweating, dancing people, almost exclusively studentsfrom BCN. The air was heavy with smoke, tobacco and other types. Jim led the way through the crowd, pushing and shoving apath through the drunken, jostling crowd. Sharon pulled Stacyalong by the arm, following in his wake. Stacy got a lot ofattention from the men in the room, and one guy even reached outto squeeze her tits as they pressed through the tangle. Shesquirmed away, and he was soon lost in the crush. To Stacy'sblurred perceptions, the trip across the crowded room was anightmare passage of smoke and noise, with the occasional leeringface thrust out at her through the haze. She was thankful whenthey reached the comparative quiet of the kitchen, but this toowas fairly crowded, and Jim continued leading them along. Theypassed through the kitchen, down a short hallway and, finally, toa closed door. Jim halted in front of that door and looked back at Sharon. "Everything OK?" he asked, glancing at Stacy. Stacy lookedaround wildly, beginning to panic. What was happening here? Sharon pulled her head down and whispered into her ear."These are my friends," she hissed. "Keep them happy. If you'resmart, you'll relax and enjoy it. Fuck up, and..." Sharon lookedup and smiled at Jim. "Fine," she told him. "She's all ready. She loves this sortof thing. She's really hot." Stacy started to mumble a protest, but before she could formthe words, Jim had opened the door and Sharon had pushed her intothe room. Jim followed her in, closing the door behind him. Left alone in the hall, Sharon leaned against the door andpulled out a cigarette. She'd give them a few minutes to getgoing and then head in herself. She reached down and patted thebulk of the video camera in her purse. She didn't want to missany of the action.

Stacy's memories of that night in the room consisted almostentirely of a series of unconnected images and sensations, as ifher conscious mind had shut itself off, acknowledging sensationsonly when they became too strong to shut out. The room had been full of men, many of them as big as Jim.There was a large bed in the middle of the room. The men hadcheered as she had stumbled inside, and Stacy had immediatelybeen picked up and thrown down onto the bed. She tried tostruggle, but it seemed as if her limbs seemed so heavy... Jim was first. He pulled up the zipper on her skirt and tore it off. Whileshe had wriggled and tried to squirm away, he had pulled the pinktop up over her breasts, leaving it bunched up under her chin.Stacy had moaned and cried as he began mauling her tits, buteverything seemed so far away. The next thing she knew, he wasinside her, impossibly big! She groaned as he pumped in and out,first with pain, but then with something else. Her stretched cuntbegan to tingle, and a warm feeling spread out through herstomach and up into her breasts, causing her nipples to hardenand become ultra-sensitive. She fought the sensations, but it wasa losing battle. As he continued to thrust in and out, she slipped her armsaround his neck and crushed her face to his. Momentarilysurprised, he began to kiss back, and their tongues entwinedfrantically. A few moments later, she threw back her head andscreamed as she was overtaken by an intense orgasm. The first ofmany that night. He came a few seconds later, pumping sperm intoher wet pussy. After that first orgasm, everything became a blur...

...another man was on top of her now, pumping in and out.His cock making a squelching sound in her wet pussy. She tried tokiss him, wanting to feel his tongue on hers, but a second manslipped his cock into her panting mouth. She fondled her ownbreasts with one hand while holding onto the second man's cock asit slid in and out of her mouth...

...the room seemed awfully bright all of a sudden, butbefore her mind cold explore this thought, the cock in her mouthbegan to spurt jism. Greedily, she sucked at it as fast as shecould, but some sperm spilt out over her face. She was scrapingit up with her fingers and stuffing it into her mouth when asecond cock slid in. She moaned and began to massage it with heraching tongue...

...she was on her hands and knees now, her arms wrappedaround a pair of legs and her mouth wrapped around a thick cock.Behind her, a man finished coming and pulled out. She whined andwiggled her bottom, desperate for more cock. She felt man kneeldown behind her, but instead of putting his cock into her pussy,he thrust it suddenly into her virgin asshole. She squealed andtried to move away, but a pair of hands in her hair kept her facefirmly impaled on a cock. Eventually, however, the pain went away, and a new kind ofwarmth spread through her. She came twice before the cock in herasshole started to spray sperm up her ass...

...she lay on her back, her legs spread wide and bentupwards over her head. A man lay on top of her, pumpingfrantically. His mouth was wide open, and a thin line of droolspilt out and fell onto her face. She opened her mouth to receiveit...

...she lay in between two men, impaled upon their cocks. Oneman, the one beneath her, had his cock up her pussy, and the oneon top was thrusting in and out of her asshole. The combinedsensations sent her into a flurry of loud orgasms. A third cockwas stuffed into her panting mouth...

Blackness... Stacy jerked suddenly awake as cold water splashed in herface. She was lying on her back on a warm, sticky mattress.Sharon stood over her with an empty cup. "Rise and shine," she said brightly. "It's time to go."Sharon left the room and walked into an adjoining bathroom. Groaning, Stacy tried to sit up. The sheets stuck to herback as she pulled herself vertical. Her body was covered withbruises and scrapes, and her pussy and asshole ached as if theyhad been scraped raw. Abruptly, she began to wail as the memoriesof the previous hours' activities began to return. Sharon foundher trembling on the bed a few minutes later when she returnedwith Stacy's clothes. "None of that," she admonished. "I know you had a good timetonight. Don't start complaining now." She threw the clothing atStacy. "Get dressed. We're going." Still trembling, Stacy disentangled her battered body fromthe sticky sheets. Her entire front was coated with a crust ofdried sperm. Slowly, she pulled the leather skirt on and zippedit up. The pink shirt was ripped across the stomach, but she justslipped it over her head and pulled it down. The boots went onlast. Shakily, she straightened up, and was led by Sharon throughthe house and out the front door. The living room was now almostdeserted, inhabited only by a handful of couples sleepingtogether on the various couches. The two girls made it unobservedto Stacy's car. Sharon started the car, and they drove off.

Stacy finally managed to stop shaking. Sharon glanced over at her as she drove. "That's better.There were only eight of them. Not much for a slut like you." Stacy looked over in disbelief. "E-eight?" The charmbracelet jingled as she brought her hand up to her mouth. Shefelt like she was going to be sick. "That's right," Sharon answered. "The offensive line of theBCN Barracudas." The football team. Stacy leaned back and closed her eyes. "Eight more down, Iguess," she mumbled. Sharon laughed. "Nope. Those ones don't count for our littlegame. They weren't students at Greenwood." Stacy sat up and looked over, unable to stop the tearsflowing down her face. "T-then why?" "I needed the money," Sharon answered simply. "They paid mefifty bucks each." At this, Stacy began to wail and sob inearnest. "Don't worry," Sharon comforted, deliberatelymisunderstanding. "You'll get some of it. I'll cut you in for tenpercent."

Stacy's tears had dried by the time the car reached Sharon'shouse. Reminding the older girl that she was staying the night,Sharon led her downstairs to her bedroom. "You'll be sleeping on the couch," she announced. Stacy,exhausted, stumbled over and collapsed onto the small couch.Chuckling, Sharon walked over and stuffed forty dollars down thetop of Stacy's shirt. "There you are," she whispered, running her fingers throughStacy's sperm-encrusted hair. "There's your ten percent. Goodjob." Stacy fell asleep crying, curled up on Sharon's couch...

--

"Cool." Neil leaned forward and watched intently as Stacy,completely naked, was simultaneously fucked by two men: one frombehind as she knelt "doggie style" on all fours with her legsslightly spread, and one from the front. At first, her face hadbeen hidden from the camera by her blonde hair, which fell inwaves over her right shoulder, but Sharon had slowly circled theaction and, after a brief shot of the back of some guy's sweatyass moving back and forth, began to film from the other side,where Stacy's features could be seen clearly. Her left handclutched the base of the guy's cock as she bobbed hercum-splattered face up and down. The charm bracelet, festoonedwith shiny, silver "F"s, glittered merrily in the light. Therewas a brief break in this movement as she pulled her mouth freeand teased the head of the cock with her tongue, but then herlips re-encircled the penis, and her head resumed the up-downmovement. Her loud moans and grunts could be easily heard abovethe rhythmic slurping sounds; she was clearly enjoying herself. The camera moved on; it continued panning, sliding steadilydown Stacy's glistening, sweaty body and focusing on her ass asit wiggled about on the impaling cock like a fish caught on ahook. Just as the settled on this shot, the guy fucking her frombehind stiffened and came. A few seconds later, he pulled out,leaving a thin trail of white sperm dribbling down Stacy's leg.The camera pulled back and then zoomed in on her ass and pussy -both glistening and wet with cum - and held the shot as anotherfellow moved into position and inserted his cock, this time intoher ass rather than the pussy. The soundtrack clearly recorded asqueal of pleasure from the impaled teenager, as Stacy acceptedthe cock and began grinding her ass back and forth on it. "Jeez, this is great stuff." Neil was more than a little impressed. He hadn't even knownthat anything of this nature was going on. Indeed, he had felt amomentary twinge of anger when Gary had told him what Sharon hadarranged for Stacy - he had felt a bit left out lately, as Garyand Sharon more and more seemed to be taking charge with Stacy -but he couldn't remain angry. He was not so stupid that he failedto realize that this whole arrangement was only possible becauseGary had seen the possibilities that day in English class. If ithad been left to Neil, he would probably have blurted out hisaccusations in front of the class, and that would have been theend of it. Instead, they now had a hold on Stacy that let themforce her to do anything! How could he complain about Gary beingin charge? On screen, Stacy was taking advantage of the fact that hermouth was temporarily empty of cock, and was busily lickingstrands of sperm from her fingers. Neil turned to Gary and Sharonwho were sitting together on the couch behind him. "She's really into it," he commented enthusiastically. "Didyou use the drugs?" "Yeah," Sharon answered. "A double dose this time. As youcan see, it worked like a charm." The sound of Stacy's screams from the TV indicated animpending orgasm. "She was really hot." The teenagers fell silent and watched as Stacy experienced aviolent orgasm, her fourth since the beginning of the tape. "We made four hundred bucks," Sharon continued after Stacy'sscreams had died away. "And the football team wants her backagain next weekend." "Are you gonna make her go?" Neil turned away from the couchas he asked the question, his eyes focusing on the screen whereStacy moaned and fondled her small breasts. Behind him, Sharon looked at Gary, leaving the decision tohim. "I don't think so," he answered. "At least not right away.We don't want to burn her out. Let's leave it for somethingspecial. We are selling them this tape though; they're payinganother hundred bucks for it." "That's five hundred bucks." Neil tore his attention awayfrom the screen. "A lot of money." He looked up at Gary. "Don't worry," his friend answered, smiling his strangesmile. "You'll get a share. Sharon gave forty dollars to Stacy,so that leaves $460 to split three ways." Neil raised his eyebrows. "Forty dollars to Stacy?" "Well," Sharon laughed, "she deserved something. She did allthe work." The three friends laughed and went back to watching thevideo. It was coming to the end now, and Stacy was beingsimultaneously fucked by three guys, one in the ass, one in hercunt and one in her mouth. She moaned and wriggled as her bodywas filled with cock from three different angles. Finally, thethree cocks came, each spurting sperm into its particular orificeas Stacy orgasmed twice more. The video faded to black as Stacy,wet and crusty with cum, curled up on the damp, sticky mattress,still moaning and sucking the sperm from her fingers. "That was great!" Neil leaned forward and shut of thetelevision. "Just like being there." "Well, I hope the guys on the football team are happy withit. They're paying for it." Sharon stopped the video and pushedthe rewind button on the remote. The tape began to whirlbackwards in the video machine. Neil got to his feet and began to pace. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "we could make a lot moremoney out of this if we wanted. I bet there are people who wouldpay big bucks for this tape; I mean besides the guys from thecollege." "Not this tape," Gary answered. "It's just for the guys atBCN. The last thing we need is the bloody college football teamcoming after us. But I have given that some thought." Sharon looked over at him, surprised. This was the firstthat she had heard of it. "What do you mean?" "I mean," he told her, "why not make a little money sellingsome pictures?" "Like the video?" Neil asked. "No. I don't think that we can put together a professionalenough product for that. This tape was OK as a souvenir for theguys at the college, but we have no way of editing it or anythingelse. I mean still pictures." He looked over at Sharon. "You'reuncle let you use his studio last year, right?" Sharon nodded her agreement, beginning to understand what hewas getting at. Her uncle did portrait photography, and had astudio near the centre of town. Last year, he had allowed her touse the studio and darkroom for her photography class project. Hehad told her that she could use it any time she wanted. "So, with the studio and darkroom..." "We can take professional shots!" Neil completed thesentence. "It's fuckin' perfect." "But what about selling them?" Sharon was sceptical. Therewas more to this than just taking the pictures. "I've been communicating with some photographers over aBBS," Gary told her. Neil looked confused. "BBS?" Gary ignored him. "I expect I can get some contacts throughthem. Or at least some addresses. I'm sure there are lots ofmagazines which would pay good money for pictures of someone likeStacy." "And what do we tell Stacy?" Sharon was still sceptical. "Wetold her we'd keep this all a secret if she played along." Sharonwas more curious than concerned. Their promise to Stacy meantnothing to her. "No." Gary smiled."We told her that we wouldn't release thetapes of her cheating on the English exam and fucking with Neil.We said nothing about any pictures we might take in the future.Besides, we won't be selling these pictures to mainstreammagazines. I doubt anyone in town will see them. Including Stacy.Probably." "Well... OK." Sharon was convinced. "I'll set it up with myuncle for later this week." "Fuckin A!" Neil was excited. "I can't wait."

*****

NUMBER FOURTEEN Stacy's short skirt was once again bunched up around herwaist. Her sleek legs were spread wide, and wrapped around thebulky form of Bob Pearson as he pistoned his cock brutally in andout of her dry pussy. They were in one of the supply rooms atGreenwood; Stacy's ass was propped up on a narrow shelf and herback was against the wall as Barry fucked her. In vain, she triedto re-discover some of the excitement of the previous weekend upat BCN. Her responses that night had been more than a littledegrading, but at least she had been able to deal with the sexwithout this pain; perhaps even get a little enjoyment out of it. No matter how hard she tried, however, she was unable tofeel anything other than the intense pain of the ordeal, asBarry's large cock sawed in and out of her raw pussy. 'Please,' she thought wearily as he panted and grunted hislust, 'please come!' Just let it be over.

*****

As instructed, Stacy showed up at the photography studio at8:00 PM two nights later. The mid-December weather was unusuallycold, and she was wearing a heavy denim jacket over her jeans andsweater. She was, however, carrying a duffel bag which containedsome clothing of a less practical nature. Sharon had orderedStacy to bring along various items of apparel, such as underwear,stockings, short skirts and, in particular, a couple of swimsuitsfrom last year's swim team. Stacy had been apprehensive, but shewas now pretty much past the stage of arguing or pleading. Itnever did any good. All that mattered was that she reach numbersixty-five before the end of the year. She had managed numberfifteen earlier that day (her pussy still ached); only fifty moreto go! At her wrist, the rapidly filling charm bracelet attestedto her "success". The studio itself was basically a large, high-ceilingedsingle room with a cloth backdrop against the rear wall. Thebackdrop was a neutral white, designed to take on the hue ofwhatever colored light was being directed at it. There was a longmetal bar on the ceiling which held a number of different lightsset there for this purpose. The floor in front of the backdropwas covered by a dark mat. In front of this mat was another bankof lights, not colored, and a camera. At the back of the room wasa wooden door with a red light hanging above it; a small signidentified it as the darkroom. "Stacy." Gary walked up to her as she stood by the door, put his armover her shoulder, and directed her into the room. Stacyshuddered slightly at his touch, but allowed herself to be led.Sharon, standing behind the camera, looked over and smirked.There was a belch from the back of the room; Stacy looked overand saw Neil, sitting back against the wall with his feet proppedup on a small table and a beer in his hand. He grinned over ather and raised the beer can in mock greeting. Behind her, thedoor to the studio clicked shut. Sharon made a small adjustment to the camera, and thenwalked over to where Gary had begun emptying out the contents ofStacy's duffel bag onto the floor. "Let's see what we've got," she muttered, sorting throughthe clothes. Stacy watched, numb and frightened, as Sharon andGary sorted through the various items of apparel, rejecting someand laughing at others. "Don't forget this stuff." Neil had left his seat and wasapproaching with another bag, the contents of which he dumpedonto the floor beside Stacy's clothes. It contained a number ofleather and rubber outfits, including, Stacy noted queasily, theoutfit she had worn up at BCN last weekend. She swallowed,fighting to keep her features impassive; she had resolved not tolet them see her cry again. Finally, they were done. Gary looked up at her. "You know what's going on?" He gestured towards the camera. Stacy nodded reluctantly. "Yes," she answered. It hadn't been difficult to figure out.She had cried in her bedroom when Gary had ordered her to show upat the photography studio with the clothing, but she wasn't goingto cry now. She wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. Gary grinned. "Then let's get started." He turned to hisgirlfriend. "Sharon?" "Yeah, OK," Sharon nodded, "but let's give her a drinkfirst. It's going to be hot under those lights." Stacy looked up. Huh? Sharon picked up an open can of coke from a nearby table andhanded it to her. "Drink up," she instructed. "We don't want youfainting on the set. We've got lots of stuff to get throughtonight." Confused, Stacy did as ordered; she drank the coke andhanding the empty can back to the impatiently waiting Sharon. The other girl nodded and took the bottle. "OK," she announced, "I think we'll start with..."

Stacy spent the next few hours in front of the lights,running through countless degrading poses in dozens of differentoutfits. Humiliatingly, they started her out with some of her ownclothes which she had brought: mini-skirt, blouse and high heels. "Look at the camera." The colored lights placed her in front of a soft, yellowbackdrop. As instructed, Stacy looked at the camera. "Lean forward... legs apart." She bent down and spread her legs, causing the skirt to rideup. Her blonde hair, combed out straight, hung down over her leftshoulder, framing her breasts for the camera. Behind the bank oflights, her three tormentors were only shadowed silhouettes.Stacy was reminded of her dreams of stripping in front of suchlights. "Open the blouse... now cup your breasts and look sexy. Keeplooking up; we want to see your face." Her hands trembled as they undid the buttons. She had knownit would come to this, but it was still so hard; particularly infront of the camera. She cupped her small breasts in her hands,involuntarily teasing her own nipples. They hardened immediately.Would they notice? "That's it. Nice nipples. Now, lick your lips..." Stacy wetted her lips and did her best to look sexy andinviting. Her nipples stayed hard. "Bend over a bit more... let's see some more leg..."

Then they dressed her in one of her old swimsuits, now atleast one size too small: "That's right... other way, now..." Stacy stood, side on to the camera. They had soaked the suitbefore dressing her in it, and it clung tenaciously to everycurve. Worse, the cold water caused her nipples to become hardagain, and it was plainly visible through the thin swimsuit. "Shoulders back... good, that pushes out your tits... playwith the nipples, make them nice and hard... there you go..." Stacy flushed red. "OK... now run your hand through your hair... look like youneed a good fuck..." Stacy did as ordered. She slid her fingers through herblonde hair, shaking it out at the back as she did so. She wasbeginning to feel a queer sort of arousal in the pit of herstomach. She fought to hide it, but it was difficult to do whiletrying to look sexy.

Then came the outfit she had worn for the party at BCN. Itquickly became apparent to Stacy that they had not cleaned itsince that night; it stank of dried sweat and sperm. This time, Sharon put on some music, and had Stacy dance aslow striptease. Neil called encouragement as Stacy slowlydivested herself of first the cum-encrusted shirt, and then thetight leather skirt. And, just like in her dream, she became more and morearoused...

A short break to re-load the camera while Stacy stood,panting slightly, in front of the lights. She was naked from theprevious stripping, save only for the leather, high-heeled boots.Neil came over and played with her sweaty tits until it was timefor a new outfit. Stacy fought hard not to respond...

Finally, it was over. Stacy stood, drained and sweaty in the last outfit she hadmodelled, a tight, pink rubber dress which left bare as much asit concealed. It was cut low on her neckline, leaving her chestbare down to the upper curve of her tits (at one point in thesession, she had been ordered to pop her tits out of the dress,but they were re-covered now). The dress also left her armsexposed up to the shoulder, and only covered her upper thighsdown to just below her crotch. Her legs were clearly displayed,taut and sleek in the black pumps. Sharon had done her hair up in a tight bun, giving her a severe, sexy look. Neil slipped behind her, reached around and began playingwith her breasts through the thin rubber as Gary and Sharonclicked off the lights and began storing the film. Involuntarily, Stacymoaned, but didn't pull away. Her nipples hardened and atrickle of sweat dribbled down between her breasts as theystrained against the latex. Neil began kissing her neck. Gary looked over and smiled. Stacy's eyes were closed andher mouth slightly parted as she leaned back to accept Neil'sattentions. Her body was clearly beginning to respond. Thisseemed like a good time to bring up... "Oh, Stacy." Stacy opened up her eyes and stiffened,remembering where she was. "I heard that Barry Packard asked you out last a littlewhile ago and you refused. Is that true?" Stacy bit her lip apprehensively, but nodded. She recognizedthe tone of voice Gary was using; something bad was going tohappen. Behind her, Neil reached down with one hand and beganmassaging her pussy through the latex dress. The other handcontinued to fondle her tits. Subconsciously, she began to squirmback against him. "Well," Gary continued, "from now on, there'll no more ofthat. If one of your 'lovers' wants a re-match, you agree to it." "What?!" Stacy tried to move forward, but Neil held hertight. "What are you talking about?" Neil popped one of herbreasts out from the dress and began teasing the nipple. Stacytried to ignore it. "That wasn't a rule." "It's a new rule," Sharon told her, grinning. "From now on,once a guy's fucked you, you can't say 'no' to him until you'vefinished all sixty-five." Stacy's features began to quiver. She had resolved not tocry, but this was too much. A tear trickled down her cheek as sheconsidered the implications of what was being said. "B-but... there'll be no end of it. I'll have to do it allthe time." Her mind, now cloudy with lust, struggled to findobjections. "When am I supposed to study or do other things? There areexams coming up!" Sharon laughed outright at that. Stacy had just been toldthat she had to agree to fuck almost any guy that asked, and shewas complaining about not being able to study for exams! "Don't worry about the exams," Gary told her. "We'll get youthe test papers ahead of time. Hell, we'll even do it for freethis time." The three of them laughed as Stacy began to cry inearnest. "Besides," Gary continued, "it's not all bad news. We'vedecided to let you earn some pocket money while you're doing it." "What?" "From now on, you charge five bucks for a repeat fuck." Stacy looked at him in horror. "The first one's free, but repeat service costs five bucks."He looked over at Neil. "Except," he continued, "for Neil, ofcourse. He gets it for free." If possible, Stacy's sobs became louder. No matter how badthings became, they always managed to make them a little worse.Or a lot worse! Gary and Sharon continued packing up as Neil slipped hishand under the short dress and began to play with her pussydirectly. Stacy shuddered and then relaxed back into his chest,defeated. There was no use resisting it. She began to pant asNeil pushed his middle finger into her now-moist cunt. When Gary and Sharon finally left the room, she was sittingon top of Neil's erection, riding it up and down, the pink dressbunched up around her waist.

*******

Stacy was slumped forward on the desk. Her head was cradledsideways in her arms, spilling blonde hair in waves out over thewooden desktop. Outside the closed office door, the grade eightstudents she was supposed to be supervising were yelling andrunning about, her usually well-structured Recreation coursehaving dissolved into chaos in her absence. She didn't care. She was too tired to care. She hadn't evenchanged into her usual gym outfit for the class, instead juststumbling around the gymnasium in her green tweed dress, barelygetting the class started before retreating to the office. Shejust didn't care anymore. Last night she had attended Ashley's Christmas party and, inthe course of the evening, had managed to have sex with fourdifferent guys: two blowjobs and two fucks. Actually, it had beenfive guys, but one of them had turned out not to be a student atGreenwood, and Stacy no longer counted the non-students. Thatbrought her total up to twenty: twenty different guys, and twentyshiny "F"s on her imprisoned wrist. Only forty-five more to go.Only! Her pussy ached at the thought. As was happening so often these days, Stacy found herselffighting back the urge to cry. How had she fallen into this trap?How had such a little thing as cheating on a math test led herinto the kind of life she was now leading? Looking back, shecould see how Gary - it must have been Gary; Neil wasn't anywherenear smart or subtle enough to plan this sort of thing - hadslowly escalated the incidents of blackmail and humiliation untilall her options had disappeared. Even now, if it had just beenthe original session at Neil's, she might be tempted to rebel -perhaps even turn to the police - but Gary had since then takenit even further. Now, there were the pictures taken at thephotography studio and the awful video-tape of that night at BCN,where Sharon had turned her into a whore! Sharon had shown thetape to her the day after the photo session. How could anyonebelieve her story after seeing her enjoying herself so much? Shecould barely believe it herself. What had happened to her? Sexwas usually so degrading and painful; why had it felt so good?Still, whatever the reason, there was no way out; no one wouldbelieve her now. So, she took the path of least resistance, and did what theywanted. It had been three days since the session at the photographystudio, and she was unable to get it out of her mind. It was notjust the fact that the pictures had been taken. That was terribleenough, and she was thoroughly frightened about what would bedone with the resulting photographs. Gary had told her that theywere just for "personal use" (whatever that meant), but how couldshe trust him? It was not just the fact that she could no longerrefuse to have sex with the guys she had already fucked; that wasbad, but she thought she could control matters so that very fewof them invited her out again. As long as it was kept quiet, itshouldn't be too much of a problem. It was not even the sex withNeil; he had fucked her a number of times already, and it wasgetting to be almost routine. What frightened her about the session in the studio was theway she had responded to the situation, and, later, to Neil. Bythe time he had pushed up her dress and forced her to impaleherself upon his rigid cock, she had been so excited that she hadexperienced an orgasm within seconds of penetration. In thefucking that followed, she had cum twice more, moaning andsquirming like some kind of slut-bitch on Neil's cock. As was the case with the session at BCN, she was not surehow she felt about this. On one hand, she was being forced to dohorribly degrading things and it was as if her own body wasbetraying her by allowing her to respond sexually. What kind ofgirl - what kind of a slut - would enjoy the kind of obsceneactivity which had occurred at BCN? On the other hand, it lookedvery much like she had very little choice in the matter. She wastrapped, and would have to fuck countless guys in the next fewmonths. Given that this was going to happen anyway, wouldn't itbe better to get at least some enjoyment out of it? If nothingelse, she could do without the constant pain of her pussy beingrubbed raw as a result of her being dry at the wrong time. What she needed was some way to control the excitement. Someway to allow her to do what she had to do with a minimum of pain,but which would allow her to control herself so that hersurrender would not be complete. Some way to... Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door.She glanced at her watch and saw that it was after 3:15; classwas over. She patted down her green tweed dress and shook herblonde hair, unconsciously adjusting her appearance. That mustbe... It was. The door swung open to reveal a grinning Tim,followed closely by Dennis. Stacy groaned, but gestured for themto enter the office for their weekly session. There must be some better way to deal with this!

*******

Ashley Peters stood, giggling, in a cluster of friends in adoorway near the water fountain. The girls were pulling a nastypractical joke, and were waiting for the victim to arrive. Evenamong this group, basically the most popular (ie. beautiful)girls at Greenwood, Ashley stood out as something special. Shewas taller than any of the other girls, but still well-rounded inall of the important places, particularly her breasts. Indeed,the only other girl at school that was in her league was StacyRichards, but while Stacy was small and perfectly proportioned,Ashley was big-boned and extremely well endowed, particularly foran eighteen year-old. Where Stacy had a finely chiselled face andhigh cheek bones, Ashley's face was wide and generous, withthick, pouty lips and wide brown eyes. Where Stacy had shoulderlength blonde hair, Ashley was a brunette, with a thick,reddish-brown mane of hair that fell halfway down her back. Inshort, Stacy's was a hard, athletic beauty, while Ashley wassofter and more luxurious: equally beautiful, but in an entirelydifferent manner. The two girls were, of course, rivals, but only in arelaxed, friendly way. There was simply no need for them tocompete, for boys or otherwise. The only real point of contentionwas the title of Homecoming Queen, and Ashley had - more or less- conceded it to Stacy the previous year. Stacy's schoolactivities, from cheerleading to the track and swim team tosupervising the grade eight "Rec" class, made her almost certainto take the title instead of Ashley, whose list of schoolactivities was somewhat shorter (or, in truth, non-existent).Life was too short, she figured. So, the two girls ruled overtheir little clique in a co-operative fashion, acknowledging theother's attributes without conceding superiority. Ashley noticed Stacy coming out of a doorway at the otherend of the hall, followed by a couple of grade eight jerks. Shelooked a little dishevelled, but Ashley put it down to theactivity of the "Rec" class. "Stacy," Ashley called after her, eager to have her share inthe joke, but Stacy didn't seem to hear, and moved down the hallaway from the group. The two boys followed close behind. Ashleynarrowed her eyes as she watched her friend turn a corner anddisappear from view. Stacy had been acting a little strangelately. She wondered if... "She's coming!" Stephanie, who had been watching around the corner,whispered the warning and stepped back, out of sight. Ashleydropped Stacy from her mind and joined the group as they watchedexpectantly. They didn't have long to wait. Karen Williamson walked,unsuspecting, around the corner and up to her locker. The heavy,dark-haired girl didn't notice Ashley's group as they watchedfrom the doorway. The trap was sprung! As she pulled the lockerdoor open, hundreds of sheets of paper slid out and onto thefloor in front of, and around, the locker. Each sheet had beencarefully torn from various Playboy and other,similar, magazines,depicting beautiful women in some stage of undress. Karenwatched, stunned, as more and more paper fell out of her locker.Ashley and her group could contain themselves no longer, andfinally broke out into raucous laughter as more and more peoplein the hallway stopped and stared. As well as putting the loosesheets in the locker, they had pasted up a number of pictures onthe door and walls of Karen's locker. The people in the hallwaybegan to laugh as Karen turned red, and then began to cry with embarrassment. Satisfied with the damage, Ashley led her group away fromthe scene of their victory as more and more people joined thecrowd of students laughing at and taunting their unfortunatevictim as she crawled around on her hands and knees trying torecover the pictures.

If they had stayed a little longer, they might have noticedSharon Stevens, who had watched the whole incident develop, walkup to the humiliated Karen and start talking to her in a hushedvoice. Karen quickly stopped crying and began to listen intently.

--

Karen ran her fingers through her curly brown hair andlooked around the bedroom, feeling useless and out of place withnothing to do. Neil and Gary were busily removing a shelf fromthe second, smaller closet while Sharon wandered about the roomwith a light meter, alternately taking readings and makingadjustments on the video camera set up on a tripod in the maincloset (no need to remove any shelves there). Even Stacy was hardat work, albeit reluctantly; she was taking, trip by trip, thesmall mountain of clothing which had previously filled thesmaller closet and carrying it to a different room. She was quietand sullen, but she did what she was told. It was all so unbelievable! Even after Sharon had told hereverything - even after they had showed her all of those pictures- Karen still found it hard to credit the story. Stacy, thePrincess of Greenwood, the perfect Ice-Queen Bitch, being forcedto fuck dozens of different guys at school in order to keepsecret the fact that she was cheating on exams! If Karen had readit in a story (and she had read a few stories of this type), shewould still have found it difficult to swallow. Really, though,it had been the pictures that had finally convinced her. AfterSharon had talked to her that day in school when Ashley and herfriends had stuffed Karen's locker with those magazine pictures,Gary had shown her the set of photographs taken earlier in theweek at a downtown studio. There was no way that Stacy would dosomething like that willingly, particularly the last two outfits.The sight of Stacy in (and then out of) the black leathermini-skirt and, later, in the pink latex dress had left Karendamp with excitement, despite the fact that Stacy wasn't hertype. No, not her type at all. Karen preferred larger girls;particularly brunettes. Girls like Ashley. When they had arrived at Stacy's house that Saturdaymorning, the week after New Year's, Karen had been expectingStacy to slam the door in their faces. Even after all the proofshe had been shown, she had still expected that. It hadn'thappened, though. Stacy had opened the door and let them inwithout a word. She looked angry, and more than a little bitunhappy, but she let them in. Still, it wasn't until Neil put hishand behind Stacy's neck and drew her in for a long, protractedkiss that Karen at last fully accepted everything that she hadbeen told. Stacy didn't exactly co-operate, but she didn't pullaway either. And from the way her mouth was working, she wasdefinitely returning the kiss. Unbelievable! Yet it washappening. And if that was happening, perhaps Sharon's plan forAshley might work as well. Karen trembled as a small shiver ofexcitement shot through her pudgy body. Her type. Girls like Ashley...

Neil removed the last screw and handed it to Gary whocarefully put it in his pocket. The final shelf slid out neatly,leaving the bottom half of the closet completely open. (Theshelves on the top half were more permanently affixed.) There wasjust enough space for one person if they sat down with their legscurled up. That was going to be Sharon's post. Neil was thankfulabout that. There was no way he was going to spend several hoursin that cramped space. He was going to be in the bigger closetwith Gary and Karen. There was really no need for him to bethere, as Gary had pointed out, but he wanted to be part ofthings again. He wanted to see Stacy in action...

Sharon looked critically through the camera's viewfinder.The angle wasn't the best in the world - it wasn't even as goodas it had been in Neil's bedroom - but it would have to do. Aslong as the light was OK, the pictures should turn out alright.From where she would be sitting in the small closet, she couldget pictures of the bed and most of the bedroom, but she was alittle low to get the best angle for any action on the bed. Andthe action on the bed, of course, was the whole point of thesearrangements. As well, she was forced to take the picturesthrough the slats in the closet door. It worked fairly well aslong as she kept the camera flush against the door, but itlimited her options. It would also force her to lean forwarduncomfortably when taking pictures. It was, however, the best they could do, and there was stillthe video camera in the walk-in closet. Perhaps if Stacy'sparents had left the night before as planned they would have hadtime to make further modifications to Stacy's bedroom, but theparents had delayed their departure until mid-morning onSaturday. Hence, The three friends had only had a couple of hoursSaturday morning until Ashley was to arrive. Not the best ofcircumstances in which to accomplish so tricky an objective, butthings weren't going too badly. Now, as long as nothing else went wrong...

Gary finished giving his final instructions to Stacy andgave her one final look. She appeared quite stunning in her shortskirt and pink blouse, her blonde hair combed in waves over oneshoulder. Sharon had both chosen the outfit and done up the hair,treating Stacy like some big barbie doll to be dressed andgroomed at will. Stacy looked great and Gary approved; if thatdidn't work, nothing would. A quick glance around the bedroomrevealed nothing out of place. Sharon was safely out of sight inthe small closet, and Neil and Karen were sitting side by side inthe back of the walk-in. A quick check in the upstairs bathroomreveal that Karen's "props" were in place. Everything was ready. Right on cue, the doorbell rang downstairs. Gary lookedStacy in the eye. "Showtime," he told her, smiling at the hint of panic in hereyes. "You know what to do." Stacy swallowed nervously, but nodded her agreement. Sheknew what to do; it had been made very clear to her. Garygestured for her to answer the door. When she left the bedroom,he turned and squeezed past the video camera and into the closet,pulling the door shut behind him...

Stacy stopped momentarily on her way down the stairs toanswer the doorbell and took a deep breath; she needed to steadyher nerves. Of all the things they had forced her to do in thelast couple of months, this was quite possibly the mostdifficult. As first, she had absolutely refused. Even when Sharonhad made all the usual threats, Stacy would not go through withit. She had to draw the line somewhere. But when Gary had offeredher ten credits - ten less guys to fuck - she had wavered andfinally given in. She would do what they wanted. Ten less guys tofuck! That would be worth it. That would be worth almostanything. And besides, what did she owe Ashley anyway? Stacy was jarred from her thoughts by the sound of thedoorbell being rung a second and then a third time in quicksuccession. "Coming," she cried, annoyed, as she quickly jumped down theremaining stairs. Despite her irritation and nervousness, sheforced a welcoming smile onto her face as she pull open the door. "Ashley," she greeted her friend from school. "Come in." Ashley accepted the invitation, walking in through thedoorway. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a pink sweaterunder an expensive leather jacket. (Her parents were rich, andshe always had the best clothes.) Her long, dark hair was done upinto a large bun on the back of her head. A large leather pursewas slung over her shoulder. The two girls exchanged greetings asthey walked upstairs to Stacy's room. Their meeting wasostensibly to put together some arrangements for a class projectin the spring term, but neither expected much work to be done.Particularly since Stacy's parents were out of town for theweekend and Ashley was staying the night. Stacy led her friend into her bedroom, and the two girlsflopped down into comfortable positions - Stacy on the bed andAshley onto a large floor cushion - and began to talk. Thediscussion at first centred around the recent holidays, andAshley told several funny stories about some visiting relativesfrom back east. As usual, her stories were humorous at someoneelse's expense, and she soon moved onto various people they bothknew at school. Soon, as usually happened, the talk zeroed in onAshley's unfavourable views on several of those people. Stacy letAshley carry the conversation, but talked just enough so that herfriend would not suspect that something was wrong. Just as Garyhad promised her a significant reward for success, he hadlikewise made dire warnings regarding the consequences offailure. Stacy was desperate to succeed. After about an hour, Stacy decided that the time had come toset things in motion. "Want something to drink?" she asked, knowing the answer.Ashley was staying the night; that would almost certainly meanthat the girls would get drunk on the contents of Stacy'sfather's liquor cabinet. Ashley, in particular, enjoyed theexpensive brand of scotch whisky Stacy's father favoured. Asexpected, Ashley answered in the affirmative, and Stacy left theroom to get the alcohol.

Sharon sat up as best she could in the cramped confines ofthe closet when she heard Stacy offer Ashley a drink. This waswhat they had been waiting for. Gary had liberally laced Stacy'sfather's scotch with his now usual mixture of drugs. With anyluck, things should be underway before long. And not a moment toosoon; Sharon's legs were beginning to cramp under her. She checked the settings on her camera...

Stacy bit her lip with apprehension as Ashley took a sipfrom the tumbler. Would she notice anything different about thetaste? The moment passed without incident, and Stacy sighed withrelief, taking a sip of her own drink. Of course, why wouldAshley notice anything? Stacy herself had twice been drugged inthis manner - she now realized - and she had never noticed athing. The alcohol effectively masked the taste of the drugs.Stacy took another sip of her drink, willingly subjecting herselfto the effects of Gary's drugs - she would need all the help shecould get - and the two girls continued their conversation. By the end of the next hour, both girls were feeling thecombined affects of the alcohol and the mixture of drugsdissolved within the alcohol. For Stacy, it was now almost afamiliar experience; the slight drowsiness, the sense ofdislocation and the increased sensitivity - she had felt it allbefore. Ashley, on the other hand, had never previouslyexperienced the effects of these particular drugs. Hence, she putthe strange feelings down to the effect of alcohol on an emptystomach (she hadn't eaten lunch). In a way, it felt kind ofpleasant, kind of like drifting, but with a sensual warmth downdeep in her stomach. "Another drink?" Stacy got up and took Ashley's now emptyglass. Ashley started to answer (in the affirmative), but beforeshe could say anything, Stacy had hurried out of the room, noteven waiting for an answer. Normally, Ashley might have foundthis behaviour extremely puzzling - it was usually Ashley whoinstigated and encouraged the drinking - but her powers ofperception were somewhat blurred. She got up to stretch her legsand walked over to the window. It was getting quite hot in thebedroom, she noticed, perhaps she should open a window. Shereached up and... "What are you doing?" Stacy had returned with the twoglasses and the bottle of scotch. "I'm just g-going to open the window," Ashley answered,stammering slightly in an effort to enunciate the words. Thescotch was really affecting her. She took a deep breath. "It'shot in here." Her upper lip was damp with perspiration. "I know," Stacy agreed. She put the glasses down on thetable and poured two more stiff drinks. "But you can't open thewindow." She too was being careful not to slur her words. "My dadgets pissed off about wasted heat during the winter." She crossedthe room and handed the full glass to Ashley. "He's kinda weirdabout stuff like that." She shrugged her shouldersapologetically. "But, it's fucking hot in here," Ashley whined, acceptingthe glass. "I'm, like, melting." She swallowed a large mouthfulof scotch. Stacy appeared to think for a moment, and then put down herglass and began unbuttoning her blouse. "Take your sweater off then." In a moment, she was strippeddown to her bra. Ashley hesitated for a second, but then put thedrink down on a side table and slipped her pink sweater up overher head, exposing large breasts barely constrained by a bra. Shepulled the sweater free of her head and shook loose her hair(partly destroying carefully constructed bun on the back of herhead) just in time to see Stacy unclip and remove her bra. "Stacy!" Ashley was a little embarrassed. They had seen each othernaked often enough before and after gym class at school, but notlike this. It seemed different, somehow, to be standing nakedlike this in Stacy's bedroom, slightly drunk. Still... it wasquite hot... and the bra strap got more than a little itchy whenshe sweated... Why not? Shrugging her shoulders, Ashley followedsuit, slipping the straps of her bra off her shoulders andunfastening the bra, revealing her own breasts. Gary peered intently through the slats on the closet door asAshley's large, firm breasts popped free of confinement and intoview. Impressed, he brought his still camera up and snapped aquick shot, making certain that Stacy, also topless, was in thepicture. It was almost time to start running the video camera. Ashe took the picture, he felt a gentle shove from behind. "Let me see," Neil whispered, trying to look over Gary'sshoulder and around the tripod. Gary pushed him back, frowning.He brought a finger up to his lips, gesturing angrily forsilence. Did Neil want to fuck it up for everyone? Gary pointedtowards the floor of the closet, where Karen sat in patientsilence. Neil looked like he wanted to argue the point, but gavein and sat down, sulking. Gary turned back to the action in the bedroom.

"Here, I'll put that away." Stacy reached over for thesweater and bra, "accidentally" brushing the back of her handacross Ashley's tits. Ashley flinched slightly, but handed overthe clothing without comment. She watched as her friend hung themon a hook on the back of the door. "Thanks." "No problem." Stacy padded back across the room towards thetall brunette. She crossed in front of her - once again brushingagainst Ashley's breasts - and picked up her friend's glass."Here's your drink." As Stacy walked across the room, Ashley couldn't help butnotice how sleek and fit Stacy looked. Secretly, Ashley wishedthat she had that kind of body - thin, muscular thighs, tightstomach and smallish, firm breasts. Ashley, on the other hand,was more lush in form, although her large breasts were firmenough to stand up on their own without the aid of a bra. Sheknew she was beautiful - indeed, she took if for granted - butshe still admired her friend's physique. If only... She was surprised to find her nipples hardening as shewatched Stacy. Suddenly embarrassed and shy, she turned away andcrossed her arms in front of her breasts, taking a large sip ofthe scotch. She quickly regained her composure, and the twogirls, now topless, resumed their former positions and continuedthe conversation. They carried on talking for another half houror so, with the conversation becoming more and more disjointed asthe drugs took their affect. Eventually, Stacy asked Ashley tobring the now half-empty bottle to her on the bed. Ashleycomplied, moving carefully in order to compensate for the lack ofco-ordination brought about by the alcohol, but when she triedto move away after handing over the bottle, Stacy gestured forher to lie down beside her on the bed. "What?" Ashley's head was spinning slightly. "Just lie down," Stacy told her soothingly. "Relax. I thinkthe booze is hitting us harder than we expected." Ashley couldn't argue with that. They were only on theirfourth drink (or was it the fifth?), and she was feeling acurious dislocation, almost like she was looking at eventsthrough a long tunnel - as if her mind was somehow dislocatedfrom her body. At the same time, however, her nerves seemedheightened and more sensitive and there was a curious tingle inthe base of her stomach. Better lie down, she thought, andallowed Stacy to help her down on the bed. Stacy's hands feltcool and dry against her hot skin. They felt good. That's better,she told herself, stretching out with her arms by her sides. Bynow, her bun had become unfastened, and her long, brown hairspread out on the pillow behind her head. She closed her eyes andrelaxed. A few seconds later, however, she felt a movement on the bedbeside her. Opening her eyes, she noticed that Stacy was halfsitting up, looking down at her with a funny expression on herface. Ashley, suddenly worried, tried to sit up, but Stacy puther hands on her friend's shoulders and pushed her back down."Relax," she murmured, almost whispering. "Just lie there." Herstrong hands began to rub Ashley's naked shoulders. After amoment, Ashley complied, lying back and enjoying the sensation ofhaving her shoulders massaged. It felt so good... It felt even better a few seconds later, as Stacy slowlymoved her hands downward across the top of Ashley's chest andthen down onto her breasts. Ashley instinctively tensed and triedto jerk away, but once again Stacy calmed her down with a fewwhispered words. Ashley relaxed again, closing her eyes, as Stacygently rubbed her large breasts, paying particular attention toher now-hard nipples. Showtime! Gary had clicked the "play" button on the video camera assoon as Stacy had begun fondling Ashley's shoulders. Things weregetting hot out there! After checking the viewfinder to makecertain nothing was being missed, he lifted the still camera andbegan snapping shots as Stacy moved her hands downward towardsAshley's tits. With any luck, Sharon was also getting some good materialfrom her place in the small closet.

Eventually, Ashley began to moan quietly with pleasure. Themoans grew louder as she felt a new sensation on her nowultra-sensitive nipples. She opened her eyes to see that Stacyhad bent over her and was licking her nipples with a small, pinktongue which darted in and out of her mouth. Fully aroused,Ashley brought up her hands and began to run her fingers throughStacy's blonde hair; her beautiful blonde hair. Her hands stayedthere as Stacy slowly licked her way up along Ashley's throatand, finally, to her face. After a brief moment of hesitation,the two girls kissed each other full on the lips. The kiss seemedto last a long, glorious lifetime, as their tongues entwined,broke free and then joined again. Both girls were panting by the time their lips parted...

This was great! Sharon snapped a close-up of the two girls' first kiss. Itcouldn't have been any better if they had been posing for thecamera. Hell, she was getting hot just watching the action!

"S-Stacy..." Ashley moaned. "I..." Stacy silenced her with another kiss. Once again, the kisswas a long one, as they explored each other's mouths with theirtongues. Stacy resumed fondling Ashley's big tits. Whimperingwith pleasure, Ashley reciprocated, running the palms of hersweaty hands up and down over Stacy's pert breasts. The two girlscontinued kissing and fondling each other for a while beforeStacy broke away. "W-what is it?" Ashley asked breathlessly as Stacy sat up. "Just a second," her friend answered her. "This is going tobe so good." Stacy slipped off the bed wearing only her skirt andlooked over at Ashley lying spread out on the mattress. Herfriend's hair was in disarray, spread messily over the pillow.Ashley's large breasts were covered with a thin sheen of sweatwhich glistened in the light as they rose and fell in time withher hurried breathing, the nipples standing firm on top. In spiteof herself - in spite of everything she knew was going to happen- Stacy was becoming very excited. In the back of her mind, shewas aware of the presence of Gary and Sharon and their cameras,but the drugs obscured that knowledge. The only thing that wasimportant was Ashley lying exposed on the mattress, and all thewonderful things they were going to do with each other! Butfirst, she had to... "Take off your pants," she ordered, her voice thick withlust. "I'll be right back." She moved quickly out of the room. Ashley complied, quickly slipping her jeans down her longlegs and kicking them free of her ankles and off of the bed.After a moment's hesitation, she repeated this action with herpanties. Except for her white socks, she was now totally naked.Anxiously awaiting Stacy's return, she moved her hand down overher sweaty breasts and onto her moist cunt. Moaning slightly, sherubbed her finger over her pussy.

Gary zoomed in on her with the video camera as shemasturbated herself. After a close-up of her pussy, he panned thecamera up her sweat-glistening body to her vacant, pantingface...

Stacy returned a few moments later with a small containerand a hand mirror. She stopped in the doorway to watch Ashleymasturbate for a few moments, but then walked forward and leanedover her squirming friend. Ashley, keeping one hand on her pussy,reached up invitingly, but Stacy shook her head. "Just a second,"she said. "Let's do this first." Frustrated, Ashley stopped masturbating and sat up as Stacyopened the container and spilled some white powder onto themirror. Her pulse sped up as she realized what Stacy was doing.Ashley had smoked some pot and hash at school parties, but,contrary to press reports about drug abuse in schools, cocainewas still very rare. She had seen it once before, but neveractually tried it. The thought of it made her nervous. "Stacy..." "Just try it," Stacy interrupted. "It'll make the sex amillion times better." As if demonstrating, Stacy pulled out a narrow tube andinhaled a line of coke up one nostril. After sniffing for a fewseconds, she repeated the action with the other nostril. Ashleywatched, impressed in spite of herself. She had no idea thatStacy was so experienced! "Here." Stacy handed over the tube. "You try." Sharon took a picture of Stacy with the cocaine, and thenwaited expectantly for Ashley to do the same. The cocaine hadbeen Karen's idea; a perfect way to strengthen their hold on thetwo girls! After a brief hesitation, Ashley accepted the tube and triedto inhale the coke. Her first attempt was a bit of a failure, anda good portion of the coke ended up on her upper lip. The secondtry went better, and the drug blasted its way into the back ofher head. "Wow..." She began to feel the rush as Stacy leaned forward andlicked the spilled cocaine off Ashley's lip. This struck the twogirls as very exciting, and they began to take turns spillingsmall amounts of cocaine on each other's bodies and then lickingit off.

Gary reached down and began massaging his raging erectionthrough his jeans as he filmed the action on the bed. This wasgoing much better than he had expected. Maybe this video wouldhave some commercial value! Behind him, he could feel Neil tryingto look around him again. This time he just squeezed to one side- keeping an eye on the viewfinder - and let Neil take a look. Itseemed unlikely that the writhing girls on the bed would noticeany small noises they were making in the closet.

Eventually, this game degenerated into straightforward sex.First, it was Ashley, lying back on the bed with Stacy's faceburied in her crotch. The sensation of her friend's tongue on herclit sent Ashley into a wave of screaming orgasms that seemed tolast forever. Then she was returning the favour, bunching upStacy's short skirt around her waist and kneeling in front ofStacy's widely spread legs, her tongue flickering in and out ofher friend's sopping cunt. This was followed by more fondling andkissing as each girl, now sweaty and panting ran their hands andtongue frantically over each other's body. Finally, they ended uplying head to tail, simultaneously lapping at each other's cunts.They came together this time, a clutching, writhing mass ofsweaty, panting female flesh. Finally, their lust subsided as the drugs began to worktheir way out of their systems. When Ashley came to her senses,she was lying arm in arm with her smaller friend, exhausted andsticky. She lay there for a few moments, gathering her wits. Gary took one last picture, turned off the video-camera andbegan to move the tripod aside. It was pretty much over now. Timeto come out of the closet...

"S-Stacy..." Ashley stammered, suddenly embarrassed. "Whathappened? What have we..." "Shh." Stacy interrupted, leaning up and giving her a kiss."It's alright." Ashley resisted, pulling away. "It's not alright," sheinsisted. "What if someone finds out? I can't..." "What, " came a new voice from behind her, "if someonealready knows?" Horrified, Ashley whirled around on the bed in time to seeGary emerging from the walk-in closet, camera in hand. "No!!"

By the time Sharon shoved open the closet door with herfoot, straightened out her cramped legs and managed to climbawkwardly to her feet, Gary was pretty much finished explainingthe situation to their horrified victim. Ashley had pulled upStacy's duvet cover to cover her nudity and was listening, wideeyed, while Gary explained her options. As Stacy's had been a fewmonths earlier, they were pretty limited: either do as she wastold, or they would release the video-tape and pictures toeveryone who was interested. Sharon noted that Stacy had made noattempt to cover herself; she just sat, silent and topless, onthe side of the bed, staring straight down at the floor. "Well?" Gary had finished his explanation, and was waiting for ananswer. Sharon noticed that Neil was looking on anxiously; evenhe realized that Ashley could fuck things up for them badly ifshe refused to co-operate. "What's it gonna be?"

Ashley sobbed quietly on the bed. She looked over to herso-called friend sitting beside her, but Stacy refused to look ather. Bitch! It was all her fault! She turned her gaze to Gary,Neil and Sharon as they stood by the side of the bed watching,waiting for her answer - like a pack of vultures. What could she do? If she told them to fuck off, as she verymuch wanted to do, they could ruin her life at Greenwood andprobably in Bakersville as well. The thought of those films andpictures being made public made her want to throw up! The sex wasbad enough, but the drugs might even land her in jail. But thealternative... was it any better? Gary had told her that if sheagreed to do what they wanted, the whole incident would be keptsecret. All she had to do was obey their commands for the rest ofthe year; do whatever they wanted. But what else could she do?She looked up at them, swallowing nervously. Her decision was made. Gary tensed as she began to speak, but he needn't haveworried. "Just for the rest of the school year?" she confirmed, hervoice trembling. "After that, I get the pictures and you leave mealone?" He smirked. They had her! "Sure," he told her. "As soon asschool's over, you get everything, and no one will ever know thishappened." Ashley's face twitched with tension, but she forced thehated words out of her mouth. "OK," she mumbled. "You win. I-I'lldo what you say." Gary's smirk widened to a grin. "Oh... not what we say exactly," he chuckled. "We're givingour rights over you to someone else. A friend." As he said this, Karen walked out of the big closet.Ashley's eyes widened with shock! "No," she almost screamed, cringing under the duvet. "Ididn't agree to that. Not with her!" She began to cry again. Gary was unrelenting. "It's her or we give out thepictures." Ashley began to sob loudly, but after a few momentsshe nodded her assent. She had no choice. Karen licked her full lips and moved forward towards her newtoy, her eyes bright with excitement. Gary looked around at theothers. "C'mon," he said quietly. "Let's leave these two alone. I'msure they have plenty to talk about." Sharon and Neil immediatelybegan walking out of the room. After a moment, Stacy got up andfollowed them out, still clothed only in her short skirt. As they shut the door behind them they heard Karen's voice,low and menacing: "Well, Ashley. First, we'll discuss that 'joke'you played on me last month..." The door began to shut. "Thenmaybe we'll try some of that stuff you and Stacy were doing alittle while ago... just to get started." The door shut on Ashley's sobbing.

Outside, on the main upstairs landing, Gary and Sharonsighed with relief. It had gone better than they had expected.Neil had gone downstairs for a beer when Stacy spoke up. "G-Gary?" He looked over at the half-naked teenager. Shemade no effort to cover herself, but wouldn't look him in theface. Instead, she lowered her eyes submissively. "Yes?" His hand found Sharon's and held on. "That drug you gave us... I want some of it." "Huh?" Gary was puzzled. "That drug that makes me h-horny," Stacy explained,trembling. "I want some of it. It will make it easier for me...you know." She started to cry a little bit. "It h-hurts somuch... sometimes. If I... if I'm... excited..." "Ahh." Gary finally understood. He looked over at Sharon,who smirked back at him. He shrugged his shoulders. "Alright," hetold her, "there's still some left in your dad's scotch. Usethat." "Thanks." Stacy brought her arms up across her chest andstarted to shiver. "But first," Gary continued, smirking "you have to earn it."Stacy looked up, her green eyes wide. "Come here." He and Sharonled her into her parents' bedroom and shut the door behind her.She began to tremble when they started to remove their clothes,but she didn't cry out or protest in any way. She needed that drug.

Neil ran up the stairs two at a time, beer in hand, only tofind the landing empty. "Hello?" He looked around, puzzled. "Where is everybody?" Hewandered along the landing until he came to a door. He opened ita crack and looked in. A bedroom. Inside, he saw Stacy suckingenergetically at Gary's cock as Sharon straddled her head andnecked with Gary. Sharon's thighs tightened and loosened onStacy's head as the blonde teenager sucked for all she was worth. Quietly, Neil closed the door. Obviously they wanted to bealone. He stood there for a moment, took a swig from the beercan, and than walked back to the doorway to Stacy's bedroom. Hecarefully opened it and peered in. He was greeted by the sound ofrhythmic slaps of flesh against flesh as Karen had Ashley, stillnaked, over her knee and was spanking her vigorously. Ashley'slush bottom was bright red and shining from Karen's attentions,and the brunette was crying and sobbing as she squirmed on theother girl's knee. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... please, don't...don't... I'm sorry, I won't... please..." The begging continued until Karen finished the spanking andturned the older girl over, still balancing her on her knees.Still sobbing and babbling apologies, Ashley offered no objectionas Karen cradled her in her arms and began caressing her largebreasts. Neil slowly closed the door. He stood on the landing for a few moments, undecided, andthen shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe there's some football or something on TV," hemuttered, walking slowly back down the stairs.

[8]

NUMBER 34 & 35 The "musicians" of the rock band thrashed away for all theywere worth on the tiny stage of the Greenwood High Schoolgymnasium, but their collective efforts produced nothing morethan a wash of reverberating mush as the over-amplified musicbounced randomly back and forth off the bare, wooden walls of thebox-shaped gym. The kids didn't care, though. They never did. Asusual, they just milled around, boys on one side, girls on theother, with the few couples brave enough to dance bouncingawkwardly up and down - more or less in time with the deep throbof the bass - in the centre of the floor. The walls of the gym were festooned with bright pinkballoons; blue and pink streamers created a curtain over eachdoorway; a number of bowls of pink grapefruit punch (three ofthem now, predictably, spiked with vodka) sat on a long tableagainst one wall; and a large banner proclaiming "HappyValentine's Day" in large pink letters (the "i", of course,dotted with a heart) hung over the stage where the band wasplaying. A typical Valentine's Day dance at Greenwood High. In keeping with the theme, Stacy arrived at the dancewearing pink and blue. She was beautifully decked out in anextremely short pink skirt (no more than four inches below herbum) and a sleeveless, powder blue blouse. This, along with thepink knee-socks and white high-heeled shoes gave her anappealing, little girl look, which was enhanced by the fact thatshe was wearing her hair in a pony tail. The look, however, hadn't been her choice. Very little was,these days. The outfit had been selected by Sharon to create thiseffect. In fact, Sharon was now frequently picking out whichclothes Stacy should wear for specific occasions. Nothing toostartlingly different from Stacy's usual mode of dress, butalways a bit more revealing than Stacy would have chosen on herown. Gradually, over the course of the last couple of months,Sharon had been taking over various aspects of Stacy's life ingeneral. Stacy had objected at first, but Sharon had made theusual threats, and Stacy had inevitably capitulated. As well,Sharon was now able to compel Stacy's obedience by threatening tocut off her supply of Gary's drugs. By now, Stacy was reliantupon Gary's mixture, which allowed her to get excited when havingsex; without it, her enforced promiscuity would have been - andhad been, before the session with Ashley - extremely painful. Shewas becoming, in Sharon's words, "well trained". A well trained slut. As it was, the combination of drugs and scotch allowed herto get at least some enjoyment from the sex, a vital advantagesince she was having it so regularly. As well as the large numberof guys she was still required to fuck to meet her quota ofsixty-five before the end of the year, her blackmailers hadordered her not to refuse repeat business. Every time someone shehad already had sex with asked for more, she had to say yes(provided, of course, that the asker was willing to pay the fivedollars). As a result, she was now fucking and sucking daily,sometimes two, three or even four times. Inevitably, this led toher getting a reputation for putting out, which in turn led moreguys to try to fuck her. On the surface, nothing had changed, andshe still held her position in the school hierarchy, but amongmany if not most of the guys at school, the word was out: StacyRichards was a hot slut, who dropped her panties at the slightestpretext. This was not, strictly speaking, entirely true. In thelast couple of weeks, Stacy had stopped wearing panties (anotherof Sharon's "suggestions"); it was too much trouble getting themon and off, and too many pairs were ruined. Pants were also athing of the past; the new Stacy only wore short skirts. The new Stacy was also looking for a guy to fuck. She stoodin a corner of the gym next to the door leading to the boy'slocker room, playing absently with her heavily decorated charmbracelet (thirty-three bright, shiny "F"s), and scanning thecrowd for a likely candidate. She tried to be inconspicuous asshe looked around; she had already run into one of her previous"partners" in the parking lot, and had been forced, upon hisrequest, to give him a blow-job. A crumpled, sticky five dollarbill in her purse testified to his willingness to pay. If anyothers saw her in here - particularly dressed as she was - shewould probably have to serve them as well. The blow-job had beenmade all the more unpleasant by the fact that she had been unableto drink any of the scotch prepared for her by Gary. Without theexcitement caused by the drugs, it had been a humiliating andpainful event. She was not going to be caught unprepared again.After wiping the sperm off her face (she had been unable toswallow all of it), she had taken a number of swigs from theflask in her purse. Already, she was feeling the warm tingle atthe base of her stomach, and her breathing was becoming quick andshallow. She scanned the crowd, desperate as she became more and moreexcited. Who to fuck?

Gary looked on, smiling as he saw Stacy - dressed up likesome kind of wet dream - call someone over to her. It was PaulBaxter, from grade eleven. A tall guy with glasses and bad skin;kind of quiet. He watched as Stacy pulled him closer andwhispered something in his ear. A few second later, Paul blusheda furious red, but allowed himself to be led into the lockerroom. The couple disappeared from sight. "She's found one already?" Gary turned. Sharon had come upbehind him as he had been watching Stacy at work. The short girlwas holding a glass of punch. She was almost shouting to be heardover the roar of the band. "Yeah," he answered, shouting in reply. "Paul Baxter; fromRhenquist's French class." "Didn't take long," Sharon commented, taking a swallow ofspiked punch. Gary grinned at her. "Not the way you dressed her uptonight. Nice job." Sharon nodded at the compliment, but didn't return the grin.Something was bothering her. "You've made it too easy for her,"she complained. "The drugs make it too much fun. She's enjoyingherself too much." Gary's grin just widened. "Well," he answered, "maybe Ishould let you in on a little secret." He looked around, as ifanyone could hear them over the band. Sharon just stared at him,waiting. "After the first couple of weeks, I stopped putting thedrugs in the scotch. Since the end of January, she's just beendrinking the scotch. Straight." Sharon's eyes widened in surprise. "But... that's two weeksnow. She hasn't said... she didn't..." "Right," Gary interrupted. "That's the beauty of it. Shegets horny now completely on her own. All it takes is a littlescotch, and she's ready to jump into bed with anybody. Soon, I'mgoing to start changing the type of alcohol. By the end of theyear, she'll turn into a slut every time she touches a drop ofalcohol. It's all part of the training." Sharon's surprise turned into amusement. "Gary," shechuckled, "that's perfect." She began to laugh outright. "What's so funny?" It was Neil. He was already half drunk. Gary looked over at the laughing Sharon. "You tell him," hesuggested to her. "I think I'll send a few more guys Stacy's way.I think I see the Schaefer brothers." He turned and walked off as Sharon began to explain to Neilexactly what it was that was so funny.

Frank Schaefer shoved open the swinging door to the lockerroom and ponderously squeezed his bulk through the doorway. Hewas followed closely by his younger brother, Simon. The Schaeferbrothers were both extremely fat - each weighing over 250pounds - and would have been fatter still if they had not beenquite as tall as they were. Still, even at well over six feet,they were each enormously obese. They were a number of yearsolder than the other students at Greenwood, having beenfrequently held back grades while their contemporaries advancedand graduated. Their size was matched only by their stupidity,and they had become something of a joke at Greenwood. Fortunatelyfor them, that same size protected them from any real bullying,and they were generally left alone. That was why they were sosurprised when Gary approached them at the dance and suggestedthat it might be a good idea for them to go into the locker room"to check things out". They had been puzzled at this, but theyfound most things puzzling, so they just shrugged their shouldersand ambled into the locker room. They were greeted by the sound of a female voice as theymoved slowly down the short passageway leading to the mainchanging room. "Oh... yes... yes... yes." The voice was low and hoarse with lust. The Schaefer brothers hurried forward as best they could and peeredaround thecorner into the main part of the room. "Oh yes... fuck me... fuck me..." It was Stacy Richards! The brotherslooked on in amazement.Some guy was lying back on a bench while Stacy Richards - THEStacy Richards - slid up and down on his hard cock. Her shortskirt was pulled up around her waist, and they could clearly seewhere the cock slid in and out of her moist cunt. "Oh... oh... oh..." She had stopped formulating words, and was justpanting andwhimpering as the pace sped up. Stacy's pretty, blue blouse wasundone and she was frantically mauling her own tits. Her chestglistened with sweat as her lithe body bobbed up and down like ayo-yo on the impaling cock. "Holy cow!" Simon, the younger of the two brothers, wasunable to contain himself. Frank swatted him on the back of thehead, but it was too late; the damage was done.

Stacy stopped bouncing and looked up in shock. Someone waswatching! Beneath her, Paul struggled, trying to sit up. Shefought to hold him down - he was just about to come! - but whenhe saw Frank and Simon standing there with their mouths gapingopen, he cursed and scrambled back along the bench. His cockpulled out of Stacy's sopping pussy just before he came, sprayingsperm onto her stomach and legs. "No!" Stacy grabbed at it and tried to push it back into hercunt before it stopped spraying; IT DIDN'T COUNT unless he cameinside of her. But Paul was too quick, twisting out from underher and scrambling quickly to his feet. Flushing red withembarrassment, he pulled his pants up, pushed blindly past theSchaefer brothers and ran out the door and into the gym. Therewas a brief surge of bad rock music, and then the door slammedshut behind him with a loud bang. Stacy sat straddling the bench, panting with rage andfrustration as the still-warm sperm dribbled down her stomach andcoagulated in her pussy hair. IT DIDN'T COUNT! And she was stillso horny... She heard a sound in front of her and looked up. TheSchaefer brothers, mortified and confused, were turning to leave. "Wait," she cried. Frank turned and looked at her. 'Oh god', she thought, 'theSchaefers.' She felt like crying as she regarded their obesebodies and vapid faces. Outwardly, however, she smiled her mostseductive smile and - feeling like an absolute slut - gesturedfor the two brothers to come forward. Her left hand crept up andtweaked her nipple; an involuntary shudder of pleasure ranthrough her body. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

*****

"The Schaefer's?" Karen burst out laughing. "That's great.Just perfect." "Not only that," Gary continued, "but I think that theyounger one has fallen in love with her. He's already asked herout for the weekend." He was lounging back in his seat with hisfeet up on his desk beside his computer. "And?" The question came from Neil. He sat up beside Karenon Gary's bed. "Well, she accepted," Sharon answered. "For five dollars, ofcourse." The four teenagers burst out laughing. "Wouldn't want them to think she was cheap, or anything likethat." They were relaxing in Gary's bedroom, going over the updateddatabase on Stacy's "conquests" and entering new information.Gary had been forced to add a new category for repeatperformances. At the top of the list was Tim Myers and DennisBaxter, two guys from Stacy's Recreation class; they had eachfucked her sixteen times. "But the best part," Sharon continued as the laughter dieddown, "was that he wanted to take her out in public; to a movieof something." This brought fresh laughter. "So what did she do?" Karen asked. The normally shy girl wasbeginning to feel more confident around these people. They wereher friends. "What could she do? She came on all seductive and told himhow she would rather spend her time with him alone; in private,so they could have more fun. So, he ended up inviting him to hisplace for a little 'fun'." Another round of laughter. "So what about the latest round of pictures?" Neil asked afew moments later. "The first set did pretty well. Any luck withthe new ones." Gary smiled crookedly. "Oh yes," he answered. "'Cumshot'magazine brought the entire series we shot with her sucking youoff. You're going to be famous; or at least your cock is going tobe famous." Neil was impressed. "Cool." "How much?" Sharon asked. "Six hundred," Gary answered. "'Young Things' also boughtthe set with her and the dildo. They'll also be publishing thephotos from the first set in this months' issue. That's another$750 to split up. There's a couple others as well." Karen looked on unbelieving as Gary began to split up themoney. She had only become involved in the group's activitiesafter the first set of pictures had been taken, and she had noidea they were making so much money. "Uh... guys?" She had an idea. "Maybe we can get Ashleyinvolved in this somehow. I could use some of that money." Gary looked up at her. "Would she do it? Would she pose forpictures?" Karen thought for a moment. "Well, it might take someconvincing; particularly if she knows they're going to bepublished..." "Oh, don't tell her that," Sharon interrupted. "Stacydoesn't know. We got her to sign a release one night while shewas high on Gary's drugs. All she knows is that we're taking thepictures for our own use." A slow grin began to creep across Karen's face. That waspossible... and she sure could use the money. "I'll see what Ican do." Gary nodded, and went back to counting the money. The fourteenagers sat in silence for a few moments, contemplating theirprofits. "So," Neil said eventually. "What's this I hear aboutanother football party?"

*****

NUMBER 37-49 Stacy blew into the whistle, signalling the end of theRecreation class. At the "request" of a couple of her students(ie. Tim & Dennis) and with the subsequent "encouragement" ofSharon, she was dressed in an ultra-short tennis skirt whichbarely reached four inches below the bottom curves of her ass.She had been wearing this outfit to Rec class for the last fewweeks, and the male contingent of the class had been enjoying theshow, particularly when she had to bend down to pick up sportsequipment. At first, she had been mortified, and flushed redevery time she caught some of her students staring at her, butafter a while she learned to ignore the attention, or, at least,live with it. It might not have been so bad if she had beenallowed to wear panties. The class dispersed and Stacy wandered into the office spaceset aside for the Rec instructors and began to prepare for Timand Dennis's inevitable visit. She had been fucking and suckingthem the both of them weekly ever since first term. Closing thedoor behind her, Stacy walked quickly to her bag and pulled out athermos. She did not want to be caught before she could drugherself with Gary's mixture. She knew it made her act like aslut, but what else could she do? Sex without the drugs waspainful and humiliating; the drugs at least took care of thepain. Stacy opened the thermos and took a drink, grimacing at thetaste. Beer! She hated beer. During the last couple of months,Gary had, for some reason, been varying the type of alcohol inwhich he mixed the drugs. At first, it had always been scotchwhisky, but lately he had gone through vodka, gin, wine and nowbeer. Stacy had wanted to ask why, but was too scared. Of herthree tormentors, Gary was by far the scariest. Sharon was asadistic bitch and thoroughly enjoyed dominating Stacy and Neilwas constantly forcing her to have sex with him, but there wassomething weird about Gary. Something dangerous. It was best justto do what he said and not ask questions. She took another swallow of the beer and sat down on thedesk as the drugs began to take their desired effect. Slowly, butinevitably, she felt the now familiar fog gradually envelop herbrain, disassociating herself from her body. Just as inevitably,she felt the warm tingling begin in her groin and then spreadsteadily upwards into her breasts. One more drink and then sheput the top back on the thermos; it was already over half empty,and she still had a session with the Schaefer brothers later thatafternoon. Normally she wasn't worried about running out, but ithad been a busy day; Pat Saunders had fucked her up the ass inthe woods out behind the playing field on the way to school thatmorning, and Neil had forced her to give him a blow job under adesk in the Study Hall over lunch. Neither had counted. Just asTim and Dennis wouldn't count. Just as the Schaefer's wouldn'tcount. The feelings of arousal began to increase. She looked overat the clock, impatient. What was keeping them? If they didn'tcome soon, she would be late for the Schaefers. An involuntaryshudder of pleasure ran through her body at the thought of thetwo obese brothers. They were disgustingly fat and stupid, butthey could sure fuck! Stacy hung her head in shame as sheremembered her slutty behaviour at their place last weekend, butshe couldn't help it. She was still being blackmailed by Gary andhis friends, and it was the drugs which made it possible for herto carry out her orders. She couldn't help it if she was turninginto a slut. But the Schaefers... Stacy glanced back up at the clock. Still no sign of theboys. She reached down, hiked up her short skirt and began to rubher fingers over her bare pussy...

*****

"Have you seen Stacy?" Gary looked at his watch and smirked. "It's Friday," he answered. "She should be taking care ofthe her Rec class 'students' right about now." "Oh, right," Sharon nodded, feeling dumb. Stacy had beenhaving afternoon fuck sessions with those two guys in her classfor months now. She would have to call her later. "Well, how about Karen?" she asked. "I've got to confirmthings for the football party next weekend. She has to make sureAshley is available." "I haven't... oh, there she is." Gary pointed towards the far end of the hallway. Karen hadjust come around the corner, followed closely by Ashley. The twogirls seemed to be having something of an argument. Ashley seemedto be almost in tears about something. A few seconds later, Karensaid something and pointed towards a side room - the biology lab.Ashley shook her head at first, but complied a few moments later,entering the room. Karen followed, shutting the door behind her. Sharon started walking down the hall towards the room, butGary grabbed her arm and steered her to a different door. "What are you doing?" "There's a storage room with a small window leading into thebiology lab," he explained. "We can get into it through here." Heled her across a different classroom and through a doorway in therear. "Let's see what's happening."

*****

Mr. Edgar wandered about, confused and lost in the seeminglyendless maze of narrow hallways behind the school gymnasium. As amath teacher, he had found little reason to venture into thispart of the school in the past, and he was having more than alittle difficulty trying to locate Mr. Sprauge, the footballcoach. The two teachers were in the course of their yearlyargument regarding academic eligibility and certain members ofthe football team. This year, Sprauge was particularly upsetabout the failure of his star receiver to successfully completeMr. Edgar's remedial math course, and was making life difficultfor the entire faculty. Edgar was willing to compromise, but hehad to find the football coach first. The portly teacher came to a short hallway which ended in aclosed door. It looked like an office. He ambled down it and,hoping to find someone to help him out, pushed open the door. Hepoked his head in to look around and his jaw dropped open withamazement. Sitting on the edge of the desk was Stacy Richards;the beautiful, blonde Stacy Richards who had done so well in hismath class last term (highest marks ever!). The Stacy Richardswho had sat in the front row of the class each Monday, Wednesdayand Friday morning, with her golden blonde hair and her angelicgreen eyes... She wasn't looking quite so angelic now. She had hiked up her short, white skirt, exposing her nakedcrotch and was busily rubbing her left hand up and down over herpussy lips. Mr. Edgar could see moisture glistening in the thatchof blonde pussy hair. As he watched, she bunched three fingerstogether and began to slide them in and out of her wet pussy. Herright hand was similarly occupied with her breasts, which weremore or less fully exposed through the unfastened buttons of herblouse. She alternately cupped, squeezed and pinched her tits,paying particular attention to the firm nipples. Stacy's head wasthrown back, her eyes closed and her slightly lips parted as shemasturbated. The shocked math teacher froze, paralysed with indecision.What to do? Should he rush in and put a stop to this outrageousbehaviour? His mind said yes, but his quickly hardening cockargued otherwise. This situation could easily be mis-interpreted;the wave of politically correct hysteria presently sweepingthrough the schools could see him losing his position as ateacher at even the slightest hint of impropriety. Best not to goin, he decided. He could also slip away quietly, ignoring theincident altogether. His timid nature preferred this course ofaction, but he found that he was unable to draw himself away fromhis viewpoint in the doorway. He watched as Stacy brought herselfcloser and closer to an orgasm. What should he do? Best to slipaway quietly, he finally decided. Mr. Edgar turned to leave, but just as he did, he heardfootsteps behind him moving closer. Sounded like students.Caught! Panicked, he looked around; there was nowhere to goexcept... Stacy felt the pleasure from her masturbation just begin tocrest over into an orgasm when she heard a noise at the door. Itmust be Tim and Dennis. Despite her situation, she found herselfwelcoming their presence. She was so hot... She opened her eyes. OMIGOD!! It was Mr. Edgar, the mathteacher. All feelings of arousal fled instantly as she froze inshock. What was he doing here? How long had he been watching? Hadhe seen... Recovering the power of movement, she quickly allowed hershort skirt to fall down over her crotch, and - wiping her handon her skirt to clear away the pussy juices - she pulled shut herblouse. She watched as Mr. Edgar quickly shut the door behindhimself and moved uncertainly towards her, his face flushed. Helooked angry, or... something. "M-mr. Edgar," she stammered, "I... I didn't know t-that..."

*****

Gary, moving slowly and quietly, brought his face up thesmall window set in the door between the biology lab class andthe science storeroom. He peered through, and, a few secondslater, gestured for Sharon to join him at the window. Inside thebiology lab, Karen and Ashley were talking, maybe arguing. Ashleywas standing on one side of the room with her arms crossed infront of her, looking away from Karen, who was leaning up againsta lab table on the other side of the room. Gary and Sharon couldjust hear their voices, but they were unable to make out anywords, as the thick door effectively muffled the sound. Ashley sounded angry. From where they watched, the twoobservers could see tears in her eyes. The beautiful brunetteturned briefly to spit something out at Karen and then turnedaway again. Karen, on the other hand, was speaking slowly andsoothingly; she seemed to be repeating herself over and overagain. "What's going on?" Sharon whispered. "What are they fightingabout?" Gary shrugged. "Something about boys, I think. Karen'stelling her not to do something." A few second later, Karen straightened up and walked acrossthe room towards the older girl. Ashley turned away, hidingbehind a curtain of thick, reddish-brown hair, but Karen put herhand on the taller girl's shoulder and slowly turned her around. Ashley was crying now, her eyes red and swollen. She droppedher hands to her sides and said one word. Gary couldn't hear it,but he understood well enough: "please." Karen slowly brought her hand up to the other girl's cheekand brushed away a tear. Ashley flinched, but did not pull away.They stood like this for a few moments, Ashley crying quietly andKaren tenderly running her fingers up and down the other girl'scheek. Then, slowly, Karen slipped her hand behind Ashley's headand brought her face down to meet her own in a kiss. The twogirl's lips met...

*****

The math teacher cast around for something to say or do, buthis tongue seemed frozen, thick and useless in his mouth. All hecould think of was the picture Stacy had presented a few momentsago as he had spied upon her masturbating. Now, she was cringingaway from him, eyes wide with fear. What was he going to do? Ifsomeone caught him in this position he would lose his job forsure. Taking a deep breath, he gathered himself to speak. Afterall, he reasoned, he was the teacher here. He was not the one whohad been caught doing something wrong. Her behaviour meritedexpulsion, at the very least. He had a responsibility! Why, itcould have been one of the younger students who had stumbledacross the little slut rather than a mature adult such ashimself! This was a serious matter indeed. He opened his mouth to speak...

Stacy watched apprehensively as a number of expressionsflitted across the Edgar's jowled face. He was beet red andtrembling, but she could see that he was working himself up intoa rage. In a moment, he would open his mouth and she would befinished at Greenwood. "Miss Richards," he said at last, his voiced chokingslightly. "I'm afraid I have n-no choice but to report thisincident to the principal." Stacy sagged back against the desk. That was it; she wasscrewed now. She almost burst into tears. To be caught now, afterall this time... "This sort of behaviour is not to be tolerated on theschoolgrounds... or anywhere, for that matter. If someone elsehad walked in..." Stacy looked up at him as he continued to rant: the rumpledtweed suit; the thick grey mustache; the short, fat body... Onechance. She glanced over at the thermos sitting near her on thedesk, but there was no time for it. "Mr. Edgar," she interrupted, slipping her tits out fromunder her blouse and cupping them upwards towards him. Theteacher stopped talking and stared at her, eyes bulging. "Do you like what you see?" Her voice was low and throaty asshe tried to sound seductive. Mr. Edgar could only stammer as he watched the beautifulteenage student cup and massage her firm young titties for him.Such beautiful tits! He felt himself being drawn in as shestraightened up and began walking towards him. It had been solong! His hands itched to reach out and feel...

Stacy's confidence began to return as she watched hisreactions. The math teacher had now stopped his attempts to speakand was staring intently at her breasts as she massaged them.Continuing to speak in a soft, seductive voice, she moved slowlytowards him. "I bet you'd like to touch them," she invited. "They'reyour, if you like." By this time, she was directly in front ofhim. She pushed her tits upwards, offering them to him. 'Please'she thought, 'please take them.' Slowly, his hands reached up and took hold of the offeredtits. Stacy moved her hands away as he began knead them. Despitethe fact that she felt no arousal (the previous effect of thedrugs had fled completely), she forced herself to moan and writheas though his hands on her tits was getting her hot. In fact, nothing of the sort was happening, but she couldn'tlet him know that. Without the drugs, the humiliation of thesituation was almost overwhelming, but she couldn't give into it;she was fighting for her life at Greenwood, and she would doanything to keep Edgar from reporting her. She was going to givehim the fuck of his life!

Dennis grumbled angrily at his friend Tim as he ran acrossthe now empty gymnasium. If he hadn't wasted his time waiting forthe jerk, he would be with Stacy now. As it was, Tim had notbothered to inform Dennis of the fact that he had a doctor'sappointment after class, and wouldn't be able to make theirweekly meeting with the bitch. Dennis would have to go on hisown. Dennis slowed to a walk as he entered the passageway whichled to the instructor's room. He hoped Stacy was still waiting.She'd better be. He saw as he approached that the door was open acrack; he pushed it open and peered inside. Stacy was there, alright, but she wasn't waiting. She wasperched, straddling, over Mr. Edgar (THE MATH TEACHER!) as he satbehind the desk. Stacy was facing outward, with her back towardsthe sweating teacher, so Dennis had an unobstructed view of hercunt as it slid up and down on Edgar's erect penis. He also hadan unobstructed view of Stacy as she propelled herself up anddown: her flushed, vacant face; her hands, one furiously maulingher exposed tits, which were already red and splotchy from abuse,and the other bent over her shoulder and wrapped around Edgar'sneck to steady herself; her long, sleek legs, only partiallyhidden by the short gym-skirt, alternately flexing and relaxingas they moved her sleek body up and down on the math teacher'simpaling cock. She began to make small moaning sounds as she moved. A thinline of drool escaped from between her pouty lips and glistenedon her chin as she squirmed and wriggled in lustful abandonment.Beads of sweat... "What's going on?" Dennis tore himself away from the activities in the smallroom and turned to see Ted Reed, a fellow member of the Recclass. Ha! Grinning, Dennis put his fingers to his lips andgestured for the newcomer to put his eye to the crack in thedoor. Ted did so and almost chocked with surprise. Stacy seemed to be just mounting the crest of an intenseorgasm. She stiffened up and leaned back, lifting her legs fromthe floor and bouncing energetically on the invading penis as itsquelched in and out of her gobbling pussy. Behind her, Mr. Edgargrabbed her tits and held on tightly as she thrashed and wriggledher pleasure. Moments later, he too came, shooting his loadstraight into her sopping cunt. "Christ!" Ted's mouth hung open as he watched the action. He wasfrozen in the doorway as Stacy slipped off the exhaustedteacher's lap and slid to her knees in front of him. Brushing herblonde hair back from her face, she slipped her mouth over hisnow-flaccid cock and began sucking it clean. Mr. Edgar could onlysit there and moan softly as the teenaged slut gently lapped athis penis and balls. Then, the inevitable happened. Unable to contain himself,Ted coughed. Stacy jerked her mouth away from the teacher's cock,banging her head against the underside of the desk. Mr. Edgarsprang to his feet, surprisingly limber for a man of his bulk,and rushed out of the room, his face beet red and his pants stilldown around his ankles. Ted saw him coming and stepped aside, butDennis was bowled over as Mr. Edgar rushed down the hallway andout of sight.

*****

The kiss lasted for a long time. When it finally broke,Ashley was no longer crying, but, rather, had a strange look onher face. She stared at her blackmailer, eyes wide and lipsslightly parted. Staring back, Karen brought her other hand upand slipped it under Ashley's blouse and up to her tits. Ashleytried to pull away, but Karen held her close. Karen began tomassage Ashley's breasts under her blouse. The other girl beganto tremble, but did not protest. Again, Karen drew Ashley down for a kiss. This time, Garythought he saw Ashley parted her lips in anticipation, but hecouldn't be sure.

*****

Stacy crouched on her knees, trying to remain silent as shehid under the desk. A thin trickle of sperm seeped out of hercunt and began to run down her leg, but she ignored it. Who wasit? What had they seen? Furiously, she tried to do up the buttonsof her blouse and straighten out her short skirt. Her heartalmost stopped as she heard footsteps coming around the front ofthe desk. A face appeared: Dennis! Stacy trembled with relief;thank god it was someone who already knew about her. She started to back out from under the desk, but Dennisgestured for her to remain where she was. What was going on? Shefroze again as another set of footsteps crossed the room. Tim? Itmust be... No, it wasn't. Another boy... it was Ted Reed, anotherof her students, sat down in the same chair Mr. Edgar hadoccupied a few moments earlier. "Go ahead," she heard Dennis say. "She loves to suck." Stacy flushed with anger. That asshole! She started to backout again, but then stopped as Ted pulled his rock-hard cock outof his pants. She stared at it; Ted was a student at Greenwood;he counted against her quota. "C'mon, slut," Dennis ordered. He bent down and slapped herhard on her exposed ass. "I promised my friend here a blowjob." Stacy gritted her teeth and tried in vain to recapture anyvestige of the arousal she had been experiencing a few momentsearlier with the math teacher, but there was nothing left. Theintense orgasm along with the shock of being discovered seemedonce again to have burned away the effects of drug. She thoughtlongingly of the thermos sitting on top the desk; she had beenlucky enough to get a swallow from it while Edgar had pulled downhis pants, but it didn't look like she was going to get thechance here. "Stacy." Dennis leaned over and looked at her from the frontof the desk, "I don't have to make any threats, do I?" Groaning her disgust, Stacy leaned forward and slipped herdelicate fingers around the teenager's cock. Ted gasped andtensed up as her pink tongue flicked out and began licking thehead. Her other hand went down to her cunt and began rubbing,trying to get herself hot enough to tolerate what she was goingto have to do. Once again, she thought longingly about thethermos, but knew that even if she could get to it, she shouldsave it for later on. She was due at the Schaefer's later thatafternoon. She slipped her experienced lips over Ted's leaking cock andbegan to suck in earnest. This shouldn't take her too long. Behind her, Dennis began to play with her ass...

STACY'S SENIOR YEAR (PART NINE-A)

"Do you remember Peter Jenkins?" Sharon looked up from her position on the bed, where she wasskimming through the latest National Enquirer. Gary was sittingin front of his computer with an old Greenwood school yearbookopen in his lap. "Huh?" "Jenkins," Gary repeated. "Peter Jenkins. He was in gradetwelve when you were in grade nine." He turned and handed overthe old school yearbook, pointing to a picture. "That guy. Hewent out for Stacy for a little while, but she broke up withhim." "Oh... that's right. He's the one who got so drunk at theProm that he vomited all over himself; they had to throw himout." "That's him." Gary took back the yearbook and gazed at thepicture. "He was fucked up over Stacy for months: a real basketcase." Sharon glanced back at her National Enquirer for a moment,but then turned her attention back to her boyfriend. He must havesomething in mind, even if it was taking him a little while toget to it. Gary just stared intently at the picture for a moment,saying nothing, and then went back to work on his computer. "Yeah?" Maybe a little prodding was necessary. "Nothing special." He hit the return button on his computer,saving some work. That done, he turned back to Sharon. "I heard he was working up in Point Hope." Sharon waited silently for the other shoe to drop. Thistime, it was not long in coming. "I was just thinking," he mused, gazing again at theyearbook, "that maybe we're being a little greedy, keeping Stacyto ourselves up here in Bakersville. Wouldn't it be nice if wecould get him back together with his old high school flame... atleast for one night?"

*****

NUMBER 52 - 56 The game was over, and the players had long since showeredup and left the building. Biff Talbot lead his four friends intothe now-deserted locker room. Together, they made up the first-string offensive line of the Greenwood Bulldogs, the footballteam at Greenwood High. As offensive linemen, they had not beenpicked for their speed, dexterity or intelligence. No; theyoccupied the position they did on the football team because oftheir size. The smallest of them, Billy Paxter - "little Bill" -was 6'2" and weighed just over 240 lbs. He received a lot ofribbing on the team because of his size. Being an offensive lineman, even a good one, was not aparticularly glamorous position. It was pretty much all gruntwork - "down-in-the-trenches" kind of stuff. The type of footballthat won games by attrition, not by spectacular solo efforts.Hence, all the attention... all the acclaim; all the girls wentto the players in the flashier positions, such as thequarterbacks and wide receivers and the like. Until today. Grinning his big, stupid grin, Biff flipped open the door toone of the unused lockers at the end of the wall. "Holy shit!" Stacy flinched at the sudden brightness. She had been crouched in the locker for almost three hours,ever since the end of the game when Barry Packard had hustled herinto the locker room just as the final few moments expired on theclock. Barry hadn't been "using" her since early January, when hehad started going steady with another girl at school, but hehadn't forgotten Stacy either. Particularly when Neil had"explained" a few things to him. At first, he had been a littledepressed at the knowledge that Stacy had only been fucking himbecause she was being forced to do so. Then he got angry; thebitch wouldn't give him the time of day unless she had to! Atleast he was seeing Heather now. And, he thought,philosophically, Stacy was such a slut these days, he didn'treally want to fuck her anymore. She was used goods. Who knewwhere her pussy had been? Nevertheless, although he might not want her anymore forhimself, he could always do favours for his buddies. Stacy hadn'tcomplained when he told her what she was to do, not that it wouldhave done her any good. He had been quite prepared to "insist".She had just stared down at the ground and nodded her headsilently when he had told her what she was going to do; all fiveguys were "new meat" (Sharon's term). Each fuck would bring hercloser to the end of her ordeal. "Get in," Barry ordered, opening up a locker. "Hurry." Stacy hesitated slightly - the locker was pretty small - butthen she obeyed. Making certain she had a firm grip on the smallflask (red wine this time), she wriggled ass-first into thelocker, facing outwards. Her tight little cheerleading costume -green, sleeveless blouse and white skirt - rode up on her thighs,exposing her bare pussy to the open air. Barry, unable to resist,reached down and fondled it, slipping his middle finger into hersnatch and wiggling it around. Stacy had not yet ingested any ofthe wine, and thus squirmed away. Barry didn't notice. A few seconds later, Barry stepped back to take a look.Stacy was wedged backwards into the locker, crouched on the heelsof her feet, with her thighs splayed open. 'Looking good' hethought. 'Just one more...' "Hold on," he muttered, moving away out of Stacy's line ofvision. Stacy waited nervously. The game must be over by now. Anymoment there would be... "Here we are." Barry had returned with a couple of handles for the barbellsin the weight room. He had taken the weights off, leaving a footlong, hollow cylinder of shiny metal. "I know how hot you are," he muttered bending down. "Iwouldn't want you to get lonely down here while you're waiting."He reached under her crotch and slowly inserted one of the metalhandles into her dry pussy. Stacy squealed and tried to wriggleaway, but the silver tube slid quickly up into her pussy untilabout eight inches of it was lost from view. Barry propped it upon the base of the locker. Stacy tried to push herself away, butwas only able to move up about four inches before her head hitthe top of the locker; she was now effectively impaled on thehandle until she left the enclosed space. Leering, Barry passed the other handle to her. "This is for your mouth," Barry instructed her. "When mybuddies open this locker, I expect you to be tonguing it the wayyou sucked my cock a couple of months ago." Stacy looked up at him from where she crouched in thelocker, her eyes watering with humiliation. "If not," hecontinued, unrelenting, "I'll have to complain to Sharon." Hesmirked at her. " We wouldn't want that, would we?" A tear trickled down Stacy's cheek as she nodded. "How about a demonstration?" Barry suggested. Stacy hesitated momentarily, but then brought the handle upto her mouth and began tonguing and licking it. She closed hereyes as she did so, trying to imagine that it was a real cock;that she was anywhere but here... FLASH! Stacy's eyes flew open. Barry was standing in front of herwith a polaroid camera. He took another picture while she staredat him in panic and then lowered the camera. "Looking good," he laughed. Stacy turned red, but continued sucking hungrily at thehandle as she had been ordered to do. Still laughing, Barry moved forward and slammed shut thelocker door. Inside, Stacy pulled the handled out of her mouthand reached down for the thermos, wincing as the slight movementcaused the unwelcome visitor in her pussy to grind itself in alittle further.

Stacy had remained in the cramped confines of the locker forthe next three hours before Biff and the rest of the linemenarrived. It had been quite hot in the locker room, particularlyas the boys were showering, and by the end of the three hours,her entire body was damp with sweat. Her skirt was bunched up ather waist, and the shirt of the cheerleading outfit, never allthat concealing in the first place, was now plastered to herupper body, clearly revealing her rock-hard nipples. She had gone through most of the wine in the thermos, morefrom thirst than anything else, and she was almost unbearablyhorny. More than once during her stay in the locker, she had beentempted to burst out and grab one of the cocks that floated sotemptingly across her limited field of vision (there were smallventilation slits in the front of the locker), but common sense -and a good dose of fear - had won out. There were over twentyboys in the locker room. And she still had some pride left. Hersluttishness was not yet common knowledge at Greenwood, and shedesperately wanted to keep it that way. Only another fifteen orso guys to fuck. So, in the end, she had to settle for sliding up and down onthe now-slippery handle Barry had stuck in her pussy. By doing soand wriggling around as much as she could, she managed to bringon several small orgasms in the course of the three hours as theboys of the football team showered and changed, unsuspecting, allaround her. At one point, she was afraid that her moans wouldgive her away, but she was unable to stop herself from sliding upand down on the metal "cock". So instead, she stuck the second handle in her mouth andbegan to suck, thus muffling any noises she might have made.Three hour passed slowly...

"Holy shit!" Stacy Richards squinted up at the surprised football playersfrom inside the locker. Her cheerleading outfit was plastered toher sweat-soaked body. Her pussy, clearly displayed from inbetween her splayed thighs, sucked hungrily at the shiny metalcylinder as she slide herself up and down on it. Her handsclutched another metal cylinder - barbell handle, Biff realized -and slid it suggestively in and out of her mouth, between hershiny, wet lips. Her charm bracelet jingled quietly as she movedthe metal handle up and down, all the while making quiet moaningsounds around the object in her mouth. Biff tore his eyes away from this incredible sight andturned to his equally stunned friends. "Guys," he chortled, "I give you... Stacy Richards. She'sours for the evening." "Jesus." They couldn't believe it. Stacy Richards; the Stacy Richardswho had been flaunting herself in front of them from thesidelines these last three years; the Stacy Richards who hadteased them, yet only gone out with the quarterbacks and otherstars; the Stacy Richards of their dreams. Bill moved forwardfirst, reaching into the locker. "Wait," Biff told him. Barry had given him someinstructions. "Just wait a second." Biff moved forward and looked down on Stacy. She looked backup at him, tears of humiliation burning in her large, green eyes;tears of humiliation... and something else. He reached down andgently took away the barbell handle she had been sucking on. Shemoaned softly, but didn't resist as he slid it out from betweenher lips. "Stacy," he said quietly, "is there something you'd like tosay?" Despite what Barry had told him, Biff still couldn't reallybelieve she would say it. Once again, he was surprised. "Fuck me," she moaned, eyes closing as she ground the secondhandled deeper and deeper into her sopping pussy. "I need yourcocks." This was enough for the guys, and they surged forward. Biff,however, held them back again. One more thing... "What do you say?" he asked the desperate girl. She looked up at him for a few moments, but then glancedaway, unable to meet his eyes. "Please..." "What? I didn't hear you." Stacy looked up at him, lips parted. "Please," she said, hervoice louder. "Please fuck me. I need you all; I n-need yourcocks in me. Please fuck me... p-please shoot your sperm into me.Please..." And they did.

*****

Friday afternoon. 3:45 PM. The school cafeteria was almostempty, as most of the students at Greenwood had, typically,declined the opportunity to hang around the school after classes.The weekend beckoned, and, with the wonderful late springweather, the beach was exerting its almost magnetic pull on theteenagers of Bakersville. The cafeteria was not, however, completely deserted. Threestudents sat, quietly talking, in a corner table. Gary, as usual,did most of the talking. He was also the one who handed out thelatest round of money from the sale of pictures to variousmagazines. May had been a good month for them as far as picturesales went. Stacy had now unwittingly adorned the pages of over adozen magazines across the country, with more to come. It wasonly a matter of time before she found out - before someone inBakersville saw some of the pictures and spread the news - butthey didn't really care. Their time with Stacy was nearly doneanyway. The main cafeteria door opened and Karen walked in, followedclosely by Ashley. The two girls had spent more and more timetogether over the last six weeks as Karen tightened her hold overthe older girl. Like Stacy, Ashley was the victim of blackmail,and, as had been the case with Stacy, events had quickly movedbeyond her control. Since the incident which put her in thisvulnerable position in the first place, there had been any numberof events which had deepened Karen's hold on her. All Ashleycould think of was the end of the school year and freedom. AllKaren could think of was how nice it was to have such a beautifulgirl as Ashley as a personal slave, and how hard it would be togive it up. If she gave her up... "Wait here," Karen ordered, moving towards her three friendsin the corner. Obediently, but not without a flash of anger, thetall brunette sat down on a bench near the door. "What's up?" Karen asked as she approached. "Neil said youwanted to meet." "Just the final plans for tomorrow night," Sharon told her."The football party." She looked over at where Ashley sat,staring at the floor. "Everything's cool with her? Did she causeany problems?" Karen plopped herself down beside Neil. "No," she answered."No problem. We'll be there." "Great," Sharon smiled. "I've got the perfect costume pickedout; the guys are gonna love her." Neil chuckled at this, butKaren only frowned. "Listen," she said tentatively, "she's not gonna get... youknow... hurt or anything like that?" "Ha," Neil laughed. "Just get her brains fucked out. That'sall." "No," Karen ignored him. "I mean like, beaten, or... well...you know." "Huh uh," Sharon shook her head. "Nothing like that. It'sjust a party; the guys on the football team at BCN just want tocelebrate the end of the season with a big blow out. Stacy wassuch a big hit the last time, they want her back again." Sharonlooked over at Gary who didn't react. "I offered them Ashley aswell because you said you wanted the money. They were willing topay twice as much for two girls." Karen looked undecided. "There's not a problem with that, is there?" Gary asked.Karen looked over at Gary, meeting his intense stare for a fewmoments and then looking away. "No," she answered finally. "I just don't want her hurt.That's all." The table fell silent for a few moments. "OK then," Sharon stated. "That's settled. You'll meet us atmy house at eight to get the girls dressed." "Yeah," Karen told her, getting to her feet. "We'll bethere." This said, she turned and walked away towards the waitingAshley. She walked straight past her and out the door. After aconfused glance at the three teenagers in the corner, Ashleyscrambled to her feet and followed her out. "What was that all about?" Neil muttered. "Dunno." Sharon shrugged her shoulders. Gary laughed. His two friends turned towards him. "It'sspring," he explained, grinning. "Huh?" "You know," Gary insisted. "Spring. Birds and bees and thatsort of thing." His two friends stared at him, blank looks on their faces. Gary sighed. "I think our Karen is falling in love..." *****

When Peter Jenkins had called to invite her to a party up inPoint Hope, Stacy had jumped at the opportunity. Peter was twoyears older than her, and had been a senior at Greenwood whenStacy had been in grade ten. They had gone steady for a littlewhile - about nine dates altogether - but Stacy had eventuallydumped him when the current captain of the football team hadexpressed an interest in her. She had never really seen much ofPeter after that; she knew that he didn't get another girlfriendthat year, but never really thought about it. In her mind, thesplit-up had been entirely natural, and, if it bothered him,well... he'd just have to grow up a bit, wouldn't he? Thus, when he called her up, she had not hesitated to accepthis invitation. He had moved to the nearby town of Point Hopeafter graduation, where he worked as a clerk in a departmentstore. For Stacy, it represented the chance to get away from herpresent situation; to go to a party with people who didn't knowher and wouldn't force her to have sex with them. It soundedperfect. She even bought a new dress for the occasion. A sleevelessgreen dress with little ruffles on the shoulders. It matched hereyes perfectly, and, she thought, it made her look a bit like alittle girl. She had made a mental note to do her hair up into apony tail. It was the sort of look which used to drive the guyswild back when she had enjoyed that sort of teasing. Now, ofcourse, she was obliged, as often as not, to put out, so thecock-teasing was not as much fun as it used to be. Not tonight, though. Tonight, she could be her old self. Noone in Point Hope knew her or went to Greenwood. It would be justlike old times. Peter showed up at 7:00 PM as planned. It was almost a twohour drive to Point Hope, so he wanted to leave fairly early. Shehad been ready a good fifteen minutes before he arrived, but shestill kept him waiting downstairs for almost half an hour; it wasjust like old times. He hadn't changed much. Always rather short, the last coupleof years had seen his body fill out quite a bit until he wasbeginning to show a bit of pudginess. Obviously, the clerking jobat the department store didn't involve much physical activity.Stacy felt herself sneering a bit as he led her out to his car -a somewhat battered Toyota Tercel; he was turning into a bit of aslob. The way he looked now, he couldn't be getting too much inthe way of attention from any girls; that was probably why he hadturned to his old high school girlfriend for a date at thisparty. No doubt he'd be so overwhelmed at having such a beautifuldate as herself, he'd do whatever she wanted. What a schmuck! The drive up the coast to Point Hope was not particularlyscenic. The only real nice part of the drive came just as theypassed by the Point Hope Maximum Security Penitentiary andcrested the hill leading down into the town itself. Point Hopewas a quiet little town nestled against the beach below thesandstone cliffs. The view from the top of the hill was littleshort of spectacular. Stacy, however, had seen it all before. Besides, she washaving too much fun annoying Peter. The two hour drive had beenmarked by small talk and long silences, but Stacy had quicklydiscovered that Peter was still easily upset by talk of theirbrief relationship a couple years earlier in high school. He hadflushed an angry red when she had brought it up earlier in thetrip, and had, since then, shut up almost entirely. Stacy,however, was enjoying herself immensely. She made a point ofbringing it up as often as possible. By the time they arrived atthe party, she was in a great mood, and Peter was quiet andsullen.

Peter fought to remain patient as he led Stacy up the walkto the front door. This had better be worth it! He had received a phone call from a guy - some kid - atGreenwood, telling him something about Stacy's recent activities,and about her "weakness" for alcohol. The caller had suggestedthat once she had a couple of drinks in her, she would doanything, and that 'wouldn't it be nice if the two of them gotback together for a date.' Peter wasn't sure if he believed him, but it was worth atry. Stacy had been an incredible bitch to him in high school,and any chance to get even was well worth attempting. Since the phone call, he had been experiencing thisrecurring fantasy... Stacy quickly realized that she was overdressed for theparty. Most of the guests seemed to be blue collar workers from alocal fish packing plant; the majority of them wore nothing morefancy than jeans and tee-shirts. Stacy was the only woman therein a dress. She was also the only one young enough to be in highschool. Peter immediately brought her a glass of punch. When shesipped at it, Stacy discovered that it was a bit strong for hertaste, but not too bad. She took another, longer, drink from theglass. The way things were shaping up at the party, a couple ofdrinks might well be called for. The whole idea of coming to thisparty with her ex-boyfriend was beginning to look like a badidea. A little alcohol never hurt anyone; she finished the drink.Peter brought her another one and stood talking with her whileshe finished that one as well. He asked her to dance. At first, everything went well. The music was up-tempo andthe dancing was fun, despite her inappropriate dress. After awhile, though, she began to feel a bit queasy. It must have beenthe punch. In fact, she realized suddenly, if felt a littlelike... A new song started. A slow song. Peter pulled her close, into his chest; instinctively, shedraped her bare arms over his shoulders and they began to dance,slowly revolving around the dance floor. As they danced, Stacybegan to experience the now-familiar feeling of disassociation asthe room started to spin. She closed her eyes and held on toPeter's shoulders, trying to fight off the dizziness. The musicand other noise in the room seemed to recede into the background.The drug! They had drugged her; Gary must have arranged this. Panicked, Stacy tried to disentangle herself, but she wasunable to do so. Her limbs failed to respond properly, and it wasall she could do to hold onto her dance partner in order to keepherself from sinking to the floor. Around and around they went,each revolution sending Stacy's perception spinning, until allshe was aware of in the room was Peter. There was nothing else;just a blur of sound and a solid object she could hang onto. She felt the warm tingling begin in her groin. "Stacy..." A voice! Her eyes opened and struggled to focus on the facein front of her. Peter? Everything else was a blur. "Do you remember going out with me in high school?" Remember? Of course she remembered. Stacy nodded in theaffirmative, still trying to focus. Why was he asking? The tinglein her groin grew stronger. "We went on nine dates," Peter murmured to her. "Ninedates..." Stacy felt one of his hands leave her shoulder, slide downthe back of her dress and latch onto her ass. She felt that sheshould make some objection, but... "And all I got was one kiss," the voice continued. "Onekiss..." The blonde teenager tried to focus on what Peter was saying,but the hand on her butt was making concentration difficult. Shefelt the hand pull away... "One kiss..." ...and begin pulling the zipper of her dress down her back.She tried to wriggle free, but her arms remained wrapped aroundPeter's shoulders. "I don't think that's fair. Do you?" "N-no." Stacy discovered that she could speak, although evenher own voice seemed distant to her. The zipper was now all theway down, and she could feel the cool air of the room on thesmall of her back. The feelings of arousal increased, spreadingup from her crotch into her belly. Involuntarily, she ground herlower body against Peter as the dance continued. "So," Peter continued, "we're going to work through thosedates now. All nine of them. As they should have been." Stacy tried to shake her head, no. Not here; she wanted himto take her to a bedroom or something... do what he wanted there,but not here. Not in front of... "First date," he whispered, his tongue licking out at herhear. "A kiss would be nice." Retreating from her ear, he brought his lips down againsthers. She moaned softly, parting her lips, but he quickly pulledaway. That felt so good, but not here. Please, not here. "Second date," he continued. One of the straps of the dressslid off a shoulder. She tried to shrug it back on, but it justslipped further down her arm. "Maybe some tongue." This time, he thrust his tongue into her willing mouth. Shekissed back, unable to do anything else as a wave of lust surgedthrough her body. Oh god... The kiss broke, but the dance continued. The dance continued throughthe "third date", where hecopped a feel of her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Hernipples hardened immediately when he ran his fingers over them. On the "fourth date", he removed her bra, unclipping it frombehind her back and sliding it off. By now, her dress had sliddown off the other shoulder, uncovering her back all the way downto the top of her ass and leaving her breasts partly exposed... More of the same on the "fifth date". Some heavy neckingwhile mauling at her now almost-naked breasts. By now, Stacy waspanting with lust, all thought of where she was and who she waswith having fled her mind. All that mattered was... The dance. She missed what he said on the "sixth date", butby the end of the "seventh", she was grinding her crotch againsthim with abandon... "Eight date," he panted, hoarse. "It's time you felt mycock." She didn't need to be told twice. Groaning with lust, shedisentangled one arm from around his neck and reached down to hiscrotch. With an ease born of much practice, she pulled down thezipper and slide his cock free of his pants. It was already dampand rigid... "Ninth date," he gasped. "You need to be fucked." He lookedat her. "Beg for it." "Please fuck me," she moaned. "I need to be fucked. Pleaseput your lovely cock into me, Peter. Fill me up. Please..." Peter could take no more. He had been dreaming of thismoment for over two years. With a cry, he shoved her back againstthe wall, pulled one of her legs up, and shoved his cock straightinto her dripping pussy. The dress, bunched up at the waist toallow him access to her pussy, fell forward, abandoning anypretence of covering her breasts. Stacy didn't care. Holding onto his shoulders, she wrapped both legs aroundPeter's ass and fucked him right back as he drove her again andagain against the wall. She drooled and slobbered and squirmedout her lust, all the time moaning and crying for him to fuck herharder. He obliged...

The last trembling vestige of orgasm rippled though herbeaten body. Groggy, she looked up from the floor where she sat,propped against the wall. Just as she did so, a flash went off...and then another. Dazed, the blonde teenager looked around. She was lying,practically naked, against the wall, her green dress a shapelessmess around her waist. A group of people - the guests at theparty - were standing around, looking down on her and laughing. Afew of them had cameras and were using them. She heard the word"slut" and "whore" coming up in conversation. Were they talking about her? Just as had happened before, the orgasm seemed to haveburned away the effects of the drugs, leaving Stacy clear-headedand sober. Sobbing with embarrassment, she stumbled to her feet,breasts bobbing merrily, clutching her dress around her as thecrowd laughed. Another flash went off. The dress didn't seem torn, and she quickly had it back overher tits, but she was unable to zip it up on her own. Eyesdownward, she pushed her way through the crowd, looking for... "Peter!" He was standing with a couple of guys near the entrance tothe kitchen, drinking a beer. "What... what are you..." He looked over at her and smirked. "I'd heard that you hadbecome quite a slut since my days at Greenwood. I just wanted tosee if it was true." Stacy stopped talking and began to cry. Yet another flashwent off. "Stop it," she cried, spinning around to strike out atwhoever was taking the picture. The blow missed, however, and shesucceeded only in letting the front of her dress flop forwardagain. Two pictures were taken of her re-exposed breasts beforeshe was able to cover up. Furious, she turned back to Peter. "Take me home," sheordered. "Now." Peter just laughed. "Are you kidding? Get home yourself, youslut." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten dollarbill. "Take this," he said, handing it to her. "There's a busdepot just down the block. There are buses to Bakersville everycouple of hours." Stunned, she held the ten dollar bill in her hand, staringat him. Eventually, she turned and stumbled through the laughingcrowd to the door, still holding her unzipped dress around her. "And Stacy," Peter called out from behind her. She turned; maybe he was going to give her a ride after all. "You were worth every penny." The crowd roared with laughter as Stacy, tears running downher face, ran out into the cool night air...

STACY'S SENIOR YEAR (PART NINE-B)

Stacy recognized the house. She had been there once before; the night of the "party" shehad attended. The party with the guys from BCN. She blushedfuriously as she remembered what she could of the events of thatnight; the sight of the house brought them flooding back over herin a wave of shame. Stacy looked at Ashley sitting beside her inthe back seat of Sharon's car. Ashley glared back at her. Eversince what had happened last January - when Stacy had done herpart to render Ashley vulnerable to the blackmail - Ashley hadrefused to have anything to do with Stacy. Stacy didn't blameher. She just wanted the girl to drink the alcohol; to prepareherself. She didn't know yet. She didn't know what was going tohappen inside the house. Perhaps that was why she was soreluctant to drink when Sharon had handed them the thermos. Thistime, it contained some sort of wine cooler. Stacy had suckedhungrily at the alcohol. She had a pretty good idea of what wouldbe expected of them that night, and knew that she would need allthe help she could get from Gary's drugs. Ashley, not reallyunderstanding what was going on, took a couple of sips when Stacyhanded it over, but had to be ordered by Sharon before she woulddrink any more. Karen was also in the car - in the front seatbeside Sharon - but she was strangely quiet. She just sat therein silence, staring straight ahead out the front window. "OK," Sharon ordered brightly, "let's go." She opened her door and slid out of the car. Stacy andAshley followed suit, but Karen remained where she was. Sharonbent down and looked at her. "You sure you don't want to come in?" she asked. "It'll befun." Karen shook her head and looked away. Sharon just shrugged her shoulders and closed the door.Gesturing at the two other girls to follow her, she began walkingup towards the house.

The large living room had clearly been specially arrangedfor the party. Most of the furniture had been moved out, leavingonly a big, yellow couch in the centre of the space. Instead ofthe tables, chairs and other bits of furniture that had beenthere a few months ago, the boys had laid out a bunch of baremattresses. The BCN Barracudas had just finished up a winningseason, and the guys were ready to party. They were crowdedaround the big couch - all fourteen of them - beers in hand,waiting for the big entrance. Sharon smirked at them as she stoodby the door. Perfect. Time to get the show on the road. "Gentlemen," she cried out theatrically over the catcallsand hooting, "I give you your entertainment for the evening. MayI present..." She swung open the door. "Cumslut, who some of youknow from before..." Stacy - Cumslut - entered the room. She was wearing a shortblack miniskirt and bright pink tank top. A pair of blackstockings ran from just below the hem of the skirt down to herfeet, which had been forced into bright red, four inch pumps. Shewas having some trouble walking in them, but Sharon had insisted.In fact, Sharon had fastened shut the ankle strap with a smalllock; Stacy would be wearing the pumps until Sharon chose tounlock them. Her hair was combed out, flowing down over her bareshoulders in a blonde wave, and her face was made up in the sameoverdone, sluttish manner it had been done the first time she hadbeen here. She tried to force a smile and look sexy as sheentered the room, following Sharon's instructions, but it wasn'teasy. Thankfully, the drug was starting to have its customaryaffect on her, and she began to feel the familiar, welcome tinglein her crotch. "...and Melons." Ashley - Melons - followed close behind, wearing even lessthan Stacy. All she had on was a red garter belt, which held up aset of black, fishnet stockings. Her outfit was completed by apair of pink lace panties and a black, pushup bra. Her breasts,always her most prominent feature, jutted out magnificently, thenipples clearly visible over the top of the bra. Like Stacy, shealso wore a pair of four inch pumps, locked onto her feet by theankle strap. Ashley also tried to smile and look sexy, but wasunable to manage anything other than a frightened grimace. Shewas feeling nothing from the alcohol they had been given todrink. There was no comfortable disassociation or warm tinglingin her pussy. Just fear. With a cheer of approval, the members of the BCN Barracudassurged forward to begin their party.

It had been a good season for Terry Brooks. A freshman atBCN, he had quickly found both a place on the first string of theBarracudas and acceptance at the almost all-white school. Terry,a tall wiry black boy from Oregon, had been expecting things tobe difficult at BCN, but that hadn't proved to be the case.Everything had come together nicely. First, a place on the team;then a winning season with him as the star receiver; and nowthis: prime white teenage pussy. The kind of thing he could onlydream of at home. God, he loved California! Utilizing the speedwhich had made him a star on the football field, he was the firstto reach Cumslut, the short blonde one. He liked them blonde;young, blonde and horny. Like this one. He threw his arm around her and crushed his lips to hers.She responded almost immediately, her tongue welcoming his intothe wet confines of her mouth. While they kissed, he slipped hisother hand down, under the miniskirt and up into her crotch. Shewasn't wearing any panties. He slid his finger into her pussy; itwas already wet. She moaned into his mouth as they kissed. What a slut! Unable to hold himself back, Terry pushed her down backwardsonto a mattress and climbed aboard. She fell back, legs spreadinvitingly. He fumbled at his zipper until his cock hung free. Itwas hard and ready for action. Cumslut gasped as he fell onto herand jammed it into all the way into her cunt with one powerfulsurge of his hips. Almost immediately, she began to pump against him, trying tosuck it in even further. Stacy felt the orgasm hit just as the black guy came. Thefeel of his warm sperm boiling out into her pussy sent her overthe edge into a rising wave of pleasure that overwhelmed allother considerations. All thoughts of shame, humiliation or painwere washed away in the screaming, writhing, crushing surge ofecstasy which slammed through her beautiful body. Gasping andwrithing, Stacy screamed her pleasure until she crested the topand began to settle back down. The black guy, a strange look on his face, pulled out of herand pushed himself to his feet. "Fucking hell," he called over his shoulder as he backedaway, "she's a hot bitch." In the back of her mind, Stacy realized she should befeeling something at this, but couldn't remember what it was. Allshe knew right now was that she needed some more cock. Now! Theguys were more than obliging. Almost immediately, she was draggedonto her hands and knees, and a cock stuck into her soppingpussy. She ground her tight ass back to meet the impaling thrustsof the guy fucking her. Another cock appeared in front of her face. Instinctively,she grabbed at it and began sucking...

Sharon laughed as she watched Stacy writhe on the floorunder the black guy. She was observing the event through theviewfinder of her father's camcorder. The guys at BCN had been alittle hesitant at her filming their party, but when she offeredthem the girls at half price, they had quickly agreed. As well,Sharon had assured them that the video was only for personal use.And, of course, she had promised them a copy. She continued to film as Stacy's moans and cries got louderand more passionate. Finally, Stacy writhed and screamed her waythrough the biggest orgasm Sharon had ever seen; all captured forposterity...

Ashley turned and tried to run as the guys from the footballteam surged towards her, but she was unable to move effectivelyin the high-heels. She stumbled against a wall, and was quicklycaught. The football player who grabbed her was obviously alineman of some sort; he was well over six feet tall and musthave weighed close to 300 pounds. He spun her around to face himand began to paw at her tits as they jutted invitingly over theskimpy pushup bra. "Melons, huh?" he grunted, a stupid grin on his face. Hisbreath smelled of beer. "P-please..." Ashley began to whimper in fright. AllSharon's instructions about how she was to behave... all thewarnings about blackmail and pictures fled from her mind. Allthat mattered was getting away from this nightmare. The lineman moved one hand down and began to scratch roughlyat her crotch. Ashley, now crying, dropped her hands from wherethey had been trying to protect her breasts and pushed at theoffending hand, but it was no use. Ignoring her attempts to stophim, he grabbed at her panties and jerked them away from hercrotch. The delicate elastic held for a moment, but then snapped.The useless panties were quickly dropped to the floor. "Please," Ashley whispered, trying to steady herself againstthe wall. She tried to slide away, but she was unable to get anypurchase on ground with the pumps. The guy slid his cock free from his pants. It was rock hard. "OK, Melons," he sneered, "here it comes." Ignoring her cries, he inserted his cock into her dry pussyand began to push. Pinned, standing against the wall, the tallbrunette could only wriggle in pain as the cock ground, inch bypainful inch, into her cunt. Finally, it was fully inserted. Grunting with effort, hestarted to fuck it in and out of her as she stood against thewall, moaning and crying on the impaling cock.

Sharon filmed Stacy for a few moments more as the blondeteenager eagerly accommodated the two cocks, one in her mouth andone in her ass, and then stopped the camera. They had more thanenough material on Stacy; it was time they got a little more onAshley. Despite all that they had done for her, Karen had beenless then forthcoming about her activities with the brunette, andSharon wanted some dirt of her own. She looked over at the othergirl. Ashley was pinned with her back against the wall, beingfucked by a hulking brute of a football player. Sharon broughtthe camera up and began filming just as he came. Ashley wriggledaround like a fish on a hook as her cunt was filled with hissperm and then fell limply to the floor when he pulled away. The guy was immediately replaced by another "customer".Ashley was pulled onto a mattress, rolled on her back and thenimpaled by another cock while two other guys held her long legsspread wide. Unlike Stacy, however, Ashley was clearly not havinga good time. She screamed and struggled as the football playerpumped his cock in and out of her pussy. Her fists were futilelysmacking against his muscular back as he fucked her, unaware oruncaring of her response. Sharon stopped filming. There was no point in filming a rape. The stuff with Stacywas safe, as she was so obviously participating, but Ashley wasclearly being forced. While Sharon had no problem with that (infact, she kind of enjoyed it), such a tape could land them all injail. She bit her lip as the older girl was brutally raped infront of her. Why was the drug not working on her?

The cock twitched and then spurted warm, sticky sperm allover her face, but Stacy didn't care. She just wanted more. Bynow, she had serviced at least six guys: two in her cunt, anotherthree, four or maybe five in her hot, sucking mouth. Stacy didn'tcare. She just wanted more. Her mouth hung open, tongue extended,waiting for another cock to fill it up. She felt another guykneel down behind her. Spreading her thighs, the blonde slutleaned back, her pussy aching to be filled. Instead, she felt thecock push against her ass cheeks and then into her ass itself.But Stacy didn't care; she just wanted more. Squealing withpleasure, she eased herself back, impaling her nether-hole on thecock. She heard the guy groan as he began to pump himself in andout. Moaning with lust, she reached up a hand and began to useher fingers to scrape the cum from her face and slide it into hermouth. "God, what a slut!" But Stacy didn't care... Cumslut didn't care...

The brunette - "Melons" the fat girl had called her - triedto scramble away off the mattress after Jeff had finished withher, but two guys grabbed her and held her down on her back. Shekicked and screamed, but was unable to fight her way free. Billy "Headhunter" Hawkins looked down on her as shewriggled madly on the mattress. Her pussy looked red, raw fromJeff's recent assault (Jeff was one well-hung dude! Wasn't thatthe truth). One of her massive tits had popped free from thequestionable protection of the bra, and floppy freely as the girlstruggled to free herself. "Well shee-it," he drawled. "Looks like Melons here needs acock up her cunt." Melons stopped struggling and looked up, her eyes wide withhorror as the beefy linebacker undid his belt and let his pantsslip down to his ankles. His cock, its tip already glistening,hung down in front of him. "Looks good, huh girl?" Hawkins played with it, stroking itto its full size. It didn't take long. "Ten inches of primeMississippi man-meat." "Please..." Laughing, Hawkins lowered himself to his knees and fellforward on top of her, crushing her breasts beneath his greatweight. It only took a moment before his cock was inside of hertight, warm pussy...

Something snapped. Maybe it was the cock in her asshole. Maybe it was the tasteand feel of the sperm which half-covered her face. But, somethingsnapped. A sudden, overwhelming wave of orgasms rumbled up from herbattered pussy and washed over her abused body as the lone cocksawed in and out of her ass. Screaming wildly, Stacy - Cumslut -thrashed about, orgasm after orgasm shooting through her. The guyriding her asshole could only grab onto her thighs and hold on asshe bucked wildly beneath him...

Hawkins looked up from where he was fucking brunette. She was no longer fighting, having given up the struggle asanother guy - Stadler, the centre - had shoved his cock betweenthose gorgeous lips and into her pleading mouth. She just laythere now, limp and accepting as the two football players fuckedher helpless body. Someone was screaming. Hawkins stopped moving - leaving his cock buried deep insideMelon's tight teenage cunt - and squinted across the room to seewhat was happening. Stadler, however, ignored screaming; he justcontinued sliding his spit-glistening cock in and out of thebrunette's mouth. It was the blonde slut. She was bucking and screaming whilePete Brindle held on for dear life. "YES... YES... YES..." She seemed almost crazed as she bounced up and down underPete's dead weight. Finally, the football player was able to holdon no longer. His grip on her sweaty thigh slipped free, and hewas thrown off. His cock flapped wildly in the air as he rolledoff the mattress and slammed into the couch. The girl stopped thrashing as the cock left her ass andstarted to look about frantically, her green eyes wild with lustand her left hand sawing in and out of her dripping pussy. "Cocks," she cried. "I need cocks... fuck me; fuck me...pleeeeeeeeeze..." She looked about, but everyone in the room wasfrozen with shock. Frustrated, she fell back on her ass and spread her legsinvitingly. "Please fuck me," she begged. Her other hand was now playingroughly with her breasts. "Fuck Cumslut... fuck Cumslut..." Shecontinued to masturbate, muttering to herself as she reachedanother, smaller, orgasm. "Please,"she begged quietly, shuddering in the aftermath ofthe orgasm. "Please fuck me... fuck Cumslut..."

Sharon watched open-mouthed as Stacy writhed sluttishly onthe mattress, mewling quietly and pleading to be fucked. Shewould never have believed it if she hadn't seen it with herown... THE CAMERA! Sharon looked down at the video camera as it hung uselesslyat her side. Fuck. Gary would kill her! She looked up. The room had gone silent as everyone staredat the blonde teenager on the mattress. Stacy was now scrapingcum from her tits and licking it off her fingers. Even the playerfucking Ashley had stopped moving. The only movement from theroom came from the big guy pumping is cock in and out of Ashley'smouth. He had his eyes closed, and seemed to be off in his ownworld, as he fucked the beautiful brunette's face. No one else moved. 'Christ,' Sharon thought. 'I'd better do something quickbefore the whole night's ruined.' A groan came from the other end of the room. The guy fuckingAshley's mouth finally came, shooting sperm into her mouth andthen onto her outraged face as she tried to turn away. Shecoughed and choked, but wouldn't swallow. The guy looked up, opening his eyes. Everyone was staring athim except Ashley, who was busy coughing up his sperm. "Jeez," he muttered, puzzled at the attention. Sharon had an idea. "OK," she cried, quickly moving forward to the centre of theroom. "So much for round one." All eyes in the room now turned to her. Nervous, she lookedabout the room. Ahh... there it was. "Pull that coffee table over," she ordered. Two of thefootball players obliged. The coffee table had been slid upagainst the wall at the back of the living room. It stood justover two feet off the ground and was about four feet long. Theguys set it down in front of her. "Good," she stated. "Now bring the sluts over here." The guy who had been fucking Ashley pulled out and draggedher to her feet. The tall brunette stumbled on the high-heels,but was able to remain upright as he dragged her across the roomto the coffee table. Sharon pushed Ashley down on her knees atone end of the table, facing over the table-top. When Ashley wasin position, Sharon pushed the top of her body downwards, so herupper body was lying flat across the top of the table. "OK, now..." Sharon turned, but no one had moved to getStacy. Everyone seemed a little spooked by her. She had been leftby herself on the mattress as she rubbed her fingers over herinflamed pussy and muttered to herself. "C'mon Cumslut," Sharon called at her. Stacy looked up."Here Cumslut." Sharon talked to her as if she were a dog."C'mon. Come get fucked." "Fucked?" That got her attention. Scrambling awkwardly to her feet,Stacy stumbled over to the coffee table. Sperm dripped from hermouth and pussy as Sharon placed her, kneeling, opposite Ashleyacross the coffee table. When she pushed the squirming girl downonto the top of the table, Stacy's and Ashley's faces met almostexactly halfway across. "Anyone got a couple of belts?" In short order, two beltshad been produced, and Sharon used them to secure the two girlsinto position by wrapping them around their lower backs and underthe coffee table. Sharon leaned forward. "OK sluts," she whispered. "Lets see some lezzie stuff. Theguys need warming up." Almost immediately, Stacy reached up (as best she could,strapped in as she was) and cupped Ashley's face in her hands.The brunette tried to pull away, but her movement was restrictedby the belt, and she was unable to get free. Slowly and gently,Stacy pushed her face forward and planted a soft kiss on Ashley'scum-stained lips.

Ashley quit struggling as she felt Stacy's lips, soft andwarm, on her own. She knew it was wrong, but it felt so good!Particularly after all the rough treatment she had beenexperiencing. Almost involuntarily, she parted her sticky lipsand moaned softly as Stacy's wet tongue slid into her mouth andbegan exploring. In moments, the two girls were kissingpassionately, their tongues entwined. After the repeated, brutalrapes of the past forty-five minutes, it seemed like heaven toAshley. The gentleness of the other girl's lips sent shivers ofpleasure shooting through her abused body. The spell was broken when Ashley heard the guys startcheering. She opened her eyes; both her and Stacy looked aroundin panic as the members of the football team formed lines behindthem and, one at a time, slid their re-aroused cocks into thegirls' pussies. Ashley started to struggle at this new invasion,but Stacy brought her hands up and cupped her face. "Relax," the blonde teenager whispered. "It's easier." Ashley started to spit out a retort, but was cut off by thefeel of Stacy's lips once again meeting hers. The brunette closedher eyes and tried to relax; shutting out the world - shuttingout the sharp pain in her asshole as one of the players brutallyrammed his cock in - as if nothing else existed other than thisbeautiful girl in front of her. As if nothing else mattered other than the feel of hersoft, velvety lips as they writhed against her own...

Hawkins watched, gently massaging his cock, as the twoteenage sluts necked together while simultaneously getting theirasses reamed out by one guy after another. Jesus, it was hot! Hedidn't, however, join the queue. He had unfinished business withthe brunette - Melons - and wanted to make sure he had her fullattention when he fucked her. He could see the way Ashley'ssenses were closed to the world while his teammates fucked herass and cunt. Not like the blonde bitch. She was hot. She wasmoaning and wriggling back against each cock as it impaled herfrom behind. As far as he could tell, she had come at least fourtimes since the fat girl had belted her down to the coffee table.She was really into the lez-bo stuff too; her and Melons weregoing at it like a pair of bitches in heat. Eventually, his chance came up, as the stream of footballplayers began to slack off a bit. They had each come at leasttwice now, and those that wanted more were choosing the blondecunt. She fucked back, while the other - sexy a bitch as shewas - just lay there, unresisting. Hawkins waited until there were no more guys waiting andthen moved forward to unstrap the tall brunette. She struggled ashe tore her away from her kiss with her blonde friend, butoffered no real resistance as he threw her down on a mattress.She just stared up at him, wild-eyed, as he lowered himselfbetween her legs and once again thrust his cock into her soppingpussy. This time he was going to cum inside her. The bitch beganto cry as Hawkins fucked her, but he didn't mind that. Hell, it just meant she was paying attention.

Karen sat, motionless, in the front seat of Sharon's car,staring blankly out the front window at the house. It had beenover an hour now. She should have taken Sharon's advice and goneinto the house to watch, but just the idea of those guys and whatthey would do to her Ashley... Karen shook her head, trying to banish those thoughts fromher mind. It had been a running battle to keep the brunette fromgoing out with guys from school. If that slut wanted cock sobadly, she was welcome to it. She would be getting a lot of it.Karen would see to that. Even better, there was a lot of money tobe made, as Sharon had pointed out. Lots of cash. So, why did she feel so sick just thinking about it? Why didthe mere thought of some big shithead of a male sticking his uglycock into Ashley make feel like crying? Enough! Karen reached for the handle and pushed open the cardoor...

Sharon had videotaped the entire scene on the coffee table,and was now focusing on Stacy as the blonde slut began servicingtwo guys: one from behind her as she knelt, strapped in place,over the wooden surface, and one in her mouth as he straddled thecoffee table in front of her. She continued to keep the camera away from Ashley, whorefused to become aroused. Sharon couldn't understand it; Ashleyhad drank as much of the drug as Stacy, but she wasn't... Realization dawned. There was no drug! Gary hadn't been putting anything inStacy's drinks for three months now. The stuff in the thermos hadonly been alcohol. Ashley was doing this straight! Sharon stared open-mouthed as the tall brunette, tearsstreaming down her face, was being fucked on the mattress. Thenshe looked back at Stacy on the coffee table. If Ashley was doingthis without the benefit of the drug, then so was Stacy. On thecoffee table, Stacy groaned with pleasure as her body was wrackedwith yet another orgasm. The door behind her banged shut. Sharon whirled around tosee...

Karen ran into the room, her pudgy face red with exertion.Where was... She stopped in her tracks as her eyes lit on themattress where some asshole was lying between Ashley's spreadlegs, pumping his cock in and out while the tall brunette criedand struggled beneath him. Sharon reached towards her, but Karen shook off her hand. "Get off of her, you asshole," she screeched, runningtowards the mattress. Shocked, the guy looked up from where hewas fucking Ashley just in time to see Karen come barrellingacross the room towards him. He only had time to throw up hishands as the fat teenager slammed into him with enough force tomake him think he was back on the football field. With a shout,he fell back, his cock sliding out of Ashley's sopping cunt justas he came. A wad of sperm flew up and sailed across the room,splattering against the back wall. "K-Karen?" Ashley looked up at her rescuer from where shewas cringing on the mattress, confused and frightened. "It's OK honey," Karen said soothingly, bending down to helpthe naked girl to her feet. "I've got you now." The room fell silent as Karen helped the crying brunette toher feet and then led her towards the door. "What the fuck?" It was the guy she had knocked off ofAshley. Karen looked up at him. For a moment, it seemed like hewas going to go after her, but he quickly backed down. He cockstill dripped sperm as it dangled, limp and wet, before him. Karen led the trembling Ashley out through the front doorand into the open air.

The door slammed shut behind them. Sharon, along with everyone else in the room, stood instunned silence. The only sound to be heard was a quiet slurpingfrom where Stacy continued to suck on the cock of the guy sittingin front of her. "Hey!" It was the guy Karen had knocked over; Hawker, orsomething like that. "What the fuck was that all about?" He hadwrapped a towel around his waist. "We paid for two whorestonight, not just one." Sharon felt a moment of panic as the guys in the room turnedtheir attention towards her. She thought quickly. "OK," she cried, "Fair enough. I'll return half themoney..." 'Karen's share, she thought grimly. "...and the videowill be free." She looked around, experiencing a tense moment.Would they go for it? Then the silence was broken as the guy Stacy was suckingfinally came, groaning loudly as he pumped his warm sperm intoher rapidly convulsing throat. Another guy cheered, and then thetension broke as the guys converged on Stacy. The guy pulled hisnow limp cock out of her mouth, and moved away. He was quickly replaced by another player.

Karen helped Ashley into the back seat, slid in beside herand shut the car door. She had draped her coat over the othergirl's shoulders, but, despite the warmth of the evening, thetall brunette could not stop shivering. Besides the light coat,Ashley wore only the fish-net stockings (now ripped) and thelocked-on pumps. Her upper body and thighs were covered withbruises from where she had been roughly handled; her face andtits were covered with rapidly-congealing sperm. Karen felt like crying. The heavy teenager reached up and put her arm around thetaller girl's shoulder. To her surprise, the brunette stoppedtrembling and leaned into her. Ashley lay her head on Karen'sshoulder. "H-honey... Ashley," Karen felt strangely tongue-tied. Herthroat had gone dry, and she had to swallow before continuing."I... I just want you to know that... uhm; I'm, like, s-sorryabout what - what happened in... in there." A tear began totrickle down her face. "I d-didn't mean..." She was interrupted by the soft touch of Ashley's finger onher cheek, brushing away the tear. She looked over at the othergirl; she was so beautiful! Even through the tears and thebruises and the dried sperm. She looked so... "Karen..." Ashley's voice was soft and hoarse. "Karen..."

Stacy moaned and bucked as yet another of the footballplayers came in her pussy. The cock in front of her had explodedin her face a few moments earlier, and she was still licking thesperm off her lips. It had been over an hour since her lastorgasm, and the guys were at last beginning to slow down. Shemust have fucked all of them at least three times. At least, itfelt like it. Her pussy had gone numb any number of fucks ago,and the members of the football team had neither the skill northe inclination to give her clit the attention it needed to giveher pleasure. As a result, she was slowly coming out of thepleasure-induced fog that had enveloped her mind earlier in theevening. The cock slid out of her pussy, leaving her cock-free forthe first time in hours. Almost immediately, she felt a hand atgrab ahold of her hair and drag her painfully to her feet. Dimly,she opened her eyes to see what was happening. It was Sharon. Stacy winced, but didn't offer any resistance as she waspulled across the room and forced to kneel on top of the coffeetable. Her balance, always precarious on the four inch heels,failed her and she slipped backwards. Sharon, however, caught herand shoved her back upright. Quickly, she turned the blondeteenager around and positioned her so that she was leaning backon her heels with her thighs spread wide. Her sopping red cuntglistened in the light. Sharon pulled the thermos out and handed it to the nakedgirl. Anxious to recapture the pleasure she had felt earlier inthe evening, Stacy sucked hungrily at it, finishing what wasleft. She burped slightly as Sharon took back the empty thermos. "Now listen," Sharon muttered to her. "You're going to puton a bit of a show for the guys. They're getting a bit worn down.Do you understand?" Stacy felt the now-familiar rush of the alcohol and drugs.Confused, she shook her head as her well-used cunt began totingle. "I'm going to ask you some questions," Sharon explained,"You're going to answer to the camera. If you don't get themexcited again, and quickly, I'll see that this tape gets spreadaround a bit. Is that clear?" Stacy choked back the tears and nodded her head. She wasdoing everything they told her to do; why the threats? She was agood girl! One hand reached down and began rubbing her pussy. Sharonslapped it away. "Not yet," she ordered. Obediently, Stacy let her hand falllimply at her side. Sharon would tell her what to do.

Sharon stepped back and surveyed the scene. The footballplayers were all lined up against the walls, out of sight of thecamera, watching Stacy as she perched on the coffee table.Perfect. The video camera had been set up to cover the shot fromthe front, framing Stacy directly in the screen. Now,just onemore thing and they would be set up... "Anyone ready for a blowjob?" One of the big guys - the one who had been knocked overearlier by Karen - stepped forward. His cock jutted out in frontof him, ready for action. Sharon nodded him towards Stacy andwatched as he moved forward to stand in front of her. Stacy, onceagain trembling with lust, took the cock in her mouth and beganslurping away on it. The slut's hand wandered down to her cuntand began sliding up and down. Sharon moved in and whispered in Stacy's ear as she sucked. "Two things, bitch." Stacy's eyes rolled towards Sharon asshe continued to work on the cock. "First, you can play with yourself all you like, but don'tcome until I say. Do you understand?" Stacy moaned anacknowledgement. "Second, when this guy comes, don't swallow. Hold it in yourmouth until I say otherwise." Stacy's eyes widened, but she onceagain grunted in the affirmative. Satisfied, Sharon backed away and watched as the blondeteenager brought the guy to an orgasm and sucked his sperm intoher mouth. By the time he was finished, her cheeks were bulgingwith the thick, white fluid. OK. Everything was ready. Sharon hit the "record" button andbegan talking to Stacy as she crouched on the coffee table facingthe camera, legs spread and cunt glistening. "What's your name?" Stacy looked confused. "What's your name?" Sharon repeated, menacingly. "S-Stacy," came the uncertain answer. "Stacy R-Richards." A small trickle of cum dribbled out of her mouth and downher chin. The blonde slut was still playing with herself and wasobviously very close to having an orgasm. Sharon shook her head. "What is your name?" Understanding dawned on Stacy's cum-encrusted face. Shelooked like she was about to cry. "Cumslut," she answered quietly, trying to keep the cum inher mouth. "My name is Cumslut." Sharon smirked at her. "What are you, Cumslut? What do you do?" Stacy moaned, trying not to come. She looked beseechingly ather tormentor, but Sharon just stared back at her. "I'm a whore," the blonde answered, broken. "I'm a slut."Her left hand, the one with almost-full charm bracelet, movedfaster and faster over her pussy. "Please..."

"Karen..." Ashley looked over at the girl who had pulled her out fromunder the guy who had been raping her. The girl who had rescuedher. "I... what you said about g-guys..." Karen's arm felt goodon her shoulder. It somehow made her feel safe and warm. "You were right..." The tall brunette fought back the tears. "You were rightabout them..." She looked over at her rescuer. She saw the greasyhair; the weight problem; the acne... "Ashley..." The other girl began to speak, but Ashley cut her off with afinger on her lips. "Karen," she whispered, "I just want you to know..."

"...let me come. "What are you?" By now, the cum was trickling steadily out from betweenStacy's lips as she babbled away. "I'm a toy; a sex-toy. I need to be fucked all the time. Ilove to have cocks up my ass and in my cunt and in my mouth." Stacy - Cumslut - felt the waves of pleasure pulse up fromwhere her fingers rubbed frantically at her clit. In spite of thehumiliation - or as a result of it - she could feel anotherorgasm building up inside of her. "Please," she begged. "Let me come..." "What are you?" "I love cum. I love to suck it out of big juicy cocks. Ilove to feel it dribble over my lips and all over my face." She could feel her face reddening with intense humiliation,but she was unable to stop herself. It wasn't her fault. "Shit on me... piss on me... come all over me..." It was the drugs. They did this to her. Gary and Sharon andNeil could blackmail her all they wanted, but it was the drugsthat made her... "I'm a slut," she wailed, feeling the orgasm slowly build inher body. She stopped talking and looked over at Sharon. "Let me come... please?" Sharon looked at her for a moment and then nodded herapproval. It was time to bring this to an end. Stacy brought her other hand down to her cunt and began tothrust first one, then two and finally three fingers into herhungry cunt, all the while rubbing furiously at her clit. "I'm a cunt... I'm a bitch... I'm... Ahhhhh..." Sharon watched in amazement as the blonde slut wailed andcried her way into and through a massive orgasm. The sperm shehad been holding in her cheeks exploded outwards, drenching herlower face and tits as she screamed and sobbed on the coffeetable. What a slut! Finally, Stacy crested the top of the orgasm. Sharon watchedas she slowly calmed down. "Cumslut..." the blonde teenager mumbled, over and overagain, her fingers hard at work in her dripping cunt."...Cumslut..." The room fell silent for a moment, but then Stacy began tobuild herself back up again. Sharon bit her lip as she watched. The bitch was going tocome again! 'I've got to tell her,' she thought to herself. Gary wouldkill her, but... Sharon waited until Stacy was just reaching the crest of yetanother orgasm. Then, after shutting off the camera, she walkedslowly forward and leaned in to whisper something into the slut'sear...

Ashley hesitated momentarily, but then carried on. "D-do you remember that day... at Stacy's. Where... whereyou, uhm... spanked me?" Karen nodded dumbly. "I... well..." Ashley was obviously embarrassed. "Wouldyou... would you do it a-again?" Karen just stared. "I... I know I've been b-bad," the brunette stammered. "Ineed to be punished; I n-need you to spank me." Ashley flushedand looked away. Karen felt a sudden flush of joy as she looked over atAshley. The brunette was looking down, unable to meet the othergirl in the eye. But that was alright. In fact, it was betterthen alright! "Yes darling," Karen answered. "Of course I'll give you aspanking." She shifted slightly in her seat. "Come here." Moving carefully, her flesh bruised and aching from therough treatment in the house, Ashley spread her long, lusciousbody out over Karen's lap, ass upwards. Karen wasted no time. She immediately began administeringstrong, rhythmic slaps to the well-presented ass. Soon, it wasshining red. At first, the pain was great for Ashley, but that was OK;she deserved it. After a while, however, the burning seemed tofade away somewhat, and was replaced by a slow wave of pleasurewhich spread steadily outward from where her pussy rubbed againstKaren's knee. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Ashley kept repeating thisphrase as the pleasure built up and then took her over the edgeinto an intense orgasm. "Oh god..." Crying, the tall brunette trembled and shook on the othergirl's lap. Karen stopped slapping Ashley's ass and began to finger herclit, quickly sending the other girl into a second, more intense,orgasm. Finally, it was over. Ashley turned her tear and cum-stained face upwards andlooked Karen in the eye, her eyes wide with adoration. "I love you," she whispered.

Hawkins slowly rubbed his hand along his rapidly hardeningcock as he watched the scene in front of him. He had already comethree times that night, but that blonde slut's performance on thecoffee table was making him hard again. Fuckin' A! She was perched up on the coffee table, masturbating andgoing on about what a slut she was and other stuff like that, allthe while dribbling his cum down her chin. This went on for along time until the fat chick told the slut she could finallycome, which she did almost immediately. What an orgasm! The bitchthrashed about and screamed like she was having her tits mangledor something. Hawkins had never seen anything like it. After that, the fat girl turned off the camera and walkedtowards the whore. She waited until it looked like the slut wasgoing to have another orgasm, then leaned in and whisperedsomething in her ear. Immediately, the blonde stopped friggingherself and stared at the other girl, her eyes wide. "No," the blonde whispered. "You're lying." The fat girl just smirked and shook her head. Once again,she muttered something to the slut on the coffee table, and thenturned to walk away. "You're lying," the blonde yelled at her retreating back."It's n-not true." She had started crying; tears streamed downher face, making trails in the dried cum. Her entire body waswracked with violent sobs. Hawkins noticed that her left handbegan to move again. The fat girl laughed. She picked up the video camera andwalked to the door. "You're lying," the blonde screamed from her perch on thecoffee table. "You're lying!" The other girl turned. "No," she said quietly, "I'm not. No drugs; not tonight andnot since January." Sharon paused and looked Stacy up and down as the bitchcrouched, wailing, on the coffee table. Her blonde hair wasmatted with sweat and cum; her face, once beautiful, was red andsplotchy with tears and sperm; her lithe body was bruised andcaked with dried sperm. And, all the while, her left handcontinuously frigged at her exposed pussy, the metal charmbracelet glinting mockingly in the light. "Slut." Sharon looked up at the football players standing at theback of the room. To a man, they were hard again. "She's all yours," she said, smirking. "Just get her back inone piece." She turned and walked out the front door. "Nooooo!!" The blonde bitch broke down, sobbing and cryingas the members of the football team moved towards her.

END PART NINE-B

==================================================== STACY'S REVENGE Not by Parker

I did not write this. It was sent to me by what I can only assume to be a disgruntled reader, unhappy with the ending of STACY10. The accompanying message made it clear that this was a joke and I take it as such. I have received numerous letters from readers who had wanted a happier ending for poor Stacy, and I am posting this in penance. Please... forgive me

==================================================================

Something happened to me this evening that is so mind-blowingthat I have to tell someone. For reasons that will be obvious, Ican't do that, so I'm writing it down instead.

My name is Parker and earlier this month I began working as anestimator in a large city construction company. The whole thingstarted with a phone call this morning from Stacy Richards, a girlin the payroll department at the construction company. I knew herby sight, but that's all, so I was a little surprised when she saidshe had something personal to discuss with me. She suggested thatwe have lunch away from the office, so we could talk in private,and I agreed to meet her at a little burger joint a couple of milesfrom where we work.

Stacy was already there when I walked in a few minutes afternoon, sitting by herself at a table in the corner. I'd never reallynoticed her before, but now I took a look as I walked toward thetable. She was about my age, maybe two or three years older.Short light-blonde hair. A white blouse with ruffles down thefront, primly buttoned to the collar, enclosed what seemed to be anice pair of boobs. With contacts, or maybe a less librarianishpair of glasses, I decided, she wouldn't be bad looking at all.

I said hello and sat down. We made small talk until thewaitress had taken our orders, and then I asked Stacy what shewanted to see me about. She said that she'd been working late thenight before, doing some month-end work, and her computer hadstarted to act up, so she had gone over to my desk to use mine. Notwanting to damage any of my files, she had looked to see what wasstored on my computer's disk, and had noticed that some of the filenames didn't seem to have anything to do with the jobs I wasworking on. She said that she was especially interested in somefiles that had used her name - STACY01, STACY02. . . STACY06. Inparticular, she said, she'd been surprised to find "these"; shepulled a manila envelope out of her purse, opened it, and slid outhalf a dozen sets of pages stapled together.

I didn't need to look at them to know what she had. When I wasyounger I'd thought about becoming a writer. I've pretty muchgiven up on that idea, but lately I'd been working on a novel.Nothing that Book-of-the-Month Club would be interested in--it waspure, hard-core pornography, as raunchy as it gets. I hadn'tdecided whether to try to sell it to one of the X-rated bookpublishers or not; for now, it was just a private exploration ofsome fantasies.

At least it had been private. But now, here was Miss Richardssitting across from me, holding printed copies of the first sixchapters of my X-rated book. No doubt she'd copied the computerfiles, too, so grabbing the hard copies wouldn't help.

I was dizzy with both anger and embarrassment, and my facefelt about ten degrees hotter than the rest of my body. "You had nobusiness looking at those files," I said through clenched teeth,"let alone printing them out." Stacy looked at me coolly andreplied "It's the company's computer, and I don't think Mr. Moorewould appreciate what you've been using it for."

Bob Moore is the founder of the company and still runseverything with an iron hand. He hired me right out of college,even though I didn't have any real experience, and has seemed to bepretty happy with my work so far. He also happens to be the fatherof Kathy Moore, who has been the principal love object in my lifefor most of the last year, whenever she's home from school onbreaks or vacations. Besides that, he's a deacon in the localBaptist church, president of the Rotary, and a major contributor tothe Republican Party and the Moral Majority.

I could see it now. If Bob Moore knew what I'd been writing,he'd fire me, forbid his daughter to see me, have me publiclybranded as a pornographer, and do his damnedest to see that I nevergot another job in his town, or anywhere else for that matter.

"And what about this Stacy Richards in the story?" she askedin an accusing manner.

"That isn't you." I managed to sputter. "I started that storybefore I even met you."

"It's my name." she replied cooley. "I think that my lawyermight call this sort of thing 'libel' ."

"What do you want?", I asked weakly.

"Why don't you come over to my place this evening," Stacy saidsweetly, "about seven, and we'll talk about it." She wrote out heraddress on a napkin and handed it to me.

I stuffed the napkin in my pocket, dropped a five dollar billon the table and walked out. I wasn't hungry any more.

The afternoon was pretty much a waste. I didn't know whatStacy would demand, but I assumed that it would be money, and Ididn't have a lot to spare. Even if I paid her off, how could I besure that she wouldn't keep a copy of the incriminating files andhit me for more later? I thought about going to Mr. Moore andconfessing everything, but I figured that even if he somehow couldbe persuaded to let me keep my job, he'd put Kathy off limits.That was an awfully high price to pay, and I decided that I'dbetter find out how much Stacy wanted before I took that course.

I knocked on Stacy's door at 7:00 sharp, and she invited mein. She'd changed into slacks and a T-shirt, and I realized thatI'd been right about her boobs. She offered me a drink; I startedto refuse, and then decided that under the circumstances I neededone and asked for a scotch and water.

We sat on opposite ends of the sofa in her living room,sipping our drinks and waiting, each of us, for the other to saysomething. Finally I decided to go first. "I gather that you'replanning to give those printouts to Mr. Moore, and tell him whereyou got them, unless I give you some reason not to," I said. Shenodded.

"You know what I make," I said, "and I don't have any savings.I don't see how you could expect me to give you enough to make itworth your while to risk going to jail for blackmail."

"I don't want money," she said.

"What do you want, then?", I demanded.

"When I was growing up," she replied, "my parents were prettyrough with us--with me and my brother, who's three years youngerthan I am. Whenever one of us got out of line, there was aspanking, a paddling, a caning or a real whipping with a belt or arazor strap. If we got in trouble together, like if we werefighting or something like that, my mom or my dad, orsometimesboth, would line us up and give it to the two of us together."

"I don't get it," I said. "What does your childhood have todo with me?"

"Just shut up and listen," she said roughly. "A few times oneof us got a licking in the middle of the day, but usually theywaited till bedtime, when Jimmy was in his PJ's and I was in mynightgown. It was awful, knowing sometimes for hours that it wasgoing to happen, taking a bath and getting ready for bed, and thenhaving one of my parents come in, make me take off my nightgown andwork my ass over with a hairbrush or the strap or something likethat."

I was listening but I couldn't help picturing Stacy strippingoff a little nightgown and presenting her developing youngasscheeks to her mother or father. I could feel a definitetightening in the crotch, and crossed my legs to hide thesituation.

"It was almost as bad when Jimmy was going to get it," Stacycontinued. There was just as much tension in the air, and when Isaid good night to Jimmy, I'd know that in a few minutes I'd hearhim crying and pleading, and then there would start these terriblealternating sounds as something smacked into his ass, followed byhis shriek of pain, and then another smack and another shriek."

"The only times I could say I looked forward to it was when wewere both going to get it. I'd get taken to Jimmy's room, or he'dbe brought to mine, and then we'd both have to strip. One of uswould watch while the other got it, and then the other would watchwhile the first one got it. Once--I remember it very clearly,because it was when I had my first orgasm--we both got it at thesame time; my mom had me across her lap and was paddling me with ahairbrush, while my dad had Jimmy over the edge of his bed,blistering his behind with a cane."

Stacy paused and looked at me. Her eyes were shining, and Icould see little beads of sweat on her forehead. "I still don'tknow where you're going," I said. "I'm sorry you had such rottenparents, but I don't see what this has to do with my stories."

"It's very simple," she replied. "We're going to do some playacting. You're going to be my little brother, and I'm going to bemy mother."

It took a minute to sink in. "Wait a minute!", I almostgasped. "You think I'm going to let you, uh, spank me? I'm twenty-three years old!" The idea seemed so ludicrous that I wanted tolaugh, but Stacy didn't seem to be joking.

"Would you rather I had a talk with Mr. Moore in themorning?", she asked.

"Of course not," I blurted without thinking. "But I'm tooold, I mean, I'm not a little kid! This whole thing is too sillyfor words!"

"Jimmy wasn't a little kid, either," she said hotly. "He wasfourteen the time I mentioned, when I--when we both gotit at thesame time. And Mr. Moore would think that your little stories werea lot worse than anything Jimmy or I ever did!"

"Anyway," Stacy added defiantly, "that's the price you pay--either that or I go to Mr. Moore in the morning. So which is itgoing to be?"

My mind was whirling. If she went to Moore, it would bepractically the end of my whole world, and how bad could a spankingbe, anyway? I could handle pain; I'd broken bones as a kid, andplayed football in high school, until I had knee surgery andcouldn't run any more. But on the other hand, how could I, a grownman, stand the humiliation of letting a woman spank me? Then again,was that really worse than the humiliation of being fired from myfirst job and being denounced publicly as some kind of moraldegenerate?

Finally, I told her "If I say yes, I'll want every copy of mystories back--including whatever copies you've made of the computerfiles".

"When we're through," she answered, "I promise that you'llhave everything back, and you can watch me erase the computerdisks."

"All right," I said grimly, "let's get it over with."

Stacy stood up. "Take your clothes off in here, and then comeback to my bedroom." She pointed to the door that led into a hallat the end of the living room. "Through that door and turn right."

"Just a minute," I said. "If I'm supposed to take my clothesoff, then you should too."

She laughed. "You don't give up, do you? You think I'll beso impressed with your big manly body that I'll forget why you'rehere and slip into the sack with you? Well forget that idea."

She started toward the hall, then stopped and turned backtoward me. "I'm not getting undressed, but I do think I'll changeinto something else."

After Stacy left the room, I pulled my shirt off and sat downto untie my shoes. My socks came next, and then my pants. I piledmy clothes on the end of the sofa, but decided to keep my jockeyshorts on. I'm not ashamed of my body, but I wanted to keepwhatever dignity I could for as long as I could. Everything thathad happened since Stacy had called this morning still seemedunreal, but here I was, standing almost naked in a girl'sapartment, heading for her bedroom. It was a great scene, exceptI wasn't going in to make love to her, but to let her spank my ass.

I walked into Stacy's bedroom and my eyes almost popped out ofmy head. She was standing by the foot of her bed, and she hadindeed changed clothes--she was wearing one of the tiniest stringbikinis I'd ever seen! It was an aqua color, and it covered onlya few square inches of an absolutely luscious body. Obviously, noone at the company knew much about the uptight young lady who cuttheir checks. I stood theregaping at her, and despite theabsurdity of the situation, I could feel myself getting hard almostinstantly.

"I told you to leave your clothes in the other room," Stacysnapped. I started to reach for the waistband of my shorts, butthen she noticed my erection. "Keep them on," she said quickly."I'll take them off when I'm ready. But from now on, you doexactly as I tell you."

She walked over to a dresser and picked up a wide, flat-backedhairbrush. It was made out of some kind of dark wood, and lookedheavy. She went back and sat on the end of the bed, her legs justdangling over the edge, knees about eight inches apart and feet notquite touching the floor.

"All right," she said. "Get over here, across my lap, withyour head toward my left." I obeyed, clambering over her until mycock and balls settled into to the space between the middle of herthighs and my head hung just over the side of the bed.

"I've never felt so ridiculous in my life," I complained.

"You'll feel a lot more than that, in just a minute," Stacyresponded. "When was the last time you had a good hard spanking?"

"I've never been spanked, except by hand, and the last timefor that was probably when I was four or five," I answered.

"Well, so as not to shock your tender little ass too much toosoon," Stacy said, "I'll give you some warmups with your underpantson."

I held my breath as I felt Stacy's balance shift while sheraised the hairbrush. It smacked down on one cheek of my ass, andI grunted and jerked. It stung quite a bit, and the burningfeeling radiated out from where the blow had landed. Before Ireally had time to think about the sensation, the hairbrush hadlanded again, this time on the other side of my ass. I jerkedagain, and again as the heavy brush smacked in a different spot onthe other cheek.

The blows went on until I'd received maybe twenty of them, andI realized that each smack was a little harder than the last. Thepain wasn't unbearable by any means, but by the time Stacy hadstopped my ass was really smarting and my breath was whistlingthrough my teeth with every stroke.

"That's enough," I said, starting to slide off her lap.

She grabbed me across the knees and pulled me back. "Oh, no,it's not. Those were just the warmups! Now, before I take yourpants off and really get down to work, I'll give you just a tasteof how it's going to feel."

She caught the leg opening of my shorts and pulled the fabricup until it cut painfully into the crack of my ass and my rightcheek was exposed. "Just so you remember, here's how it feels withyour pants on." She brought the hairbrush down hard on the still-covered left cheek. "And here's how it willfeel with them off."The brush landed on my bare right cheek and felt like a brandingiron! I couldn't believe the difference one little sixteenth of aninch of cotton could make. Before I could react, the hairbrush hadlanded back on the left, then on the right again.

"That's enough playing around--now it's time to get serious,"Stacy exclaimed. She grabbed my shorts at the waist and yankedthem down in one motion to my knees. I swore as the waistbandripped past my balls, and it dawned on me that the erection I'd hadjust a few minutes before was gone.

"Such naughty language!," Stacy giggled as she brought thehairbrush down with a fierce "whack" in the middle of my butt. Itried to squirm, but she had a firm grip and my legs were pinionedwith my shorts around my knees. I knew I could get away, but whatwas the point of putting up a fight? Either I'd leave and she wouldgo to Moore in the morning, or else I'd wind up back in the sameposition.

Again and again the back of the hairbrush burned into my ass.I was determined not to yell or do anything else to let her knowhow much it hurt, but I was beginning to wonder how much more Icould take when she finally stopped.

"Halftime," Stacy said. She put the hairbrush down and beganto knead the burning flesh of my ass with her fingers; under othercircumstances it would have been a real turn-on, but instead itjust hurt. "Your ass gets numb," she commented, "and you don'tfeel it as much. We don't want you to miss out on anything, dowe?"

"O.K.," she directed. "Stand up." My shorts dropped to myankles as I clambered to my feet. "Leave your underpants on thefloor, and kneel on the bed, facing the side." I did as I wastold. "Now cup your balls with your right hand, and hold your cockin your left hand." I stared at her in amazement, but when shesaid I'd be sorry if I didn't obey her, I decided not to take anychances. "Keep your hands where they are, and lie down on yourstomach," she ordered. I flopped down, with both hands under theweight of my body.

"Spread your legs out--wider," she commanded. "I want to beable to see your fingers around your balls. If either one of yourhands comes out from under you, I'll flatten your balls with thehairbrush. Understand?"

I muttered that I understood. The new position didn't makemuch sense to me, until I realized that with me across her lapStacy could only lift the hairbrush about a foot, but now, with herstanding up, she could swing it three feet or more!

I lay there, clutching my cock and balls, feeling ridiculousand more than a little apprehensive about what the hairbrush wouldfeel like the next time it landed. I didn't have long to wait.

Stacy put her left hand in the small of my back, supportingmost of her weight with it, raised the hairbrush high with herright hand and swung it down ferociously. It landed with a cracklike a gunshot on the left cheek of my ass, and despite my earlierresolve, I couldn't help crying out. The pain was more intensethan anything I'd ever experienced before.

I steeled myself for the next blow, which landed just as hardon the right cheek. That time I managed to limit the sound I madeto a gasping groan. I was still marveling at that when thehairbrush landed again. After suffering through about six more, Idecided that I couldn't take it any longer.

"Stop it, please, Stacy," I begged. She stopped in midswing."Sure, I'll stop whenever you say," she said calmly. "Of course, ifyou make me stop before I'm ready, then you won't have kept yourpart of the bargain, and I won't have to keep mine, will I?"

She let that thought linger for a bit. "Well, what do yousay?", she asked. "Shall I stop now?"

I groaned and said "No, go ahead."

"Go ahead and do what?", she demanded.

"Go ahead and spank me some more."

"A little more, or a lot more?"

"A lot more!", I shouted.

I had barely answered when the hairbrush began its drumming onmy ass again. It was coming down so hard that my whole body wasbouncing off the bed, almost as though Stacy were dribbling abasketball. After thirty or forty of those, she stopped again andasked if I were ready for her to quit. "Not until you're ready tostop," I replied, and so she started up again.

Finally she stopped, panting, and took the hairbrush back tothe dresser. I lay on the bed, still clutching my cock and myballs, my ass throbbing in time with my pulse, and watched her walkacross the room. Her whole body was damp with sweat, her bikinibottom dark at the crotch and along the crack of her ass. I wasstill alert enough to reflect on how incredibly sexy she looked,but I couldn't have gotten it up if my life depended on it.

Stacy looked down at me. "Get up and get dressed," shesnapped. "I'll see you in the kitchen."

I staggered to my feet and went to pick up my shorts, glancingin the full-length mirror as I crossed the room. My ass lookedjust the way it felt, an ugly purple from top to bottom and side toside. A good thing I had no hot dates scheduled this week, Ithought to myself. I eased my shorts on and went out to the livingroom where I'd left the rest of my clothes. Dressing was agony,but at last I finished getting everything back on, even tying myshoes.

Stacy was sitting on a stool in the breakfast nook in herkitchen. "Have a seat," she smirked as I shuffled in.

"No thanks," I said. "I'll just take my stories and all ofthe computer disks and go." I wondered whether I'd be able to sitin my car to drive home.

"I promised you could have them when we were through, didn'tI?", Stacy said thoughtfully.

"You're damn right you did!"

"Well, I'll keep my promise, but this was just so much funthat I don't think we're through yet."

"What the hell do you mean?", I demanded. "You've had yourfun, now give me those files and those papers!"

Stacy was opening the front door as I spoke. She smiled at meand said "Why don't you come over Friday evening, and we'll talkabout it then?" She nudged me onto the porch and closed the doorbehind me.

I was tempted to kick the door in, beat the shit out of Stacy,if necessary, and demand my papers and computer files back. As Istood there in the cool night air, though, I realized that Icouldn't be sure she hadn't kept copies somewhere else--andbesides, if she went to the police and gave them my name, I didn'treally want to tell them my side of the story. There was no way tokeep it quiet in a town the size of ours.

Cursing under my breath, I limped back to my car and easedmyself in. Sitting down wasn't pleasant, and I wondered how muchbetter it would feel tomorrow.

Well, that's the story for now. Somehow, between now andFriday (this is still Tuesday, for another few minutes) I've got todecide what to do. Whatever it is, I won't be able to tell anyone,so I'll just have to continue to confide in this journal.

September 24, 1993

I'm writing this Friday evening, after coming back fromStacy's again. Emotionally, but not physically, I feel a lotbetter than I did Tuesday night. The story is, if anything, moreincredible than the first part was.

My work suffered all week as I stewed about what to do, but Ifinally decided there really wasn't much choice. I'd have toconfront Stacy again if I were ever to be sure of getting all ofthe incriminating evidence back. I worked late Wednesday night,and managed to check Stacy's computer and her desk to make sure shehadn't kept any copies at work.

I found nothing, and hadn't really expected to. Stacy's powerover me depended on no one else knowing what she knew, so shewouldn't take a chance on leaving anything at the office. Thatprobably meant that everything was in her apartment, though shemight have put copies in a safe deposit box or someplace like that;I'd just have to judge how sincere she seemed to be Friday evening,because there was no way I was going back for a third session!

Stacy walked by my desk this afternoon and murmured "See youat 7." I just nodded. I didn't want anyone else to get the ideathere was something going on between us.

I knocked on Stacy's door a few minutes after seven. Sheopened the door, stepping aside as I walked in.

"I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind," she said."I wouldn't have minded talking to Mr. Moore on Monday," she wenton, "but it sure would have spoiled my plans for this evening."

I said nothing. She looked at me for a few seconds, and thenwent to fix drinks. "How're the buns?", she asked in aconversational tone. "Bruises all gone?"

I nodded as she handed me my drink. "Well, we'll remedy thatin a few minutes," she smirked.

"No more dirty tricks," I said. "This has to be the lasttime."

"Okay," Stacy said--too quickly, I thought.

"I mean it," I insisted. "I want to see all of the hardcopies, and all of the computer disks, out here right now."

"No way!", she snapped. "I want you cooperating, and youwon't be if you know that all you have to do is come out here, grabthe stuff and leave."

"How do I know you won't pull the same stunt as last time?",I demanded.

"You'll just have to trust me," she replied, "when I say thattonight is it."

That's not good enough, I thought to myself, but I'll justhave to find another way to deal with it.

Stacy glanced at my empty glass. "All through?", she asked."Good. You can leave your clothes in here--all of them, this time--and meet me in the bedroom."

She strode out of the room, and I was left to repeat thebizarre experience of last Tuesday, stripping off my clothes tomeet a beautiful and sexy woman, for an experience that was goingto be anything but erotic, at least for me!

I pulled my shorts off, leaving them on the sofa on top of allof my other clothes. My stomach felt hollow as I walked resolutelytoward Stacy's bedroom, my limp cock swinging in front of me and myscrotum tight with nervous anticipation. I wondered if Stacy wouldbe wearing the aqua bikini again; it didn't really matter, butsomehow I hoped she would be.

When I rounded the corner and could see into the bedroom, Iwas glad Stacy wasn't wearing the aqua bikini. Instead she waswearing a red one, even smaller--if that were possible--than theother. The bottom covered less than half of each tawny cheek ofher ass, and when she turned to face me I could see her nipplesstanding out sharply through the filmy material and the lips of herpussy pressing tightly against the crotch of her bikini bottom.Despite my nervousness, my cock began to salute the vision in frontof me.

"You like it, I see," Stacy said. "I don't get to wear it asoften as I'd like to," she added almost wistfully. Then she turnedall business.

"I have a little surprise for you tonight," she said. "I wantyou on the bed from the start this time."

I clutched my cock in one hand and my balls in the other, andlay down across the end of her bed, as I had last Tuesday.

"Not like that--up in the middle, with your arms out in frontof you," she instructed.

I obeyed, releasing my genitals and stretching my arms out asI sidled away from the foot of the bed. Stacy bent down in frontof me, giving me a magnificent view of her delectable tits as shereached under the bed. She sat back on her haunches, holding anelastic cord about three feet long--the kind some people use tostrap luggage on the racks on the back of sports car trunk lids--with metal hooks on each end, and began to wrap it around mywrists.

"What's that for?", I protested. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Just a little extra precaution," Stacy answered grimly. Shestretched the cord as she wrapped it four or five times around mywrists, clamping them together, and then fastened the hook on theother end of the cord to some part of the bedframe.

Stacy stood up and walked around the foot of the bed. Ithought she was going after the hairbrush until I suddenly felt herwrapping another cord around my left ankle. That worried me, andI started to kick and struggle, but she was too fast and toostrong. Slowly she dragged me backward across thebed, stretchingthe cord that held my wrists as she pulled my left ankle downagainst the cold metal of the bedframe.

I tried to kick at her with my right foot, but she quicklyseized it, repeated the wrapping process, pulled my right ankledown toward the head of the bed and hooked the end of the cord tothe bedframe at that corner. Then she gripped me just above thehips and dragged me back another inch until I felt my balls slidefree of the edge of the mattress.

There was no way I could have been more helpless, or morevulnerable. My feet spanned almost the full length of the bed, myass just off the side of the mattress, cheeks spread wide apart, myballs hanging free. I swore furiously at Stacy, squirming in mymakeshift bonds.

She ignored me for a while, then told me to shut up; I did,but only after she'd reached down and given my balls a sharpsqueeze. That really took the wind out of me, and I watchedsilently as she walked over to the dresser and picked up the all-too-familiar hairbrush.

"I told you I have a surprise for you," Stacy said smugly,"but I'm going to save it for a few minutes. I think your littlebummy needs some spanks with this to warm it up." She brandishedthe hairbrush as she walked toward the foot of the bed and stoppedbehind my painfully twisted left knee. "You don't have yourunderpants to protect you, so I'll be very gentle," she addedmockingly.

I craned my neck to look over my shoulder as Stacy brought thehairbrush back and began to swing its lacquered face toward myimmobilized buttocks. I lost sight of it before it completed itsswing, but my sense of touch told me exactly where the swing ended.The hairbrush landed squarely in the middle of my right asscheek.I gasped in pain but, remembering how annoyed I'd been with myselfon Tuesday, I managed not to cry out.

The next blow smacked into the left cheek, and I bit my tongueto keep quiet. As Stacy continued to paddle my helpless ass, Iturned my head away and closed my eyes. I squirmed and wriggled,but nothing I did could deflect the hairbrush from whatever part ofthe target Stacy selected.

After about the fifth "SMACK" I'd started counting, mostly asa distraction from the pain. Thirty blows later, she stopped."There, now," she asked innocently, "weren't those nice and easy?"

"You know they weren't, goddamn you," I spat. "Now unhook meand let me get out of here!"

"But we've hardly started," Stacy protested. "And I'm hurtthat you don't give me credit for being gentle. Maybe you need areal spanking to help you appreciate the difference."

"NO!", I yelled, but it was too late. The hairbrush landedlow on my right buttock, and even as I bellowed in pain I had toadmit that Stacy had been right--the first batch had been gentle incomparison. She settled into a slow rhythm, burning the hairbrushinto my ass every two or three seconds. I rocked from side to side,trying to break the cords thatbound my ankles to the bedframe, andcried out shamelessly with every blow.

After thirty or forty of those--I stopped trying to count--shepaused and asked if I wanted a gentle one.

"Yes, please," I begged, and she obliged.

"What kind was that?", she demanded.

"An easy one," I gasped.

The next one wasn't. I screamed again, and Stacy asked "Whatwas that one?"

"A hard one!", I groaned.

"Tell me what this one is," she commanded as the hairbrushslapped again.

"An easy one."

"So you do know the difference," Stacy said sarcastically. Doyou want some more easy ones?"

"No, please, Stacy, no more," I pleaded.

"Ten more," she said. "Hard ones or easy ones?"

"Easy ones, please," I answered.

"I thought you'd say that," she snorted. "I'll compromisewith you," she said. "Half and half--do you want the easy onesfirst or last?"

I couldn't answer her. I didn't want any at all, hard oreasy.

"Hurry up," she demanded, "or there won't be any easy ones!"

"Last," I answered quickly.

The next five were the worst so far, and the final fiveweren't much gentler, at least from my perspective, but Stacy kepther word and stopped after ten. I looked over my shoulder at her,and saw that her bikini was almost transparent with perspiration.My cock didn't respond at all; 99 percent of my attention wasfocused on the pulsating pain in my butt, and the other one percenton my aching knees and hip joints.

"That's enough, Stacy, let me go," I pleaded.

"We'll take a break for a few minutes," she answered, "but youhaven't had your surprise yet."

I wondered what on earth she could be planning to top thehorrendous paddling she'd already administered, but I was sure Ididn't want to find out.

Stacy walked over to her dresser and picked up a leather thongthat looked like a boot lace from a hiking boot. She tied a slipknot near one end of it, passed the end through the knot to form acircle about two inches in diameter, andwalked back over to thebed. I could sense her directly behind me and was mystified untilI felt her cup my balls in one hand and slip the leather loop overthem.

"What the hell are you doing?", I demanded. For the firsttime I was really frightened. A man tends to be really protectiveof his testes, and not just to avoid the pain that comes frommistreating them--probably some instinct provided by nature toensure perpetuation of the species.

She tightened the noose without replying, and I could feel myballs squeezed tight against the bottom of my scrotum. I triedfrantically to rock forward and backward, to loosen or break atleast one of the cords that held me, until Stacy yanked downwardsharply on the leather thong. I screamed in pain, and Stacy saidcalmly "Hold still, or you're going to hurt yourself."

"You're the one who's hurting me, you fucking bitch," I yelledat her. "And why? You've already got my legs tied up."

"I'm going to take the cords off your ankles," she answered,"but I don't want you going anyplace." She tugged hard at thethong again as she tied the lower end tightly to the frame of thebed. I groaned and tried to push myself backward to ease thepressure on my balls, but the cord holding my wrists had alreadybeen stretched to its limit.

Then I felt first one ankle and then the other come free asStacy unhooked the cords and unwrapped them. I gave a small sighof relief as I pulled my legs closer together and took some of thestrain off my knees and hip joints. My legs were free, but therest of my body was even more tightly restrained than before; thecord binding my wrists kept me from moving backward, and even thethought of trying to move forward added to the constant ache in mytesticles.

Stacy stood up from her labors behind me and walked over tothe closet at the far side of the room. "Now for the surprise I'vebeen promising you," she said over her shoulder.

She reached into the closet and came out with a thin rod aboutthree feet long. "I took this with me when I left home," sheannounced. "A family heirloom, as it were, used on severalgenerations of naughty bare bottoms--mostly younger than yours, butnone more in need of it," she added.

As she came closer I could see that it was made of wood, alittle bigger around than the diameter of a pencil. "It's a birchcane," Stacy explained, "and I can tell you from personalexperience that its effects are really, um, exquisite. "

She walked around the end of the bed and I felt the muscles inmy ass shudder as she rested the cane across both cheeks."Listen," she ordered. She lifted the cane, brought it back andthen swung it sharply toward me; it made a whistling kind of"swish" as it sped through the air, stopping just as it tapped me.I jumped at the contact, and Stacy giggled at my reaction. "Thatsound really turns me on," she exclaimed. The cane whistled again,and again it stopped with only the lightest touch on my expectantasscheeks.

My buttocks clenched and my legs twitched involuntarily, andshe laughed again. "You'll know when its the real thing," shesaid.

"Listen, Stacy," I said, "this game has gone on long enough.Put away the cane and let me go."

"Oh, no," she responded. "This is the best part, and I don'tcare how much you beg, I'm not going to quit now."

Her voice distracted me enough that I didn't hear the swishingof the cane. In fact, the next sound I heard was the echo of myown surprised bellow of pain as the cane cut into both cheeks of myass. The cane whistled again, slashing diagonally across my rightasscheek and forcing another scream from my lungs.

The pain was beyond description. Each time the hairbrush hadlanded, pain had radiated out in all directions from the spot whereit hit. With the cane, it felt as though all that pain, and more,was concentrated in the tiny strip of bruised flesh right under thecane.

In the time it takes to tell about it the cane had cut intothe helpless cheeks of my ass a dozen times or more. I was totallyout of control, screaming at the top of my lungs with every stroke,kicking my legs and struggling against my bonds, oblivious to thepain in my balls.

Stacy paused until I quieted down. "I don't care how muchnoise you make," she told me. "My apartment's at the end, and theone next door is vacant. But you ought to take it easy with thatkicking--if you're thinking of ever having a family, that is." Andwith that she resumed the caning.

I screamed. I begged her to go back to using the hairbrush.I pleaded with her to stop. I told her to go ahead and tell Mr.Moore about my stories. But nothing even slowed her mercilessslashing at my ass.

Between yells I looked back at her, and realized that Stacy'sleft hand was deep inside her bikini bottom. From the movement ofher hand I could tell that at least one finger was plunging rapidlyin and out her pussy. She had a rapturous look on her face, buteven that didn't interfere with the rhythm of the whistling cane.

Suddenly the caning stopped, and I was dimly aware that thetelephone was ringing in the other room. Stacy dropped the cane onthe bed beside me and said "Don't go away, there's more to come."

"Saved by the bell," I thought to myself absurdly. Then Irealized that the interruption only made things worse. If Stacywere planning to beat my ass and frig herself until she came, she'dbe a lot more strokes away from cumming when she came back fromanswering the phone than she had been before it rang.

There was no way I could endure more caning--I would literallygo insane if Stacy came back and started in again, I thought.Somehow I had to get free.

Breaking the thong that tied my balls to the bedframe seemedout of the question; I would castrate myself before the thongbroke. That left only the cord pulling my wrists toward the farside of the bed. I strained against it, that merely increased thetension on the thong encircling my scrotum, until I almost screamedwith pain and frustration.

But the alternative of lying there quietly until Stacy cameback and picked up the cane seemed even worse. I braced my thighsagainst the side of the mattress, in the hope that would keep mefrom sliding forward, and tugged with all my strength. Themattress squeezed in some, letting me move forward until the painin my balls was almost unendurable.

Just as I was deciding to give up, the hook that held the cordto the far side of the bedframe broke off and my arms were free!The cord was still wrapped several times around my wrists, but Ignawed at one of the coils with my teeth until it slipped loose,and then I had my hands free as well. I picked for a few secondsat the slip knot that was sunk deep into the skin of my scrotum,and then realized that it would be easier to undo the knot at theother end of the thong.

I had just finished untying the thong from the bedframe whenI heard Stacy saying good bye to whoever had called. I snatchedthe ankle cords from the floor and the wrist cord from the bed andhobbled stiffly to a spot behind the half-closed door, trailing theleather thong from my ballooning testicles.

Stacy gasped in surprise when she saw the empty bed. I shouldhave been too stiff and sore to move, but my desperation overcamethat. I knew suddenly what I had to do to prevent any furtherextortion. In the half-second while Stacy was looking around theroom in confusion, I knocked her down with a tackle my high schoolfootball coach would have been proud of.

Before Stacy could catch her breath I had one of the anklecords wrapped neatly around her knees and hooked in place, and waswhipping the wrist cord around her wrists. Then she startedthrashing at me with elbows and knees, and it was all I could do todrag her over to the bed.

By the time I had the wrist cord--with its one good hook--fastened securely to the bed frame, Stacy had managed to throw herlegs off the end of the bed and was almost on her feet.

I shoved her back onto the bed, dodged her flying feet, seizedher ankles and dragged her into the position--lying across the bed--that I'd occupied three minutes earlier. I made sure the remainingankle cord was fastened securely around her right ankle beforeloosening the cord with which I'd bound her knees. Stacy cursed,screamed and kicked at me as I dragged her backward across the bedand hooked the right ankle cord to the bedframe, but her resistanceonly fueled the fury that had been gradually building up in me.

I caught her flailing left foot, wrapped the last cord aroundthat ankle, and pulled her left leg inexorably backward anddownward until I could anchor it to the bedframe as well. Panting,I stood up to survey the scene.

Stacy's position wasn't quite right, I decided; her ass, evenher crotch, were still on the bed, because I'd started with herwrists in the same position mine had been in, while her arms andtorso were shorter than mine. I loosened the wrist cord a fewinches, then dragged her backward and took up the slack bytightening the ankle bonds.

This time the position looked perfect. I debated a second ortwo about whether to leave her bikini top on, but concluded thatsince I'd been totally naked, she should be too. I untied the knotin the middle of her back and jerked the top out from under herboobs, provoking a yelp of pain in the midst of the ongoing streamof imprecations.

There was no question that the bottom of her bikini had to go--Stacy's ass was going to be as unprotected as mine had been. Iundid the tie strings at each side and pulled the bikini betweenher legs like a diaper.

Now I had a pretty good idea of how I'd looked to Stacy anhour earlier. The crack of her ass yawned wide, with its darkerpigmentation spreading to encircle her puckered brown asshole.Below that, the exterior lips of her pussy, glistening with theproducts of her earlier self-stimulation, gaped where my balls hadhung.

The thought of my balls reminded me that I was still danglingthe leather thong. Gingerly, I loosened the slip knot, wincing asthe thong pulled at stray pubic hairs that had been caught in it,and eased my aching testicles out of the leather noose.

I walked around to the other side of the bed and tossed thethong down where Stacy could see it. "I'm afraid your ankles willhave to stay put," I told her. "You seem to be lacking theappendages to make this useful."

"You son of bitch!", she snarled. "You won't get away withthis. I'll go to the police, I'll go to the newspaper, I'll--"

"I don't think so, Stacy," I interrupted her. "I don't thinkyou'll ever want to tell anyone about what you did to me, or aboutwhat I'm going to do to you."

"What--what are you going to do?", she asked. Thebelligerence was gone from her voice.

"To begin with," I answered, picking up the cane, "I'm goingto let you decide whether this feels as 'exquisite' as youremembered."

"Please," she whimpered, "not too hard. I didn't use it hardon you."

"Right," I said as I walked around the end of the bed. "So Iwon't use it any harder than you did." I laid the cane across herass and adjusted my stance so I could land the cane in any spot oneither cheek without moving. Stacy started to sob quietly, everymuscle from her waist down quivering with dread.

I decided not to tease Stacy the way she'd teased me. I liftedthe cane off her ass, brought it back, and swished itforward ontothe left cheek. Stacy shrieked and wiggled her ass helplessly asa dark red welt rose where the cane had landed. I swung the caneand gave her a matching welt on the other cheek. Again shescreamed and struggled against her bonds.

It wasn't until the fifth stroke of the cane that she startedpleading with me to stop, and it wasn't until the twentieth that Idid. By that time, Stacy's beautiful bottom was crossed with anetwork of red stripes, and her whole body was tremblinguncontrollably.

I laid the cane gently across her ass again. "Now," I said,"I'm going to ask you a question. If I like your answer, I'll askanother question; if I don't, your little tush will get ten morereunions with the cane. And we'll go on that way until I have allthe answers I want. Got it?"

"Yes," she wept. "What's the question?"

"That should be obvious--where are my stories?", I demanded.

"In a safe place, where you'll never find them," she saiddefiantly.

I was amazed; I'd thought she was ready to do almost anythingto stop the caning. My earlier rage had been largely transferredinto the welts that now stood out on her ass, and I had noparticular desire to keep punishing her--but she wasn't leaving memuch choice.

"I don't like that answer," I told her. She stiffened as Ilifted the cane from her ass and raised it. I selected arelatively unmarked spot on her left asscheek and whipped the canedown hard. Stacy shrieked in real agony, the lips of her pussyopening and closing as she flexed her muscles against the cords.Nine more quick hard strokes of the cane, with the same reaction toeach.

Again I asked her the same question, and again she refused totell me. By the time I'd given her ten more strokes with the cane,there was hardly a spot on Stacy's ass that wasn't part of one weltor another.

I rested the cane on her trembling ass again. "This time," Iwarned her, "if I don't like your answer it'll be twenty strokes,not ten. Are you ready to tell me where they are?"

"All right," she sighed. "I can't take any more. The stuffis all in my old briefcase in the closet."

I put the cane down on the bed and went to the closet. Thebriefcase was in the back, between two stacks of shoeboxes. Ipulled it out and backed into the bedroom, no longer conscious ofmy total nudity. I put the briefcase on the floor in front ofStacy and tried to open it. Neither latch would open; both hadlittle combination locks.

"What are the combinations, Stacy?", I asked wearily. Shelooked at me speculatively until I got to my feet and picked up thecane.

"O.K., O.K.," she said quickly. "I was going to tell you."She gave me the combinations and I set the numbers on the littlewheels. This time both latches released. I opened the briefcaseand found the manila envelope that Stacy had been carrying at ourfirst lunch "date". Inside the envelope were the same printouts ofmy six chapters and two computer diskettes.

"How do I know what's on these disks?", I demandedsuspiciously.

"My god, you ought to trust me by this time," Stacy cried. "Iknow when I've been beaten!" It took a few seconds, and then shegave a hysterical little giggle as she realized what she'd said."You can check them on my computer--it's set up where the pantry issupposed to be." Her voice sounded defeated but there was a glintof triumph in her eyes that bothered me.

I made sure each of the elastic cords was holding well beforewent out in search of Stacy's computer. I checked the disks one ata time and they seemed to be right. The file names were correctand a quick scan of the contents looked familiar. I'd shut downthe computer and was heading back to the bedroom when it dawned onme--the diskettes were a different brand than we used at work!When Stacy first copied my files she would have used disks from theoffice. She could have copied them onto her own diskettes and thenconscientiously returned the original diskettes to the office--butthe glint I'd seen in her eyes told me she still had the originalshidden somewhere.

Tiptoeing back to the bedroom, I glanced through the door.Stacy was still on the bed, straining against each of her bonds.I'd expected that, but I was pretty sure she wasn't strong enoughto break any of the hooks the way I had.

She stopped struggling as soon as she saw me. Her tentativesmile of relief changed to a look of alarm as I strode to the bedand picked up the cane. I took up my position behind her andrested the cane on her ass.

"What's the matter? Those are the right diskettes," shebabbled. "Did you have trouble with the computer? Let me go, I'llshow you how...."

"These disks are just fine, Stacy," I interrupted. "Now I wantto know where the originals are. And before you answer, rememberthe stakes are up to twenty now."

Five seconds passed in silence. "Those are the only copies Ihave," she said carefully. "I erased the originals and took themback to the office, I swear."

I looked down at her ass. The welts had sort of run together,so both cheeks were a nearly uniform reddish purple. "I don't likeit when you lie to me, Stacy," I said sadly.

"I'm not lying!", she protested frantically. "I'm telling youthe truth, I era--" She interrupted herself with a howl of pain asI lashed down with the cane. I left a dozen fresh welts on Stacy'sdiscolored rump, and eight more on the backs of her unblemishedthighs. Between screams Stacy beggedme to stop, assuring me thatshe'd erased the original diskettes.

I finished the twenty and waited for her sobbing to subside."Look," she finally gasped, "you can fuck me. You can do anythingyou want to me. Just stop caning me, because there's nothing moreI can tell you."

"We can talk about fucking after I get those original disksback," I told her. "Now where are they?"

Again she pleaded that she didn't have them, and again I cuther protests off with the cane. This time I worked on the insidesof her thighs, moving upward in a steady pattern until, afterfifteen strokes, she could have no doubt that the next one wouldcut squarely across her convulsing pussy.

I paused. "Five more, Stacy," I reminded her. "You knowwhere they're going to be--or you can have them on your assinstead, if you tell me where those diskettes are. It's yourchoice."

"No, please don't, I beg you," she shrieked. "I erased them."

I wanted to believe her, wanted to stop hurting her, but I wasconvinced she was still lying. I shrugged mentally as I drew backthe cane. Stacy had made her choice, and now she would suffer theconsequences. The muscles bulged in her thighs as she triedfutilely to close her legs, to shield the most sensitive part ofher body, but the cane whistled cleanly onto its target, leaving afurrow that cut diagonally across both lips of her pussy.

The scream that tore its way out of the depths of Stacy's soulwas clearly more sincere than anything else that had come out ofher mouth all week, but it took another stroke of the cane inalmost the same spot before she finally gurgled "All right, I'lltell you." I'd promised her twenty, so I gave her three moreacross the ass.

"I'm waiting," I said, laying the cane down. Stacy wasshaking all over as she tried to speak, but I finally understoodthat she was saying "in the freezer".

Sure enough, there were two diskettes, the brand we use atwork, sealed in a ziploc baggie, hidden between two diet dinners inthe freezer compartment of her refrigerator. A very clever hidingplace, I had to admit--not where anyone would look for computerdiskettes. I didn't bother to check them on Stacy's computer; Iwas sure she wouldn't have held out on these for so long if theyweren't real, and the last real ones at that.

I walked back into the bedroom. This time Stacy wasn'tstruggling. "Will you please let me go now?", she begged.

"Well, I've been thinking," I said. "We're about even on thecaning, but you're a couple of hundred little love pats ahead of mewith that hairbrush. Maybe we need to even the score before I letyou loose."

"No," she wailed. "My ass couldn't stand anything more."

"You didn't seem very worried about what my ass could stand,"I pointed out.

"I know. I'm sorry, but please, don't spank me any more."

"All right," I agreed, "no more tonight. "I'll come back inthe morning and we'll see how the situation looks then. Just to besure you're waiting for me, though, I'm going to leave you rightwhere you are now."

Stacy pleaded with me to undo her bonds, but I ignored her.I found an extra blanket on the shelf in her closet and spread itover her shoulders and back--leaving her bottom exposed--said "Goodnight, Stacy," gathered up all of the computer disks and printouts,and turned out the light.

I dressed in the living room, pocketed Stacy's keys, found thethermostat and turned it up to 85 to keep the derriere next doorfrom getting too chilled, turned out the rest of the lights andlocked the door behind me. As I got in my car and started thedrive home, I realized that I was leaving with a lighter heart--anda sorer ass--than I'd had since Tuesday morning.

Now that this is almost finished, I'm planning to sleep intomorrow. Oh, I'll make it over to Stacy's, all right, but acouple of extra hours won't make that much difference. And I don'thave any intention of using the hairbrush on her, because I don'tget any special thrill out of seeing someone else in pain. On theother hand, the idea of her spending ten or twelve hours, realizinghow helpless and vulnerable she is--and worrying about how her ownhairbrush is going to feel on that already-bruised bare ass--doesn't make me feel bad at all.

Good night, Stacy, and pleasant dreams.

September 25, 1993

The story continues. I woke up around nine this morning andtook my time shaving and getting dressed--for obvious reasons. Mybutt is still the color of raw meat, and aches like hell at theslightest pressure. By ten I decided that Stacy was probablygetting pretty anxious to see me.

I stopped by a fast food restaurant and picked up a couple ofscrambled egg and sausage breakfasts to go, and drove over toStacy's apartment. She was begging by the time I got the doorunlocked.

"God, I thought you were never going to come," she complainedas I walked into her bedroom. She was still in the same positionas she'd been when I left the night before, though she hadapparently managed to squirm enough to make the blanket slide offher back and onto the floor. "Please, let me go--I've got to go tothe bathroom so bad I can taste it."

I put the breakfast boxes down on the dresser and walkedaround behind her. Stacy's ass looked about the way mine had,shading from dark red on the cheeks themselves to a series ofpinkish stripes on the backs and insides of her upper thighs. Thelips of her pussy, already darker than the rest of her skin, werecrossed with two black-looking welts where the cane had done itswork.

Stacy groaned as I released the cords that bound her ankles,and stretched her legs out behind her while I loosened her wrists.She crawled off the bed and headed stiffly toward the bathroom. Iwent with her, but once I'd glanced at the window and confirmedthat it was too high and too small for her to escape, I left thebathroom and let her close the door.

She emerged about five minutes later, having done at leastsome minimal washing and combing. "I brought some stuff to eat,"I said, gesturing toward the dresser.

"That's terrific!", Stacy exclaimed. "Let me get a robe on."

"Uh-uh," I responded. "We've got some unfinished business,and I don't want you skipping out the front door before that'staken care of. You look just fine the way you are."

Indeed she did, especially from the front. I hadn't had areally good view of her boobs before, but the sight was worth thewait. They were round and full without sagging, and her trim waistand hips were perfectly proportioned. Perhaps because of thecaning I'd given her thighs, she walked and stood with her legswell apart, providing a delightful view of her snatch.

The smile died on Stacy's face. "You're really serious aboutthe hairbrush, I mean, about getting even?"

"Can you give me any reason why I shouldn't be?", I demanded.I hadn't changed my mind about spanking her, but I enjoyed theanxiety in her voice and saw no reason to relieve her worries yet.

"I guess not," she sighed. "I suppose I really do have itcoming."

"Let's eat first," I suggested, handing her one of the boxes.She took it and started to sit on the edge of the bed, butimmediately winced and jumped to her feet again. "I can't sitdown," she cried.

"You can do what I do," I suggested, sliding onto the bed andlying on my left side, propped up on one elbow with the breakfastbox in front of me. Stacy matched my position, lying on her rightside. The top of the styrofoam box grazed her right tit as sheopened it.

We ate the greasy lukewarm food eagerly without sayinganything more. When we were both finished, Stacy gathered up theboxes, plastic forks and knives, and napkins and carried them intothe kitchen. Again I followed her; my cock stiffened as I watchedher ass muscles ripple, her wide-legged gait exaggerating thetransfer of weight from one leg to the other.

Stacy dumped the breakfast debris and headed resolutely backto the bedroom. "Thanks for breakfast," she said. "Let's get thisover with."

She picked up the hairbrush from the dresser and handed it tome. "You're not going to tie me up again, are you?"

"Not right now," I answered. "We'll see how it goes." I satdown on the foot of the bed, but scooted well back from the edge,so both legs were straight out in front of me. My ass throbbed,but there was no other way to get Stacy into the position I'ddecided I wanted her to be in.

I didn't have to tell her to lie across my lap. She crawledover my legs until her battered rump was over my right thigh, andthen eased herself down until her boobs flattened against thebedspread. "Not too much, O.K.?", she pleaded. "I already can'tsit down, and I don't know how I'm going to make it to work onMonday."

Her ass twitched as I rested my arm across it. "I don't feeltoo sorry for you," I said. "This whole business was your idea,remember?" Then I lifted her left leg at the knee and swung itsuddenly over my head, pulling Stacy closer to me at the same time.She gave a startled yell and tried to pull her legs closertogether, but they were separated by my body. "Put your head downon my legs," I ordered.

Stacy moved to comply. "But why?", she wailed. I waited forthose grapefruit-sized boobs to settle onto my shins, just belowthe kneecaps, before I answered her.

"I liked the view last night," I said, "but this is more,well, personal." It was, in fact, extremely personal. With Stacy'sthighs on either side of my waist, her legs were spread almost asfar apart as they had been when she was tied to the bed. I couldhave bent down and bitten--or kissed--either blazing asscheek, andher bruised cuntlips were only inches ahead of the growing bulge inthe front of my pants.

I stroked her ass and said "I have some questions for you."

"Oh, Jesus, not this again!", she sighed.

"Not that kind of questions," I soothed. "If I hadn't gottenloose last night, would you have given me the disks back?

"Probably not," Stacy admitted.

"Just how long were you planning to play the game?", I wantedto know.

"I don't know, as long as you went along with it, I guess,"she replied.

"Would you really have gone to Mr. Moore if I'd refused toplay?" I continued to massage both of Stacy's asscheeks as Ispoke.

"I hadn't really decided yet," she responded. "I was prettysure you'd go along, at least for a while."

"But why me?", I insisted.

"You were in a bad spot--you were vulnerable," Stacyexplained. She was beginning to squirm under my probing hands, andI could see her pussy lips beginning to swell and darken.

"I suppose a shrink would say I was getting back at myfather," she continued unexpectedly. "I wanted to please him, gethim to care about me, but nothing I did was ever good enough forhim--and when I did something wrong, he really made me pay for it."

"Am I the first guy you ever spanked?", I asked, running mythumbs along the inside of her widely spread thighs.

"The second," she replied. "I lived with a guy for six monthsor so, and I used to work him over pretty good."

"What kind of hold did you have on him?" Stacy was beginningto push herself backward against my hands, and her cuntlipsglistened as the pressure of my thumbs at the base of her assspread them apart.

"I didn't need a hold--he liked it," Stacy saidcontemptuously.

"How on earth did you find that out?" I was astonished. "Imean, did he just tell you he liked it?"

"Sort of." Stacy was breathing faster as I ran my fingertipsdown the crack of her ass, across her asshole, stopping just shortof her pussy. "We were sitting in bed one Saturday morning. I wastrying to read a magazine, and he kept reaching over and tweakingmy tit. It really irritated me, and finally I told him that if hedidn't leave me alone I was going to paddle his ass. He kept itup, so finally I grabbed my hairbrush off the night table, pulledhim over my lap, and gave him ten or twelve good ones. That madehim really horny, and we had a steamy fuck, and the next day hewent out and bought me the hairbrush I have now--the one I used onyou."

"This one here," I said, picking up the hairbrush from the bedand resting its cool, hard face against one of her hotass mounds.Stacy's legs squeezed my waist as she clenched the muscles in herass.

"Please," she begged, "not too hard. I'm so sore from thecaning you gave me last night!"

"Not yet," I said, putting the hairbrush back on the bedbeside me. "So, he bought you the hairbrush and told you he likedthe way it felt," I prompted as I resumed massaging the bunchedmuscles in her asscheeks.

Stacy's ass relaxed and she said "Yeah, it got to the placewhere nothing else turned him on. I used a belt on him, then thecane, even tied his balls up the way I did yours, and he loved itall."

"Sounds like a perfect match," I commented. "Why didn't youstick together?"

Stacy moaned as I slid my thumb along the slippery length ofher cuntlips. "I hated it," she answered. "I needed him to hurt,the way I had, but all I was doing was giving him what he wanted.It got so I never wanted to see his ass again."

My thumb slid into her heated pussy and she gasped. "Don't!",she exclaimed. "I'm getting so hot I can't stand it. Hurry up andpaddle me with the hairbrush."

I slid my thumb in all the way as I picked the hairbrush upwith my other hand and laid it atop her ass. "Are you sure youwant me to do this?", I asked.

"I deserve it," she insisted. "I used it on you!"

"I have a better idea," I said. My thumb was still buried inher cunt as I laid the hairbrush back on the bed and lifted Stacy'sright leg over my head, rolling her onto her back. I fumbled one-handed with my belt and fly and dragged my pants down over mythrobbing erection.

"I never cum this way," Stacy protested, but her pussy suckedeagerly as my rigid cock offered itself in place of my thumb. Hererect nipples were the size of gumdrops as I sucked at them,feeling the walls of her pussy clenching at my thrusting penis.

Stacy screamed and clawed at my back, arching her hips as herorgasm started, and mine was only a few seconds behind. Despitethe fog in my brain I heard a "thunk" as the hairbrush fell ontothe floor.

Gradually our bodies relaxed. "My God," Stacy gasped, "Inever felt anything like that before!"

I kissed her mouth for the first time and slid off her. Ipulled my clothes off, dropping them over the edge of the bed, andthen slid off the bed myself. Naked, I fumbled around on the flooruntil I found the hairbrush. I picked it up and walked towardStacy's dresser.

"Let's leave this over here where it belongs," I suggested.Stacy nodded mutely and stretched a hand toward me as I came backto bed.

--ÿ

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