Toying With Tiffany
By Dr. Wu <doctorwu@yahoo.com>
(MMMM/f teen NC)


Chapter One: The One With The Ants in the Pants

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

Chapter Two: The One With the Flashback

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

Chapter Three: The One With the Golden Oldie

	And that's how it had started, Tiffany thought, as she prayed for the bell to 
ring to signal the end of English class. Her pert little nose had been parked in 
the chalk circle for 10 minutes now, but it seemed like an eternity. She had to 
stand still even as hundreds of ants feasted on the honey that had been applied 
to the insides of her vagina and far up into her teenaged asshole. The 
maddening ants kept her in constant agony, and were even starting to make her 
horny as they marched back and forth all over her little clitty.
	Of course, she only found out some of the details when Brown and White 
finally told her how they had worked out the plan; the night she had fingered 
herself to orgasm and swallowed a load of Brown's hot cum, she had been so 
doped up on GBH and Ecstasy she barely knew her own name.
	The morning after the cheerleader had put on her little show for the 
treacherous older men, she woke up feeling awful, an after effect of the drugs. 
She told her mother that she didn't feel well and asked her to call the school 
office. Her mother agreed; Tiffany was not the sort of girl to fake being sick.  
Her younger sister Stephanie popped her head into Tiffany's room. At 14, 
Stephanie was a budding beauty. She still had her braces on her teeth, which 
were due off in a year, and her breasts had not yet begun to sprout into the 
impressive 36-Cs that poked out of Tiffany's torso, but she was still a little 
cutie who was obviously going to be just as hot as her older sister.
	"Hey!" said Stephanie cheerfully. "Where were you last night? I didn't hear 
you come in." Tiffany cast her mind back. She remembered going to her math 
teacher's apartment, but not much else. She had a vague memory of being 
naked, and she blushed. What had happened? Why couldn't she remember?
	"Oh, I stayed at school to work on homecoming banners," Tiffany lied. She 
hated being dishonest with her sister, but couldn't possibly tell her the truth, 
and she wasn't even sure of the truth. Tiffany stayed in bed all that day. The 
next day, although she felt fine, she also had her mother call in sick for her. She 
was dreading facing Mr. Brown. Had she really been naked with him? Had he 
fucked her? She wondered. No, she'd be able to feel it in her pussy, she 
decided, and she could tell she was still a virgin.  On the third day, Tiffany felt 
like she had no choice. She couldn't stay home from school forever. 
Homecoming was approaching, and if she missed too many practices she 
wouldn't be allowed to cheer. She dressed for school conservatively - blue 
jeans, a bulky sweater, Doc Martens - and drove to Daniels High School.
	Sitting in first period, Tiffany listened to the morning announcements over 
the P.A. system. Just as they were winding up, the vice principal who was 
reading the announcements said, "And Tiffany Daniels, please report to the 
principal's office." Every kid in homeroom turned and looked at the cute 
cheerleader, and she blushed. But hey, she thought, I haven't done anything 
wrong. There could be all kinds of reasons to meet with Principal White - 
student council (Tiffany was vice president), homecoming plans, all sorts of 
things. The teenager gathered up her book bag and marched down the hall to 
Principal White's office.
	"Come in, come in, Tiffany," Mr. White said jovially. His eyes twinkled. 
Tiffany was relieved. If she'd done something wrong, he'd be acting stern. 
"Have a seat," White said once Tiffany was inside his office. He shut the door. 
Tiffany thought she heard him turn the lock, but maybe she was mistaken. 
"Well, well, Miss Tiffany Daniels," said the principal. Suddenly he was no 
longer twinkly, but stern. "How are you feeling?"
	"I'm fine," she said nervously.
	"Fine, huh?" repeated the principal. "Well, maybe we can change that. I 
want you to watch something." The sexy blonde cheerleader noticed for the 
first time a TV set on a portable cart, with a VCR underneath it. White pressed 
a button on a remote control, and a video flickered onto the screen. There was 
Tiffany Daniels, sweet 16, splayed out stark naked except for white knee socks 
on a sofa. On a table in front of her, crystal clear, was a bottle of Scotch, some 
joints, and what looked like lines of cocaine spread out on a mirror. Tiffany had 
never touched drugs of any sort, but the juxtaposition was damning.
	As the girl watched in growing horror, she saw herself start to masturbate. 
There was no sound on the video, but the image swung up and down her lithe 
young body, focusing first on her face, with her eyes closed and her mouth 
open in ecstasy, then panning down her breasts with her nipples hard and firm, 
down to her pussy, where her fingers were working away at her clit. The image 
zoomed in on her pussy, showing her blonde pubes slick with her pussy juices.
	The image jumped back to her head, and a man's torso entered the frame. 
He was unidentifiable, seen only from mid torso to mid thigh. He had an 
enormous erection, and he approached Tiffany's mouth and slid it right in. She 
could see the man's cock move in and out of her mouth. She was horrified, 
humiliated, totally degraded, as she watched herself suck a strange man's cock 
while masturbating, and watched it in with her school principal standing right 
beside her.  White laid a heavy hand on her shoulder, and Tiffany jumped.
	"Some video, huh?" he asked, leering. He hit the remote, and the screen 
went black. "But wait, there's more!" White said, making his voice sound like a 
TV pitchman on an infomercial. He was enjoying her distress, toying with her, 
piling on the humiliation. Tiffany sat numbly, her world shattered. She realized 
the video must have been made two nights ago at Mr. Brown's apartment, even 
though her memory was hazy. White walked to his desk and pulled out a large 
envelope and tossed it to her.
	"Have a look, baby," he said with a grin. Tiffany pulled out a tape recorded 
pressed play and listened once again to her confession of cheating on her 
algebra test. She stopped it and pulled from the envelope her cheat sheet. But 
the last thing in the envelope was the worst. It was an 8x10 photo taken from 
the video. It showed her face in close-up, her eyes closed but very 
recognizable. Her lips were stretched around a male cock. Printed across the 
bottom of the photo in some sort of electronic type was this message:  "MY 
NAME IS TIFFANY DANIELS. I LIVE AT 300 W. ALAMEDA STREET, 
BEVERLY, TEXAS. MY PHONE NUMBER IS 555-1212. I'M A JUNIOR 
AT DANIELS HIGH SCHOOL IN BEVERLY. I LOVE SUCKING OFF 
NASTY PERVERTS. IF YOU CAN IMAGINE IT, I WILL DO IT."
	"Oh God, Mr. White," the poor girl moaned. "What is this? What are you 
doing to me?" Mr. White was humming to himself. Tiffany didn't recognize the 
tune. Suddenly he began singing the song he had been humming. "You're 16, 
you're beautiful, and you're mine! You're 16, you're beautiful, and you're 
mine!" The stunned girl sat, immobile.
	"Let me explain your new life to, Miss Tiffany Cock sucker Slave Cunt 
Daniels. You are mine, utterly and completely. You will do anything and 
everything I tell you to, starting at this moment. Am I making myself clear, you 
wretched little slut?" The cheerleader nodded, mute. This was all a horrible 
nightmare, she thought. No one had ever dared talk to her in such a way. It was 
unimaginable. She'd report him to the school board. She'd tell her parents. 
She'd kill the mother fucker!
	"Now, Miss Slut Slave, here is what will happen if you don't do exactly as 
I tell you from now on. There are already dozens of copies of this video 
dubbed. They have been edited so there is no sign as to who made them. The 
only thing people will see on this video will be Tiffany Slut Cunt Daniels 
sucking a man's cock after she's obviously indulged in illegal drugs. The tapes 
are in envelopes, already addressed, and with a friend of mine. If I say the 
word, copies will be mailed to your parents, your pastor at St. Timothy's, your 
fellow cheerleaders, and about 50 of the guys here at school. I'm sure they'll 
make sure they're distributed to everybody else.
	"The picture you see with your name, address and phone number will be 
posted repeatedly on every sex newsgroup on the Internet. Within 24 hours, 
thousands of perverts nationwide will know who you are, where you live and 
where you go to school. Of those thousands, surely a couple hundred will want 
to track down the girl in the photo. You'll be stalked at home and at school, 
probably raped repeatedly, possibly kidnapped, never to see your family or 
friends again.
	"If you go to the police, or even if you get really brave and try to kill me, 
my friend will mail out the tapes and make the Internet postings. Your life will 
be over. So you see, Tiffany Tits, why I sing: You're 16, you're beautiful, and 
you're mine." The cheerleader felt like she was dead. She was being 
blackmailed, and she had no choice but to go along with her perverted 
principal.
	"So, shall we begin, you little slut-monkey?" he said evilly, trying to 
degrade the teenager even further with his name-calling.
	"Please," the poor girl squeaked. "Please don't do this to me. Please let me 
go. I'll be good."
	"Oh, you'll be good all right," White said sarcastically.. "You'll be great. 
You'll be as much fun as we've had in a long time. "We're going to play a series 
of games," he continued. "We'll call it Toying With Tiffany. You won't like 
hardly any of them, although there's a good chance that you'll get some nice 
orgasms along the way. Your like here at Daniels High School is going to be a 
living hell for a while, until we get tired of you, and then we'll move on. That's 
right, Tiffany, I said 'We.' I'm part of a team of men here at Daniels that breaks 
young girls like yourself. You aren't the first and you won't be the last. You're 
just our Number One project at the moment."
	"Please," the cheerleader pleaded. "I beg you, Mr. White. I'll do anything."
	"That you will, Tiffany, that you will. Now, stand up and strip." Tiffany 
hesitated. "Now, cunt!" he barked. She had no choice. Maybe later she would 
figure out how to beat the horrible principal. But for now, she had to obey him 
or risk destroying her entire life. She rose, and slowly began to peel off her 
clothes. When she was naked, White ordered her to lay on his desk on her back, 
grab her ankles and pull her legs back. Her heart pounding, she obeyed. Was he 
going to rape her now? Instead, he pulled a jar of honey from his desk drawer.
	"Don't move a muscle, bitch," he hissed, and began to apply the honey all 
over her blonde pubes. He swathed it down the sensitive strip between her 
pussy and ass, and smeared her ass cheeks with it. He held open her pussy lips 
with one hand and poured honey up inside her, then did the same thing with her 
ass. Tiffany was mortified at what was going on, but didn't understand.
	"Please, don't do this to me," she wailed.
	"Shut up!" he snapped. "I don't want to hear another word out of you." He 
reached down to the floor and picked up her white cotton panties and stuffed 
them into her mouth. "Keep them there until I tell you to take them out," he 
ordered. Then he pulled out the jar of ants. "Not a twitch, bitch, or mommy and 
daddy and the whole world will see that video." And with that, he poured the 
ants all over her crotch. Tiffany was petrified, but obeyed his order and didn't 
move a muscle. She wanted to scream, but didn't.
	"One final touch," he said. From a closet be brought forth a bag. "The 
clothes you came in are a little too modest for a slut-monkey like you. From 
now on, you'll wear what we tell you to wear. Put these on." Tiffany climbed 
down from the desk, her head spinning. Honey dripped down one thigh. The 
horrible ants were crawling all over her. She pulled out another pair of panties, 
also white cotton, and pulled them on. A short pleated skirt went over them, 
one a little shorter than her cheerleader skirt that almost showed the bottom of 
the cheeks of her sweet teenaged ass. There was no bra, and she looked at 
Principal White with a pleading expression, not daring to take the panty gag out 
of her mouth and ask a question.
	"That's right, no bra. And on future days, probably no panties," he said.  
Tiffany put on the sheer white blouse that was a little too small. She buttoned it 
all the way up, but White unbuttoned the top two buttons. Her large, firm 
teenaged breasts strained against the cotton; White could faintly make out her 
aureoles under the blouse. The cheerleader continued getting dressed, pulling 
on little white anklets with lacy tops and then buckling on white sandals with 
high heels. God, she thought, I wouldn't wear an outfit like this in a million 
years. It's so slutty.  White pulled out a roll of duct tape.
	"Just to make sure these panties stay on," he told her, and wrapped a thick 
strip of tape around her waist, taping the panties to her bare skin. He did the 
same around each thigh, taping the panties to each leg. "If you try to remove 
the panties to get rid of the ants," White warned the scared girl, "we'll repeat 
the game tomorrow, using fire ants. Now there's one last order of business, 
Miss Blow Job Daniels," the principal said. "I'm more than a little horny after 
our little meeting. I want you to kneel down and suck me off." Jesus, thought 
Tiffany, this will never end. Reluctantly, she kneeled down in front of the 
principal and pulled the panties out of her mouth as he unzipped his fly and 
hauled out his erection.
	"Take it deep, little girlie, and use your tongue."  She leaned forward and 
opened her lips and allowed the principal to insert his cock into her moist 
young mouth. She had never felt so humiliated or degraded in her 16 years, to 
be kneeling here, sucking off her principal in this slutty outfit, while hundreds 
of live ants crawled all over her most private and sensitive parts. It was a 
nightmare, she thought, but she had no choice.  After a couple of minutes of 
sucking, she felt his cock begin to swell. He clasped his hands on the sides of 
her head and thrust deeper into her throat. She started to gag, but fought down 
the urge, as his cock erupted, shooting stream after stream of jism deep into her 
throat. She swallowed over and over until he was done.
	"That's a good little slut," Mr. White said. "Go back to class now. And 
during the day, if a teacher tells you to do something, I suggest you do it. There 
are several of us in on this little project, and you wouldn't want to piss off 
anybody."  Humiliated, Tiffany stuffed her old clothes into her book bag and 
left the office. As she left, she heard White singing to himself: "You walked out 
of my dreams, and into my life  Now you're my angel divine  You're 16, you're 
beautiful, and you're mine."

Chapter Four: The One With All The Cheering

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

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

Chapter Five: The One With The Rodgers and Hammerstein

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

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

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

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

Chapter Seven: The One Where Our Girl Gets Malled

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

Chapter Eight: The One With The History Lesson

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

Chapter Nine: The One With Tongues Planted Firmly in Cheeks

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

Chapter 10: The One With The Dress Code Violations

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

Chapter 11 - The One With The Quicker Picker-upper

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

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

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

Chapter 13 - The One Where The Torch is Passed

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

THE END