The Serengeti Yeti

Stacy's Senior Year

by Parker

Part Three

WARNING: This story contains blackmail, humiliation, D&S, non-consensual sex and all that sort of good stuff (although not necessarily in every installment). This story is NOT politically correct! If you do not like reading about (ie. fantasizing) this sort of stuff, stop now (before it is TOO LATE). You may consider yourself warned.

 

"We're going to play a game," Gary said, his voice light and mocking. He had shoved his hands into his pockets, and was staring off into space. "You can win it; it will have rules and an object. If you do win, we will give you all copies of the video tape and pictures. If you lose..."

Stacy sat in stunned silence. The whole world- her world- had changed dramatically in the last half hour. Nothing was the same. That morning, she had woken up an intelligent, free young woman. No clouds on the horizon; nothing to foreshadow the impending danger. It had been almost a week since she had been forced to have sex with Neil, and she was finally beginning to feel clean again. She had passed all of the recent tests at school, and was still a part of the most influential, exclusive group of students at Greenwood. Moreover, Neil seemed to have kept his mouth shut, both about her cheating on the English test and the disgusting exercise she had been forced into at his apartment, and he was now safely relegated back to the periphery of her privileged existence. Stacy had even shelved her plans for getting him thrashed by one of her friends on the football team. The whole incident was receding into the past, and she was unaffected. Still one of the best and the brightest; one of the winners.

Then came the note in her locker. This note was handwritten, not in block letters like the previous one, as if the need for disguise no longer existed. It simply ordered her to show up at Neil's apartment at 1:00 PM the next day: Saturday, exactly a week after her last visit. Her stomach had gone cold and her hand trembled as she read the note. Was he going for a repeat performance? If he was, that little bastard...

Just then, Ashley and some friends happened by her locker, and she quickly stuffed the note into her jacket pocket. It was not the sort of thing she wanted her friends to know about; particularly Ashley... She greeted them with a smile.

"The game will last for the rest of the school year." Gary continued speaking. "If you win before the last day of classes, July 2, we will return all of the material to you, and never bother you again."

Stacy heard Gary's voice speaking the words, but it was as if he was speaking at her from a long distance away. She understood him, but didn't feel any connection with what he was saying. Was he even speaking to her? She knew that what he was saying was important, but she was unable to focus on his voice. Her mind continued to drift...

She had arrived that Saturday afternoon prepared for the worst, but what had happened turned out to be much more terrible than what she had expected; than she could have expected.

Neil wasn't alone when she had arrived. Gary, his creepy friend, was there with him, as was Sharon, Gary's cow of a girlfriend. Gary had just looked at her as she entered Neil's bedroom, his eyes huge and expressionless through the thick, magnifying lens of his glasses. He was sitting on the couch beside Sharon, who had giggled obnoxiously when Stacy had entered the room, and flicked ashes from her cigarette onto the floor. The ashes sunk into the thick shag carpet and were lost from sight. The room seemed a lot darker than Stacy remembered it.

"What's going on? Why are they here?" Stacy turned as if to leave, but Neil, behind her, had already closed the door. "What are you doing?" Stacy was beginning to panic. Neil didn't answer; he just smirked at her as he stood in front of the door.

"We have something to show you," came a voice from behind her. It was Gary. "I think you'll find it interesting." He stood up and pointed to the space on the couch beside his chubby girlfriend. "Have a seat," he invited.

"I don't think so," Stacy answered angrily, pulling herself together a bit. She didn't have to take this. "I'll stand, if you don't mind." Sarcasm.

Gary just smiled at her and repeated his gesture. "I think it would be better if you sat for this," he told her, his voice mild. "Besides, the couch has the best view of the TV." Stacy noticed for the first time a TV and video machine set up opposite the couch; they hadn't been there last week. "We wouldn't want you to miss anything," Gary continued. Stacy giggled again.

Overcome by a vague feeling of dread, Stacy was forced to fight down an impulse to flee; not that it would have done any good with Neil standing in front of the door. Sharon sat up and crushed out her half finished cigarette in the ashtray. "C'mon, babe," she called, patting the seat beside her. "I don't bite."

Stacy had looked around at the three of them- Neil smirking by the door, Sharon leaning back on the couch with her arms stretched out, and Gary looking at her with his queer, empty eyes- and then began walking slowly towards the couch. She realized that she had no choice in the matter, and there was no use in protesting further. A small part of her mind began to understand what might be on the tape, and started wailing uselessly inside her head, but she was able to repress this as she sat back on the couch. 'Don't panic' she told herself.

Sharon immediately slipped her pudgy arm around Stacy's shoulder and squeezed. "That's more like it," she laughed. "Just relax and enjoy the show. You're among friends." Neil chuckled as he moved away from the door. Stacy tensed- she hated this bitch- but did not pull away. Neil flipped off the lights as Gary moved forward to turn on the TV and start the video.

"If you lose," Gary continued, "well... I can't really say; we haven't thought that far ahead. I must say, though, I really don't expect you to lose; I have every confidence that you will meet the conditions for winning."

Somehow, the small part of Stacy's mind which was still listening to his voice was not much comforted by this expression of confidence. Her mind continued to drift...

The tape! That awful tape... They had made her watch the entire thing through from beginning to end, even though she had tried to jump up out of the couch before the first thirty seconds were up. Sharon had kept her seated, her arm surprisingly strong. Stacy had even tried to keep her eyes shut, but was unable to tear her gaze away from the scene which played itself out obscenely on the TV screen in front of her.

The sound started first, while the screen remained blank. "Please," came the voice over the TV speaker- HER VOICE! "Please let me fuck you. I want to fuck you." The picture faded up, with her- Stacy- clearly visible in the center of the room, looking over at some unidentifiable person on the bed. "Please," she repeated. "Please let me fuck you. I want to... I really do. I'm sorry I was mean to you before. Please let me fuck you?"

It was at this point that Stacy tried to jump up off the couch, but Sharon had been expecting it, and her encircling arm held the panicking girl down. Gary moved over as if to help his girlfriend, but stopped as he saw that no help was needed: Stacy went limp and relaxed back into the couch, her eyes wide as she stared at the TV screen.

She was watching herself slowly strip off her own clothes. First the tee-shirt... then the bra (Stacy began to cry on the couch as her TV image fondled and rubbed its breasts; her hand fluttered up to her face, as if to shield her eyes, but it dropped back down to her lap when Gary frowned at her)... then the pants. Finally, she was naked on the screen.

"Please." The girl on the screen (Stacy could no longer believe it was herself saying and doing those things; she started thinking of her image on the screen as someone else) seemed to be almost panting in lust. "Please fuck me. In need it so bad. Please fuck me." The naked girl ran her hands over her erect nipples. "Please... I want it now..."

"Come here, bitch!" The figure on the bed, only visible in the corner of the picture, spoke (Stacy knew it was Neil, but her mind refused to put a name to him- surely what was happening on the screen had nothing to do with her). The naked girl responded quickly; breasts bobbing, she ran over and kneeled at the side of the bed. After remaining in this position for a few moments, the girl reached for the man's crotch and fumbled with the zipper. "Oh yes," she breathed. "Please let me have your cock."

The viewpoint shifted suddenly, to a shot taken above and behind the man lying on the bed. (A second camera, Stacy realized; there had been two cameras.) From the new point of view, the girl's actions between the man's legs could be seen clearly. First, she handled the cock with her fingers; then she kissed it, long slow kisses with lots of tongue; finally she enveloped it completely within her mouth. The girl's head bobbed up and down and she made loud slobbering sounds as she worked on the cock, sucking and licking. The man reached down in front of her and began to play with her nipples, which were plainly very hard. Finally, he leaned back and pushed her away. She quickly pulled his jeans off and, after he lay back on the bed, climbed on top of him, straddling his naked thighs.

The camera switched back to original point of view, as the girl began to play with herself while kneeling on the bed. It zoomed in and panned slowly down her body, from her slack, lust-glazed face, down across her panting chest and, finally, down to her pussy, where her fingers worked frantically. She was visibly wet. Then it slowly pulled back, revealing her entire body, just as she leaned forward and impaled herself on the man's stiff cock. Slowly, she moved her hips down until the cock was stuffed fully into her pussy. Then, moaning slightly, she began to grind her hips up and down, fucking herself silly as the man played with her bobbing breasts.

Once more, the camera zoomed in, and played down her sweaty body, perfectly capturing each detail on video-tape. The girl's excitement began to increase as her moans became cries and then threatened to become screams. The camera pulled back just as she hit the crest of her orgasm, and held the shot as the man pulled the girl down to his chest and climaxed himself. The picture slowly faded on this shot, with the girl collapsed sweatily on top of the man, panting and gasping for breath.

"Anyhow," Gary was still speaking, "we won't worry about that for now. The important thing is to set out the rules of our little game and get started. The details can be worked out later." Stacy just stared across the room at the now-dark screen, in a daze. Gary, who had begun pacing the room during his little speech, came to a halt beside the TV. He looked down at her. "In order to win the game," he said mildly, "you are going to have to fuck fifty different guys at school before the end of the school year. That's all." Finally, his words began to register on the stunned teenager. Had he said "fifty guys"? Fuck fifty guys?

"Nooo," Stacy cried, leaping suddenly off the couch. It was too much! Sharon grabbed after her, but the pudgy girl was too slow. In a split second, Stacy was on Gary, swinging wildly with both hands while swearing and cursing at him. One of her swings caught him across the face, sending his glasses sailing across the room. Before Stacy could feel any satisfaction, however, she was grabbed from behind and pulled away. Neil had run up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pinning her arms to her sides.

"You bastard! You fucker! You asshole!" Stacy spat and cried, struggling frantically as Neil dragged her back, but it was no use. She was thrown back onto the couch, and Sharon once again held her down. This time, Neil also stood beside the couch, ready for any further trouble. Stacy brought her hands up to her face and began to cry.

Gary walked over and picked up his glasses. After examining them to make certain they were not damaged, he slipped them back on his face and looked across at Stacy. "That's fifty-five, now," he said mildly.

Stacy just stared at him with tear filled eyes. "You're crazy," she sobbed. "I won't do anything like that. I can't... you can't make me."

"Let me tell you the alternatives," Gary answered, resuming his earlier pacing. "If you refuse, we will send copies of that tape to every guy at school. We will post the still pictures- you haven't seen them yet, but I can tell you that they are every bit as revealing as the video- at suitable places around the school and the town. We will even try to sell them to some magazines, if we can." Stacy sobbed on the couch as he continued his litany of threats. "Then, we will release the cassette tapes of you buying the stolen test papers from Neil. In particular, we will see that Dr. Grossman will get a copy. I'm sure he will know what to do with it."

Stacy knew too: expulsion if she was lucky; criminal prosecution if she was not.

"On the other hand," Gary continued inexorably, "if you play our game, no one will have to know about these tapes and pictures. There are thirty-two weeks left in school; fifty fucks... fifty-five, rather, is barely more than three guys every two weeks. Easy. And no one would have to know; you could do it as discreetly as you liked." Stacy began to control her sobbing, and started listening seriously to what Gary was saying. "What's more, you don't even actually have to fuck every time. As long as they ejaculate somewhere in your body, we don't care where it is: cunt, ass, mouth... whatever."

Stacy sniffled loudly. How could he talk so calmly about such a terrible...

"Besides," he continued, "there are other rules. Other rules which should make it a little easier for you to reach fifty-five."

"O-other rules?" Stacy couldn't believe that she was beginning to consider playing along. Sharon squeezed her shoulder, as if in some bizarre form of encouragement.

"Teachers are worth ten," came the answer. "There must be at least one teacher. Female students are worth three each, and there must be at least one female student. As well, there must be at least one student fucked in each grade." Greenwood was a full high school, and thus held grades eight to twelve. The grade eights were only thirteen or fourteen years old. "The grade eight, nine and tens are worth two each."

Gary finished speaking and looked directly at Stacy, who had begun to cry again. "Do you understand?" he concluded with a question. Stacy nodded through her tears, unable to speak. "What will you do then? Play along, or do we release the tapes and pictures?"

The room fell silent, the question hanging in the air. Stacy was momentarily unable to form an answer. On the one hand, she would have to do all those awful things, but the alternative... the alternative was too terrible to contemplate. She would be ruined in Bakersville, both as a person and as a student. The only way out was to play along with their little game, and hope to pull it off without anyone finding out about it. 'Oh god,' she thought, her heart sinking. 'Fifty-five guys.'

Mutely, she looked up at Gary and nodded her assent; she would do it. Gary felt a wave of relief flood over him as she nodded her agreement, but only permitted a small smile to show on his face. Neil, on the other hand, laughed out loud, as did Sharon as their tension dissipated. There had always been the chance, however unlikely, that Stacy would refuse and then go to the police. Now, however, they had her; she would do as they ordered. This was going to be an interesting year.

Gary looked down on her as she sat forlorn on the couch, staring at the floor. She looked so upset and vulnerable sitting there. To Gary, she looked far more appealing in tears than she did when she was in her usual arrogant position at school. All those bitches needed to be taken down a peg or...

That gave Gary had an idea. It was time to test their control over her. As well, there was the small matter of her slapping his glasses across the room.

"Before we accept your agreement," he told her, "you should be punished for attacking me. We will not permit that from you."

Stacy looked up at him, drawn out of her private misery. "W-what do you mean?"

"I think you need a spanking," Gary told her. "Teach you a lesson."

Stacy stared in disbelief. "You must be joking." Even after everything she had just heard, she couldn't believe what he was saying.

Gary shook his head. "You say you're going to play along with our game, but a couple of minutes ago, you attacked me. How do we know you won't do it again? Why should we believe you? Your choices are simple: obey us, and take your punishment, or leave now and let us get on with the business of sending out the tapes. It'll probably take most of the weekend to make enough copies." Stacy started crying again- was there no end to her tears?- but inevitably nodded in submission.

"Good," Gary told her. "Stand up and pull down your pants." Trembling, Stacy obeyed, exposing her sleek, muscular legs and plain white panties. "Now go lie over Sharon's knees. She will administer the spanking." Stacy flushed red at this order, while Sharon laughed in delight. For a moment, it looked as if Stacy would refuse, but eventually she began to move around so she could lie across Sharon's legs as the younger girl sat on the couch. She moved slowly, taking small, awkward steps because of the pants which were bunched around her ankles, but eventually, she fell to her knees and stretched herself across Sharon's pudgy legs. Her ass was completely exposed.

Sharon needed no instructions. She put her left arm across the small of Stacy's back, and began vigorously spanking the exposed bottom. Before long, the air was filled with the sound of Stacy's cries and sobs, punctuated by the regular, merciless slapping sound of Sharon's hand being brought down hard on the now red flesh of Stacy's ass.

Gary tore his eyes away from the scene and looked at Neil, who was watching the action with his mouth wide open. There was a conspicuous bulge in his jeans. Well, Gary thought, why not? He instructed his friend to pull down his pants and take a seat beside Sharon on the couch. Neil did so, and was quickly in place. Stacy's face was now on his lap as she lay parallel to the couch across Sharon's legs. The crying teenager turned her head and squirmed to avoid Neil's engorged cock as it stood upright from his lap. Sharon had momentarily stopped spanking and was looking over with interest.

Gary reached down, and yanked Stacy's blonde hair, pulling her tear-stained face upward. "I think you know what you're going to do, here. We'll be generous and call this number one. Do you understand?" Stacy squirmed on Sharon's lap, but nodded. "Good girl. Sharon will keep spanking until Neil comes. When he does come, you take every drop." He released Stacy's hair, and her face fell back down onto Neil's lap. Gary gestured towards Sharon, and she began spanking again.

Stacy pulled her arms forward, and propped herself up slightly. She took Neil's cock in her mouth and began to suck and lick it. It was difficult not to jerk around with the spanking, but Stacy had a pretty good idea of what would happen to her if she were to touch Neil's cock with her teeth. Frantically, she sucked, moaning and gasping as her head slid up and down on Neil's penis, and Sharon laid into her ass. The pain from the spanking was getting more intense, but she was quieter now, as Neil's cock served as an efficient gag.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Neil jerked his hips upward and came, spurting wave after wave of hot, salty sperm into her mouth. She struggled to swallow it as ordered, her throat working frantically, but some of it leaked into her windpipe, causing her to cough. A wad of sperm was sent up into her nasal passages, and dribbled out of her nose. When she finally pulled her sweaty face up off of Neil's now flaccid cock, there was sperm trailing out of her mouth and nose, leaving a long strand connected to Neil's penis. Her ass was bright red and shiny where Sharon had been spanking.

"Smile," Gary called over. Dazed, Stacy moved her head to the right- pulling the strand of sperm along with her- just as Gary snapped a picture commemorating the event.

That was NUMBER ONE.

END PART THREE

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