The Serengeti Yeti

Stacy's Senior Year

by Parker

Part Nine

WARNING: This story contains any number of things which could cause offense: blackmail, humiliation, non-consensual intercourse, D&S and all that sort of good stuff. If you are offended by this kind of thing, STOP READING. This is not for you. Consider yourself warned.

Copyright 1993 (whatever that means). Feel free to spread as many copies about as you wish, but I would appreciate it if you would spread these copies in their original form along with the original attribution. I want all of the blame/credit; after all, I did all the work. That's all.

 

"Do you remember Peter Jenkins?"

Sharon looked up from her position on the bed, where she was skimming through the latest National Enquirer. Gary was sitting in front of his computer with an old Greenwood school yearbook open in his lap.

"Huh?"

"Jenkins," Gary repeated. "Peter Jenkins. He was in grade twelve when you were in grade nine." He turned and handed over the old school yearbook, pointing to a picture. "That guy. He went out for Stacy for a little while, but she broke up with him."

"Oh... that's right. He's the one who got so drunk at the Prom that he vomited all over himself; they had to throw him out."

"That's him." Gary took back the yearbook and gazed at the picture. "He was fucked up over Stacy for months: a real basket case."

Sharon glanced back at her National Enquirer for a moment, but then turned her attention back to her boyfriend. He must have something in mind, even if it was taking him a little while to get to it.

Gary just stared intently at the picture for a moment, saying nothing, and then went back to work on his computer.

"Yeah?"

Maybe a little prodding was necessary.

"Nothing special." He hit the return button on his computer, saving some work. That done, he turned back to Sharon.

"I heard he was working up in Point Hope."

Sharon waited silently for the other shoe to drop. This time, it was not long in coming.

"I was just thinking," he mused, gazing again at the yearbook, "that maybe we're being a little greedy, keeping Stacy to ourselves up here in Bakersville. Wouldn't it be nice if we could get him back together with his old high school flame... at least for one night?"

*****

NUMBER 52- 56

The game was over, and the players had long since showered up and left the building. Biff Talbot lead his four friends into the now-deserted locker room. Together, they made up the first-string offensive line of the Greenwood Bulldogs, the football team at Greenwood High. As offensive linemen, they had not been picked for their speed, dexterity or intelligence. No; they occupied the position they did on the football team because of their size. The smallest of them, Billy Paxter- "little Bill"- was 6'2" and weighed just over 240 lbs. He received a lot of ribbing on the team because of his size.

Being an offensive lineman, even a good one, was not a particularly glamorous position. It was pretty much all grunt work- "down-in-the-trenches" kind of stuff. The type of football that won games by attrition, not by spectacular solo efforts. Hence, all the attention... all the acclaim; all the girls went to the players in the flashier positions, such as the quarterbacks and wide receivers and the like.

Until today.

Grinning his big, stupid grin, Biff flipped open the door to one of the unused lockers at the end of the wall.

"Holy shit!"

Stacy flinched at the sudden brightness.

She had been crouched in the locker for almost three hours, ever since the end of the game when Barry Packard had hustled her into the locker room just as the final few moments expired on the clock. Barry hadn't been "using" her since early January, when he had started going steady with another girl at school, but he hadn't forgotten Stacy either. Particularly when Neil had "explained" a few things to him. At first, he had been a little depressed at the knowledge that Stacy had only been fucking him because she was being forced to do so. Then he got angry; the bitch wouldn't give him the time of day unless she had to! At least he was seeing Heather now. And, he thought, philosophically, Stacy was such a slut these days, he didn't really want to fuck her anymore. She was used goods. Who knew where her pussy had been?

Nevertheless, although he might not want her anymore for himself, he could always do favors for his buddies. Stacy hadn't complained when he told her what she was to do, not that it would have done her any good. He had been quite prepared to "insist". She had just stared down at the ground and nodded her head silently when he had told her what she was going to do; all five guys were "new meat" (Sharon's term). Each fuck would bring her closer to the end of her ordeal.

"Get in," Barry ordered, opening up a locker. "Hurry."

Stacy hesitated slightly- the locker was pretty small- but then she obeyed. Making certain she had a firm grip on the small flask (red wine this time), she wriggled ass-first into the locker, facing outwards. Her tight little cheerleading costume- green, sleeveless blouse and white skirt- rode up on her thighs, exposing her bare pussy to the open air. Barry, unable to resist, reached down and fondled it, slipping his middle finger into her snatch and wiggling it around. Stacy had not yet ingested any of the wine, and thus squirmed away. Barry didn't notice.

A few seconds later, Barry stepped back to take a look. Stacy was wedged backwards into the locker, crouched on the heels of her feet, with her thighs splayed open. 'Looking good' he thought. 'Just one more...'

"Hold on," he muttered, moving away out of Stacy's line of vision. Stacy waited nervously. The game must be over by now. Any moment there would be...

"Here we are."

Barry had returned with a couple of dildos a foot long,

"I know how hot you are," he muttered bending down. "I wouldn't want you to get lonely down here while you're waiting." He reached under her crotch and slowly inserted one of the dildos handles into her dry pussy. Stacy squealed and tried to wriggle away, but the silver tube slid quickly up into her pussy until about eight inches of it was lost from view. Barry propped it up on the base of the locker. Stacy tried to push herself away, but was only able to move up about four inches before her head hit the top of the locker; she was now effectively impaled on the handle until she left the enclosed space.

Leering, Barry passed the other to her.

"This is for your mouth," Barry instructed her. "When my buddies open this locker, I expect you to be tonguing it the way you sucked my cock a couple of months ago."

Stacy looked up at him from where she crouched in the locker, her eyes watering with humiliation. "If not," he continued, unrelenting, "I'll have to complain to Sharon." He smirked at her. " We wouldn't want that, would we?"

A tear trickled down Stacy's cheek as she nodded.

"How about a demonstration?" Barry suggested.

Stacy hesitated momentarily, but then brought the handle up to her mouth and began tonguing and licking it. She closed her eyes as she did so, trying to imagine that it was a real cock; that she was anywhere but here...

FLASH!

Stacy's eyes flew open. Barry was standing in front of her with a Polaroid camera. He took another picture while she stared at him in panic and then lowered the camera.

"Looking good," he laughed.

Stacy turned red, but continued sucking hungrily at the handle as she had been ordered to do.

Still laughing, Barry moved forward and slammed shut the locker door. Inside, Stacy pulled the handled out of her mouth and reached down for the thermos, wincing as the slight movement caused the unwelcome visitor in her pussy to grind itself in a little further.

Stacy had remained in the cramped confines of the locker for the next three hours before Biff and the rest of the linemen arrived. It had been quite hot in the locker room, particularly as the boys were showering, and by the end of the three hours, her entire body was damp with sweat. Her skirt was bunched up at her waist, and the shirt of the cheerleading outfit, never all that concealing in the first place, was now plastered to her upper body, clearly revealing her rock-hard nipples.

She had gone through most of the wine in the thermos, more from thirst than anything else, and she was almost unbearably horny. More than once during her stay in the locker, she had been tempted to burst out and grab one of the cocks that floated so temptingly across her limited field of vision (there were small ventilation slits in the front of the locker), but common sense- and a good dose of fear- had won out. There were over twenty boys in the locker room. And she still had some pride left. Her sluttishness was not yet common knowledge at Greenwood, and she desperately wanted to keep it that way. Only another fifteen or so guys to fuck.

So, in the end, she had to settle for sliding up and down on the now-slippery handle Barry had stuck in her pussy. By doing so and wriggling around as much as she could, she managed to bring on several small orgasms in the course of the three hours as the boys of the football team showered and changed, unsuspecting, all around her. At one point, she was afraid that her moans would give her away, but she was unable to stop herself from sliding up and down on the metal "cock".

So instead, she stuck the second handle in her mouth and began to suck, thus muffling any noises she might have made. Three hours passed slowly...

"Holy shit!"

Stacy Richards squinted up at the surprised football players from inside the locker. Her cheerleading outfit was plastered to her sweat-soaked body. Her pussy, clearly displayed from in between her splayed thighs, sucked hungrily at the shiny metal cylinder as she slide herself up and down on it. Her hands clutched another metal cylinder- barbell handle, Biff realized- and slid it suggestively in and out of her mouth, between her shiny, wet lips. Her charm bracelet jingled quietly as she moved the metal handle up and down, all the while making quiet moaning sounds around the object in her mouth.

Biff tore his eyes away from this incredible sight and turned to his equally stunned friends.

"Guys," he chortled, "I give you... Stacy Richards. She's ours for the evening."

"Jesus."

They couldn't believe it. Stacy Richards; the Stacy Richards who had been flaunting herself in front of them from the sidelines these last three years; the Stacy Richards who had teased them, yet only gone out with the quarterbacks and other stars; the Stacy Richards of their dreams. Bill moved forward first, reaching into the locker.

"Wait," Biff told him. Barry had given him some instructions. "Just wait a second."

Biff moved forward and looked down on Stacy. She looked back up at him, tears of humiliation burning in her large, green eyes; tears of humiliation... and something else. He reached down and gently took away the barbell handle she had been sucking on. She moaned softly, but didn't resist as he slid it out from between her lips.

"Stacy," he said quietly, "is there something you'd like to say?" Despite what Barry had told him, Biff still couldn't really believe she would say it. Once again, he was surprised.

"Fuck me," she moaned, eyes closing as she ground the second handled deeper and deeper into her sopping pussy. "I need your cocks."

This was enough for the guys, and they surged forward. Biff, however, held them back again. One more thing...

"What do you say?" he asked the desperate girl.

She looked up at him for a few moments, but then glanced away, unable to meet his eyes.

"Please..."

"What? I didn't hear you."

Stacy looked up at him, lips parted. "Please," she said, her voice louder. "Please fuck me. I need you all; I n-need your cocks in me. Please fuck me... p-please shoot your sperm into me. Please..."

And they did.

*****

Friday afternoon. 3:45 PM. The school cafeteria was almost empty, as most of the students at Greenwood had, typically, declined the opportunity to hang around the school after classes. The weekend beckoned, and, with the wonderful late spring weather, the beach was exerting its almost magnetic pull on the teenagers of Bakersville.

The cafeteria was not, however, completely deserted. Three students sat, quietly talking, in a corner table. Gary, as usual, did most of the talking. He was also the one who handed out the latest round of money from the sale of pictures to various magazines. May had been a good month for them as far as picture sales went. Stacy had now unwittingly adorned the pages of over a dozen magazines across the country, with more to come. It was only a matter of time before she found out- before someone in Bakersville saw some of the pictures and spread the news- but they didn't really care. Their time with Stacy was nearly done anyway.

The main cafeteria door opened and Karen walked in, followed closely by Ashley. The two girls had spent more and more time together over the last six weeks as Karen tightened her hold over the older girl. Like Stacy, Ashley was the victim of blackmail, and, as had been the case with Stacy, events had quickly moved beyond her control. Since the incident which put her in this vulnerable position in the first place, there had been any number of events which had deepened Karen's hold on her. All Ashley could think of was the end of the school year and freedom. All Karen could think of was how nice it was to have such a beautiful girl as Ashley as a personal slave, and how hard it would be to give it up.

If she gave her up...

"Wait here," Karen ordered, moving towards her three friends in the corner. Obediently, but not without a flash of anger, the tall brunette sat down on a bench near the door.

"What's up?" Karen asked as she approached. "Neil said you wanted to meet."

"Just the final plans for tomorrow night," Sharon told her. "The football party." She looked over at where Ashley sat, staring at the floor. "Everything's cool with her? Did she cause any problems?"

Karen plopped herself down beside Neil. "No," she answered. "No problem. We'll be there."

"Great," Sharon smiled. "I've got the perfect costume picked out; the guys are gonna love her." Neil chuckled at this, but Karen only frowned.

"Listen," she said tentatively, "she's not gonna get... you know... hurt or anything like that?"

"Ha," Neil laughed. "Just get her brains fucked out. That's all."

"No," Karen ignored him. "I mean like, beaten, or... well... you know."

"Huh uh," Sharon shook her head. "Nothing like that. It's just a party; the guys on the football team at BCN just want to celebrate the end of the season with a big blow out. Stacy was such a big hit the last time, they want her back again." Sharon looked over at Gary who didn't react. "I offered them Ashley as well because you said you wanted the money. They were willing to pay twice as much for two girls."

Karen looked undecided.

"There's not a problem with that, is there?" Gary asked. Karen looked over at Gary, meeting his intense stare for a few moments and then looking away.

"No," she answered finally. "I just don't want her hurt. That's all."

The table fell silent for a few moments.

"OK then," Sharon stated. "That's settled. You'll meet us at my house at eight to get the girls dressed."

"Yeah," Karen told her, getting to her feet. "We'll be there." This said, she turned and walked away towards the waiting Ashley. She walked straight past her and out the door. After a confused glance at the three teenagers in the corner, Ashley scrambled to her feet and followed her out.

"What was that all about?" Neil muttered.

"Dunno." Sharon shrugged her shoulders.

Gary laughed. His two friends turned towards him. "It's spring," he explained, grinning.

"Huh?"

"You know," Gary insisted. "Spring. Birds and bees and that sort of thing."

His two friends stared at him, blank looks on their faces.

Gary sighed.

"I think our Karen is falling in love..."

*****

When Peter Jenkins had called to invite her to a party up in Point Hope, Stacy had jumped at the opportunity. Peter was two years older than her, and had been a senior at Greenwood when Stacy had been in grade ten. They had gone steady for a little while- about nine dates altogether- but Stacy had eventually dumped him when the current captain of the football team had expressed an interest in her. She had never really seen much of Peter after that; she knew that he didn't get another girlfriend that year, but never really thought about it. In her mind, the split-up had been entirely natural, and, if it bothered him, well... he'd just have to grow up a bit, wouldn't he?

Thus, when he called her up, she had not hesitated to accept his invitation. He had moved to the nearby town of Point Hope after graduation, where he worked as a clerk in a department store. For Stacy, it represented the chance to get away from her present situation; to go to a party with people who didn't know her and wouldn't force her to have sex with them. It sounded perfect.

She even bought a new dress for the occasion. A sleeveless green dress with little ruffles on the shoulders. It matched her eyes perfectly, and, she thought, it made her look a bit like a little girl. She had made a mental note to do her hair up into a pony tail. It was the sort of look which used to drive the guys wild back when she had enjoyed that sort of teasing. Now, of course, she was obliged, as often as not, to put out, so the cock-teasing was not as much fun as it used to be.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, she could be her old self. No one in Point Hope knew her or went to Greenwood. It would be just like old times.

Peter showed up at 7:00 PM as planned. It was almost a two hour drive to Point Hope, so he wanted to leave fairly early. She had been ready a good fifteen minutes before he arrived, but she still kept him waiting downstairs for almost half an hour; it was just like old times.

He hadn't changed much. Always rather short, the last couple of years had seen his body fill out quite a bit until he was beginning to show a bit of pudginess. Obviously, the clerking job at the department store didn't involve much physical activity. Stacy felt herself sneering a bit as he led her out to his car- a somewhat battered Toyota Tercel; he was turning into a bit of a slob. The way he looked now, he couldn't be getting too much in the way of attention from any girls; that was probably why he had turned to his old high school girlfriend for a date at this party. No doubt he'd be so overwhelmed at having such a beautiful date as herself, he'd do whatever she wanted. What a schmuck!

The drive up the coast to Point Hope was not particularly scenic. The only real nice part of the drive came just as they passed by the Point Hope Maximum Security Penitentiary and crested the hill leading down into the town itself. Point Hope was a quiet little town nestled against the beach below the sandstone cliffs. The view from the top of the hill was little short of spectacular.

Stacy, however, had seen it all before. Besides, she was having too much fun annoying Peter. The two hour drive had been marked by small talk and long silences, but Stacy had quickly discovered that Peter was still easily upset by talk of their brief relationship a couple years earlier in high school. He had flushed an angry red when she had brought it up earlier in the trip, and had, since then, shut up almost entirely. Stacy, however, was enjoying herself immensely. She made a point of bringing it up as often as possible. By the time they arrived at the party, she was in a great mood, and Peter was quiet and sullen.

Peter fought to remain patient as he led Stacy up the walk to the front door. This had better be worth it!

He had received a phone call from a guy- some kid- at Greenwood, telling him something about Stacy's recent activities, and about her "weakness" for alcohol. The caller had suggested that once she had a couple of drinks in her, she would do anything, and that 'wouldn't it be nice if the two of them got back together for a date.'

Peter wasn't sure if he believed him, but it was worth a try. Stacy had been an incredible bitch to him in high school, and any chance to get even was well worth attempting.

Since the phone call, he had been experiencing this recurring fantasy...

Stacy quickly realized that she was overdressed for the party. Most of the guests seemed to be blue collar workers from a local fish packing plant; the majority of them wore nothing more fancy than jeans and tee-shirts. Stacy was the only woman there in a dress. She was also the only one young enough to be in high school.

Peter immediately brought her a glass of punch. When she sipped at it, Stacy discovered that it was a bit strong for her taste, but not too bad. She took another, longer, drink from the glass. The way things were shaping up at the party, a couple of drinks might well be called for. The whole idea of coming to this party with her ex-boyfriend was beginning to look like a bad idea. A little alcohol never hurt anyone; she finished the drink. Peter brought her another one and stood talking with her while she finished that one as well.

He asked her to dance.

At first, everything went well. The music was up-tempo and the dancing was fun, despite her inappropriate dress. After a while, though, she began to feel a bit queasy. It must have been the punch. In fact, she realized suddenly, if felt a little like...

A new song started. A slow song.

Peter pulled her close, into his chest; instinctively, she draped her bare arms over his shoulders and they began to dance, slowly revolving around the dance floor. As they danced, Stacy began to experience the now-familiar feeling of disassociation as the room started to spin. She closed her eyes and held on to Peter's shoulders, trying to fight off the dizziness. The music and other noise in the room seemed to recede into the background. The drug! They had drugged her; Gary must have arranged this.

Panicked, Stacy tried to disentangle herself, but she was unable to do so. Her limbs failed to respond properly, and it was all she could do to hold onto her dance partner in order to keep herself from sinking to the floor. Around and around they went, each revolution sending Stacy's perception spinning, until all she was aware of in the room was Peter. There was nothing else; just a blur of sound and a solid object she could hang onto.

She felt the warm tingling begin in her groin.

"Stacy..."

A voice! Her eyes opened and struggled to focus on the face in front of her. Peter? Everything else was a blur.

"Do you remember going out with me in high school?"

Remember? Of course she remembered. Stacy nodded in the affirmative, still trying to focus. Why was he asking? The tingle in her groin grew stronger.

"We went on nine dates," Peter murmured to her. "Nine dates..."

Stacy felt one of his hands leave her shoulder, slide down the back of her dress and latch onto her ass. She felt that she should make some objection, but...

"And all I got was one kiss," the voice continued. "One kiss..."

The blonde teenager tried to focus on what Peter was saying, but the hand on her butt was making concentration difficult. She felt the hand pull away...

"One kiss..."

...and begin pulling the zipper of her dress down her back. She tried to wriggle free, but her arms remained wrapped around Peter's shoulders.

"I don't think that's fair. Do you?"

"N-no." Stacy discovered that she could speak, although even her own voice seemed distant to her. The zipper was now all the way down, and she could feel the cool air of the room on the small of her back. The feelings of arousal increased, spreading up from her crotch into her belly. Involuntarily, she ground her lower body against Peter as the dance continued.

"So," Peter continued, "we're going to work through those dates now. All nine of them. As they should have been."

Stacy tried to shake her head, no. Not here; she wanted him to take her to a bedroom or something... do what he wanted there, but not here. Not in front of...

"First date," he whispered, his tongue licking out at her hear. "A kiss would be nice."

Retreating from her ear, he brought his lips down against hers. She moaned softly, parting her lips, but he quickly pulled away. That felt so good, but not here. Please, not here.

"Second date," he continued. One of the straps of the dress slid off a shoulder. She tried to shrug it back on, but it just slipped further down her arm.

"Maybe some tongue."

This time, he thrust his tongue into her willing mouth. She kissed back, unable to do anything else as a wave of lust surged through her body. Oh god...

The kiss broke, but the dance continued.

The dance continued through the "third date", where he copped a feel of her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Her nipples hardened immediately when he ran his fingers over them.

On the "fourth date", he removed her bra, unclipping it from behind her back and sliding it off. By now, her dress had slid down off the other shoulder, uncovering her back all the way down to the top of her ass and leaving her breasts partly exposed...

More of the same on the "fifth date". Some heavy necking while mauling at her now almost-naked breasts. By now, Stacy was panting with lust, all thought of where she was and who she was with having fled her mind. All that mattered was...

The dance. She missed what he said on the "sixth date", but by the end of the "seventh", she was grinding her crotch against him with abandon...

"Eighth date," he panted, hoarse. "It's time you felt my cock."

She didn't need to be told twice. Groaning with lust, she disentangled one arm from around his neck and reached down to his crotch. With an ease born of much practice, she pulled down the zipper and slide his cock free of his pants. It was already damp and rigid...

"Ninth date," he gasped. "You need to be fucked." He looked at her. "Beg for it."

"Please fuck me," she moaned. "I need to be fucked. Please put your lovely cock into me, Peter. Fill me up. Please..."

Peter could take no more. He had been dreaming of this moment for over two years. With a cry, he shoved her back against the wall, pulled one of her legs up, and shoved his cock straight into her dripping pussy. The dress, bunched up at the waist to allow him access to her pussy, fell forward, abandoning any pretense of covering her breasts.

Stacy didn't care.

Holding onto his shoulders, she wrapped both legs around Peter's ass and fucked him right back as he drove her again and again against the wall. She drooled and slobbered and squirmed out her lust, all the time moaning and crying for him to fuck her harder.

He obliged...

The last trembling vestige of orgasm rippled though her beaten body. Groggy, she looked up from the floor where she sat, propped against the wall. Just as she did so, a flash went off... and then another.

Dazed, the blonde teenager looked around. She was lying, practically naked, against the wall, her green dress a shapeless mess around her waist. A group of people- the guests at the party- were standing around, looking down on her and laughing. A few of them had cameras and were using them. She heard the word "slut" and "whore" coming up in conversation.

Were they talking about her?

Just as had happened before, the orgasm seemed to have burned away the effects of the drugs, leaving Stacy clear-headed and sober. Sobbing with embarrassment, she stumbled to her feet, breasts bobbing merrily, clutching her dress around her as the crowd laughed.

Another flash went off.

The dress didn't seem torn, and she quickly had it back over her tits, but she was unable to zip it up on her own. Eyes downward, she pushed her way through the crowd, looking for...

"Peter!"

He was standing with a couple of guys near the entrance to the kitchen, drinking a beer. "What... what are you..."

He looked over at her and smirked. "I'd heard that you had become quite a slut since my days at Greenwood. I just wanted to see if it was true."

Stacy stopped talking and began to cry. Yet another flash went off.

"Stop it," she cried, spinning around to strike out at whoever was taking the picture. The blow missed, however, and she succeeded only in letting the front of her dress flop forward again. Two pictures were taken of her re-exposed breasts before she was able to cover up.

Furious, she turned back to Peter. "Take me home," she ordered. "Now."

Peter just laughed. "Are you kidding? Get home yourself, you slut." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. "Take this," he said, handing it to her. "There's a bus depot just down the block. There are buses to Bakersville every couple of hours."

Stunned, she held the ten dollar bill in her hand, staring at him. Eventually, she turned and stumbled through the laughing crowd to the door, still holding her unzipped dress around her.

"And Stacy," Peter called out from behind her.

She turned; maybe he was going to give her a ride after all.

"You were worth every penny."

The crowd roared with laughter as Stacy, tears running down her face, ran out into the cool night air...

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

Stacy recognized the house.

She had been there once before; the night of the "party" she had attended. The party with the guys from BCN. She blushed furiously as she remembered what she could of the events of that night; the sight of the house brought them flooding back over her in a wave of shame. Stacy looked at Ashley sitting beside her in the back seat of Sharon's car. Ashley glared back at her. Ever since what had happened last January- when Stacy had done her part to render Ashley vulnerable to the blackmail- Ashley had refused to have anything to do with Stacy. Stacy didn't blame her. She just wanted the girl to drink the alcohol; to prepare herself.

She didn't know yet. She didn't know what was going to happen inside the house. Perhaps that was why she was so reluctant to drink when Sharon had handed them the thermos. This time, it contained some sort of wine cooler. Stacy had sucked hungrily at the alcohol. She had a pretty good idea of what would be expected of them that night, and knew that she would need all the help she could get from Gary's drugs. Ashley, not really understanding what was going on, took a couple of sips when Stacy handed it over, but had to be ordered by Sharon before she would drink any more. Karen was also in the car- in the front seat beside Sharon- but she was strangely quiet. She just sat there in silence, staring straight ahead out the front window.

"OK," Sharon ordered brightly, "let's go."

She opened her door and slid out of the car. Stacy and Ashley followed suit, but Karen remained where she was. Sharon bent down and looked at her.

"You sure you don't want to come in?" she asked. "It'll be fun." Karen shook her head and looked away.

Sharon just shrugged her shoulders and closed the door. Gesturing at the two other girls to follow her, she began walking up towards the house.

The large living room had clearly been specially arranged for the party. Most of the furniture had been moved out, leaving only a big, yellow couch in the center of the space. Instead of the tables, chairs and other bits of furniture that had been there a few months ago, the boys had laid out a bunch of bare mattresses. The BCN Barracudas had just finished up a winning season, and the guys were ready to party. They were crowded around the big couch- all fourteen of them- beers in hand, waiting for the big entrance. Sharon smirked at them as she stood by the door. Perfect. Time to get the show on the road.

"Gentlemen," she cried out theatrically over the catcalls and hooting, "I give you your entertainment for the evening. May I present..." She swung open the door. "Cumslut, who some of you know from before..."

Stacy- Cumslut- entered the room. She was wearing a short black miniskirt and bright pink tank top. A pair of black stockings ran from just below the hem of the skirt down to her feet, which had been forced into bright red, four inch pumps. She was having some trouble walking in them, but Sharon had insisted. In fact, Sharon had fastened shut the ankle strap with a small lock; Stacy would be wearing the pumps until Sharon chose to unlock them. Her hair was combed out, flowing down over her bare shoulders in a blonde wave, and her face was made up in the same overdone, sluttish manner it had been done the first time she had been here. She tried to force a smile and look sexy as she entered the room, following Sharon's instructions, but it wasn't easy. Thankfully, the drug was starting to have its customary affect on her, and she began to feel the familiar, welcome tingle in her crotch.

"...and Melons."

Ashley- Melons- followed close behind, wearing even less than Stacy. All she had on was a red garter belt, which held up a set of black, fishnet stockings. Her outfit was completed by a pair of pink lace panties and a black, pushup bra. Her breasts, always her most prominent feature, jutted out magnificently, the nipples clearly visible over the top of the bra. Like Stacy, she also wore a pair of four inch pumps, locked onto her feet by the ankle strap. Ashley also tried to smile and look sexy, but was unable to manage anything other than a frightened grimace. She was feeling nothing from the alcohol they had been given to drink. There was no comfortable disassociation or warm tingling in her pussy.

Just fear.

With a cheer of approval, the members of the BCN Barracudas surged forward to begin their party.

It had been a good season for Terry Brooks. A freshman at BCN, he had quickly found both a place on the first string of the Barracudas and acceptance at the almost all-white school. Terry, a tall wiry black boy from Oregon, had been expecting things to be difficult at BCN, but that hadn't proved to be the case. Everything had come together nicely. First, a place on the team; then a winning season with him as the star receiver; and now this: prime white teenage pussy. The kind of thing he could only dream of at home. God, he loved California! Utilizing the speed which had made him a star on the football field, he was the first to reach Cumslut, the short blonde one. He liked them blonde; young, blonde and horny.

Like this one.

He threw his arm around her and crushed his lips to hers. She responded almost immediately, her tongue welcoming his into the wet confines of her mouth. While they kissed, he slipped his other hand down, under the miniskirt and up into her crotch. She wasn't wearing any panties. He slid his finger into her pussy; it was already wet. She moaned into his mouth as they kissed.

What a slut!

Unable to hold himself back, Terry pushed her down backwards onto a mattress and climbed aboard. She fell back, legs spread invitingly. He fumbled at his zipper until his cock hung free. It was hard and ready for action. Cumslut gasped as he fell onto her and jammed it into all the way into her cunt with one powerful surge of his hips.

Almost immediately, she began to pump against him, trying to suck it in even further.

Stacy felt the orgasm hit just as the black guy came. The feel of his warm sperm boiling out into her pussy sent her over the edge into a rising wave of pleasure that overwhelmed all other considerations. All thoughts of shame, humiliation or pain were washed away in the screaming, writhing, crushing surge of ecstasy which slammed through her beautiful body. Gasping and writhing, Stacy screamed her pleasure until she crested the top and began to settle back down.

The black guy, a strange look on his face, pulled out of her and pushed himself to his feet.

"Fucking hell," he called over his shoulder as he backed away, "she's a hot bitch."

In the back of her mind, Stacy realized she should be feeling something at this, but couldn't remember what it was. All she knew right now was that she needed some more cock. Now! The guys were more than obliging. Almost immediately, she was dragged onto her hands and knees, and a cock stuck into her sopping pussy. She ground her tight ass back to meet the impaling thrusts of the guy fucking her.

Another cock appeared in front of her face. Instinctively, she grabbed at it and began sucking...

Sharon laughed as she watched Stacy writhe on the floor under the black guy. She was observing the event through the viewfinder of her father's camcorder. The guys at BCN had been a little hesitant at her filming their party, but when she offered them the girls at half price, they had quickly agreed. As well, Sharon had assured them that the video was only for personal use. And, of course, she had promised them a copy.

She continued to film as Stacy's moans and cries got louder and more passionate. Finally, Stacy writhed and screamed her way through the biggest orgasm Sharon had ever seen; all captured for posterity...

Ashley turned and tried to run as the guys from the football team surged towards her, but she was unable to move effectively in the high-heels. She stumbled against a wall, and was quickly caught. The football player who grabbed her was obviously a lineman of some sort; he was well over six feet tall and must have weighed close to 300 pounds. He spun her around to face him and began to paw at her tits as they jutted invitingly over the skimpy pushup bra.

"Melons, huh?" he grunted, a stupid grin on his face. His breath smelled of beer.

"P-please..." Ashley began to whimper in fright. All Sharon's instructions about how she was to behave... all the warnings about blackmail and pictures fled from her mind. All that mattered was getting away from this nightmare.

The lineman moved one hand down and began to scratch roughly at her crotch. Ashley, now crying, dropped her hands from where they had been trying to protect her breasts and pushed at the offending hand, but it was no use. Ignoring her attempts to stop him, he grabbed at her panties and jerked them away from her crotch. The delicate elastic held for a moment, but then snapped. The useless panties were quickly dropped to the floor.

"Please," Ashley whispered, trying to steady herself against the wall. She tried to slide away, but she was unable to get any purchase on ground with the pumps.

The guy slid his cock free from his pants. It was rock hard.

"OK, Melons," he sneered, "here it comes."

Ignoring her cries, he inserted his cock into her dry pussy and began to push. Pinned, standing against the wall, the tall brunette could only wriggle in pain as the cock ground, inch by painful inch, into her cunt.

Finally, it was fully inserted. Grunting with effort, he started to fuck it in and out of her as she stood against the wall, moaning and crying on the impaling cock.

Sharon filmed Stacy for a few moments more as the blonde teenager eagerly accommodated the two cocks, one in her mouth and one in her ass, and then stopped the camera. They had more than enough material on Stacy; it was time they got a little more on Ashley. Despite all that they had done for her, Karen had been less then forthcoming about her activities with the brunette, and Sharon wanted some dirt of her own. She looked over at the other girl.

Ashley was pinned with her back against the wall, being fucked by a hulking brute of a football player. Sharon brought the camera up and began filming just as he came. Ashley wriggled around like a fish on a hook as her cunt was filled with his sperm and then fell limply to the floor when he pulled away.

The guy was immediately replaced by another "customer". Ashley was pulled onto a mattress, rolled on her back and then impaled by another cock while two other guys held her long legs spread wide. Unlike Stacy, however, Ashley was clearly not having a good time. She screamed and struggled as the football player pumped his cock in and out of her pussy. Her fists were futilely smacking against his muscular back as he fucked her, unaware or uncaring of her response.

Sharon stopped filming.

There was no point in filming a rape. The stuff with Stacy was safe, as she was so obviously participating, but Ashley was clearly being forced. While Sharon had no problem with that (in fact, she kind of enjoyed it), such a tape could land them all in jail.

She bit her lip as the older girl was brutally raped in front of her. Why was the drug not working on her?

The cock twitched and then spurted warm, sticky sperm all over her face, but Stacy didn't care. She just wanted more. By now, she had serviced at least six guys: two in her cunt, another three, four or maybe five in her hot, sucking mouth. Stacy didn't care. She just wanted more. Her mouth hung open, tongue extended, waiting for another cock to fill it up. She felt another guy kneel down behind her. Spreading her thighs, the blonde slut leaned back, her pussy aching to be filled. Instead, she felt the cock push against her ass cheeks and then into her ass itself. But Stacy didn't care; she just wanted more. Squealing with pleasure, she eased herself back, impaling her nether-hole on the cock. She heard the guy groan as he began to pump himself in and out.

Moaning with lust, she reached up a hand and began to use her fingers to scrape the cum from her face and slide it into her mouth.

"God, what a slut!"

But Stacy didn't care...

Cumslut didn't care...

The brunette- "Melons" the fat girl had called her- tried to scramble away off the mattress after Jeff had finished with her, but two guys grabbed her and held her down on her back. She kicked and screamed, but was unable to fight her way free.

Billy "Headhunter" Hawkins looked down on her as she wriggled madly on the mattress. Her pussy looked red, raw from Jeff's recent assault (Jeff was one well-hung dude! Wasn't that the truth). One of her massive tits had popped free from the questionable protection of the bra, and floppy freely as the girl struggled to free herself.

"Well shee-it," he drawled. "Looks like Melons here needs a cock up her cunt."

Melons stopped struggling and looked up, her eyes wide with horror as the beefy linebacker undid his belt and let his pants slip down to his ankles. His cock, its tip already glistening, hung down in front of him.

"Looks good, huh girl?" Hawkins played with it, stroking it to its full size. It didn't take long. "Ten inches of prime Mississippi man-meat."

"Please..."

Laughing, Hawkins lowered himself to his knees and fell forward on top of her, crushing her breasts beneath his great weight. It only took a moment before his cock was inside of her tight, warm pussy...

Something snapped.

Maybe it was the cock in her asshole. Maybe it was the taste and feel of the sperm which half-covered her face. But, something snapped.

A sudden, overwhelming wave of orgasms rumbled up from her battered pussy and washed over her abused body as the lone cock sawed in and out of her ass. Screaming wildly, Stacy- Cumslut- thrashed about, orgasm after orgasm shooting through her. The guy riding her asshole could only grab onto her thighs and hold on as she bucked wildly beneath him...

Hawkins looked up from where he was fucking brunette.

She was no longer fighting, having given up the struggle as another guy- Stadler, the center- had shoved his cock between those gorgeous lips and into her pleading mouth. She just lay there now, limp and accepting as the two football players fucked her helpless body.

Someone was screaming.

Hawkins stopped moving- leaving his cock buried deep inside Melon's tight teenage cunt- and squinted across the room to see what was happening. Stadler, however, ignored screaming; he just continued sliding his spit-glistening cock in and out of the brunette's mouth.

It was the blonde slut. She was bucking and screaming while Pete Brindle held on for dear life.

"YES... YES... YES..."

She seemed almost crazed as she bounced up and down under Pete's dead weight. Finally, the football player was able to hold on no longer. His grip on her sweaty thigh slipped free, and he was thrown off. His cock flapped wildly in the air as he rolled off the mattress and slammed into the couch.

The girl stopped thrashing as the cock left her ass and started to look about frantically, her green eyes wild with lust and her left hand sawing in and out of her dripping pussy.

"Cocks," she cried. "I need cocks... fuck me; fuck me... pleeeeeeeeeze..." She looked about, but everyone in the room was frozen with shock.

Frustrated, she fell back on her ass and spread her legs invitingly.

"Please fuck me," she begged. Her other hand was now playing roughly with her breasts. "Fuck Cumslut... fuck Cumslut..." She continued to masturbate, muttering to herself as she reached another, smaller, orgasm.

"Please,"she begged quietly, shuddering in the aftermath of the orgasm. "Please fuck me... fuck Cumslut..."

Sharon watched open-mouthed as Stacy writhed sluttishly on the mattress, mewling quietly and pleading to be fucked. She would never have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own...

THE CAMERA!

Sharon looked down at the video camera as it hung uselessly at her side. Fuck. Gary would kill her!

She looked up. The room had gone silent as everyone stared at the blonde teenager on the mattress. Stacy was now scraping cum from her tits and licking it off her fingers. Even the player fucking Ashley had stopped moving. The only movement from the room came from the big guy pumping is cock in and out of Ashley's mouth. He had his eyes closed, and seemed to be off in his own world, as he fucked the beautiful brunette's face.

No one else moved.

'Christ,' Sharon thought. 'I'd better do something quick before the whole night's ruined.'

A groan came from the other end of the room. The guy fucking Ashley's mouth finally came, shooting sperm into her mouth and then onto her outraged face as she tried to turn away. She coughed and choked, but wouldn't swallow.

The guy looked up, opening his eyes. Everyone was staring at him except Ashley, who was busy coughing up his sperm.

"Jeez," he muttered, puzzled at the attention.

Sharon had an idea.

"OK," she cried, quickly moving forward to the center of the room. "So much for round one."

All eyes in the room now turned to her. Nervous, she looked about the room. Ahh... there it was.

"Pull that coffee table over," she ordered. Two of the football players obliged. The coffee table had been slid up against the wall at the back of the living room. It stood just over two feet off the ground and was about four feet long. The guys set it down in front of her.

"Good," she stated. "Now bring the sluts over here."

The guy who had been fucking Ashley pulled out and dragged her to her feet. The tall brunette stumbled on the high-heels, but was able to remain upright as he dragged her across the room to the coffee table. Sharon pushed Ashley down on her knees at one end of the table, facing over the table-top. When Ashley was in position, Sharon pushed the top of her body downwards, so her upper body was lying flat across the top of the table.

"OK, now..." Sharon turned, but no one had moved to get Stacy. Everyone seemed a little spooked by her. She had been left by herself on the mattress as she rubbed her fingers over her inflamed pussy and muttered to herself.

"C'mon Cumslut," Sharon called at her. Stacy looked up. "Here Cumslut." Sharon talked to her as if she were a dog. "C'mon. Come get fucked."

"Fucked?"

That got her attention. Scrambling awkwardly to her feet, Stacy stumbled over to the coffee table. Sperm dripped from her mouth and pussy as Sharon placed her, kneeling, opposite Ashley across the coffee table. When she pushed the squirming girl down onto the top of the table, Stacy's and Ashley's faces met almost exactly halfway across.

"Anyone got a couple of belts?" In short order, two belts had been produced, and Sharon used them to secure the two girls into position by wrapping them around their lower backs and under the coffee table.

Sharon leaned forward.

"OK sluts," she whispered. "Lets see some lezzie stuff. The guys need warming up."

Almost immediately, Stacy reached up (as best she could, strapped in as she was) and cupped Ashley's face in her hands. The brunette tried to pull away, but her movement was restricted by the belt, and she was unable to get free. Slowly and gently, Stacy pushed her face forward and planted a soft kiss on Ashley's cum-stained lips.

Ashley quit struggling as she felt Stacy's lips, soft and warm, on her own. She knew it was wrong, but it felt so good! Particularly after all the rough treatment she had been experiencing. Almost involuntarily, she parted her sticky lips and moaned softly as Stacy's wet tongue slid into her mouth and began exploring. In moments, the two girls were kissing passionately, their tongues entwined. After the repeated, brutal rapes of the past forty-five minutes, it seemed like heaven to Ashley. The gentleness of the other girl's lips sent shivers of pleasure shooting through her abused body.

The spell was broken when Ashley heard the guys start cheering. She opened her eyes; both her and Stacy looked around in panic as the members of the football team formed lines behind them and, one at a time, slid their re-aroused cocks into the girls' pussies. Ashley started to struggle at this new invasion, but Stacy brought her hands up and cupped her face.

"Relax," the blonde teenager whispered. "It's easier."

Ashley started to spit out a retort, but was cut off by the feel of Stacy's lips once again meeting hers. The brunette closed her eyes and tried to relax; shutting out the world- shutting out the sharp pain in her asshole as one of the players brutally rammed his cock in- as if nothing else existed other than this beautiful girl in front of her.

As if nothing else mattered other than the feel of her soft, velvety lips as they writhed against her own...

Hawkins watched, gently massaging his cock, as the two teenage sluts necked together while simultaneously getting their asses reamed out by one guy after another. Jesus, it was hot! He didn't, however, join the queue. He had unfinished business with the brunette- Melons- and wanted to make sure he had her full attention when he fucked her. He could see the way Ashley's senses were closed to the world while his teammates fucked her ass and cunt. Not like the blonde bitch. She was hot. She was moaning and wriggling back against each cock as it impaled her from behind. As far as he could tell, she had come at least four times since the fat girl had belted her down to the coffee table. She was really into the lezbo stuff too; her and Melons were going at it like a pair of bitches in heat.

Eventually, his chance came up, as the stream of football players began to slack off a bit. They had each come at least twice now, and those that wanted more were choosing the blonde cunt. She fucked back, while the other- sexy a bitch as she was- just lay there, unresisting.

Hawkins waited until there were no more guys waiting and then moved forward to unstrap the tall brunette. She struggled as he tore her away from her kiss with her blonde friend, but offered no real resistance as he threw her down on a mattress. She just stared up at him, wild-eyed, as he lowered himself between her legs and once again thrust his cock into her sopping pussy. This time he was going to cum inside her. The bitch began to cry as Hawkins fucked her, but he didn't mind that.

Hell, it just meant she was paying attention.

Karen sat, motionless, in the front seat of Sharon's car, staring blankly out the front window at the house. It had been over an hour now. She should have taken Sharon's advice and gone into the house to watch, but just the idea of those guys and what they would do to her Ashley...

Karen shook her head, trying to banish those thoughts from her mind. It had been a running battle to keep the brunette from going out with guys from school. If that slut wanted cock so badly, she was welcome to it. She would be getting a lot of it. Karen would see to that. Even better, there was a lot of money to be made, as Sharon had pointed out. Lots of cash.

So, why did she feel so sick just thinking about it? Why did the mere thought of some big shithead of a male sticking his ugly cock into Ashley make feel like crying?

Enough! Karen reached for the handle and pushed open the car door...

Sharon had videotaped the entire scene on the coffee table, and was now focusing on Stacy as the blonde slut began servicing two guys: one from behind her as she knelt, strapped in place, over the wooden surface, and one in her mouth as he straddled the coffee table in front of her.

She continued to keep the camera away from Ashley, who refused to become aroused. Sharon couldn't understand it; Ashley had drank as much of the drug as Stacy, but she wasn't...

Realization dawned.

There was no drug! Gary hadn't been putting anything in Stacy's drinks for three months now. The stuff in the thermos had only been alcohol. Ashley was doing this straight!

Sharon stared open-mouthed as the tall brunette, tears streaming down her face, was being fucked on the mattress. Then she looked back at Stacy on the coffee table. If Ashley was doing this without the benefit of the drug, then so was Stacy. On the coffee table, Stacy groaned with pleasure as her body was wracked with yet another orgasm.

The door behind her banged shut. Sharon whirled around to see...

Karen ran into the room, her pudgy face red with exertion. Where was... She stopped in her tracks as her eyes lit on the mattress where some asshole was lying between Ashley's spread legs, pumping his cock in and out while the tall brunette cried and struggled beneath him.

Sharon reached towards her, but Karen shook off her hand.

"Get off of her, you asshole," she screeched, running towards the mattress. Shocked, the guy looked up from where he was fucking Ashley just in time to see Karen come barreling across the room towards him. He only had time to throw up his hands as the fat teenager slammed into him with enough force to make him think he was back on the football field. With a shout, he fell back, his cock sliding out of Ashley's sopping cunt just as he came. A wad of sperm flew up and sailed across the room, splattering against the back wall.

"K-Karen?" Ashley looked up at her rescuer from where she was cringing on the mattress, confused and frightened.

"It's OK honey," Karen said soothingly, bending down to help the naked girl to her feet. "I've got you now."

The room fell silent as Karen helped the crying brunette to her feet and then led her towards the door.

"What the fuck?" It was the guy she had knocked off of Ashley. Karen looked up at him. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to go after her, but he quickly backed down. He cock still dripped sperm as it dangled, limp and wet, before him.

Karen led the trembling Ashley out through the front door and into the open air.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Sharon, along with everyone else in the room, stood in stunned silence. The only sound to be heard was a quiet slurping from where Stacy continued to suck on the cock of the guy sitting in front of her.

"Hey!" It was the guy Karen had knocked over; Hawker, or something like that. "What the fuck was that all about?" He had wrapped a towel around his waist. "We paid for two whores tonight, not just one."

Sharon felt a moment of panic as the guys in the room turned their attention towards her. She thought quickly.

"OK," she cried, "Fair enough. I'll return half the money..." 'Karen's share, she thought grimly. "...and the video will be free." She looked around, experiencing a tense moment. Would they go for it?

Then the silence was broken as the guy Stacy was sucking finally came, groaning loudly as he pumped his warm sperm into her rapidly convulsing throat. Another guy cheered, and then the tension broke as the guys converged on Stacy. The guy pulled his now limp cock out of her mouth, and moved away.

He was quickly replaced by another player.

Karen helped Ashley into the back seat, slid in beside her and shut the car door. She had draped her coat over the other girl's shoulders, but, despite the warmth of the evening, the tall brunette could not stop shivering. Besides the light coat, Ashley wore only the fish-net stockings (now ripped) and the locked-on pumps. Her upper body and thighs were covered with bruises from where she had been roughly handled; her face and tits were covered with rapidly-congealing sperm.

Karen felt like crying.

The heavy teenager reached up and put her arm around the taller girl's shoulder. To her surprise, the brunette stopped trembling and leaned into her. Ashley lay her head on Karen's shoulder.

"H-honey... Ashley," Karen felt strangely tongue-tied. Her throat had gone dry, and she had to swallow before continuing. "I... I just want you to know that... uhm; I'm, like, s-sorry about what- what happened in... in there." A tear began to trickle down her face. "I d-didn't mean..."

She was interrupted by the soft touch of Ashley's finger on her cheek, brushing away the tear. She looked over at the other girl; she was so beautiful! Even through the tears and the bruises and the dried sperm. She looked so...

"Karen..."

Ashley's voice was soft and hoarse.

"Karen..."

Stacy moaned and bucked as yet another of the football players came in her pussy. The cock in front of her had exploded in her face a few moments earlier, and she was still licking the sperm off her lips. It had been over an hour since her last orgasm, and the guys were at last beginning to slow down. She must have fucked all of them at least three times. At least, it felt like it. Her pussy had gone numb any number of fucks ago, and the members of the football team had neither the skill nor the inclination to give her clit the attention it needed to give her pleasure. As a result, she was slowly coming out of the pleasure-induced fog that had enveloped her mind earlier in the evening.

The cock slid out of her pussy, leaving her cock-free for the first time in hours. Almost immediately, she felt a hand at grab a hold of her hair and drag her painfully to her feet. Dimly, she opened her eyes to see what was happening.

It was Sharon.

Stacy winced, but didn't offer any resistance as she was pulled across the room and forced to kneel on top of the coffee table. Her balance, always precarious on the four inch heels, failed her and she slipped backwards. Sharon, however, caught her and shoved her back upright. Quickly, she turned the blonde teenager around and positioned her so that she was leaning back on her heels with her thighs spread wide. Her sopping red cunt glistened in the light.

Sharon pulled the thermos out and handed it to the naked girl. Anxious to recapture the pleasure she had felt earlier in the evening, Stacy sucked hungrily at it, finishing what was left. She burped slightly as Sharon took back the empty thermos.

"Now listen," Sharon muttered to her. "You're going to put on a bit of a show for the guys. They're getting a bit worn down. Do you understand?"

Stacy felt the now-familiar rush of the alcohol and drugs. Confused, she shook her head as her well-used cunt began to tingle.

"I'm going to ask you some questions," Sharon explained, "You're going to answer to the camera. If you don't get them excited again, and quickly, I'll see that this tape gets spread around a bit. Is that clear?"

Stacy choked back the tears and nodded her head. She was doing everything they told her to do; why the threats? She was a good girl!

One hand reached down and began rubbing her pussy. Sharon slapped it away.

"Not yet," she ordered. Obediently, Stacy let her hand fall limply at her side. Sharon would tell her what to do.

Sharon stepped back and surveyed the scene. The football players were all lined up against the walls, out of sight of the camera, watching Stacy as she perched on the coffee table. Perfect. The video camera had been set up to cover the shot from the front, framing Stacy directly in the screen. Now,just one more thing and they would be set up...

"Anyone ready for a blowjob?"

One of the big guys- the one who had been knocked over earlier by Karen- stepped forward. His cock jutted out in front of him, ready for action. Sharon nodded him towards Stacy and watched as he moved forward to stand in front of her. Stacy, once again trembling with lust, took the cock in her mouth and began slurping away on it. The slut's hand wandered down to her cunt and began sliding up and down.

Sharon moved in and whispered in Stacy's ear as she sucked.

"Two things, bitch." Stacy's eyes rolled towards Sharon as she continued to work on the cock.

"First, you can play with yourself all you like, but don't come until I say. Do you understand?" Stacy moaned an acknowledgement.

"Second, when this guy comes, don't swallow. Hold it in your mouth until I say otherwise." Stacy's eyes widened, but she once again grunted in the affirmative.

Satisfied, Sharon backed away and watched as the blonde teenager brought the guy to an orgasm and sucked his sperm into her mouth. By the time he was finished, her cheeks were bulging with the thick, white fluid.

OK. Everything was ready. Sharon hit the "record" button and began talking to Stacy as she crouched on the coffee table facing the camera, legs spread and cunt glistening.

"What's your name?"

Stacy looked confused.

"What's your name?" Sharon repeated, menacingly.

"S-Stacy," came the uncertain answer. "Stacy R-Richards."

A small trickle of cum dribbled out of her mouth and down her chin. The blonde slut was still playing with herself and was obviously very close to having an orgasm.

Sharon shook her head.

"What is your name?"

Understanding dawned on Stacy's cum-encrusted face. She looked like she was about to cry.

"Cumslut," she answered quietly, trying to keep the cum in her mouth. "My name is Cumslut."

Sharon smirked at her.

"What are you, Cumslut? What do you do?"

Stacy moaned, trying not to come. She looked beseechingly at her tormentor, but Sharon just stared back at her.

"I'm a whore," the blonde answered, broken. "I'm a slut." Her left hand, the one with almost-full charm bracelet, moved faster and faster over her pussy.

"Please..."

"Karen..."

Ashley looked over at the girl who had pulled her out from under the guy who had been raping her. The girl who had rescued her.

"I... what you said about g-guys..." Karen's arm felt good on her shoulder. It somehow made her feel safe and warm.

"You were right..."

The tall brunette fought back the tears. "You were right about them..." She looked over at her rescuer. She saw the greasy hair; the weight problem; the acne...

"Ashley..."

The other girl began to speak, but Ashley cut her off with a finger on her lips.

"Karen," she whispered, "I just want you to know..."

"...let me come.

"What are you?" By now, the cum was trickling steadily out from between Stacy's lips as she babbled away.

"I'm a toy; a sex-toy. I need to be fucked all the time. I love to have cocks up my ass and in my cunt and in my mouth."

Stacy- Cumslut- felt the waves of pleasure pulse up from where her fingers rubbed frantically at her clit. In spite of the humiliation- or as a result of it- she could feel another orgasm building up inside of her.

"Please," she begged. "Let me come..."

"What are you?"

"I love cum. I love to suck it out of big juicy cocks. I love to feel it dribble over my lips and all over my face."

She could feel her face reddening with intense humiliation, but she was unable to stop herself. It wasn't her fault.

"Shit on me... piss on me... come all over me..."

It was the drugs. They did this to her. Gary and Sharon and Neil could blackmail her all they wanted, but it was the drugs that made her...

"I'm a slut," she wailed, feeling the orgasm slowly build in her body. She stopped talking and looked over at Sharon.

"Let me come... please?"

Sharon looked at her for a moment and then nodded her approval. It was time to bring this to an end.

Stacy brought her other hand down to her cunt and began to thrust first one, then two and finally three fingers into her hungry cunt, all the while rubbing furiously at her clit.

"I'm a cunt... I'm a bitch... I'm... Ahhhhh..."

Sharon watched in amazement as the blonde slut wailed and cried her way into and through a massive orgasm. The sperm she had been holding in her cheeks exploded outwards, drenching her lower face and tits as she screamed and sobbed on the coffee table.

What a slut!

Finally, Stacy crested the top of the orgasm. Sharon watched as she slowly calmed down.

"Cumslut..." the blonde teenager mumbled, over and over again, her fingers hard at work in her dripping cunt. "...Cumslut..."

The room fell silent for a moment, but then Stacy began to build herself back up again.

Sharon bit her lip as she watched. The bitch was going to come again!

'I've got to tell her,' she thought to herself. Gary would kill her, but...

Sharon waited until Stacy was just reaching the crest of yet another orgasm. Then, after shutting off the camera, she walked slowly forward and leaned in to whisper something into the slut's ear...

Ashley hesitated momentarily, but then carried on.

"D-do you remember that day... at Stacy's. Where... where you, uhm... spanked me?"

Karen nodded dumbly.

"I... well..." Ashley was obviously embarrassed. "Would you... would you do it a-again?"

Karen just stared.

"I... I know I've been b-bad," the brunette stammered. "I need to be punished; I n-need you to spank me." Ashley flushed and looked away.

Karen felt a sudden flush of joy as she looked over at Ashley. The brunette was looking down, unable to meet the other girl in the eye. But that was all right. In fact, it was better then all right!

"Yes darling," Karen answered. "Of course I'll give you a spanking." She shifted slightly in her seat.

"Come here."

Moving carefully, her flesh bruised and aching from the rough treatment in the house, Ashley spread her long, luscious body out over Karen's lap, ass upwards.

Karen wasted no time. She immediately began administering strong, rhythmic slaps to the well-presented ass. Soon, it was shining red.

At first, the pain was great for Ashley, but that was OK; she deserved it. After a while, however, the burning seemed to fade away somewhat, and was replaced by a slow wave of pleasure which spread steadily outward from where her pussy rubbed against Karen's knee.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Ashley kept repeating this phrase as the pleasure built up and then took her over the edge into an intense orgasm.

"Oh god..."

Crying, the tall brunette trembled and shook on the other girl's lap.

Karen stopped slapping Ashley's ass and began to finger her clit, quickly sending the other girl into a second, more intense, orgasm.

Finally, it was over.

Ashley turned her tear and cum-stained face upwards and looked Karen in the eye, her eyes wide with adoration.

"I love you," she whispered.

Hawkins slowly rubbed his hand along his rapidly hardening cock as he watched the scene in front of him. He had already come three times that night, but that blonde slut's performance on the coffee table was making him hard again. Fuckin' A!

She was perched up on the coffee table, masturbating and going on about what a slut she was and other stuff like that, all the while dribbling his cum down her chin. This went on for a long time until the fat chick told the slut she could finally come, which she did almost immediately. What an orgasm! The bitch thrashed about and screamed like she was having her tits mangled or something. Hawkins had never seen anything like it.

After that, the fat girl turned off the camera and walked towards the whore. She waited until it looked like the slut was going to have another orgasm, then leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Immediately, the blonde stopped frigging herself and stared at the other girl, her eyes wide.

"No," the blonde whispered. "You're lying."

The fat girl just smirked and shook her head. Once again, she muttered something to the slut on the coffee table, and then turned to walk away.

"You're lying," the blonde yelled at her retreating back. "It's n-not true." She had started crying; tears streamed down her face, making trails in the dried cum. Her entire body was wracked with violent sobs. Hawkins noticed that her left hand began to move again.

The fat girl laughed. She picked up the video camera and walked to the door.

"You're lying," the blonde screamed from her perch on the coffee table.

"You're lying!"

The other girl turned.

"No," she said quietly, "I'm not. No drugs; not tonight and not since January."

Sharon paused and looked Stacy up and down as the bitch crouched, wailing, on the coffee table. Her blonde hair was matted with sweat and cum; her face, once beautiful, was red and splotchy with tears and sperm; her lithe body was bruised and caked with dried sperm. And, all the while, her left hand continuously frigged at her exposed pussy, the metal charm bracelet glinting mockingly in the light.

"Slut."

Sharon looked up at the football players standing at the back of the room. To a man, they were hard again.

"She's all yours," she said, smirking. "Just get her back in one piece."

She turned and walked out the front door.

"Nooooo!!" The blonde bitch broke down, sobbing and crying as the members of the football team moved towards her.

END PART NINE

The Serengeti Yeti

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