TOYING WITH TIFFANY MMMM/f teen, nc, humil Ch.1 By Dr. Wu

Warning: This story is of an adult sexual nature. If you are under 21, you are
forbidden from reading it. Go somewhere else.

Important mumbo jumbo: This story is copyright 1999 by Dr. Wu. It may be freely
distributed on any newsgroup or any part of the Internet where access is
completely free and unhindered. It may not be archived or be made part of any
site that charges for access in any form.

The usual blah-blah: This story is complete and utter fiction. No one bears any
relation to anyone real. In real life, anyone who tried to do any of the stuff
described in this story would be guilty of both serious felonies and major sins,
and would deserve punishment. But this is a fantasy world, so enjoy.




* * *


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.

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 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 druggy 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 recorder, 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 closeup, 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 Cocksucker 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 motherfucker!

"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 whore-dog 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
aureolas 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, signalling 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 goddam 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 nipples 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 Tits, 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, ass-licker."

"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 5

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 dlido 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 fuckmeat, 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've 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 ahold 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 naive Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet
And willingly OH! OH!"

She couldn't help herself. Joe's hand at 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

"Whoops, 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 ben-wa 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 6

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
ben-wa 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 ben-was 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, bitch. 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 closeup 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 blowjob. 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 Blowjob 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 ben-wa 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 blowjob 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 shoestore 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 teenie 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 ben-wa 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 ben-wa 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 cum."

"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 blowjob 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 blowjobs
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 7

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 ben-wa 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 ben-wa 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 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 blowjob 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 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 baketball 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 metalhead 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 lungful 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 nibbles 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 breastmeat 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 ben-wa 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.

(Dr. Wu would like to pay homage to James Dawson, whose classic story
"Cheerleader's Torment" provided some of the inspiration for this chapter.)


* * *


CHAPTER 8

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 blowjobs 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
boombox, 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 ben-wa 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 smlled 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 is

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 9

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 begin 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 beautilf
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 rimjob.
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 ov