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The girls had been talking about this since last year, almost, egging each other on to promise they'd do even kinkier things if they were picked - even things that most of them didn't know what was.
Angel hadn't imagined that she'd outgrow the others so fast and be voted Best T-shirt Filler by the boys. But looking around at all the males -- the fathers, the teachers, and especially the big brothers -- watching as she got undressed and let her best friend tie her wrists together before writing the prices on her belly, she felt a tingle between her legs. Mr. Bernard the history teacher was already waiting, and seeing her raccoon classmate Rosco taking out her lunch box from its bag to put the Dog's five bucks in it, she made her decision. A scary one, since she didn't really know what it meant -- and that only made the tingling worse, and better.
"Rachel said she'd let a guy bag her for 500 dollars. I'll do it for 100, that'll show her!"
While the teacher gingerly slid his old member into his favorite pupil, finding her so wet that his knot touched her plump pussy lips on the first thrust, Angel's friend carefully placed the clear bag over her hair, ears and eyes, leaving just her mouth and nose free. That kinky sight had brought the Panda a constant stream of buyers for the first hour or so, teaching her more about the male equipment of various species, and getting the attention of more hunky boys than any cheerleader dared hope for.
And then he is there, the dreamy Zebra quarterback - training must be over for today. His sisters had whispered once about him and bags and girls, and it was his face that she'd seen in her mind when she made the decision.
"Oh, that's perfect," she hears his husky voice. "Coach gave me a hundred so I can get my rocks off before the big game tomorrow. She's still for sale, right?" There's an indistinct reply from Rosco, and then the quarterback is standing there, looking at the writing on her belly. "Aww, but I get a hole too for that money, don't I?" His jeans are dropping before Rosco replies again, and then he is pulling her legs apart, slipping his thick cock into her sloppy front hole.
Angel looks up at the Zebra with the adoration of a twelve year old meeting an idol, even though she's lying bound on a school table and he's just paid to fuck her. Instead of holding his hand when they go out for ice cream and a movie, she tilts her pelvis to meet his shaft, using all that she's learned right there on the table, rotating her hips to feel him better inside her.
"The guys will want to see this," he is saying, beginning to respond to her movements as he drapes her leg over his arm and starts an iPhone recording. "Mmm, you're good. Too bad we can only do this once."
And that is when he pulls the bag down over her mouth. Angel is short of breath, panting already, and before she can inhale and ask what he he's doing, he has pulled the drawstring closed. All she gets is a mouthful of plastic.
"So that's what they meant. I should have asked!" goes through her mind before panic sets in, the table rattling against the concrete of the schoolyard as the Zebra enjoys his purchase, holding on to her firm little breast as her body struggles and her mind fades. "But he has a nice cock," is the thought that comes to her at last, echoing around her head as she feebly tries to meet his thrusts a few last times. And then her lean young body goes into random convulsions, sending the quarterback over the edge, filling her with cum yet another time that afternoon.
"Me and coach say thank you, Angel! And I don't even have to clean up the mess, right?" he says as he slaps the firm rump of the corpse to make the tight little pussy release his shaft, simply pulling up his jeans and walking away, whistling.
* * * * * * * * *
"No shopping for yourself before the last half hour, remember?"
Rosco has been checking the fiver from his weekend candy money every five minutes since Angel got on the table, and when his home room teacher finally calls out the free-for-all, the money is in the box before his chair hits the ground.
The coon boy has watched while other males treated his dead classmate as some sort of partner, respectfully letting her lie where the Zebra left her -- only a few, though, since the disapproving glances of mothers and wives seemed to keep most non-scavengers at bay -- feeling so relieved every time they only bought the use of a hole. But the fur of her lower belly is thoroughly matted now, fluids drying fast in the 85 degree heat.
The same heat that's kept Angel as warm and limber as ever, he notices as he pushes her over onto her belly. Her firm rear, the one that's he's watched so often, filling her shorts as she leaned over her friend's table two rows in front of his in the classroom, that's still clean, the fur so soft to his touch. He is getting out of his own shorts as fast as he can, his young cock painfully hard from the near constant stimulation of his right hand over the past hours.
And then, finally, he can lift her tail, pulling her closer, and push into her rear hole. No longer the tight little pucker he'd once imagined, but a slick and well-used hole that takes in his cock with a slurping sound. The young Racoon does not care, his expression one of glee and arousal as he starts humping the dead Panda, almost climbing on top of the slender body. It is only when the girl starts sliding forward under him that he grabs the chain leash, holding himself in place by lifting her upper body. The smell of warm cum hits his nostrils as the new position adds the pressure needed to unstick her pussy entrance and drain it onto the ground.
"Mr Coon, can I buy her undies for a two-er? I don't have any more, but Mom told me to ask? Because it's almost closing time and I like Hello Kitty?" The little voice breaks Rosco's concentration for a second. He had managed to clear most of Angel's things while he waited, adding to the money box, but her panties he had actually tried to keep for himself. Now he just shrugs. "I'm busy, Ashley. Put the money in the box yourself, OK?"
The little mouse swishes her tail in annoyance, but steps over to the other table to do as she's told. Looking back, she suddenly giggles. "Angel looks funny when you fuck her, Mr Coon. Wish she could see it, her breasts jiggle just like a mommy's, not a girl!" That's when the Racoon loses it, his balls cramping as he fills Angel's rear hole and collapses on top of her lifeless body.
"Rosco, dear, it's time to go home." His Mom's voice brings him back, along with her hand on his shoulder. She chuckles at her son's embarrassed face, not looking as he slips away from the table and recovers his shorts.
"But Mom, nobody bought the rest of her," he suddenly remembers, looking around at the almost deserted school yard where the janitor is already stacking tables. "We need those 100 dollars so she can break the fundraising record!"
"You really liked little Angel, didn't you, dear?" the Racoon woman is saying, quietly removing the bag from the Panda's head, lifting and turning her face to look into her lax open mouth. "Well, she was a cutie, and she looks healthy enough. Let's just see..." A tug to the side, and the hand squeezing a young breast could be dipping into any meat counter at the mall, testing a select cut.
"Mom, stop it... that's embarassing!"
"You should talk, silly." Rosco's mom grins at him as she pulls her purse from her handbag, finding a 100 dollar bill. "You were the one without pants, remember? Now put this in the box -- by tomorrow evening, those cute tits will be ripe and soft just like your dad likes them, and grandma will like that pretty brown fur in her chair. You can play with Angel until then -- just keep her in your room, and wear pants when you come out, OK?"
"Oh, Mom... you're the best!"