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Fair Game Ch. 1

By: Ludo



Pt. I - "Hot For Teacher"

I got the idea while standing in the detention line, or, as they call it in this all-boys, catholic high school, "JUG", for "Justice Under God". But the jugs I was thinking about at the moment belonged to one Becky Beakman. "Ballbreaker Beakman" was one of the very few female teachers in this temple of testosterone, and she had a chip on her shoulder the size of Mount Rushmore. She took an almost sadistic delight in making life as miserable as possible for her students. Whether assigning weekend-killing term papers, or berating students for wrong answers, she had earned the contempt of practically every student in the school. She was especially hard on the jocks, like me. Granted, we weren't the sharpest crayons in the box, which is why I was still a senior at 19.

The real kicker was that Ballbreaker Beakman was drop-dead gorgeous! She was tall, 5'10" easy, model thin, but with tits and an ass that any playmate of the month would envy. And she went to great lengths to display this voluptuous body as much as the school dress code would allow. Therefore, every red-blooded boy in the school had a lust/hate relationship with this she-devil. On any given day, half of the guys standing in JUG were there courtesy of BB. And today, I was one of 'em. My crime? Artistic license.

I'm a pretty fair artist, mostly draw comic book type stuff. As BB was droning on about Shakespearean sonnets, I was giving her the Wonder Woman treatment, you know, wind-blown hair cascading down over gravity-defying breasts. Of course, in BB's case, that didn't require a great stretch of the imagination. I had just about finished a full torso illustration when I heard her stop in mid-sentence. I had been so absorbed in my drawing that I hadn't noticed that she had begun walking up and down the aisles between the desks. And now she was standing right over my left shoulder. Slowly closing my notebook, I turned my head and stared straight into those magnificent breasts, heaving with barely controlled rage, threatening to burst through her thin, lavender silk shirt. I looked up. Framed in a mane of silky blonde hair, those sparkling green eyes were raining daggers of pure death upon me. She held out her hand. No words were needed. I held out the notebook, and she snatched it from me. In an icy voice she said "JUG, Mr. Finch. Five days", and strode purposely to the front of the classroom. As I watched her perfect ass twitch away under her tight, black mini skirt, I thought, "Shit! 5 Days! That's 5 practices! And we're playing State next week. The coach is gonna pull me from first string!" I decided then and there, the bitch had to pay. And now, standing in the JUG line, I knew just how to do it.

As soon as the vice principle dismissed us, I ran to the parking lot. BB's new red VW bug was parked in the reserved teacher's spot. Perfect. I ran up to the second floor, to the AV room. I had volunteered to be president of the AV club, because my counselor said that with my grades, I'd need more than football on my application if any college were going to look at me twice. Now that decision was going to pay off. I took the newest camcorder from the locker and stuffed it in my book bag. I locked up the AV room and ran down to my car. I pulled around to an empty spot, not too near the exit, and waited. After about 20 minutes, BB came out of the building, got in her bug, and took off. I followed her from a safe distance. She drove like a bat out of hell, and it was difficult to keep up without getting too close. Fortunately, that bright red bug was easy to spot. Before long, she turned onto a back road, and parked in front of a small ranch house. I pulled over on the other side of the street, about a half a block away. She got out, collected her briefcase and a large pile of papers from the front seat, and headed up the walk. Before she reached the door, it opened, and an attractive brunette appeared. Sister? Roommate? I realized that there was a lot I didn't know about my evil English teacher, but I was going to find out.

As I drove home at a leisurely pace, I went over the plan in my mind. I would return to BB's house after dark, sneak around the back, and find a bedroom or bathroom, anything with an open window. With any luck, I would be able to get some footage of her naked. I would copy the video on top of a few of the many hundreds of boring instructional tapes in the library. I would then drop some subtle hints to a few fellow classmates. News like this would travel like wildfire, and by this time next week, every boy in that school would have gotten an eyeful of Ballbreaker Beakman buck naked! I got home, did my usual half-assed job on my homework, and spent most of dinner trying to conceal the raging hard-on that I'd had since leaving Beakman's house. At 8:00, I announced that I was going to meet some friends at the mall, and took off. I made it to my destination just as dusk gave way to dark. I parked where I had before. I could see the house from the side. The rooms in the front of the house were lit, but the back windows were still dark. I pulled the video camera from my bookbag, and walked stealthily (I hoped) toward the house. Low hedges surrounded the whole house. I ducked down below them, and made my way to the back. I looked at the first darkened window. It appeared to be the bathroom, but the lower half was frosted glass. No good. I continued around the back till I came to another window. It was opened about 3 inches. Creeping through the hedge, I peered cautiously inside. I could make out the outline of a bed. Bingo! I just hoped it was Ballbuster's bedroom, and not her sister's or roommate's or whatever she was. Hey, either way, I was bound to get something.

I had gotten the lens cap off of the camera, and was just starting to test the auto focus, when the light came on. I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. Ballbreaker walked in. She must have changed since coming home, because she was wearing a pair of denim shorts that cut deliciously up the crack of her ass, and a thin, white tank top. She wore no bra, as the dark circles of her nipples attested, yet her breasts stood firmly forward. I watched her, slack-jawed, as she opened the top dresser drawer, fumbling for something. Then I remembered, "Oh yeah! The camera!" I hit the record button. The camera whirred and clicked into action. The noise seemed deafening to me, but she didn't seem to hear a thing. I looked through the viewfinder at a clear shot of the whole room. The window was just to the right of the foot of the bed. The dresser was against the left wall, with a mirror mounted above it. Standing at the dresser, with her back to me, BB pulled the tank top over her head in one fluid motion. Her breasts were reflected in the mirror; perfect, smooth white globes, topped with the most delectable nipples I had ever seen. My "Wonder Woman" drawing had been more accurate than I had imagined! No wonder she freaked! She dropped the tank top to the floor, and unsnapped her shorts. They were so tight, she had to work them down her hips, wiggling her delicious ass provocatively as she went. The shorts fell to the floor, and I was staring at the butt that launched a thousand wet dreams. As she stepped out of her shorts, I was praying that she wouldn't quickly grab a nightgown from the dresser, depriving me of a clear shot of her pussy. I needn't have worried.

She reached into the top drawer and pulled out a black leather collar, alternately studded with rhinestones and silver rings. She placed the collar around her neck, pushing her long blond hair aside so as not to catch it in the clasp. She walked to the foot of the bed and turned toward where I stood concealed. I nearly dropped the camera. Her pussy was completely shaved, save for a small, heart-shaped patch perched invitingly just above her slit. And, yes, she was a natural blonde. She walked to the center of the foot of the bed, and turned, facing the headboard. She clasped her lowered hands in front of her, and bowed her head. "What the fuck is this?" I wondered "'Now I lay me down to sleep'??"

Just then I heard a voice from the other room call out "Are you prepared?"

"Yes, Mistress" came her barely audible reply. 'MISTRESS?!?' I had no time for the shock to register before the woman I had seen earlier strode purposefully into the room. She had changed clothes, too, and how! Her shiny black leather miniskirt ended just inches above the tops her thigh-high spike heeled boots. She was shorter than BB, not as voluptuous, with harrow hips and a smooth, flat stomach. Her tits, though smaller than Beakman's, were proudly displayed in a matching black leather corset, her dark areolas peeked out over the edge of the binding leather. She was darker than BB, with brown hair that was pulled back in a severe bun. Bright red lipstick and dark eye shadow gave her a decidedly sinister countenance. In her hands she held a small, but evil looking whip.

She had barely entered the room when she stopped, and stared at the spot on the floor where Becky had tossed her clothes. With an extremely disapproving look on her face, she barked "What are those?"

BB was practically trembling as she meekly replied "m..m..my clothes, Mistress."

"Pick them up, NOW!" the dominatrix commanded. Becky shuffled quickly around the bed, her gaze fixed on the floor. As she bent over to pick up her clothes, her tormentor brought the whip down sharply on her upturned buttocks. Becky let out a stifled gasp, as a red welt began to glow on her left cheek. She dropped the shorts and shirt in a wicker basket. Then she turned, with her hands clasped before her and her head bowed, and whispered "Thank you, Mistress."

"Oh, don't thank me yet", the lady in leather sneered, "I've barely begun. Assume the position!" Becky moved obediently back to the foot of the bed. She bent forward at the waist, and lay down on the bedspread, her arms spread out on either side. Though the bed was fairly high, her long legs caused her butt to stick up in the air. From between her legs, I could see her pouting, smooth cunt lips peeking wetly at me. This was too much. My hard-on was threatening to burst through my jeans. I had to do something. Steadying the camera with my right hand, I unzipped my fly. Fishing my one-eyed monster out was no easy task. I was rock hard. Should've worn my baggies. Finally, it popped free, and I began slowly stroking as the bizarre scene continued to unfold. The lady in black sauntered over to her prostrate victim. She wedged the toe of one boot between Becky's bare feet, and roughly kicked her legs apart. Her puckered asshole winked invitingly, while her moist pussy began to unfold like the petals of some exotic flower. Glistening wetness oozed slowly down her labia, collecting in a tiny droplet that clung to the tip of her engorged clit.

The Mistress dragged the tassels of her whip lazily back and forth across Becky's proffered ass, occasionally letting them dip down toward her pussy. "So, we've decided to live like a pig, have we?" she asked, bringing the whip down with a resounding SMACK on the word "pig". Becky's ass flexed involuntarily under the lash.

"No, mistress." She whimpered.

"No?" the Mistress asked incredulously, "well, then have you simply decided that you don't have to pick up after yourself anymore." Again and again the whip came down, accenting Mistress's diatribe with painful cracks. Mistress continued to berate her helpless submissive, using the whip for punctuation, With each lash, Becky's ass grew redder, and soon it glowed like a nightlight. Becky was thrashing her head back and forth, revealing and obscuring her face, as she tried to answer her mistress's demands between cries and whimpers. When she looked in my direction, her face was a mask of conflicting emotions. Her eyes were welled with tears, yet the sensuous "O" of her mouth was an expression of pure lust.

Finally, the mistress threw the whip aside and declared, "If you're going to live like an animal, then you're going to get fucked like one!" With that, she grabbed the side of her leather skirt, where a row of silver snaps ran down, and with a single motion ripped it off. I nearly let out a gasp. There, hanging between the "Mistress's" legs was at least 8 inches of hard cock! She was a HE! Or he was a She! Whatever it was, it was hung like a horse! "Mistress" spread Becky's legs roughly apart, further exposing her gaping pussy. He/she positioned that enormous tool at her opening and, with a single lunge, buried it balls deep in her hot hole. Becky let out an animal wail, halfway between a cry of pain and a moan of ecstasy. Mistress leaned forward onto Becky's ass, propped up on his/her arms, just grinding that hunk of meat into BB's writhing pussy. Then he/she began slowly withdrawing, bringing almost the entire glistening shaft into view, before pounding back into her. Slowly at first, then faster and faster they fucked like dogs in heat. I couldn't take it any longer. With a groan that threatened to burst from my throat, I came Gobs of semen splashed onto the wall, running down is sticky rivulets. When the last wave of orgasm subsided, I remembered where I was. Momentarily panicked, I looked back through the viewfinder. Whew! They were still at it, so focused on their own fucking that they didn't hear the sounds I surely must have made.

The "Mistress" kept pounding into Becky for what seemed like hours. Finally, he/she stiffened, and let out a deep, resounding groan as he shot his load into Becky's hungry pussy. Becky, too let out a squeal of sublime satisfaction, as she came in unison with her perverted prince. Mistress collapsed, and for a few moments just lay atop Becky breathing heavily. Then he/she rolled over onto his back. Even spent and half- soft, that cock was huge as it lay glistening on Mistress's thigh. From Becky's inflamed red pussy, cum leaked out by the spoonful.

By this time, I figured I had pressed my luck as far as it would go. I backed away from the window. As I stepped back through the hedge, the silence was shattered by a blood-curdling shriek! A stray cat had wandered into the back yard and managed to position itself right where my foot was headed. I jumped about a foot, releasing the squashed kitty, which took off like a shot. I figured that was a good idea, and bolted after it. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the blind on the bedroom window go up, and two worried faces looking around. I managed to make in to my car, and duck behind it just in time to see the front door open. Mistress came out onto the porch, wearing a bathrobe, scanning intently up and down the street. Becky stayed inside, with just her head poking around the door, obviously still naked. Eventually, they both went back inside. I crept into my car and put it in neutral, coasting down the street and around a corner before starting the engine. Then I floored it, and headed for home. I had gone three or four blocks before I looked down and saw my spent cock hanging out of the front of my jeans. I burst out laughing, as the full realization of what I had accomplished dawned on me. I had come in hopes of catching Ballbreaker Beakman in the nude. Instead, I had video of her being whipped and fucked by her transsexual dominatrix/lover. This was too good to simply share with my fellow students. This was worth more... much more.

To Be Continued...

Fair Game Ch. 2



The story so far: Angry over being given 5 day's detention by the gorgeous but evil English teacher, Becky "Ballbreaker" Beakman, David Finch (that's me) devised a plan for revenge. I borrowed a video camera from the AV lab of my high school, and went to Beakman's house after dark. The idea was to get video of her naked, and share it with the whole school. What I got instead was steaming footage of my English teacher being whipped and fucked by her dominatrix, transsexual lover! As I drove home (after a narrow escape) I realized that a whole new set of opportunities were open to me.

As soon as I got home, I ran up to my room, popped the tape in the VCR, rewound it, and hit PLAY. And there she was, the infamous Becky "Ball Breaker" Beakman, stripping down for my viewing pleasure. As I watched, my cock began to swell in my jeans. Pretty fast recovery, considering I had shot my load all over Becky's azaleas not ten minutes ago. But considering the stimulation I had before me, I wasn't too surprised. I undid my belt, popped the snap, pulled down my zipper, and worked my jeans and boxers halfway down my thighs. I lazily stroked my rapidly growing member, while Becky's surprising partner scorched her succulent ass with the whip. Watching Becky writhe in pain and pleasure, I felt my balls begin to tighten. I barely had time to grab a handful of tissues before my second load of the evening burst forth in an orgasmic wave of release.

As I continued to view my pornographic masterpiece, plans began to form in my head; daring plans, deliciously evil plans. This was too good to simply hand out to the masses. This was a treasure, a source of power. Becky Beakman was mine! By the time Becky's curiously endowed girlfriend was done flooding her well-fucked pussy with she-male spunk, I had worked out every detail of my plan, (as well as cumming for a third time).

The next morning I surprised my Mom by appearing at the breakfast table at the crack of dawn. She usually has to pry me out of bed with the help of an air horn and a bucket of ice water. I mumbled something about cramming for finals, sucked down a bowl of Cheerios in record time, and was pulling into the school parking lot at 6:45, just as the custodian was unlocking the front doors. I parked back around the side of the building, and waited a few minutes before entering. No one was in sight as I made my way safely to the AV room. I locked the door behind me and set to work. I hooked the camcorder up to another VCR. Then I went through the door that connected the AV room to the library.

From the video racks, I pulled the copy of "Romeo and Juliet", a BBC production that Beakman was scheduled to show us in class that day. Back in the lab, I fast-forwarded the tape to a pre-selected spot. I hit PLAY on the camcorder and RECORD on the VCR, copying a segment of my masterpiece onto the BBC tape. After 30 seconds, I stopped the copy, rewound both tapes, and put "Romeo" back on the rack. Cleaning up any sign of my presence in the lab, I sneaked back to my car and drove over to the diner around the corner, to await a more appropriate arrival time.

English was second period, and first period trig seemed to last forever. At the bell, I raced to my locker and retrieved my text, and a large manila envelope. As I entered Beakman's classroom, I was greeted by the sight of her ass. She was bent over behind the video cart, fiddling with the patch cords connecting the VCR to the monitor. Her long legs lead to a tan shirt that stopped not quite halfway down her shapely thighs. As I stared at her butt, a vision of the more intimate view I had recently enjoyed flashed into my head, making my already swelling cock throb urgently. Suddenly she stood up and turned, catching me in mid-gape. She gave me a disapproving scowl, which grew more severe when she noticed the unmistakable bulge in my pants. "Sit down, Mister Finch." She commanded.

I took a seat in my customary spot, back row right, as the rest of the class filed in. Beakman began telling the class that, while Shakespeare's prose was sometimes difficult to understand, if we paid attention to the play we were about to see, we would find it very rewarding. If she only knew! With that, she dimmed the lights and started the tape. After adjusting the sound, she moved to a desk at the back of the room, where she had a stack of term papers that needed grading. While pretending to watch the TV, I surreptitiously glanced at Becky. Her workspace was illuminated by a desk lamp, which shone like a spotlight on her chest. Her pearl colored blouse was opened just enough to display an ample cleavage.

About 40 minutes into the film, my attention returned to the screen. The famous "balcony" scene was coming up. I looked around the room. Half the class was on their way to sleepy-bye land, while the other half had already arrived. Juliet delivered her immortal line, "Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou, Romeo?" Suddenly the scene changed dramatically. There was a loud "Crack!" followed by a muffled cry. The scene showed a leather clad dominatrix from the chest down, lashing mercilessly at the upturned ass of a voluptuous blonde who lay bent and spread over a bed, her gaping pussy literally dripping. The blonde's head was turned away from the camera, so only a tangle of golden locks were visible. Those who had been half asleep were now fully awake, many prodding the sleepers with a "Wake up! Lookit that!"..

From the back of the room came a bloodcurdling shriek, followed by a crash as Beakman leapt to her feet, tipping over the table. Term papers flew everywhere as the desk lamp hit the floor, the bulb breaking with an audible POP! She raced to the front of the classroom, and started hitting buttons on the VCR. She was in such a panic that she didn't realize that she was bent over so far that the whole class had a clear shot up her skirt. She sure picked a bad day to wear a thong! The perfectly rounded cheeks of her ass were bisected by a thin strip of white cotton, printed with tiny roses, the bulge of her pussy lips clearly visible through her slightly spread legs. If my classmates only knew that the delectable derriere they were now ogling was the very same one that had been so thoroughly reddened on the screen, the entire class would have simultaneously creamed their jeans.

Before she could get the tape stopped, the scene changed back to the Bard's star-crossed lovers. She finally shut off the monitor and turned, glaring at the class. Outrage, panic, fear, and anger fought for control of her features. She wanted to yell "WHO DID THIS!", but couldn't. The answer might prove too dangerous. A dead silence stretched for an eternity, as the class waited for the wrath of Beakman to rain down upon them. Finally, her labored breathing slowed, and she said in a quavering voice, "Class is over. Everyone go to the library for study hall." As the class filed out, I waited behind, slowly gathering my books. Every guy who walked out was discretely adjusting his pants to a sudden stiffness. I filed in after the last one. Beakman was sitting at her desk, staring straight ahead. As I passed, I placed the manila envelope on the desk. She looked at the envelope, then her eyes raised to me. As she glared at me with fear and loathing, I smiled and left the room.

In the envelope was a copy of the full video, and a note which read "I hope you enjoyed today's preview. Unless you want the rest of that performance to become the number one best selling video in town, you will tell the vice-principal that you have changed your mind, and are canceling the rest of my detention. I will stop by tonight at eight to explain the rest of my conditions."

By lunchtime, word of the video had spread throughout the school. As I walked through the cafeteria, every table was abuzz with speculation about who had done it. I heard my name several times, and was even approached by my friends. But I played dumb. If they found out I did it, they'd want to see the tape. And I had other plans for it.

Classes dragged on interminably. After the last one, I dutifully headed to the JUG line, only to be told that Miss Beakman had rescinded my detention. Surprise, surprise! I ran to the field in time for practice, but found it hard to concentrate. After practice, I went home, had dinner, showered, and waited. At 7:45, I hopped in my car and took off. I pulled in down the street from Beakman's house at five of. I sat, waiting, preferring to arrive exactly at eight. Every minute or so, the front curtain would pull back, and a nervous Becky Beakman would dart glances up and down the street. 7:59. There she was again. I waited till the curtain closed, and got out of the car, walking quietly up to the front door. My heart was pounding as I knocked on the door. There was only a moment's hesitation before the door swung open. There stood my victim goddess. She appeared pale, somehow smaller than she did at school. She hadn't changed clothes, still wearing the tan skirt and pearl blouse. Without waiting for an invitation, I walked in, catching the scent of her perfume as I passed.

"Mistress" was standing against the far wall of the living room, arms folded across her chest. She glared at me with undisguised hatred. The front door slammed shut, and Becky walked around and stood in front on me, mimicking her friend's defiant stance. "Al right, Mister Finch, let's get this over with." She began. "What is it you want?"

I smiled at her. "Aren't you going to introduce me?" I asked, nodding toward the brunette.

Becky glanced at the other woman, who nodded her consent. "This is Martha... my partner. Now, let's get on with it." I ignored her.

"Hello, Martha." I said pleasantly, "It's a pleasure to meet you. You're very attractive. What's with the dick?"

Without flinching, Martha replied "The dick is original equipment, the rest is by choice."

"Finch!" Becky exclaimed "Cut the crap and tell me what you want. An "A" in English?" I decided to stop farting around and get down to it.

"Well, Becky, I may call you Becky, yes?"

She glared at me in silence. "Becky it is!" I continued. "After last semester's D-, I think and A would be a tad conspicuous. Let's make it a B+."

"Done." She said quickly, "Now give me the tape."

I had to laugh! "Becky! Don't be so naive."

"What else then?" she asked, growing more agitated, "Money?"

"Becky, you're an English teacher in a catholic high school." I replied condescendingly, "My allowance is probably bigger than your paycheck. No, I don't want your money."

"What, then?" she asked. She already knew the answer. I could see it in her eyes. But she still held one sliver of hope that she was wrong. I dashed that hope with a lascivious leer. She shook her head and silently mouthed "No."

"Oh, yes" I assured her. "Now, strip!"

Martha started toward me, her fists balled at her sides. Becky stopped her with a gesture. Looking me straight in the eye, she said in a cold, even voice "Very well, Mister Finch. You win. But I promise you, you will pay for this."

"I sincerely doubt that." I replied coolly. "And it's not Mister Finch any more. It's Master David. And I gave you an order." She lowered her eyes and, with trembling hands began to unbutton her blouse. It was tucked into her skirt, which she unzipped, and both articles of clothing fell to the floor. She hesitated a moment, then reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She shrugged it forward, releasing her magnificent breasts. She cross her arms in front of her, rubbing the red marks that the bra straps had left on her shoulders. I gently took her hands and moved them down to her hips. "You're doing fine." I said in a comforting tone. "Don't stop now." She took a deep breath, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the rose patterned panties we had all enjoyed earlier, and pulled them off. Then she stood before me, gloriously naked, her hands clasped before her, eyes down, much as I had seen her last night. But now, it was all for me. "On your knees." I commanded. She shot me a vicious glare, then thought better of it, and slowly knelt before me. Her face was directly level with my pounding, constrained cock.

"Now, I want you to beg me for the privilege of sucking my cock." She balked for a moment, then is a small, bitter voice said, "May I suck your cock?"

"You call that begging?"

I scoffed "Not even close. Try again."

She took a deep breath, and in a clearer voice asked "Master David, may I please have the privilege of sucking your cock?"

I thought about pushing her to embellish it a bit, having her wax poetic about my beautiful shaft of love, but I was too fucking horny. So I replied "Yes, you may." She undid my belt, popped the snap on my jeans and pulled down the zipper. Then, hooking her fingers into the waistband of my jeans and shorts, she pulled them down in one smooth motion. My turgid erection sprang free, bobbing invitingly (or threateningly, depending on your point of view) right in front of her face. I placed my hand on her head to steady myself as I kicked off my shoes and stepped out of my pants, kicking them over toward where Martha stood fuming in silent, impotent rage. "Hang those over a chair for me, will ya Marty?" I asked nonchalantly. She never took her acidic stare off of my as she complied with my request. "And you," I said, addressing Becky, "Suck it!"

Becky opened her mouth and guided my throbbing member past her lips. She began moving my cock in and out of her mouth in a mechanical motion. "Oh, come on!" I said disapprovingly, "You can do better than that." She tightened her lips slightly, allowing them to drag along the length of my shaft with each thrust. But it was still an uninspired effort. "This girl needs help." I thought, so I called to Martha "Hey Marty, come over here and show her how it's done." Becky backed off my prick, releasing it with a pop of suction.

"No!" she pleaded, "This is between you and me. Leave her out of it!"

"On the contrary," I corrected her, "Martha is very much a part of this. And for your sake, if not her own, she will play along, won't you Martha?"

"It's OK, Becky" Martha replied, stifling her friend's protests. "This twerp doesn't scare me." I made a mental note to punish her later for such insolence. But right now I just wanted my blowjob. She walked defiantly toward me and stood beside Becky, placing a comforting hand on her blonde curls. I reached out and grabbed the hem of her T-shirt.

"We don't need this." I said, pulling the shirt over her head. "OK, Marty" I said, "Get down there and show Becky how to please a man." Marty knelt next to Becky, who looked like she was about to cry.

"It's ok." Marty said softly as she took hold of my glistening prick. I reached down with my right hand and stroked Martha's breast. With my left hand, I fondled Becky's. Becky's tits were full and soft, with wide, silky nipples that hardened involuntarily as I stroked them with my fingers. Martha's were smaller, but still a handful, smooth yet firm with tiny nipples that became pebbly at my touch. If I hadn't known they were fake, I never would have guessed.

Martha began expertly tonguing my cock, as Betty looked on, her expression glazing over. I let out a satisfied groan as Martha sucked my dick way into the back of her throat while fondling my balls. She pulled out my cock, and placed the pulsing purple head to Becky's lips. Becky parted them, and my swollen cock head snaked into her warm mouth. She began to move her tongue teasingly across the underside of my dick, while gazing urgently into Martha's eyes. Martha kissed her hard, capturing my cock between two sets of passionate lips. The fact that I was not the source of that passion didn't bother me. I was getting one hell of a blowjob! I started fucking Becky's face, faster and harder. All too soon, I let out a groan as I flooded her mouth with my cream. I stood there, gasping and quivering for what seemed like an eternity, when it dawned on me. I had just cum in my English teacher's mouth! And the night is young!

I took a deep breath, stepped back, and decided it was Miller Time. "Well, that was fun!" I declared to my harem of two. "Now, who's gonna get me a beer?" They looked at each other incredulously for a moment. Then Martha got up, went to the kitchen, and returned with a Coors light. Women!

I thought for a moment and said, "I say it's time to move to the boudoir. Who's with me?" I strode confidently down the hall and through the door to the bedroom. I flicked on the light and gazed about the stage that had made this all possible. I walked over to the back window. The shade was now pulled all the way down. Yes, they can be taught! Becky and Martha entered, leaving a trail of whispers behind them.

"So glad you could join me." I declared sarcastically. "While I get my gumption back, you two are going to put on a little show. I took Martha's hand and guided her to the bed, directing her to lay back. She still had on a pair of baggy shorts. When, at my command, she removed them, her large, semi-erect cock flopped expectantly on her thigh. "Becky," I said, "you still need a lot of practice in the cock sucking department. Hop up on top of Marty here and let's try a 69." Reluctantly, Becky climbed up onto the bed, positioning her face above Marty's now rapidly growing prick. Her pussy hovered inches above Marty's face. Despite my presence, they looked quite comfortable this way. I concluded that they must have spent a lot of time in this position. Becky took Marty's cock in her hand and began swirling her tongue around the bulbous head. Then she sucked almost half its length into her mouth, prompting a muffled moan from Marty. I walked around to the other side of the bed, and saw that Marty had grabbed Becky's ass and pulled her delectable pussy to her mouth. Her fingers traced lightly over Becky's pussy lips and asshole as her tongue flicked expertly over her lover's sensitive clit.

As I watched this private performance, my cock began to rise. Soon, it was rock hard, begging for attention. I knelt on the bed directly behind Becky's upturned ass, straddling Marty's head with my knees. As I rubbed the head of my cock along Becky's now dripping slit, Marty pulled her head away. I placed the tip of my dick on Marty's lips, and her mouth opened, admitting my turgid member into her warmth. After a few seconds, I pulled out of her mouth, grabbed Becky's hips, and in one long, slow thrust, buried my prick in Becky's steaming pussy. I held there, balls deep in that moist, tight hole, savoring the sensation as I ground my pelvis against her ass. Then I began pumping in slow, rhythmic strokes.

When I pulled back, I could see Marty staring transfixed, watching her lover's pussy being filled with hard cock. "Don't be a spectator, Marty!" I cajoled, "Join in the fun." Marty lifted her head and began licking at her lover's clit and pussy. I would pull my cock almost all the way out, and Marty would stroke the underside with her tongue for a moment before I would ram it home again. Becky was moaning clearly in unabashed pleasure. She had released Marty's cock, obviously unable to absorb this much sexual stimulation and give a decent blowjob at the same time.

We fucked this way for what seemed like hours. Finally I felt my balls begin to tighten and quiver as they prepared to deliver. I pulled out of Becky's pussy, and began stroking my cock furiously. It quickly erupted, sending stream after stream of steaming spunk splashing over Becky's ass and slit, before dripping down onto Marty's face. I slid back off the bed and stood, swaying on Jell-O legs. Becky lay slumped on top of Marty, her ass perched high, glistening with sweat and semen. I staggered around to the other side of the bed. Becky's face was nestled in Marty's crotch, her blonde hair splayed across her lover's groin. In her right hand, she clutched Marty's cock, still rock hard, protruding through the tangle of golden curls like a flagpole.




Fair Game Ch. 2



"Hey," I said, "Marty hasn't cum yet!" Becky raised her head and glared at me. Then her gaze fell on the turgid member in her hand. Her expression softened. The cock did not. She lifted herself up a bit further, positioning her face above the throbbing shaft. She placed a loving kiss on the flaming purple head, and then, gently caressing and fondling Marty's balls in her left hand, she began sucking and stroking that huge prick in a slow, wet rhythm.

While Becky ministered to Marty's member, my attention turned to the bureau next to me. I opened the top drawer. Inside, right on top, was the black leather studded collar I had seen Becky put on that first, fateful night. But there was more... so much more. The right side of the bureau drawer was crammed with toys; whips, dildos, vibrators, handcuffs, you name it!

The left side contained an assortment of lingerie. I use the term loosely, as some of these items were little more that threads attached to a tiny triangle of silk. I pulled out a pair of panties, mere wisps of white satin, crotchless, with a thong back. A wicked idea began to form. Rummaging further, I found a half bra, designed to lift the breasts proudly forward, while leaving the nipples on display. I dropped these garments on top of the bureau, and looked back at my newfound friends. Becky was so absorbed in giving Marty her blowjob, and Marty so absorbed in receiving it, that they didn't even know I was there. I went to the closet and began flipping through the hangers. I found a long, silk peasant skirt, very sheer, nearly transparent, hung over a white slip that rendered it wearably modest. I removed the skirt, and put the slip back in the closet.

Further down, I came across a white blouse, also silk, also sheer, also suitable for public wear only if accompanied but appropriate undergarments. I took the blouse off of the hanger, dropped the hanger on the floor. I turned back to my dynamic duo just as Marty was nearing her climax. Her legs stiffened as Becky pumped furiously up and down, taking as much of that massive meat as possible down her throat. Marty let out a rather un-feminine groan, and I saw Becky falter, trying valiantly to suck down every drop of Marty's seed. She was not up to the task, and pearly rivulets slid down the red, swollen shaft, forming small milky pools on Becky's hand where it still griped the base.

With a parting kiss on the crown of Marty's cock, Becky rolled over onto her back and lay in satiated exhaustion, her legs slightly spread. Beads of my cum glistening in her pubic hair, while Marty's added a sheen to her lips. Her eyes were closed. With each deep breath, her magnificent breasts, flushed pink with sexual fervor, rose and fell deliciously. I savored this sight for a few minutes. Then I gathered up the crotchless panties and half bra, together with the outfit I had selected from the closet, and dropped it on the bed next to Becky's naked, prostrate form. She opened her eyes slightly, squinting in annoyance, and looked at the clothes.

"What now?" she asked caustically, "Are we supposed to play dress-up?"

"No," I replied, "That is the outfit you will wear to school tomorrow. She looked at the clothes more closely now, picking up each piece. When she realized the implications of this outfit, she sat bolt upright. "You can't be serious!" she cried, "Do you have any idea how much trouble I'll get into?!"

"That's your problem." I said, and walked out of the room. I went to the chair where Marty had neatly hung my jeans and slipped them on. I never had removed my shirt. I put on my shoes and called to the bedroom "Ladies! It's time to bid your master farewell." There was much grumbling, and more than a few barely audible curses, but they soon emerged. Becky walked stiffly, the stride of a well-fucked woman. Marty's cock, still impressive even as it waned, swung lazily, a last drop of cum clinging possessively to the tip.

I motioned to the front door, and they obediently walked toward it. Becky grabbed the doorknob, and waited. "I want to thank you ladies for a most memorable evening." I announced as I strode toward the door, "The first of many, I assure you." Becky opened the door halfway, concealing herself and her naked partner behind it.

I gave Martha a playful swat on the ass as I passed. "See ya around, Marty", I said cheerily. Then I brought my hand up behind Becky's head, tangling my fingers in her disheveled blonde curls. I pulled her face to mine and gave her a deep, probing kiss. The salty taste of Marty's cum still flavored her lips. "See you tomorrow", I said, and strode triumphantly out the door thinking "Master David"! I like the sound of that!

To Be Continued...



Fair Game Ch. 3



The story so far: Armed with a video of my beautiful but evil English teacher, Becky "Ballbreaker" Beakman having wild, sadomasochistic sex with her transsexual lover, I, David Finch (Now known as "Master David"), have made the hapless Miss Beakman and her partner Martha my sex slaves.

Sitting in the library, ostensibly working on my term paper, my mind wandered back over the events of the past few days. At the end of my first evening of sordid sexual excess with my reluctant submissives, I had picked out a very special outfit for the voluptuous Miss Beakman to wear to school the next day. When I walked into English class, I saw that she had complied with my request, almost. She was wearing the gauzy silk skirt, without a slip, which afforded us a very clear view of her shapely legs. But she had topped it with a long blazer that hid her most valuable assets. I stood in the back of the room and stared disapprovingly at her. She could not ignore me for long, and soon returned my gaze with a pleading look. It was quickly obvious that I was unmoved, and she hesitantly removed the jacket and hung it over the back of her chair.

The effect was more than I had hoped for. The thin material of her skirt clung deliciously to her perfectly rounded ass. The back of her thong panties disappeared between her cheeks, giving the impression that she was naked under her diaphanous attire. Only when she turned to face me could I see the faint hint of a white, lacy triangle struggling to contain her pouting pubes. Her blouse was every bit as sheer as the skirt. The half bra displayed her perfect breasts proudly, the dark pink nipples plainly visible through the thin white material.

As my fellow students filed in, their usual loud banter turned quickly to subdued whispers, if not stunned silence. Many of them crashed into desks as they attempted to navigate through the aisles without taking their eyes off of the vision before them. Once we were all seated, with much squirming and readjusting of body parts, Becky announced that for today's class, we would be working on a written exercise. She then handed stacks of papers to the person at the front of each row, and retreated to the safety of her desk. Her plan was to remain safely hidden until the end of the period. Well, we couldn't have that! I waited for about 5 minutes, then raised my hand. "Yes, Mister Finch", she said icily.

"Miss Beakman", I replied sweetly, "I'm having trouble understanding this first part here. Could you come take a look at it?" She started to protest, but quickly realized that I would not be dissuaded. She pushed back brusquely from her desk and headed to the back of the room where I was sitting. Her firm, angry stride made her tits bounce enticingly. Some students glanced furtively as she passed, while others stared outright. She reached my desk and leaned over my paper. As I enjoyed the fragrance of her perfume, I couldn't help but notice that her nipples had become very erect, straining against the flimsy fabric of her blouse. Fear, or lust? I couldn't tell.

"Nice try." I whispered.

Through clenched teeth she said "If you read the directions, Mister Finch, they're perfectly clear."

"Thank you, Miss Beakman." I replied respectfully, "You've been most helpful." She stomped back to her desk, and her ass was every bit as entertaining on the way down as her tits had been on the way up. No sooner had she reached her desk than another hand went up. Then another. Suddenly, everyone seemed to be having difficulty with this assignment. Imagine that! One bright boy even managed come up with a problem that could only be explained by having her diagram it on the board. Her shaky penmanship went unnoticed as eighteen pairs of eyes were riveted to that magnificent ass.

That was but one of the many escapades I had enjoyed at Becky Beakman's expense over the past week. My favorite so far was two nights ago. I instructed Becky to purchase a large, inflatable kiddie pool, and several bottles of vegetable oil on her way home. That evening, Becky and her transsexual partner Martha cleared a space in the living room for the eight foot round, two foot deep pool, and then inflated it, by mouth and in the nude of course. While they huffed and puffed, I rummaged through their bureau, selecting two lacy camisole tops and two pairs of sheer panties. I also pulled out the short, black whip that I had seen Martha use that first, fateful night. I then changed into black shorts and a referee shirt I had swiped from the school gym. A whistle hung around my neck completed the costume. By the time I emerged from the bedroom, the girls had finished blowing up the pool and were sitting on the floor, gasping for breath. When they saw me in my outfit, they looked at one another with an expression of "He's GOT to be kidding!"

I wasn't. I tossed a pair of panties and a top to each of them. No instructions were needed. They grudgingly put the flimsy garments on. I then directed them to the center of the pool, and handed each of them a bottle of oil. "I'm sure ladies of your caliber rarely attend sordid events like oil wrestling matches," I began, "so allow me to explain a few rules. You will begin by dousing each other with the oil. And don't be stingy, we have plenty. At the sound of the whistle, you'll come out fighting. The winner will be the first one to pin their opponent three times. That's both shoulders on the floor for a count of three." Becky and Martha looked at each other with conspiratorial grins. "Of course, what would a contest be without a prize?" I pulled the whip out of my back pocket, and watched their grins vanish. "The winner gets to use this on the loser. And if I don't get a good fight, if I don't see some hellacious clothes-ripping, hair-pulling, tit-squashing wrestling action, then you both lose, and I give you both a whipping. Any questions?"

If they had any questions, they were too afraid to ask them. "Well, then," I announced, "Let the games begin!" Becky and Martha began pouring the oil down each other's fronts. I could see that there wouldn't be nearly enough, so I popped the tops off of two more bottles and joined them in the ring. Soon they were both glistening with the slick oil. As their tops became soaked, they turned nearly transparent, clinging to every curve. When all four bottles of oil were empty, I removed them from the "ring" (Safety First!) and blew my whistle to start round one.

My reluctant gladiators sort of danced with each other for a while, unsure of how to begin. They obviously needed some motivation. I picked up the whip and brought it down hard on an end table. A load CRACK reverberated through the living room, making both women jump. With a look of desperation, Martha lunged at Becky. Becky's feet slipped out from under her, and they both crashed to the floor. Though smaller, Martha had the upper body strength of a man, and quickly gained the upper hand. As they wrestled in the puddle of oil, Marty's cock clipped out through the leg opening of her panties. Grappling with her slick, soaked lover was getting Marty excited, as evidenced by her rapidly growing prick. She managed to get both of Becky's arms on the mat, but not before snapping the shoulder strap of her inadequate costume. I counted to three, slapping the mat with each count for emphasis, then blew my whistle, awarding the pin to Martha. As I rose, I slapped her on the ass and exclaimed "Atta boy! Girl. Whatever. Round two!"

They staggered to their feet and waited for the whistle. Becky actually seemed pissed at having been pinned. There was a definite "You're Next!" look in her eye. I blew the whistle for the next round. Marty again lunged at Becky. But this time Becky sidestepped, grabbing the front of Marty's shirt and trying to spin her around. There was a ripping sound, and Marty sprawled topless into the edge of the pool, leaving Becky holding an oily rag. While Becky stared at the destroyed camisole, Marty sprang forward and grabbed her opponent around the waist. She straightened up, flipping Becky over her shoulder. Becky scrambled forward, her legs flailing, trying to break free. Marty held tight, but Becky was so slippery that all she succeeded in doing was peeling Becky's panties down to her knees before she was finally able to kick free. Becky retreated to the edge of the ring. She tried pulling her panties back on, but immediately discovered that the waistband had snapped on one side. She let out a frustrated scream, and ripped the other side open, tossing the dripping wisp of fabric out of the ring.

As I watched the spectacle before me, my own cock began to throb uncomfortably in my shorts. I stripped them off, and let my mighty member swing free. I scooped up a handful of oil from the ring, and spread it over my dick, casually stroking as I watched the battle. Marty was just turning toward Becky when she sprang forward, knocking her backward. Becky was straddling Marty's hips as she tried for the pin. Marty's cock and balls were now hanging completely out of the ruined panties, and her turgid prick was straining, bumping up against Becky's oil slicked pussy. I couldn't resist. I jumped into the ring, dropped to my knees, grabbed Marty's cock, and began rubbing it against Becky's slit. They both froze. I pushed the bulbous head of Marty's cock into Becky's opening, which was wet with much more than vegetable oil, and began feeding that hard shaft into her. They needed little encouragement. Marty started pumping slowly, as Becky lowered herself down, meeting every thrust.

As they fucked, I was mesmerized by Becky's delightfully puckered asshole dancing up and down before me. I brought my oil-drenched hand up to her ass, and began rubbing my thumb around her nether hole. I pushed, and my thumb slid easily into her slippery anus. I started fucking her ass with my thumb in time to Marty's rhythm. She let out a soft moan of pleasure. I had to do it! I withdrew my thumb, positioned myself behind the copulating couple, and pressed the head of my slippery dick to her ass. Becky tried to pull away, but I grabbed her hips and thrust forward, pushing my cock head past her rubbery opening, and sinking the first few inches of my prick in her ass. She let out a gasp, more of dismay than discomfort.

But Martha's rhythm had never faltered, and soon Becky was caught up in the sensation of her double penetration. I started stroking in and out of her hole, sinking a little deeper with each thrust, until I felt my balls sliding against Martha's on each down stroke. I had fucked some tight pussies in my time, but nothing compared to the searing embrace my happiest of body parts was enjoying right now. Soon, the mingled moans of my two love slaves signaled their impending orgasms. I, too, felt my balls tightening in expectation. Martha let out an animal groan, thrusting deep into her lover's cunt, her thighs quivering with spasms of release. Becky joined the duet with a chorus of "Yes! Yes!" as her own orgasm crested. That was too much for me, and I came, flooding Becky's hot rear with my spunk. We collapsed, sliding into a tangle of oily humanity. I decided that, although there had been no winner in the wrestling match, my servants had performed well. I would spare the lash.

The memory of that night brought a grin to my face as I packed up my books and walked out of the library to my car. The early June sun was beaming joy upon my world. Summer was here, graduation was at hand, and I was living a life of sexual excess that was the stuff of dreams. "David," I said to myself as I unlocked the car door, "Life just doesn't get any better than this!" ...or does it?

"Excuse me." A small voice piped up behind me. I turned and looked down into a pair of crystal blue eyes, surrounded by sun-dappled corn silk hair. "I don't know if you remember me." She said. Remember! Who could forget Angela Kelly? Angie was on the cheerleading squad that our sister school provided for our home games, seeing as how none of the students at my all-boys school looked very fetching in those short skirts. Angie was a tiny thing, about five foot nothing. She had slender, almost boyish hips, but her tiny waist gave the impression of a feminine swell. Her 34-C breasts would have done a taller woman proud. On Angie, they seemed enormous, almost comical. But the overall image was an irresistible combination of innocence and raw sex appeal.

"Sure I do, Angie", I replied, "What's up?"

"Wellll..." she began coyly, "I heard about the video in Beakman's class. Word is that you were behind it. Is it true?" I smiled evasively.

"Could be" I teased.

"I knew it!" Becky squeaked. "I also heard that it wasn't just some porn tape in there; that you took the video." Wow! I was kind of surprised how far the speculation had spread. I had to be careful, but I didn't want to stop this tantalizing conversation.

"Well, I really can't say. There are reputations at stake."

Angie pouted, "But you can tell me. I'd do anything to know who was on that film." I smiled lasciviously at her.

"Anything?" I asked, only half jokingly. She took a step toward me. Her breasts were practically pressed against my stomach, her perfume wafted deliciously around me. She looked me straight in the eye, and in an unmistakably direct voice said "Anything."

My pulse raced and my pants grew tighter as the implications of her offer sunk in. Struggling to maintain my composure, I stammered, "Um... well... uh, Sure! Why don't we get together tonight and talk about.... Anything."

"Why wait till tonight?" she replied seductively, "Why not right now?"

"Now!" I squeaked, "Um, sure. Only problem is, where? My Mom's home, and she's funny about me bringing girls to my room." (Good thing, too. I haven't cleaned my room since I was twelve. One look at that pig sty, and the deal would be off!)

"Yeah, mine too." Angie said thoughtfully. Then with a mischievous grin "We could try the observatory." The "Observatory" was an old naval observation station built into the hillside just outside of town. It was constructed during the cold war, and had been abandoned for 15 years or more. Some local kids had fixed up one of the rooms in it as a make-out spot, complete with a bed and some other pieces of salvaged furniture. I was surprised Angie knew about it. She had a reputation as kind of a goody two-shoes. Guess you can't believe everything you hear.

Five minutes later, we were cruising up the mountainside. "So," Angie asked "Who is the mystery lady in the video?"

"Oh no." I replied teasingly, "First I need to know what 'anything' means."

Angie smiled wickedly. "Don't worry. You'll find out." I floored the accelerator, and in no time we were at the concrete barricade that the Navy had erected in a futile attempt to keep people out of the abandoned station, which lay less than a quarter mile up a broken concrete road. Angie and I walked up in awkward silence. As we approached the observatory, Angie stopped and took hold of my arm.

"Before we go in," she began apprehensively, "There's something you should know about me."

"Oh shit!" I thought, "Here it comes; a litany of things that 'good girls' don't do."

"I know I have a reputation as a 'goody-goody'," she continued nervously, "But the fact is, I like the rough stuff!" My jaw dropped to the ground! As I wiped gravel from my chin, she continued, "Don't get me wrong; regular sex is ok. But the only way I can really get off is if I'm with a man who knows what he wants, and can make me give it to him. Think you can handle that, Stud?"

I quickly recovered from the shock of this revelation, and gave Angie my most lascivious leer. Then I bent down, hooked my arm around her butt, and threw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Letting loose a rebel yell, I sprinted the last few yards to the observatory. As I walked down the maze of corridors, Angie squirmed and kicked in mock dismay. I flipped up the back of her schoolgirl skirt, and gave her panty-clad ass a hard smack. "Shut up, Bitch!" I commanded, really getting into my role. My recent experience dominating Becky and Martha was serving me well.

When we reached the make-out room, I flung Angie down onto the bed, eliciting a flutter of squeaks from the springs of the ancient mattress. Beside the bed, there was small sofa and two mismatched end tables. On one stood an oil lamp, to provide light on those lucky nights. We wouldn't need it. The bedspread someone had hung to act as a curtain on the only window had lost a hook, and now dangled like a dishrag to one side, allowing plenty of afternoon sun to flood the room. Angie lay sprawled on the bed, the sunlight glistened in her blond hair. Her skirt was hiked up almost to her waist, allowing a generous glimpse of white panties.

The top two buttons of her uniform blouse had come undone, exposing her disproportionately large breasts, nestled in a lacy bra. She looked at me with a combination of lust and fear that stoked the fire in my loins. I ripped off my belt and yanked my pants halfway down my thighs. My engorged cock jutted out at a menacing angle, casting a shadow on the bed like a sundial. I reached down, gathered up a handful of blonde curls, and roughly pulled Angie's face to my crotch. "Suck it, slut!" I ordered.

Angie opened her cupie-doll lips and engulfed the head of my cock in her warm, wet mouth. Sliding her tongue back and forth on the underside of my prick, she slowly took in its whole length, until her nose was nestled in my pubic hair. The ease with which my cock slid down her throat told me that this chick was no stranger to cock-sucking. Suddenly, she gagged and coughed, expelling most of my dick. Maybe she wasn't such an expert after all. Rising to my macho role, I grabbed two handfuls of hair and began pumping in and out of her mouth. "What's the matter, Babe?" I sneered as I fucked her face, "Too much meat for ya?" Angie grabbed my naked hips for balance as she licked and sucked my pounding pud. I reached down between her arms, and ripped her shirt the rest of the way open, sending a button skittering to the floor. Her bra clasped in the front (one of man's greatest inventions!), and with a quick flick, her creamy breasts spilled from their confines. I grabbed one tit in each hand and mauled them, pinching the pale, pink nipples roughly between my thumb and forefinger. Angie squealed and moaned. Obviously, she was loving it.

I pulled my wet, raging cock out of Angie's mouth, and placed it between her tits. Pressing the warm, soft flesh around my prick, I began stroking up and down, fucking her tits. She bent her head down, so that with each upward thrust, the head of my cock would slide into her waiting mouth. After a few minutes of this, I could feel the cum boiling in my balls. Not wanting to pop just jet, I pulled back. Climbing up near the head of the bed, I flipped Angie around so that she was facing the foot, her delicious rear thrust high in the air. I pulled her skirt up past her hips, and feasted my eyes on the delectable derriere before me. Grabbing the side band of her thin white cotton panties in both hands, I snapped it easily. Peeling back the ruined garment, I was greeted with a vision of heaven itself. Smooth white cheeks framed the cutest asshole I had ever seen, perched invitingly above an almost painfully sweet little pussy. Scant wisps of baby-soft pale yellow hair peeked cautiously from between her legs. I reached back, and brought my hand down on her right ass cheek with a resounding slap, then followed with the left. "You want my cock in that tight little pussy, don't you slut?!" I bellowed. Her reply was a muffled moan. I smacked each cheek again, harder this time. "I said, you want my cock, right?" I commanded menacingly.

"Yes." Came the almost inaudible reply. Another round of ass-reddening swats.




Fair Game Ch. 3



"I can't hear you!" I taunted, "Tell me that you want me to fuck your sweet pussy with my big fat cock, Bitch!"

"Yes." She gasped, or was it a sob? "Yes, I want you to fuck me."

"That's better", I said with an evil grin. I positioned my throbbing prick at her sweet hole, and with a single thrust, buried myself balls deep in perhaps the tightest pussy of my distinguished career as a fornicator. Angie let out a high pitched squeal. Well, she wanted rough, she got rough!

Holding onto Angie's slim hips for dear life, I fucked her furiously from behind, my cum-heavy balls slapping against her clit with each feverish thrust. It didn't take long before the old boy was ready to burst. In an amazing flash of lucidity, considering the circumstances, I realized that I didn't know if she was using birth control. I knew I wasn't, and as much as I wanted to flood this incredible snatch with my juice, I wasn't ready for fatherhood. Looking down, her sweet, puckered nether-hole winked invitingly. Well, she did say "anything"! I pulled out of her pussy and used my dick as a paintbrush, coating Angie's back door with the juice flowing from her sopping cunt. As Angie turned her head to see what I was up to, I spread her ass cheeks wide, positioned my engorged prick at her rear opening, and pressed forward. As the head of my dick intruded past the rubbery sphincter, Angie let out a strangled groan. Pain or pleasure, I couldn't tell, nor did I much care. Slapping both palms down hard on her upturned, violated ass, I began pumping deeper and deeper Angie's impossibly tight, hot hole. It only took a few strokes before my balls boiled over, sending my hot spunk flooding into her chocolate channel in a shuddering orgasm that seemed to last forever.

As my lusty spasms subsided, and my vision cleared, I saw Angie, her face buried in the crumpled sheets, shuddering in the throes of her own orgasm. I pulled out of her and sat back on the bed, watching my jism ooze out of her bung hole, dribbling down over her puffy, red pussy, before dripping onto the sheet to join the stains of prior romantic encounters. Angie remained in her prostrate position until her quaking subsided, and her breathing returned to normal. Reaching back, she removed her ruined panties, which were dangling from her left leg, and used the scarp of material to wipe our co-mingled juices from her crotch. Then she sat up and bean readjusting her clothing, looking annoyed at the missing button on her shirt. "You OK?" I asked.

"Sure", she replied unconvincingly. An uneasy silence followed us as we walked back to my car and began the drive home.

"Well?" I said at last.

"Well what?"

"Don't you want to know who was in the video?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah." Angie said, "Who is it?"

"Well, I hope you won't be too disappointed, but I don't know. It really was just copied from a porn tape". Angie gave me an incredulous look. She obviously didn't believe me. But there was no way I was going to jeopardize my setup with my sex slaves by telling her the truth.

"Doesn't really matter." She said with a mischievous smile, "I wasn't all that interested in the video. I just wanted to get you up to the observatory."

"Jeez, Angie," I laughed, "You didn't have to go through all that. A simple 'Wanna fuck?' would have done it."

"I'm sure." She replied, "But I didn't want you to think I was a slut or anything."

I pulled the car into Angie's driveway and killed the engine. "Can I see you again?" I asked. "Oh yes." She said, again with that sexy look of mischief in her smile, "I'm, sure we'll see each other again real soon. She gathered up her books and walked into the house. As I watched that delectable ass twitch away under her short, plaid skirt, I thought "That is one strange girl. A great fuck, but definitely strange."

To Be Continued...



Fair Game Ch. 4



Pt. IV - "Teacher's Pet"

The story so far: Armed with an incriminating video tape, David Finch has forced his beautiful but evil English teacher, and her transsexual lover, to be his sex slaves, fulfilling his every sordid adolescent fantasy. As if that weren't enough, news of David's exploits have caught the attention of Angela Kelly, a local cheerleader, who proved herself as skillful on a bed as she is on the sidelines. Young David is truly on top of the world, too giddy with satiated lust to realize that pride cometh before the fall.

The Cheshire cat grin never left my face as I drove home from Angie's house. I simply could not believe my good fortune. Not only did I have the delectable Miss Becky Beakman and her bizarre but fascinating lover as my own personal sex slaves, but now I had a gorgeous cheerleader making up elaborate schemes to get me in bed with her! Maybe there was a God after all. And if so, he's a huge David Finch fan!

I hadn't planned on visiting Becky and Marty tonight. But after my episode with Angie, I was feeling hornier than ever. When I got home, I called Becky's number. Marty answered. "Hello, slave." I said haughtily. "Master David has decided to grace you with his presence tonight. I will arrive at eight. I expect you to be suitable dressed... the leather, I think. I'm feeling rather kinky tonight."

"Don't worry, 'Master David'", came the sarcastic reply, "We'll be ready for you." As I hung up the receiver, it occurred to me that Martha, who had always been the more defiant of the two, was getting out of hand. I would have to discipline her; remind her who was in charge. As I undressed and headed for the shower, I contemplated various ways to show my belligerent slave how to behave. Perhaps the whip was in order, I thought, as I adjusted the water temperature to the way I liked it; just a shade below scalding. Lathering up in the steaming spray, I entertained visions of reddening Marty's androgynous ass with her own leather whip. My cock began to swell in anticipation. Down Boy! There will be time for that later.

I arrived at "The Love Shack", as I had begun to think of Becky's house, precisely at eight. The door opened even before I knocked. Very good. I strode in, master of my domain. As I had instructed, both Becky and Martha were dressed in leather. Becky wore a shiny black leather mini skirt atop spike-heeled pumps that accentuated her long, slender legs. The matching bustier top was laced tightly up the center, barely able to contain her bountiful breasts. Martha's white leather skirt was longer, but slit up both sides to the hip, showing an abundance of shapely leg. Her top, also white, was similar to Becky's, though not as challenged by her more modest bosom. "Well done, ladies", I congratulated them, "Master David is very pleased. You may now greet me with a kiss." Becky strode confidently forward, stopping inches in front of me. I was so engrossed in her incredible cleavage that I didn't notice her right hand until it crashed into the side of my face in a jaw-rattling right cross! I staggered a couple of steps, as much from shock as the impact.

"Are you mad?!?" I asked incredulously once my head cleared.

"Shut up, Finch!" Becky snapped, picking up the TV remote. "The game's over." With that, she clicked on the TV. At first I thought it was just some porn flick. Some guy was fucking this cute blonde from behind. Then I looked closer. Holy shit! That's not some guy! That's ME! Fucking Angela!!!

"Where the hell did you get this?" I demanded. In response, Becky called out "Come on in, dear". The bedroom door opened, and in walked Angela! My jaw dropped. My brain was spinning. "Yes, Aunt Becky?" Angela said, innocently. "But.... Wha.... I.... Aunt Becky?!?!" I stammered.

"That's right, asshole", Marty said. "You've got your video, and now we have ours."

I slowly began to collect my thoughts. "Wait a minute" I said at last, "You don't have dick! Angela's over 18. What are you going to do, show everyone that I screwed a cheerleader? Oh, horrors!" I exclaimed in mock dismay, "I wouldn't want that to get around!"

"No, idiot", Becky explained, "We're not going to show your pals that you screwed Angela. We're going to show the police that you raped Angela!"

I looked at the three women, each with an expression as smug as the others. "You'll never get them to believe that. It will be her word against mine."

"Oh, they'll believe it." Angela said, "Because the first officer we're going to tell is Sargent Kelly, or should I say, 'Daddy'."

My heart sank. I had met Sargent Kelly only once. He stopped me for a running a stop sign. The rumor was that he had a promising career as a defensive lineman, but he had injured so many players that none of the major teams would touch him. I remembered the blistering lecture he had given me, ranting about how punks who disregarded the law should be horse-whipped! And that was for running a stop sign!

"OK," I sighed, "You win. I guess this makes us even. I'll give you my tape, and you give me yours. Well, it was nice while it lasted."

"Even?" Becky asked. "Oh I hardly think we're even, David. You see, if you show your tape, Martha and I will suffer some humiliation. I may even lose my job. But if I show this tape, you're looking at ten to fifteen years in jail. And that's if you live long enough to go to trial. You see, my brother is quite sure his little girl is a virgin." I stared at Becky in disbelief. Then I looked again at the tape. I was fucking Angela in the ass, and the look of pain and degradation on her face was Oscar-worthy. She had even squeezed out a couple of tears. There was no doubt; anyone who saw this tape without knowing the truth would see a rape. She had me by the balls.

"You bitch!" I hissed.

"Count on it!" she spat back.

So, what do you want?" I asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

"What do you think I want?" she sneered, "Now, STRIP!" I looked around at my tormentors. Martha, particularly, seemed to be enjoying herself. The tables had turned. The slaves were now the masters; the master now a slave, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. With trembling hands, I began to remove my clothes. Soon, I was standing naked before them. I clasped my hands in front of my fear-shriveled cock. "Hands at your sides!" Martha barked. I quickly complied.

"So, Angela," Becky asked, "do you want first crack at him? You've earned it."

"Thank you, Aunt Becky. That's very sweet of you." Angela replied, "But I have to get home and study. Finals, you know. And besides," she stood before me and gave my withered cock a playful squeeze, "I've already had him. And to be honest, it wasn't that great." Becky and Martha roared with laughter. Then, with many thanks, they bid Angela farewell, and turned their attention back to me.

"You know, Martha, I hardly know where to begin" Becky said.

"Well I do!" Martha replied. She walked behind me, and almost instantly I felt the sharp sting of the whip on my bare ass. "On your knees, slave!" Martha barked. I clumsily did as I was told. There were sounds of rustling material, then Martha came around in front of me. She had removed her skirt. Her semi-erect but growing cock swung before me. "Suck it!" she commanded. I just knelt there, dumbstruck, watching as her member grew longer and thicker. Grabbing a handful of my hair, she pulled me to her crotch. "I said Suck It!" she barked.

I opened my mouth, allowing the bulbous, swollen head past my lips. I wasn't sure what to do next, so I just moved my head back and forth. "You're going to have to do better than that, slave," Martha taunted, "or the next cock you suck will be your cell mate's!" I knew she meant it, so I started doing the things I liked done to me. I drew the throbbing member as far into my mouth as I could without gagging, sliding my tongue around the underside. Then I pulled back and concentrated on the head, licking the sensitive glans and probing the slit with my tongue. Martha began to moan softly and rotate her hips, fucking my face. Still holding onto my hair, she thrust her cock deep into my mouth, causing me to gag as it entered my throat.

Martha released me, coughing and retching. "Well, that was pathetic!" she complained. "I can see you're going to need a lot more practice."

"Let's see if he does any better with pussy." Becky suggested. I looked up to see that Becky had moved to an overstuffed armchair. She was slouched back with one leg thrown over each arm, fully exposing her snatch and asshole. It was clear from her swollen and glistening pussy lips that she had been playing with herself while watching me give her lover head. "Come here, slave," Becky commanded, "and eat me." I started to rise, but Martha grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down.

"Not like that! Crawl to your mistress like the dog you are!"

"Yes, mistress." I replied obediently. I knew the rules. After all, I had written them. I crawled on my hands and knees to where Becky lay waiting, lazily pulling on her outer lips, opening her pussy wide.

"Make me come, slave." Becky sneered. "That's an order." I stuck out my tongue and licked her juicy pussy from bottom to top, swirling around her clit. Becky sucked air through her teeth. "Oooh yeah, "she hissed "That's it. Suck that pussy. And my ass.... Kiss my ass, you blackmailing son of a bitch! Lick it! Stick our tongue in it!".

Less enthusiastically, I did as I was commanded, placing a tentative kiss on her puckered rear hole. I alternated between licking her luscious pussy, and rimming her bung-hole. Just as I was starting to think this slave gig might not be so bad after all, I felt a strange sensation on my ass. Something cool and wet was being smeared between my cheeks. I started to turn to see what Martha was up to, but Becky grabbed my hair with both hands and pulled me back into her crotch.

"I didn't tell you to stop!" she said, smacking me on the head for emphasis. I could scarcely breathe as she ground her pussy into my mouth and nose. Suddenly, I felt something soft, yet firm nudging against my asshole

"Oh my God!" I realized, "Marty's going to fuck me up the ass!" I tried to pull away. But Becky had wrapped her legs around my head, and was holding me in a suffocating vice grip. With Becky's thighs pressed against my ears, Martha's voice was muffled as she said "Don't fight it, stud. It'll just make it hurt more!". There was a moment of searing fire as Marty forced the first few inches past my reluctant sphincter.

The first thrusts brought white-hot pain and pressure, which eased slowly as she began to pump slowly, fucking my virgin ass. I was shocked to realize that, despite the pain and humiliation, my own cock was now rock hard! As I sucked feverishly at Becky's dripping cunt, Martha pumped in and out of my ass with increasing urgency, massaging my prostate, and bringing me to the brink of my own orgasm. My tongue was hammering on Becky's clit, and she began panting "Yes! Yes! I'm cumming! I'm CUMMING!!!!" Just then, Martha let out a groan, and I could feel hot spunk flowing where hot spunk had never gone before! My brain was so overloaded with these new sensations that I almost didn't realize that I was cumming too! Without so much as touching my dick, I had shot my load onto the carpet!

Becky released her death grip on my head, and I gulped for air. Just then, Marty withdrew from my butt. I could feel the hot cum dripping slowly down over my balls. I raised myself up on my haunches. Becky was staring at me with a look of victorious contempt. But when her gaze fell to my dripping cock, and then to the soiled carpet, her expression changed to pure rage. "Who told you you could cum?!" She shreiked, "And on my carpet! Clean that up immediately!" I started to rise, to look for a towel, but was stopped cold by Martha, who said, "Not like that! Lick it up, dog!" I shot a pleading look at Becky, but her vicious smile told me I was looking for mercy where none existed. Fighting a wave of nausea, I bent down, and began to lick my salty semen from the rug, stopping occasionally to scrape bits of carpet fiber off my tongue.

With their sexual needs satisfied, for the moment anyway, my mistresses' domination took a more pragmatic turn. Becky brought out a frilly lace apron, which she tied around my waist. It did little to hide my nakedness; just made me look like a fool. They then set me to work, washing dishes, vacuuming scrubbing the bathroom. Frequently, they would walk by, slap me sharply on the ass, and point out a spot I had missed. It was after eleven before they tired of abusing me, and I was permitted to dress.

As I was putting on my clothes, Becky and Martha traded ideas on how they would abuse me the next time I was ordered to come by. "I have several friends who would love to have a crack at that tight little ass of yours!" Marty said gleefully. "Hmmm," Becky mused "We could even charge them for it. Might as well make a little extra cash while we're at it.

Once I had finished dressing, I respectfully requested permission to go. Sounding bored, Becky replied, "I suppose so. How about you, Martha? Any further degradation you wish to inflict on young David here?"

"No," Martha said haughtily, "Let the slave get his beauty sleep. He'll need it for tomorrow night."

"Thank you, Mistresses", I said icily, and walked quickly toward the door. As I opened it, Becky called out "Oh, and by the way Master David, you just flunked English. See you in Summer school!"

The End