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Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8566                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:21
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year1/11
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
you want to help get her."
     Gary looked over a Neil, his eyebrows raised as if to ask
'are you in?'.
     "Aw, fuck it," Neil said finally, "I hate the bitch as much
as anybody. I'm in all the way."
     "Good," Gary nodded, "Cause when we're through with her,
she'll be the biggest slut in the history of Greenwood High."

                              *****

     The English exam was being held the following Monday, only
five days away, so they had to move quickly. The first step was
to get ahold of the exam questions beforehand, a proposition
which might have proved difficult but for the advances in
electronics technology which had culminated in the computer. Exam
papers were commonly written out on school computers and stored
in the school network, which allowed for "maximum flexibility
within the school bureaucracy regarding application of
secretarial assets". Incidentally, it also allowed someone with
the appropriate equipment and skills to break into the system and
download the required information without leaving any traces of
his actions.
     Gary, something of a hacker, had broken into the system a
number of times in the past with his home computer and modem and
was quite familiar with both the security measures and the layout
of information within the network. In the end, it took him all of
about twenty minutes to download the appropriate exam paper. Neil
and Sharon were impressed.
     "Jesus," she muttered, "I wish you'd told me about this
before I failed my fucking history test last year."
     Gary just shook his head. "I don't think this is the kind of
thing you want to do too often. If I go in often enough, they'll
figure out what's going on. I was saving if for a special
occasion." He looked up at his two friends and grinned
maliciously. "And I think this is it."

                              *****

     Frustrated, Stacy slammed the book shut. The exam was coming
up in just a few days, and there was no way she was going to be
ready. She had done her best to catch up on the first two months'
work in a couple of days, but it was almost impossible for her
even to get through the material in time for the test, much less
actually understand it. And there was impossible for her to cheat
on this exam the way she had in math. In that class, she had
gotten away with writing out a number of formulas and
applications on crib notes, but that just wouldn't work for an
English test. There was too much material to read and assimilate,
and without knowing exactly what material the test was going to
focus on, she was forced to try to learn it all in just a few
days: a daunting task at best, and almost certainly doomed to
failure. She was going to blow the test for sure!
     Stacy slumped back in her chair and stared at her pouting
reflection in the desk mirror. It wasn't fair. How could she be
expected to keep up with all of this classwork while at the same
time attend all the student council meetings as well as the swim
club practices each morning. It was impossible. They just
expected too much of her! She felt her large, green eyes brimming
with tears; she wanted to be Homecoming Queen so badly, and
now...
     She was interrupted from her self-pity by the ring of the
phone at her bedside. Sniffling, she got up and crossed the room
to answer it.
     "Hello?" It was Ashley, her friend from school. Careful to
disguise her inner turmoil (Ashley, like all of the other girls
in their particular clique, could smell weakness the way a shark
smells blood; any hint of a problem and it would be all over the
group by the end of the next school day, threatening Stacy's
position), Stacy fell easily into the standard school banter of
gossip, innuendo and casual put-downs of other students. Stacy
was good at this, and Ashley sensed nothing out of place.
     After a while, Neil's name came up, and Stacy happily
recounted the events of yesterday's math test. Ashley had almost
certainly heard about it by now, but the combination of a
first-hand account together with Stacy's particular style of
sarcastic humour made the story well worth hearing for a second
time. The two girls were soon laughing together at what had
happened.
     "Well," Ashley laughed at the end of the story, "It does
sound as if they made absolute assholes of themselves, alright.
And that threat of summer school must have scared the shit out of
them from what I heard."
     "What do you mean?"
     "I heard that Neil has got ahold of some of some of the exam
papers coming up. I guess he wants to bring up his overall  marks
so Edgar can't fail him or something like that."
     Stacy felt her heart jump a beat as her breath caught in her
chest. Neil had copies of future exams? "Where did you hear
that?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual. Evidently she
had succeeded, as Ashley failed to detect the change of mood.
     "Laura told me," she answered, "I think she heard it from
Sharon, although why she was talking to that cow, I don't know.
You remember Sharon? She was the one..." Ashley started to drone
on about Sharon, who was definitely not a part of their exclusive
clique, but Stacy wasn't listening. Neil had copies of some
upcoming tests.
      AND HE WAS IN HER ENGLISH CLASS!
     After a while, Ashley wound down, and Stacy let the
conversation die a natural death. While she was careful not to
mention Neil and the exam papers again, it was never far from her
mind. Finally, the two girls said goodbye and Stacy hung up the
phone.
     Thoughtful, she walked back to her desk and looked the pile
of unread English books. Cheating was a serious matter at
Greenwood (it had taken her a long time to screw up her courage
enough to do it during the math test), but stealing exam papers
was something else altogether. She remembered a guy who had been
caught with a stolen paper about four years ago, when she was in
her first year at the high school. He had not only been expelled,
but the school had prosecuted him for breaking and entering and
theft (they succeeded on the first count, but failed on the
second). It had been all over the papers in Bakersville. She
shuddered at the thought of that happening to her, but what was
the alternative?
      Besides, she thought, making up her mind, she wasn't going
to get caught; she was too smart for that.

                              *****

     It was all too easy!
      Stacy had approached him the next day - just as Gary had
predicted - and, in the guise of sympathizing with him over his
humiliation in Edgar's math class a couple of days ago, she had
sounded him out about the papers for the upcoming exams. As Gary
had instructed him, Neil pretended to be suffering from a bad
cold and sore throat, and lowered his voice to a rasp. Stacy
didn't seem notice; either she didn't care, or couldn't remember
what he normally sounded like. Probably both.
     Enjoying the experience of Stacy being friendly to him
(although aware that Stacy had skilfully manipulated the
circumstances of their "accidental" meeting in such a way as to
locate it in the Study Hall, which was usually deserted), Neil
drew the encounter out, repeatedly side-stepping her indirect
attempts to get him to admit to having the papers.
     Finally, she was forced to ask him directly: did he have
copies of the upcoming exam papers? Seemingly reluctant, Neil
eventually admitted that "yes" he happened to have some copies of
future exam papers, and "yes", in particular, he did have copy of
next week's English exam.
      "Why do you want to know?"
      Stacy looked down and flushed. When she looked like that,
Neil was almost willing to feel sorry for her. Almost. All he had
to do to push back any feelings of affection was remember the
bitchy way in she had rejected him last year and then gotten him
beaten up. He knew what she was like.
     "I want a copy of that exam," she admitted finally, "I need
it for this weekend."
     Neil pretended to be shocked. "Stacy, you mean you want a
copy of a stolen exam paper so you can cheat on next Monday's
English test?"
     Stacy swallowed back an angry retort. Couldn't he be a
little more subtle? Idiot! Still, there wasn't much she could do
about it. "Yes," she admitted, "I need it to pass the exam."
     Neil just stared at her, not saying anything.
         "I'll pay money," she added, "How about $100?"
     Still nothing. She was almost frantic.
     "Please?"
     "Alright," Neil relented, as if making up his mind, "I'll
sell you the stolen exam paper for $100." Stacy almost collapsed
with relief. Everything was going to work out!
     "Will that be all, Stacy, or do you want any more exams? I
can probably get whatever you want."
     Stacy looked up, excited. This would solve all of her
problems with the schoolwork. "That sounds great," she told him
enthusiastically, "I'll buy whatever you can get for the classes
I'm in. $100 a paper."
     "It's a deal." Neil could barely repress a grin of triumph.
They had her! Now, only one more thing... "Meet me tomorrow after
school in the woodworking shop. It should be deserted on Friday
afternoon."
     "Fine," Stacy agreed, "I'll be there." She turned to go.
     "Don't forget the money," he reminded her, but by then she
was gone.

                              *****

     "Remember," Gary repeated for what seemed like the hundredth
time, "keep your back to the wall and face slightly away from the
closet. Make sure that Stacy is always facing you so that we get
a good angle from where Sharon will be filming." Gary and Sharon
had cleared out one of the storage closets in the workshop, and
Sharon was set up inside with her video camera filming through a
knot-hole. Gary was set up with a still camera in the upper
storage area across the room. In order to cover the noise of the
camera, he had turned on the rotation fans which were fastened
from the ceiling; the resulting hum was more than sufficient to
mask any noise he might make.
      Satisfied at last that everything was in order and Neil knew
what to do, Gary climbed the short ladder to the storage area and
concealed himself behind a stack of wood. Neil watched him
disappear from view. After a quick glance to make certain the
closet door was properly closed, he sat back in a chair and
waited for Stacy.
     Stacy arrived ten minutes late, looking a little uncertain,
but determined to carry through. She crossed the room as Neil
watched in appreciation. She was wearing tight jeans and a white
blouse which left her tanned arms bear past the shoulder.
Bakersville was having an unusually long Indian Summer, and her
clothing reflected the fact of this unseasonable warmth. Neil got
hard imagining what lay beneath the blouse. Soon, he told himself
as Stacy approached him, soon he wouldn't have to imagine. He
stood up as she approached.
     "Well," she asked as she got to where he was standing, "Do
you have it?" She was more her usual bitchy self today, now that
she was getting what she wanted.
     Perfect, Neil noted silently. She's standing exactly where
Gary wanted her to stand. "I've got it," he told her in the same
gruff voice he had used the day before, "One stolen English exam
paper for Stacy Richards." He held up the computer printout. "And
my money?"
     Stacy reached into her pocket and pulled out the cash.
Silently, she handed it over to him. Just to make her angry, he
slowly and noisily counted the money, making a production of it.
"It's all there," she said angrily, "You don't have to worry
about that; now or in the future."
     "Fine," he answered, handing over the exam questions, "It's
all yours."
     In a hurry to leave, Stacy snatched the paper and quickly
scanned the contents. As promised, the paper contained the four
questions which would form the basis of next Monday's English
class examination.
     "Thanks," she said shortly, all business, and turned to walk
away.
     "Good luck with the test," he called after her, but she
ignored him and left the room.
     The room fell silent for a few second, and then Gary popped
up from behind the wood. "Looked good from here," he announced,
"I think I got some good shots." He began climbing down the
ladder as Neil walked over to the cupboard where Sharon was
hiding. He opened the door and helped her out from behind the
camera tripod.
     "That was great," she chortled, "I got everything."
     Neil reached into his jacket and pulled out the small
radio-microphone. He handed it over to Sharon who clipped it back
onto the video camera.
     "Well guys," Gary stated, "A little bit of editing, and I
think we have her."
     Neil began to get hard again, just thinking about what that
meant...

                              *****

     They waited almost two weeks before lowering the boom. By
that time, the English exam had come and gone, and Miss Frankel
had read out the marks in class. Stacy had received the highest
mark ever given out in Miss Frankel's English class, a fact
commented upon several times by the impressed teacher. Neil, on
the other hand, had barely passed. When his mark was announced,
Stacy gave him a startled glance, but then quickly looked away.
If he was so stupid that he could barely pass with advance notice
of the questions, that was his problem.
      By that time, Gary and Sharon had suitably edited the video
and audio evidence, and Gary had developed a large number of
prints from his still pictures of the event. Gary still hoped
that the audio tape would be enough on its own (he didn't want
Stacy to realise the extent of the plot against her), but if not,
the additional evidence was very convincing. Everything had
turned out perfect: Stacy's actions and words were crystal clear,
while Neil was unrecognizable. Between his disguised voice and
positioning during the filming, there was no way to prove the
identity of the person from whom Stacy bought the stolen exam
paper. Gary thought that this, along with the fact that Stacy had

-!- uugate 0.36 (OS/2 2.99)
 ! Origin: Anonymous contact service (2:200/427.1)


Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8569                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:21
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year2/11
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
irresistible for her.
      "You OK?" Gary broke into her thoughts. The camera was set
up in front of her, and everything was ready.
     "Gimmie a kiss," she ordered, reaching up. Gary leaned over
and kissed her fully on the mouth, his tongue playing with hers.
She could tell that he was as excited about what was going to
happen as she was, despite his calm manner. Maybe they had time
to...
     "Hey hey," Neil called out jokingly, entering the bedroom.
"This is supposed to be my night. Knock it off." Reluctantly,
Sharon let go of Gary and settled back down into her position in
the closet. Trust Neil to show up at the wrong time. Gary smiled
at her and shrugged his shoulders.
      "Later," he whispered.
     Sharon shivered as he partially closed the closet door,
leaving it open just a crack. "Shit," she muttered to herself,
trying to get comfortable. A few moments later, she was wishing
that she had a cigarette.

     Stacy preceded Neil into his bedroom and stood there while
he closed the door behind him. She was wearing blue jeans and a
yellow tee-shirt, and had her blonde hair pulled up into a simple
ponytail.
      "Like it?" Neil asked, gesturing vaguely towards the room.
Stacy looked around. It was a small, basement bedroom,
surprisingly bright considering the fact that there was only one,
small window. The light, however, did the room no favours. It
merely exposed the battered '70s-style wood panelling that
covered the walls. That, along with the worn shag carpet gave the
room a slightly sleazy look to it. More or less what Stacy would
have expected. Besides the bed  - a single bed, she noticed -
which sat in the corner of the room next to the closet, the only
furniture in the room was a battered couch and coffee table set
up under the window. The table was covered with comics and
magazines, as were the bookshelves which lines the wall over the
bed.
      "Nice," she said sarcastically. "I can see you've done a lot
with it." Before coming, she had decided to be as pliant as she
could be, to go along with everything as quickly as possible, but
now that she was here, she was unable to conceal her contempt and
anger.
     Neil did not react to her sarcasm. "Like a drink?" he asked,
pulling out a bottle from under the coffee table. "Whiskey. I'm
having one."
     The last thing Stacy wanted to do was hang around for a
casual drink, but as long as he was going to have one, she
figured she may as well have a drink as well. It might even make
things a little easier. "Yeah, fine," she answered. "With water."
Gingerly, she sat down on the edge of the couch, careful to avoid
the magazines and - she now saw - cigarette ashes which were
spread out on the cushion. Neil disappeared into the adjoining
bathroom and mixed the drinks. She heard the water running for a
moment, and then he returned with two glasses. He handed one to
her and then raised his drink in salute: "To us," he stated.
     Stacy just stared at him for a moment. Fuck you, she
thought. "To us," she echoed unwillingly, raising her own glass.
After this is over, she told herself, taking a sip of the drink,
I'm going to have to get this asshole taken care of. She knew a
few guys on the football team who...
     "So," Neil interrupted her thoughts, sitting down next to
her on the couch, "did you have a nice weekend?"
     Oh fine, she thought, small talk. Asshole. "Just great," she
answered sarcastically. "How about you?"
     "I've been horny all weekend," he told her, "thinking of
you."
     His directness and unapologetic crudity shook her, reminding
her of her situation, and why she was here. Best to get it over
with as soon as possible. Deliberately, she drained the glass in
one gulp and slammed it down on the coffee table. "Stop fucking
around. Let's get on with it."
     Neil, however, was in no hurry. He took a casual sip of his
drink and smiled at her. "Get on with what?"
     "You know." She gestured vaguely with her hand. "...It."
     "It?"
     "Sex," she blurted out. Just how stupid was he? "That's what
you want, isn't it? That's why I'm here, isn't it?" She flushed
and looked down. He wasn't making this easy on her.
     Neil suddenly reached over and grabbed her face, turning it
towards him so he could look straight into her large green eyes.
"No," he told her. "I don't just want 'sex'." He mimicked the way
she had reluctantly said the word. "I want to fuck you." He made
a point of emphasising the crudity. "We're going to fuck. Ball.
Screw. Get it on." He got up and walked to the bed, pulling his
shirt over his head; the complexion of his back matched that of
his face. "But first," he said, carelessly throwing the shirt
onto the floor beside the bed, "you're going to have to ask."
     "Ask?" Stacy's head swam in disbelief. She felt a little
dizzy, probably from the drink. "Ask?"
     Neil lay down on the bed, put his hands behind his head and
grinned over at her. "You're going to ask me to fuck you," he
told her. "And then, if you ask nicely, I'll do it."
     "You're out of your mind!" Stacy tried to get up from the
couch, but stumbled against the coffee table and sprawled back
onto her ass, knocking over a pile of magazines. "I'm not going
to ask you..."
     "Alright," Neil interrupted her. "Then go." He pointed
towards the door. "But by the end of the school day tomorrow,
that tape will be in Dr. Grossmann's office." (Dr. Grossmann
was the school principal.)
     Stacy lurched back to her feet, carefully this time, her
head spinning. "B-but..."
     "Well?" Neil was relentless. "What's it going to be?"
     Stacy grasped at a straw. "But you said yesterday that I
wasn't supposed to swear around you," she begged. "You said it
made me sound cheap." She was more than a little humiliated at
having to make this argument, but it was all she had. Surely he
wasn't going to force her to...
     "That was in yesterday," he told her, smirking. "Now, I want
you to sound cheap; you are cheap."
     "You bastard!" The tears were starting to flow down her
face. "You bastard."
      "It's your choice," he told her. "Take it or leave it.
Either you ask me real nice to fuck you, or you get the hell out
of here. What's it gonna be?"

     Gary watched intently from his position in the yard outside
the window. From where he sat, peering through a small opening in
the blinds, he could see everything that was happening, but was
unable to hear what was being said. Silently, he cursed himself
for not opening the window a crack, but it was too late for that.
Hopefully, Neil wasn't fucking up. Still, he would hear it all
later from the video tape. He hoped Sharon was ready.
     Inside, it looked as if things were shaping up nicely
despite his worrying. Neil had got Stacy to take the drink which
Gary had specially prepared for her. Beside the alcohol content,
he had mixed in a small amount of a depressant - to lower her
inhibitions  and a stimulant - to keep her awake and heighten her
senses. Between the two drugs, he hoped the mixture would have
the desired effect.
      From the look of things inside the bedroom, it was. Stacy
seemed confused and frightened. She had staggered to her feet and
moved towards the door as Neil had said something to her, but she
didn't leave - as Gary had known (hoped) she wouldn't - and had
turned back around to face Neil on the bed. Gary looked down to
make certain everything was ready with his camera. There should
be some interesting shots coming up...

     Stacy looked over at Neil, lying smug on the bed. She was
paralysed with indecision and disbelief. This couldn't be
happening to her; it couldn't! Her head swam. He couldn't be
expecting her to...
     "One more chance, Stace," he called over to her. "Ask or
leave."
     Stacy turned away from his leering face and leaned against
the bedroom door, trying to gather her thoughts. She was still
dizzy, though, and it was hard to think. Ask or leave... ask or
leave... What could she do?! Eventually, however, she came to the
only decision she could; there was no way she could let him
release that tape.
      OK you bastard she thought, drawing a deep, shuddering
breath, I'll give you what you want and more. She spun around to
face him again.
     "Neil," she asked, her voice quivering slightly, "I... I
want to fuck you." She couldn't believe the sound of those words
coming out of her mouth. Was that really her talking? It didn't
sound like her. She was beginning to feel strangely detached.
     "What was that?" Neil asked, cupping his ear. "I didn't
catch what you said."
     Hands clenched into helpless fists, she repeated the hated
words, a little louder this time: "I want to fuck you. Please let
me fuck you."
     "You don't sound as if you mean it." Neil pretended to be
hurt, drawing the humiliation out a little longer.
     OK, Stacy told herself, trying to remain calm, just give him
what he wants. Do what he wants, get the tape and get out of
here. "Please," she repeated, this time pleading in an
exaggerated manner, "Please let me fuck you. I want to fuck you."
     To her shock and anger, Neil just shrugged his shoulders
dismissively. "I dunno," he answered. "Maybe I don't want to."
     Her heart skipped a beat. Was he planning to release the
tape after all? "Please," she pleaded - this time for real.
"Please let me fuck you. I want to... I really do. I'm sorry I
was mean to you before. Please let me fuck you?" She looked up at
him, imploring.
     Neil seemed to reach a decision. "Let's see what you've
got," he told her. "Take your clothes off. If I like what I see,
maybe I'll let you do it."
     Stacy, now numb from shock and still dizzy from the drink,
reached down and slowly began to take off her tee-shirt. She had
gone so far now, she might as well see things through to the
finish. Her hands shook as she slowly pulled the shirt up over...
     "Not like that," Neil leered at her. "Do it sexy - like a
strip-tease. And ditch the pony tail."
     Swallowing, Stacy complied, pulling the tie from her hair
and shaking it out. With her wavy blonde hair hanging free, she
began to undress in as sexy a manner as she could manage. Trying
to smile in a seductive way, she slid the tee-shirt up over her
head and twirled it into a corner of the room, exposing her bra.
Neil grinned in appreciation. Stacy's tits weren't particularly
large, but they were very firm and well-formed. Next, to his
delight, she began to fondle her breasts through the bra, still
looking at him seductively. After doing this for a few seconds,
she unclipped the bra, and pulled it slowly off. Her breasts
jutted proudly, nipples erect. Stacy felt a moment of shame at
this, but she was careful not to show it. She was too far along
to think of pulling out now. Suggestively, she ran her hands down
her chest, across her naked breasts and along her flat stomach to
the waistband of her jeans. Hesitating only slightly, she undid
the button and allowed the jeans to slide down her long,
athlete's legs to the floor. She wore simple, white panties.
Stacy stepped out of the jeans and towards Neil. Time to get this
over with.
     Neil, however gestured towards the panties and shook his
head. Her theatrically seductive smile wavered a bit at this, but
she took it in stride. After all, how much worse could it get?
Bending over, Stacy slid the panties down her legs, completely
exposing her crotch to his Neil's view. Now naked except for her
socks, she straightened up and looked at him. What now?
     "Ask." Neil mouthed the word at her.
     In as seductive a voice as she could manage, Stacy did as
she was told. "Please," she begged, her voice a throaty whisper,
"Please fuck me. I need it so bad... please fuck me." While she
begged, she ran her hands over her hardened nipples, almost
causing Neil to ejaculate right then and there. Was this Stacy
Richards standing in front of him? "Please," she pleaded. "I want
it now..."
     Unable to wait any longer, Neil swung his legs around onto
the floor and sat up at the side of his bed. "Come here, bitch,"
he growled, his voice hoarse with lust.
     Dizzy from the mixture of drugs she had been served in the
drink and almost numb from shock, Stacy obeyed. She felt
detached, as if her body was acting on automatic while she - the
real Stacy Richards - watched from a distance. Breathing quickly,
she hurried forward, her tits bouncing as she moved. She kneeled
in front of him as he gestured for her to do so.
     "Do you want it?" he asked her gruffly.
     Stacy looked up at him with her large green eyes, puzzled
and unable to think. Want...
     "My cock, Stace. Do you want my cock?"
     Stacy fought back tears. "Oh yes," she breathed. "Please,
let me have your cock."
      At his nod, she reached in between his legs and fumbled with
the zipper. A few seconds later, his cock popped out onto her
grasping fingers. It was already extremely hard, and - Stacy
noted with loathing - glistening wetly. What now?
     "Kiss it," he ordered, answering her unspoken question.
"Give it some tongue."
     Gagging, Stacy moved her face forward, grasped the penis
and, rubbing it gently with her fingers, she began to kiss and
lick it. She had done this a couple of time before with a
previous boyfriend. She didn't like it, but was able to keep her
revulsion under control. This activity carried on for a few
minutes before Neil reached down and began to fondle her tits. To
her embarrassment, they responded immediately, the nipples
regaining their previous hardness. Her own body was betraying
her! Her face went red with shame, but she definitely began to
feel a tingling between her legs.
     "Take it in your mouth," Neil whispered at her a few moments
later, pushing her hair away from her face. His breath was short.
Reluctantly, she did so, sliding her warm, wet mouth over his
now-sticky cock and sucking gently. The salty taste was
unpleasant, but she could stand it as long as he wasn't planning
to come in her mouth. Surely, he wasn't...

-!- uugate 0.36 (OS/2 2.99)
 ! Origin: Anonymous contact service (2:200/427.1)


Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8572                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:21
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year3/11
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
bit as revealing as the video - at suitable places around the
school and the town. We will even try to sell them to some
magazines, if we can." Stacy sobbed on the couch as he continued
his litany of threats. "Then, we will release the cassette tapes
of you buying the stolen test papers from Neil. In particular, we
will see that Dr. Grossman will get a copy. I'm sure he will know
what to do with it."
      Stacy knew too: expulsion if she was lucky; criminal
prosecution if she was not.
     "On the other hand," Gary continued inexorably, "if you play
our game, no one will have to know about these tapes and
pictures. There are thirty-two weeks left in school; fifty
fucks... fifty-five, rather, is barely more than three guys every
two weeks. Easy. And no one would have to know; you could do it
as discreetly as you liked." Stacy began to control her sobbing,
and started listening seriously to what Gary was saying. "What's
more, you don't even actually have to fuck every time. As long as
they ejaculate somewhere in your body, we don't care where it is:
cunt, ass, mouth... whatever."
      Stacy sniffled loudly. How could he talk so calmly about
such a terrible...
     "Besides," he continued, "there are other rules. Other rules
which should make it a little easier for you to reach fifty-
five."
     "O-other rules?" Stacy couldn't believe that she was
beginning to consider playing along. Sharon squeezed her
shoulder, as if in some bizarre form of encouragement.
     "Teachers are worth ten," came the answer. "There must be at
least one teacher. Female students are worth three each, and
there must be at least one female student. As well, there must be
at least one student fucked in each grade." Greenwood was a full
high school, and thus held grades eight to twelve. The grade
eights were only thirteen or fourteen years old. "The grade
eight, nine and tens are worth two each."
      Gary finished speaking and looked directly at Stacy, who had
begun to cry again. "Do you understand?" he concluded with a
question. Stacy nodded through her tears, unable to speak. "What
will you do then? Play along, or do we release the tapes and
pictures?"
      The room fell silent, the question hanging in the air. Stacy
was momentarily unable to form an answer. On the one hand, she
would have to do all those awful things, but the alternative...
the alternative was too terrible to contemplate. She would be
ruined in Bakersville, both as a person and as a student. The
only way out was to play along with their little game, and hope
to pull it off without anyone finding out about it. 'Oh god,' she
thought, her heart sinking. 'Fifty-five guys.'
      Mutely, she looked up at Gary and nodded her assent; she
would do it.
          Gary felt a wave of relief flood over him as she nodded
her
agreement, but only permitted a small smile to show on his face.
Neil, on the other hand, laughed out loud, as did Sharon as their
tension dissipated. There had always been the chance, however
unlikely, that Stacy would refuse and then go to the police. Now,
however, they had her; she would do as they ordered. This was
going to be an interesting year.
     Gary looked down on her as she sat forlorn on the couch,
staring at the floor. She looked so upset and vulnerable sitting
there. To Gary, she looked far more appealing in tears than she
did when she was in her usual arrogant position at school. All
those bitches needed to be taken down a peg or...
     That gave Gary had an idea. It was time to test their
control over her. As well, there was the small matter of her
slapping his glasses across the room.
      "Before we accept your agreement," he told her, "you should
be punished for attacking me. We will not permit that from you."
     Stacy looked up at him, drawn out of her private misery.
"W-what do you mean?"
      "I think you need a spanking," Gary told her. "Teach you a
lesson."
     Stacy stared in disbelief. "You must be joking." Even after
everything she had just heard, she couldn't believe what he was
saying.
      Gary shook his head. "You say you're going to play along
with our game, but a couple of minutes ago, you attacked me. How
do we know you won't do it again? Why should we believe you? Your
choices are simple: obey us, and take your punishment, or leave
now and let us get on with the business of sending out the tapes.
It'll probably take most of the weekend to make enough copies."
Stacy started crying again - was there no end to her tears? - but
inevitably nodded in submission.
      "Good," Gary told her. "Stand up and pull down your pants."
Trembling, Stacy obeyed, exposing her sleek, muscular legs and
plain white panties. "Now go lie over Sharon's knees. She will
administer the spanking." Stacy flushed red at this order, while
Sharon laughed in delight. For a moment, it looked as if Stacy
would refuse, but eventually she began to move around so she
could lie across Sharon's legs as the younger girl sat on the
couch. She moved slowly, taking small, awkward steps because of
the pants which were bunched around her ankles, but eventually,
she fell to her knees and stretched herself across Sharon's pudgy
legs. Her ass was completely exposed.
     Sharon needed no instructions. She put her left arm across
the small of Stacy's back, and began vigorously spanking the
exposed bottom. Before long, the air was filled with the sound of
Stacy's cries and sobs, punctuated by the regular, merciless
slapping sound of Sharon's hand being brought down hard on the
now red flesh of Stacy's ass.
     Gary tore his eyes away from the scene and looked at Neil,
who was watching the action with his mouth wide open. There was a
conspicuous bulge in his jeans. Well, Gary thought, why not? He
instructed his friend to pull down his pants and take a seat
beside Sharon on the couch. Neil did so, and was quickly in
place. Stacy's face was now on his lap as she lay parallel to the
couch across Sharon's legs. The crying teenager turned her head
and squirmed to avoid Neil's engorged cock as it stood upright
from his lap. Sharon had momentarily stopped spanking and was
looking over with interest.
     Gary reached down, and yanked Stacy's blonde hair, pulling
her tear-stained face upward. "I think you know what you're going
to do, here. We'll be generous and call this number one. Do you
understand?" Stacy squirmed on Sharon's lap, but nodded. "Good
girl. Sharon will keep spanking until Neil comes. When he does
come, you take every drop." He released Stacy's hair, and her
face fell back down onto Neil's lap. Gary gestured towards
Sharon, and she began spanking again.

     Stacy pulled her arms forward, and propped herself up
slightly. She took Neil's cock in her mouth and began to suck and
lick it. It was difficult not to jerk around with the spanking,
but Stacy had a pretty good idea of what would happen to her if
she were to touch Neil's cock with her teeth. Frantically, she
sucked, moaning and gasping as her head slid up and down on
Neil's penis, and Sharon laid into her ass. The pain from the
spanking was getting more intense, but she was quieter now, as
Neil's cock served as an efficient gag.
      Finally, after what seemed like forever, Neil jerked his
hips upward and came, spurting wave after wave of hot, salty
sperm into her mouth. She struggled to swallow it as ordered, her
throat working frantically, but some of it leaked into her
windpipe, causing her to cough. A wad of sperm was sent up into
her nasal passages, and dribbled out of her nose. When she
finally pulled her sweaty face up off of Neil's now flaccid cock,
there was sperm trailing out of her mouth and nose, leaving a
long strand connected to Neil's penis. Her ass was bright red and
shiny where Sharon had been spanking.
      "Smile," Gary called over. Dazed, Stacy moved her head to
the right - pulling the strand of sperm along with her - just as
Gary snapped a picture commemorating the event.

     That was NUMBER ONE.

                         END PART THREE

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-!- uugate 0.36 (OS/2 2.99)
 ! Origin: Anonymous contact service (2:200/427.1)


Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8574                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:22
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year4/11
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
      "What's that?" he asked, as she lit up and took a long,
satisfied drag.
     "Oh, just a little something for Stacy," she smirked. "A
little present to celebrate her success at the game." She reached
into the bag and pulled out...

                           *****

     NUMBER FOUR:
     "You bastard!" Stacy cried. "You fucking bastard!" She lay
on her back on the leather couch in her parent's living room, her
shirt and fingers sticky with sperm. She brushed her hands
against the front of her shirt in a futile effort to wipe herself
clean, but that only seemed to smear the warm, sticky fluid more
evenly down her front. She began to cry, involuntarily bringing a
hand up to her face to cover her eyes. When she took the hand
away, her eyelid and cheek glistened with sperm.
     Toby Hooper, a tall, gangly sixteen year-old, had jumped
back off of her after prematurely ejaculating. His already
freckled face turned bright red with embarrassment as he fumbled
to push his sticky cock back into his pants. "Jesus... I'm
sorry," he apologized, zipping up his jeans. "I d-didn't mean
to..."
     "Just fuck off and get out of here!" Stacy screamed at him.
"Get out!" Tears ran down her face, mixing with the quickly
congealing sperm on her cheeks.
      Toby, his pants now securely fastened, continued to stammer
out incoherent apologies as he picked up his paper-sack and
scurried out of the house. Outside, he jumped onto his bike and
pedalled furiously away.
      Behind him, Stacy continued to cry on the couch, her blonde
hair in disarray and her shirt and face coated with his quickly
drying sperm.
          To Stacy, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity when
Toby had come collecting money that Saturday morning for his
paper route. She considered him to be, like, a total loser at
school (as well as being a grade behind her) and did not find him
the least bit attractive, with his messy red hair and freckles,
but he was a student at Greenwood. From her present, unwelcome
perspective, that was enough. Her parents were away on one of
their weekend "getaways", so Stacy had been all alone in the
house when he came by.
     She had thought that he would prove as easy to seduce as
Barry and Grant had the week before - she was, after all, who she
was - but it had turned out not to be so easy. Toby was going
steady with a girl at school named Tami ("Toby & Tami..." she and
Ashley had enjoyed making fun of them), and the dork seemed
determined to be faithful to her. Either that, or he was just too
stupid and shy to take a hint. Stacy had swallowed her pride and
had come onto him like a bitch in heat - touching his hand;
"accidentally" brushing against him with her breast; making
suggestive comments about being lonely by herself in such a big
house - but he would not react. Finally, she had been forced to
come right out with it and more or less ask him directly to have
sex with her. He had risen to his feet and turned to go,
stammering something about being behind on his paper route, but
Stacy wrapped her strong arms around him and crushed her lips to
his face in a passionate kiss. When she eventually disentangled
her tongue from his, he was breathing hard, and no longer so
anxious to leave.
     She got him safely onto the couch in the living room and,
after some more necking, she had succeeded in extracting his
by-then rigid cock from his pants. By now, she had developed a
technique for getting at a boy's cock quickly, although she still
hated the feel of it. He was now co-operating fully, and had
roughly pulled her pants down to her ankles. She fell back on the
couch and prepared to help guide his cock into to her still
unresponsive pussy, but as he had bent over her, his cock had
twitched and the spurted jism all down the front of her shirt.
There was so much of it! He had been saving up for sixteen years.
She had thrown her hands up to protect herself, but had only
succeeded in getting the warm, sticky fluid all over her fingers.
     Lying there, splattered with warm sperm, Stacy had begun the
shrieking which would drive Toby out of the house.

     By the time her tears had subsided, the sperm had soaked
through her blouse and had dried, sticky and brittle, against her
skin. Her breathing steadied as she tried to come to terms with
what she was becoming... what she was being forced to become.
Shaking, she got to her feet and stumbled to the phone to make
the report she had made twice before.
     Then a shower.

                          *****

     Sharon's surprise present had turned out to be a small,
stainless steel charm bracelet. It was not particularly expensive
or attractive, but was solidly built, the links almost large
enough to qualify as a chain. Almost. But, it was still a charm
bracelet, and as such each link was designed in such a way as to
allow for the attachment of numerous small pieces of jewellery,
usually figurines or symbols: small hearts and the like. Sharon
had not forgotten about that, and happily dumped the contents of
a somewhat larger plastic bag onto the bed. The resulting pile
revealed a large number - an even hundred, Sharon later explained
- of small, steel "F"'s. Ordinarily, such ornaments would be worn
on charm bracelets by girls with names beginning with that
letter, but in Stacy's case the letter would stand for something
else. Gary quickly figures out what that "something else" would
be. By the end of the year, Sharon explained to a laughing Gary,
Stacy's charm bracelet should be displaying fifty-five such
ornaments.
     "Belling the cat," Gary chuckled. "I like it."
     "Not the cat," Sharon disagreed, "the pussy. Belling the
pussy."
      Gary had laughed again and then drew her towards him for an
appreciative kiss.

                              *****

     The actual "belling" had gone very smoothly, Sharon thought.
The next day at school, Neil and Gary had contrived to lead the
"pussy" into the metal-working shop after classes. Before the
frightened Stacy could protest, they had clipped the charm
bracelet onto her left wrist, and then forced her arm onto a
nearby workbench. Sharon had watched from the doorway - serving
as a lookout - as Stacy started to struggle and cry out. Her
struggles subsided, however, when Neil brought the soldering iron
and solder down to her wrist; the slightest movement would have
caused the molten solder to drip onto her exposed arm. Stacy
watched in silent horror as the two boys soldered shut the clip
to the charm bracelet, fastening it permanently to her wrist. She
could still, of course, easily remove it with the proper tools,
but such a removal would certainly leave evidence; evidence
which, Gary quietly explained to Stacy, would lead to the
imposition of further punishment and humiliation. The charm
bracelet would stay on her wrist until the school year was over.
     When Stacy had nodded her understanding, Neil took Sharon's
place at the door, and the pudgy girl moved forward and fastened
the small, steel "F"s to Stacy's newly acquired bracelet.
Silently, she affixed four of them, spreading them evenly along
the bracelet. Stacy looked on in disbelief as understanding
dawned in her face. Immediately, her large, green eyes flooded
with tears, but she didn't offer a protest. She knew there was
nothing that she could say.
     Sharon had smirked at her and moved back when she was
finished affixing the charms. She and Gary had turned to leave
the room, but Neil had stayed behind, moving towards Stacy with
an unmistakable glint in his eyes. Sharon left the room and
walked away, while Gary stayed to stand watch. If she had turned
to look as she left the room, she would have seen Stacy, now on
her knees, reach forward - the charms clinking merrily on her
wrist - and begin to pull down the zipper of Neil's pants.
      Sharon had not needed to look back however. She had a pretty
good idea of what would happen - what was happening as she sat on
the school steps, enjoying a cigarette. She was, however, rudely
jarred from her pleasant thoughts by a door banging shut behind
her, and the sound of someone crying. Turning, Sharon saw Tami
Slaighter, a classmate of hers. Sharon and Tami were not
particularly close friends, but Sharon's curiosity compelled her
to stand up and comfort the girl.
      Bit by bit, the story came out as the sobbing Tami told
Sharon the reason for her tears.

                            *****

     NUMBER FIVE - EIGHT:
     Dennis Baxter, thirteen years old, had had no direct
experience with girls and was certainly a virgin, but he knew sex
when he saw it. He was seeing it now, as he stared through the
partially open doorway which led to the instructor's storeroom in
the section of Greenwood set aside for the grade eight classes.
Every Friday afternoon, the grade eights took Recreation as the
last class of the day. This basically consisted of playing
various games - outside when it was warm enough, and in the gym
when it was not - and was supervised by upper level students for
extra credit.
      Dennis's class was supervised by Stacy Richards, and it was
her that he had gone looking for after arriving late for class;
Dennis had a Doctor's note that needed delivering. When he had
arrived in the gymnasium, his classmates had told him that the
instructor had gone to the storeroom for some equipment. In a
hurry to deliver the note and join his friends, Dennis had
hurried along, hoping to find her.
     Well, he had found her alright, but she was in no position
to receive the (now forgotten) note he held clutched in his
sweaty hand. As he looked through the doorway, he was greeted by
the sight of Stacy Richards on her hands and knees with her skirt
hiked up over her hips, while Tim Myers - himself no older than
Dennis - fucked in and out of her from behind. Tim grunted as he
frantically pistoned his hips back and forth, sliding his cock in
and out of her warm pussy. Stacy, her head down and face
curtained by her free-flowing blonde hair, was also making small
grunting noises as she moved her ass in time with his thrusts,
squirming and wiggling as she did so.
      Dennis's mouth dropped open as he watched. He couldn't
believe what he was seeing! He pushed forward a bit to get a
better view, but accidentally bumped against the doorframe. At
once, Tim stopped moving and looked over at him, his face red
with shock and embarrassment. Stacy looked back over her shoulder
at the thirteen-year old, shaking her face free of her hair.
     "No!" She sounded strange and anxious. "Don't stop." She
wiggled her hips hopefully around his still-sheathed cock.
"Please... keep going," she begged. She crouched back, trying to
impale herself further on his rapidly deflating cock.
     Tim didn't move. "B-but..." Unable to speak, he gestured
towards Dennis, who stood frozen in the doorway. Stacy's head
turned towards him and she peered up at him from beneath the
curtain of hair. At first she looked as shocked and upset as Tim,
but she quickly recovered.
     "Come in, Dennis," she invited, her voice a hoarse whisper.
"J-Join the fun." This last sentence ended with a quiet squeal as
Tim began moving again. Dennis didn't need to be told twice.
Carefully closing the door behind him, the teenager walked slowly
forward, uncertain of what to do next. Stacy gestured at him to
come closer as Tim's thrusts regained their earlier rhythm, if
somewhat lacking in their former urgency. The surprise at being
caught had obviously set him back a bit on the path to orgasm.
     When Dennis was standing in front of her, Stacy reached up
and pulled down the zipper on his pants. She quickly slipped his
penis out and, without another word, began kissing and licking
it. Within minutes, it was as hard as a pole; Stacy engulfed it
with her mouth and began sucking for all she was worth, her lips
sliding up and down in time with Tim's regular thrusts into her
pussy. Plugged at both ends, she gasped and moaned as the two
boys pumped their rigid cocks in and out of her body.
     Eventually, the Tim and Dennis came, more or less at the
same time. Tim pumped his sperm into Stacy's warm, wet pussy from
the rear, while Dennis ejaculated into her mouth and down her
rapidly convulsing throat. She swallowed every drop before the
penis fell loose, making certain that no evidence of her
behaviour would remain on her clothing or face. Behind her, Tim
began to laugh.

                           *****

     Later that same evening, Stacy had phoned Gary and, as
required, gave him the details of her sexual activities. He had
accepted the information as usual, but had some additional news
for her.
     "Sharon talked to Tami today," he told her. "She knows what
happened last Saturday with you and Toby."
     "W-what do you mean? I already told you what h-happened."
Stacy felt sick to her stomach. What had she done wrong? Were
then going to release the pictures after all?
     "Your paperboy 'lover' never came inside of you. According
to Tami, he couldn't restrain himself. Is that what happened?"
     Stacy bit her lip and hesitated. She had not mentioned that
part of her encounter with Toby out of sheer embarrassment.  She
had been somewhat surprised to discover that she still had some
pride left, even after all that had happened - but she couldn't
see how that mattered.
      "Y-yes," she answered, finally. "That's what happened." Fuck
you, she thought.
     "Well then, you know the rules. It doesn't count unless your
partner ejaculates inside of you. Don't you remember?"
     Stacy's vision began to blur with tears. She remembered.
Gary evidently took her silence as agreement, because he
continued speaking. "You broke the rules. Not only does Toby not
count, but you now have an extra ten to do, bringing the total up
to an even sixty-five."
     SIXTY-FIVE!
     "You can't do that," Stacy exclaimed, horrified. He
couldn't...
     "I'm sorry; I didn't catch that." Gary sounded amused. "Did

-!- uugate 0.36 (OS/2 2.99)
 ! Origin: Anonymous contact service (2:200/427.1)


Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8577                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:22
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year5/11
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
nothing: a pair of stiletto high-heels, black stockings, a
spangled, gold g-string and a pair of tassled pasties covering
her nipples. And a bright, shiny charm bracelet on one wrist. Her
tits, small and firm, bobbed up and down as she gyrated back and
forth across the small stage.
       The music drew her forward; bit by bit, piece by piece, the
minimal clothing came off until, finally, she stood naked and
exposed before the watchers. The shapeless mass of the audience
was no longer silent, but was instead calling out what seemed to
be a name, over and over again. Dimly, the dancer sensed that she
should be frightened, but she wasn't. Instead, she began to
become more and more excited. Rubbing her breasts with one hand,
she began to pant and moan as the shouting grew louder. The
colored lights above her began to move... rotating wildly...
pulsing on and off. Her pussy was damp and inviting when she
inserted first her middle finger, and then middle three fingers.
     Her excitement grew to the point of orgasm; the name chanted
by the audience became louder and louder... Suddenly, there was a
loud ringing sound, again and again as the lights sped up. She
tried to ignore it, concentrating on the swiftly approaching
orgasm, but it kept ringing and ringing... the hoarse chanting
became clearer until, abruptly, she could make out the name:
     "Stacy!"
      Stacy Richards sat bolt upright in bed, sweaty and
dishevelled. Her mother's voice had shouted out her name from the
bottom of the stairs. "Stacy. Answer your phone."
     The phone beside the bed was ringing. Stacy glanced over at
the bedside clock: almost 10:30 - a bit early to be calling on a
Saturday. She reached over and picked up the phone.
     "Hi Stace." It was Sharon. Of course.
      Stacy fought back an urge to slam down the phone. "What do
you want?" she asked, fighting to contain her anger.
     "Just to tell you that we're going out tonight; girl's night
out." Sharon sounded pleased with herself.
     "What are you talking about?" Stacy fought to clear her head
of the last vestiges of sleep.
     "There's a party at BCN tonight," Sharon explained. "We're
going." BCN stood for Bakersville College North. At the time the
campus was opened, there was a planned second campus to be built
south of the town, but that had never occurred. The one college
was still, however, called "North".
     "I can't do that," Stacy argued, fighting down a sudden
surge of panic. "I'm... uhm... busy tonight."
      "Do I have to make threats?" Sharon asked. "You know what
your options are. Besides, you might enjoy yourself."
     Stacy sighed with resignation. She knew very well that she
would have to agree with whatever Sharon said. If not, she would
be ruined at Greenwood. "OK," she muttered. "I'll be there."
     "Fine." Sharon was matter of fact; she had expected nothing
else. "Come to my place at 7:00. Oh... we'll be out all night;
tell your mother that you'll be spending the night at a friend's
house." The line went dead as Sharon hung up before Stacy could
reply or protest.
     Slowly, Stacy put the receiver down and ran a shaky hand
through her matted hair. Only then did she notice that her body
was covered with a sheen of sweat. The dream! She pushed back the
covers and looked down on her body: her nipples were firm and
erect and her pussy was slightly damp. Could that dream really
have been exciting her? All she remembered was being naked... and
all those men were watching! She placed a finger on her clit and
began to rub, moaning softly. Just the memory of the dream was
exciting! What was happening to her? Despite her confusion, she
continued to masturbate herself, quickly bringing herself to
climax.
     Just as the orgasm died away, the phone rang again. She
picked it up.
     "Hello?" It was Barry Packard. Just what she needed. She had
noticed that he was trying to talk to her at school, but she had
managed to avoid him successfully ever since they had fucked a
couple of weeks ago in the front seat of his car.
     "Hi Stacy," he greeted her. She remained silent.
      "Uhm... I was just wondering if you wanted to... like, you
know... go out tonight, or something."
     "Are you kidding," she laughed. "I wouldn't be caught dead
with a loser like you." All of her frustration and anger at what
had happened to her in the last couple of weeks flowed out of her
heart and down the phone lines.
      "B-but... I thought... what about what happened on..."
     "What happened in your car was a joke," she told him.
"You've got to be the worst fuck I've ever had." It felt a little
strange talking like that, but on the whole, it was good to be on
the giving end of some abuse rather than on the receiving end.
Besides, he was such a loser!
     "B-but..."
     "I don't want to hear about it, and I don't want to see or
hear from you again. Just fuck off!"
      Stacy slammed down the phone. That had felt good! Almost
like her old self. Cheered up, she got out of bed and went into
the bathroom for a shower.

                            *********

     As ordered, Stacy arrived at Sharon's house promptly at 7:00
that evening. Sharon's mother, a large, bleary-eyed woman
answered the door.
     "Is Sharon here?" Stacy asked timidly. The woman smelt of
beer and stale cigarette smoke.
     The woman took a drag from her cigarette and gestured Stacy
inside. Stacy walked into the house.
      "Sharon!" Sharon's mom was yelling down a flight of stairs.
"Your little friend's here." She turned back to Stacy. "Go right
on down. She's in her room."
     Stacy smiled weakly in thanks and walked down the stairs
into the basement.
     "In here." Sharon's voice came from behind a closed door at
one end of a short hall. Stacy pushed the door open and entered
Sharon's bedroom. The pudgy girl was talking on the phone; she
waved at Stacy to come in and sit down.
     "... Yes... I know. At the agreed price. I know... uh huh...
it's just for private use. Nothing else." Stacy sat on the edge
of Sharon's bed, careful not to disturb a pile of dirty clothing.
"No, that's fine. Yeah... as long as they don't mind... OK."
Sharon hung up the phone and turned to Stacy.
     "Well," she said, smirking, "let's have a look at you. Stand
up." Blushing, Stacy stood up. She was wearing a blue skirt which
fell below her knees and a yellow blouse. Her blonde hair was
done up in a tight, little bun at the back of her head. Sharon
shook her head as she looked the older girl over. "Huh," she
grunted. "That's not gonna do." She got up and moved towards the
closet. "Let's try these on." She pulled out a duffel bag and
handed it to Stacy.
     Stacy took one look inside and dropped the bag. "I can't
wear these. Not in public."
      Sharon just smiled and lit a cigarette. "Every time," she
rolled her eyes theatrically. "Every time
we go through this same game. First you say you can't do
something. Then we threaten to release the tape and the pictures.
Then, suddenly, you can do it." She looked over at Stacy. "Is all
that really necessary?"
     Stacy looked down at the duffel bag and began to tremble.
She fought back the tears.
      "Please..." How could they do this to her?
     Sharon wasn't moved.
      "Put these on, you bitch," she ordered, suddenly angry.
"You'll wear them tonight or by Monday night everyone in town
will know what a slut you are."
      The videotape!
     Reluctantly, Stacy reached down and picked up the duffel
bag.

     Ten minutes later, she was changed and ready to go. The
central item of her new apparel was a black, patent leather
skirt, which reached only halfway down her thighs. The tight
skirt was fastened by a zipper on the side. ('For easy access,'
Sharon had commented.) On top, she now wore a bright pink spandex
shirt. The sleeveless blouse hugged her upper body tightly,
making the most of her smallish breasts. On her feet, she wore
black leather, high-heeled boots, which covered her lower legs
right up to her knees. Thin nylon stockings completed the
ensemble. As well, Sharon had combed out her blonde hair, so that
it fell in waves across her now bare shoulders. A little extra
make-up (applied by Sharon) and she looked like "a proper little
whore" (in Sharon's opinion).
      Stacy fought to hold back the tears. She did feel like a
whore in this outfit.

     The two girls drove up to the College in Stacy's car, but
with Sharon at the wheel. When they arrived, the party was
already in full swing, with music blasting raucously out of
partially opened windows. It was located in a large, old house,
which served as rental accommodation for students at BCN. Sharon
parked the car on the street opposite the house and looked over
at Stacy. The older girl sat stiffly, looking straight ahead, her
arms crossed in front of her chest.
     "You're not going to have much fun with that attitude,"
Sharon chided. "You're too tense." Stacy didn't answer. Sharon
sighed theatrically and reached into her large purse.
      "Here," she said, pulling out a small thermos. "Have a
drink. It'll relax you." She poured a small measure of whisky
into the thermos lid and passed it over to Stacy. The older girl
looked doubtful for a moment, sniffing suspiciously at the
liquid, but then shrugged her shoulders and drank it down. What
harm could it do? Almost immediately, she felt the warmth of the
alcohol in her stomach.
     "One more?" Sharon asked. Stacy nodded quickly and held out
the cup for a second drink. Sharon poured, and Stacy once again
downed it. She felt much better already.
     Sharon smiled as she took the cup back and screwed it back
onto the thermos. This was the same stuff that Gary had mixed
that had got Stacy so hot that night at Neil's. With any luck, it
should make things go a lot better tonight, particularly with a
double dose.
     "Let's go."
      Sharon opened the door and got out of the car. Stacy
followed, moving a little slower on the high heels. The drink was
beginning to go to her head a bit, she noticed. She felt a little
unsteady. The two girls walked up the gravel driveway towards the
house. Even from outside, the loud pulsing music made
conversation difficult; the whole building seemed to shake with
it.
      Sharon banged loudly on the door. Nothing. She banged again,
harder this time. A few moments later, a young man opened it and
peered drunkenly outward.
       "Yeah?" His eyes quickly skimmed over Sharon, and came to
rest on Stacy's scantily clad body. Stacy shivered, only partly
from the cold as the man slowly looked her up and down. He liked
his lips.
     "Is Jim in?" Sharon was forced to yell over the music. "Tell
him Sharon is here." The man at the door tore his eyes away from
Stacy long enough to acknowledge Sharon's words with a nod, and
then disappeared back into the house.
     Sharon turned to Stacy who was still shivering on the porch.
"Remember," she said urgently. "This is a college party. Don't
start acting like a fucking kid. I have everything under
control."
      Stacy started to ask what she meant by this, but the door
swung open and another man came out. This guy was huge; he looked
like a football player.
      "Sharon," he called out. "Good to see you." His eyes turned,
inevitably, towards Stacy. "And you must be Stacy. Sharon's told
us a lot about you." Stacy knew that this sounded ominous, but
her brain was fogged up from the alcohol, and the drugs Gary had
added to it were starting to have an effect: her senses seemed
heightened, but her consciousness was starting to drift. A small
part of her mind recognized this feeling from that first night at
Neil's house, but she was unable to act on this knowledge. The
large man - Jim? - gestured for them to enter the house. Sharon
pushed Stacy through the door in front of her and then entered
herself.
      Behind them, the door slammed shut.

     Inside, the painfully loud music drowned out any possibility
of conversation. The foyer led to a short stairway which in turn
opened up into the main living room of the house. This room was
packed with sweating, dancing people, almost exclusively students
from BCN. The air was heavy with smoke, tobacco and other types.
     Jim led the way through the crowd, pushing and shoving a
path through the drunken, jostling crowd. Sharon pulled Stacy
along by the arm, following in his wake. Stacy got a lot of
attention from the men in the room, and one guy even reached out
to squeeze her tits as they pressed through the tangle. She
squirmed away, and he was soon lost in the crush. To Stacy's
blurred perceptions, the trip across the crowded room was a
nightmare passage of smoke and noise, with the occasional leering
face thrust out at her through the haze. She was thankful when
they reached the comparative quiet of the kitchen, but this too
was fairly crowded, and Jim continued leading them along. They
passed through the kitchen, down a short hallway and, finally, to
a closed door.
     Jim halted in front of that door and looked back at Sharon.
     "Everything OK?" he asked, glancing at Stacy. Stacy looked
around wildly, beginning to panic. What was happening here?
     Sharon pulled her head down and whispered into her ear.
"These are my friends," she hissed. "Keep them happy. If you're
smart, you'll relax and enjoy it. Fuck up, and..." Sharon looked
up and smiled at Jim.
      "Fine," she told him. "She's all ready. She loves this sort
of thing. She's really hot."
     Stacy started to mumble a protest, but before she could form
the words, Jim had opened the door and Sharon had pushed her into
the room. Jim followed her in, closing the door behind him.
     Left alone in the hall, Sharon leaned against the door and
pulled out a cigarette. She'd give them a few minutes to get
going and then head in herself. She reached down and patted the
bulk of the video camera in her purse. She didn't want to miss
any of the action.

     Stacy's memories of that night in the room consisted almost

-!- uugate 0.36 (OS/2 2.99)
 ! Origin: Anonymous contact service (2:200/427.1)


Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8580                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:26
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year6/11
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
     Stacy looked up. Huh?
     Sharon picked up an open can of coke from a nearby table and
handed it to her. "Drink up," she instructed. "We don't want you
fainting on the set. We've got lots of stuff to get through
tonight."
     Confused, Stacy did as ordered; she drank the coke and
handing the empty can back to the impatiently waiting Sharon.
      The other girl nodded and took the bottle.
     "OK," she announced, "I think we'll start with..."

     Stacy spent the next few hours in front of the lights,
running through countless degrading poses in dozens of different
outfits. Humiliatingly, they started her out with some of her own
clothes which she had brought: mini-skirt, blouse and high heels.
     "Look at the camera."
      The colored lights placed her in front of a soft, yellow
backdrop. As instructed, Stacy looked at the camera.
     "Lean forward... legs apart."
      She bent down and spread her legs, causing the skirt to ride
up. Her blonde hair, combed out straight, hung down over her left
shoulder, framing her breasts for the camera. Behind the bank of
lights, her three tormentors were only shadowed silhouettes.
Stacy was reminded of her dreams of stripping in front of such
lights.
       "Open the blouse... now cup your breasts and look sexy. Keep
looking up; we want to see your face."
     Her hands trembled as they undid the buttons. She had known
it would come to this, but it was still so hard; particularly in
front of the camera. She cupped her small breasts in her hands,
involuntarily teasing her own nipples. They hardened immediately.
Would they notice?
     "That's it. Nice nipples. Now, lick your lips..."
     Stacy wetted her lips and did her best to look sexy and
inviting. Her nipples stayed hard.
     "Bend over a bit more... let's see some more leg..."

     Then they dressed her in one of her old swimsuits, now at
least one size too small:
     "That's right... other way, now..."
     Stacy stood, side on to the camera. They had soaked the suit
before dressing her in it, and it clung tenaciously to every
curve. Worse, the cold water caused her nipples to become hard
again, and it was plainly visible through the thin swimsuit.
     "Shoulders back... good, that pushes out your tits... play
with the nipples, make them nice and hard... there you go..."
     Stacy flushed red.
      "OK... now run your hand through your hair... look like you
need a good fuck..."
     Stacy did as ordered. She slid her fingers through her
blonde hair, shaking it out at the back as she did so. She was
beginning to feel a queer sort of arousal in the pit of her
stomach. She fought to hide it, but it was difficult to do while
trying to look sexy.

     Then came the outfit she had worn for the party at BCN. It
quickly became apparent to Stacy that they had not cleaned it
since that night; it stank of dried sweat and sperm.
      This time, Sharon put on some music, and had Stacy dance a
slow striptease. Neil called encouragement as Stacy slowly
divested herself of first the cum-encrusted shirt, and then the
tight leather skirt.
      And, just like in her dream, she became more and more
aroused...

     A short break to re-load the camera while Stacy stood,
panting slightly, in front of the lights. She was naked from the
previous stripping, save only for the leather, high-heeled boots.
Neil came over and played with her sweaty tits until it was time
for a new outfit.
      Stacy fought hard not to respond...

     Finally, it was over.
      Stacy stood, drained and sweaty in the last outfit she had
modelled, a tight, pink rubber dress which left bare as much as
it concealed. It was cut low on her neckline, leaving her chest
bare down to the upper curve of her tits (at one point in the
session, she had been ordered to pop her tits out of the dress,
but they were re-covered now). The dress also left her arms
exposed up to the shoulder, and only covered her upper thighs
down to just below her crotch. Her legs were clearly displayed,
taut and sleek in the black pumps. Sharon had done her hair up
in a tight bun, giving her a severe, sexy look.
     Neil slipped behind her, reached around and began playing
with her breasts through the thin rubber as Gary and Sharon
clicked off the lights and began storing the film. Involuntarily,
Stacy moaned, but didn't pull away. Her nipples hardened and a
trickle of sweat dribbled down between her breasts as they
strained against the latex. Neil began kissing her neck.
     Gary looked over and smiled. Stacy's eyes were closed and
her mouth slightly parted as she leaned back to accept Neil's
attentions. Her body was clearly beginning to respond. This
seemed like a good time to bring up...
     "Oh, Stacy." Stacy opened up her eyes and stiffened,
remembering where she was.
      "I heard that Barry Packard asked you out last a little
while ago and you refused. Is that true?"
      Stacy bit her lip apprehensively, but nodded. She recognized
the tone of voice Gary was using; something bad was going to
happen. Behind her, Neil reached down with one hand and began
massaging her pussy through the latex dress. The other hand
continued to fondle her tits. Subconsciously, she began to squirm
back against him.
     "Well," Gary continued, "from now on, there'll no more of
that. If one of your 'lovers' wants a re-match, you agree to it."
     "What?!" Stacy tried to move forward, but Neil held her
tight. "What are you talking about?" Neil popped one of her
breasts out from the dress and began teasing the nipple. Stacy
tried to ignore it.
      "That wasn't a rule."
     "It's a new rule," Sharon told her, grinning. "From now on,
once a guy's fucked you, you can't say 'no' to him until you've
finished all sixty-five."
     Stacy's features began to quiver. She had resolved not to
cry, but this was too much. A tear trickled down her cheek as she
considered the implications of what was being said.
     "B-but... there'll be no end of it. I'll have to do it all
the time." Her mind, now cloudy with lust, struggled to find
objections.
      "When am I supposed to study or do other things? There are
exams coming up!"
     Sharon laughed outright at that. Stacy had just been told
that she had to agree to fuck almost any guy that asked, and she
was complaining about not being able to study for exams!
     "Don't worry about the exams," Gary told her. "We'll get you
the test papers ahead of time. Hell, we'll even do it for free
this time." The three of them laughed as Stacy began to cry in
earnest.
     "Besides," Gary continued, "it's not all bad news. We've
decided to let you earn some pocket money while you're doing it."
     "What?"
     "From now on, you charge five bucks for a repeat fuck."
     Stacy looked at him in horror.
     "The first one's free, but repeat service costs five bucks."
He looked over at Neil. "Except," he continued, "for Neil, of
course. He gets it for free."
     If possible, Stacy's sobs became louder. No matter how bad
things became, they always managed to make them a little worse.
Or a lot worse!
     Gary and Sharon continued packing up as Neil slipped his
hand under the short dress and began to play with her pussy
directly. Stacy shuddered and then relaxed back into his chest,
defeated. There was no use resisting it. She began to pant as
Neil pushed his middle finger into her now-moist cunt.
     When Gary and Sharon finally left the room, she was sitting
on top of Neil's erection, riding it up and down, the pink dress
bunched up around her waist.

                            *******

     Stacy was slumped forward on the desk. Her head was cradled
sideways in her arms, spilling blonde hair in waves out over the
wooden desktop. Outside the closed office door, the grade eight
students she was supposed to be supervising were yelling and
running about, her usually well-structured Recreation course
having dissolved into chaos in her absence.
      She didn't care. She was too tired to care. She hadn't even
changed into her usual gym outfit for the class, instead just
stumbling around the gymnasium in her green tweed dress, barely
getting the class started before retreating to the office. She
just didn't care anymore.
     Last night she had attended Ashley's Christmas party and, in
the course of the evening, had managed to have sex with four
different guys: two blowjobs and two fucks. Actually, it had been
five guys, but one of them had turned out not to be a student at
Greenwood, and Stacy no longer counted the non-students. That
brought her total up to twenty: twenty different guys, and twenty
shiny "F"s on her imprisoned wrist. Only forty-five more to go.
Only! Her pussy ached at the thought.
     As was happening so often these days, Stacy found herself
fighting back the urge to cry. How had she fallen into this trap?
How had such a little thing as cheating on a math test led her
into the kind of life she was now leading? Looking back, she
could see how Gary - it must have been Gary; Neil wasn't anywhere
near smart or subtle enough to plan this sort of thing - had
slowly escalated the incidents of blackmail and humiliation until
all her options had disappeared. Even now, if it had just been
the original session at Neil's, she might be tempted to rebel -
perhaps even turn to the police - but Gary had since then taken
it even further. Now, there were the pictures taken at the
photography studio and the awful video-tape of that night at BCN,
where Sharon had turned her into a whore! Sharon had shown the
tape to her the day after the photo session. How could anyone
believe her story after seeing her enjoying herself so much? She
could barely believe it herself. What had happened to her? Sex
was usually so degrading and painful; why had it felt so good?
Still, whatever the reason, there was no way out; no one would
believe her now.
     So, she took the path of least resistance, and did what they
wanted.
     It had been three days since the session at the photography
studio, and she was unable to get it out of her mind. It was not
just the fact that the pictures had been taken. That was terrible
enough, and she was thoroughly frightened about what would be
done with the resulting photographs. Gary had told her that they
were just for "personal use" (whatever that meant), but how could
she trust him? It was not just the fact that she could no longer
refuse to have sex with the guys she had already fucked; that was
bad, but she thought she could control matters so that very few
of them invited her out again. As long as it was kept quiet, it
shouldn't be too much of a problem. It was not even the sex with
Neil; he had fucked her a number of times already, and it was
getting to be almost routine.
       What frightened her about the session in the studio was the
way she had responded to the situation, and, later, to Neil. By
the time he had pushed up her dress and forced her to impale
herself upon his rigid cock, she had been so excited that she had
experienced an orgasm within seconds of penetration. In the
fucking that followed, she had cum twice more, moaning and
squirming like some kind of slut-bitch on Neil's cock.
     As was the case with the session at BCN, she was not sure
how she felt about this. On one hand, she was being forced to do
horribly degrading things and it was as if her own body was
betraying her by allowing her to respond sexually. What kind of
girl - what kind of a slut - would enjoy the kind of obscene
activity which had occurred at BCN? On the other hand, it looked
very much like she had very little choice in the matter. She was
trapped, and would have to fuck countless guys in the next few
months. Given that this was going to happen anyway, wouldn't it
be better to get at least some enjoyment out of it? If nothing
else, she could do without the constant pain of her pussy being
rubbed raw as a result of her being dry at the wrong time.
     What she needed was some way to control the excitement. Some
way to allow her to do what she had to do with a minimum of pain,
but which would allow her to control herself so that her
surrender would not be complete. Some way to...
     Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
She glanced at her watch and saw that it was after 3:15; class
was over. She patted down her green tweed dress and shook her
blonde hair, unconsciously adjusting her appearance. That must
be...
     It was. The door swung open to reveal a grinning Tim,
followed closely by Dennis. Stacy groaned, but gestured for them
to enter the office for their weekly session.
      There must be some better way to deal with this!

                         *******

     Ashley Peters stood, giggling, in a cluster of friends in a
doorway near the water fountain. The girls were pulling a nasty
practical joke, and were waiting for the victim to arrive. Even
among this group, basically the most popular (ie. beautiful)
girls at Greenwood, Ashley stood out as something special. She
was taller than any of the other girls, but still well-rounded in
all of the important places, particularly her breasts. Indeed,
the only other girl at school that was in her league was Stacy
Richards, but while Stacy was small and perfectly proportioned,
Ashley was big-boned and extremely well endowed, particularly for
an eighteen year-old. Where Stacy had a finely chiselled face and
high cheek bones, Ashley's face was wide and generous, with
thick, pouty lips and wide brown eyes. Where Stacy had shoulder
length blonde hair, Ashley was a brunette, with a thick,
reddish-brown mane of hair that fell halfway down her back. In
short, Stacy's was a hard, athletic beauty, while Ashley was
softer and more luxurious: equally beautiful, but in an entirely
different manner.
     The two girls were, of course, rivals, but only in a
relaxed, friendly way. There was simply no need for them to
compete, for boys or otherwise. The only real point of contention

-!- uugate 0.36 (OS/2 2.99)
 ! Origin: Anonymous contact service (2:200/427.1)


Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8583                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:26
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year7/11
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
down to her bra. Ashley hesitated for a second, but then put the
drink down on a side table and slipped her pink sweater up over
her head, exposing large breasts barely constrained by a bra. She
pulled the sweater free of her head and shook loose her hair
(partly destroying carefully constructed bun on the back of her
head) just in time to see Stacy unclip and remove her bra.
      "Stacy!" Ashley was a little embarrassed. They had seen each
other
naked often enough before and after gym class at school, but not
like this. It seemed different, somehow, to be standing naked
like this in Stacy's bedroom, slightly drunk. Still... it was
quite hot... and the bra strap got more than a little itchy when
she sweated... Why not? Shrugging her shoulders, Ashley followed
suit, slipping the straps of her bra off her shoulders and
unfastening the bra, revealing her own breasts.
      Gary peered intently through the slats on the closet door as
Ashley's large, firm breasts popped free of confinement and into
view. Impressed, he brought his still camera up and snapped a
quick shot, making certain that Stacy, also topless, was in the
picture. It was almost time to start running the video camera. As
he took the picture, he felt a gentle shove from behind.
     "Let me see," Neil whispered, trying to look over Gary's
shoulder and around the tripod. Gary pushed him back, frowning.
He brought a finger up to his lips, gesturing angrily for
silence. Did Neil want to fuck it up for everyone? Gary pointed
towards the floor of the closet, where Karen sat in patient
silence. Neil looked like he wanted to argue the point, but gave
in and sat down, sulking.
     Gary turned back to the action in the bedroom.

     "Here, I'll put that away." Stacy reached over for the
sweater and bra, "accidentally" brushing the back of her hand
across Ashley's tits. Ashley flinched slightly, but handed over
the clothing without comment. She watched as her friend hung them
on a hook on the back of the door.
     "Thanks."
     "No problem." Stacy padded back across the room towards the
tall brunette. She crossed in front of her - once again brushing
against Ashley's breasts - and picked up her friend's glass.
"Here's your drink."
      As Stacy walked across the room, Ashley couldn't help but
notice how sleek and fit Stacy looked. Secretly, Ashley wished
that she had that kind of body - thin, muscular thighs, tight
stomach and smallish, firm breasts. Ashley, on the other hand,
was more lush in form, although her large breasts were firm
enough to stand up on their own without the aid of a bra. She
knew she was beautiful - indeed, she took if for granted - but
she still admired her friend's physique. If only...
     She was surprised to find her nipples hardening as she
watched Stacy. Suddenly embarrassed and shy, she turned away and
crossed her arms in front of her breasts, taking a large sip of
the scotch. She quickly regained her composure, and the two
girls, now topless, resumed their former positions and continued
the conversation. They carried on talking for another half hour
or so, with the conversation becoming more and more disjointed as
the drugs took their affect. Eventually, Stacy asked Ashley to
bring the now half-empty bottle to her on the bed. Ashley
complied, moving carefully in order to compensate for the lack of
co-ordination brought about by the alcohol,  but when she tried
to move away after handing over the bottle, Stacy gestured for
her to lie down beside her on the bed.
     "What?" Ashley's head was spinning slightly.
     "Just lie down," Stacy told her soothingly. "Relax. I think
the booze is hitting us harder than we expected."
     Ashley couldn't argue with that. They were only on their
fourth drink (or was it the fifth?), and she was feeling a
curious dislocation, almost like she was looking at events
through a long tunnel - as if her mind was somehow dislocated
from her body. At the same time, however, her nerves seemed
heightened and more sensitive and there was a curious tingle in
the base of her stomach. Better lie down, she thought, and
allowed Stacy to help her down on the bed. Stacy's hands felt
cool and dry against her hot skin. They felt good. That's better,
she told herself, stretching out with her arms by her sides. By
now, her bun had become unfastened, and her long, brown hair
spread out on the pillow behind her head. She closed her eyes and
relaxed.
     A few seconds later, however, she felt a movement on the bed
beside her. Opening her eyes, she noticed that Stacy was half
sitting up, looking down at her with a funny expression on her
face. Ashley, suddenly worried, tried to sit up, but Stacy put
her hands on her friend's shoulders and pushed her back down.
"Relax," she murmured, almost whispering. "Just lie there." Her
strong hands began to rub Ashley's naked shoulders. After a
moment, Ashley complied, lying back and enjoying the sensation of
having her shoulders massaged. It felt so good...
     It felt even better a few seconds later, as Stacy slowly
moved her hands downward across the top of Ashley's chest and
then down onto her breasts. Ashley instinctively tensed and tried
to jerk away, but once again Stacy calmed her down with a few
whispered words. Ashley relaxed again, closing her eyes, as Stacy
gently rubbed her large breasts, paying particular attention to
her now-hard nipples.
      Showtime!
     Gary had clicked the "play" button on the video camera as
soon as Stacy had begun fondling Ashley's shoulders. Things were
getting hot out there! After checking the viewfinder to make
certain nothing was being missed, he lifted the still camera and
began snapping shots as Stacy moved her hands downward towards
Ashley's tits.
     With any luck, Sharon was also getting some good material
from her place in the small closet.

     Eventually, Ashley began to moan quietly with pleasure. The
moans grew louder as she felt a new sensation on her now
ultra-sensitive nipples. She opened her eyes to see that Stacy
had bent over her and was licking her nipples with a small, pink
tongue which darted in and out of her mouth. Fully aroused,
Ashley brought up her hands and began to run her fingers through
Stacy's blonde hair; her beautiful blonde hair. Her hands stayed
there as Stacy slowly licked her way up along Ashley's throat
and, finally, to her face. After a brief moment of hesitation,
the two girls kissed each other full on the lips. The kiss seemed
to last a long, glorious lifetime, as their tongues entwined,
broke free and then joined again.
      Both girls were panting by the time their lips parted...

     This was great!
     Sharon snapped a close-up of the two girls' first kiss. It
couldn't have been any better if they had been posing for the
camera. Hell, she was getting hot just watching the action!

     "S-Stacy..." Ashley moaned. "I..."
     Stacy silenced her with another kiss. Once again, the kiss
was a long one, as they explored each other's mouths with their
tongues. Stacy resumed fondling Ashley's big tits. Whimpering
with pleasure, Ashley reciprocated, running the palms of her
sweaty hands up and down over Stacy's pert breasts. The two girls
continued kissing and fondling each other for a while before
Stacy broke away.
     "W-what is it?" Ashley asked breathlessly as Stacy sat up.
     "Just a second," her friend answered her. "This is going to
be so good." Stacy slipped off the bed wearing only her skirt and
looked over at Ashley lying spread out on the mattress. Her
friend's hair was in disarray, spread messily over the pillow.
Ashley's large breasts were covered with a thin sheen of sweat
which glistened in the light as they rose and fell in time with
her hurried breathing, the nipples standing firm on top. In spite
of herself - in spite of everything she knew was going to happen
- Stacy was becoming very excited. In the back of her mind, she
was aware of the presence of Gary and Sharon and their cameras,
but the drugs obscured that knowledge. The only thing that was
important was Ashley lying exposed on the mattress, and all the
wonderful things they were going to do with each other! But
first, she had to...
     "Take off your pants," she ordered, her voice thick with
lust. "I'll be right back." She moved quickly out of the room.
     Ashley complied, quickly slipping her jeans down her long
legs and kicking them free of her ankles and off of the bed.
After a moment's hesitation, she repeated this action with her
panties. Except for her white socks, she was now totally naked.
Anxiously awaiting Stacy's return, she moved her hand down over
her sweaty breasts and onto her moist cunt. Moaning slightly, she
rubbed her finger over her pussy.

     Gary zoomed in on her with the video camera as she
masturbated herself. After a close-up of her pussy, he panned the
camera up her sweat-glistening body to her vacant, panting
face...

     Stacy returned a few moments later with a small container
and a hand mirror. She stopped in the doorway to watch Ashley
masturbate for a few moments, but then walked forward and leaned
over her squirming friend. Ashley, keeping one hand on her pussy,
reached up invitingly, but Stacy shook her head. "Just a second,"
she said. "Let's do this first."
     Frustrated, Ashley stopped masturbating and sat up as Stacy
opened the container and spilled some white powder onto the
mirror. Her pulse sped up as she realized what Stacy was doing.
Ashley had smoked some pot and hash at school parties, but,
contrary to press reports about drug abuse in schools, cocaine
was still very rare. She had seen it once before, but never
actually tried it. The thought of it made her nervous.
     "Stacy..."
     "Just try it," Stacy interrupted. "It'll make the sex a
million times better."
      As if demonstrating, Stacy pulled out a narrow tube and
inhaled a line of coke up one nostril. After sniffing for a few
seconds, she repeated the action with the other nostril. Ashley
watched, impressed in spite of herself. She had no idea that
Stacy was so experienced!
     "Here." Stacy handed over the tube. "You try."
      Sharon took a picture of Stacy with the cocaine, and then
waited expectantly for Ashley to do the same. The cocaine had
been Karen's idea; a perfect way to strengthen their hold on the
two girls!
          After a brief hesitation, Ashley accepted the tube and
tried
to inhale the coke. Her first attempt was a bit of a failure, and
a good portion of the coke ended up on her upper lip. The second
try went better, and the drug blasted its way into the back of
her head.
      "Wow..."
      She began to feel the rush as Stacy leaned forward and
licked the spilled cocaine off Ashley's lip. This struck the two
girls as very exciting, and they began to take turns spilling
small amounts of cocaine on each other's bodies and then licking
it off.

     Gary reached down and began massaging his raging erection
through his jeans as he filmed the action on the bed. This was
going much better than he had expected. Maybe this video would
have some commercial value! Behind him, he could feel Neil trying
to look around him again. This time he just squeezed to one side
- keeping an eye on the viewfinder - and let Neil take a look. It
seemed unlikely that the writhing girls on the bed would notice
any small noises they were making in the closet.

     Eventually, this game degenerated into straightforward sex.
First, it was Ashley, lying back on the bed with Stacy's face
buried in her crotch. The sensation of her friend's tongue on her
clit sent Ashley into a wave of screaming orgasms that seemed to
last forever. Then she was returning the favour, bunching up
Stacy's short skirt around her waist and  kneeling in front of
Stacy's widely spread legs, her tongue flickering in and out of
her friend's sopping cunt. This was followed by more fondling and
kissing as each girl, now sweaty and panting ran their hands and
tongue frantically over each other's body. Finally, they ended up
lying head to tail, simultaneously lapping at each other's cunts.
They came together this time, a clutching, writhing mass of
sweaty, panting female flesh.
     Finally, their lust subsided as the drugs began to work
their way out of their systems. When Ashley came to her senses,
she was lying arm in arm with her smaller friend, exhausted and
sticky. She lay there for a few moments, gathering her wits.
      Gary took one last picture, turned off the video-camera and
began to move the tripod aside. It was pretty much over now. Time
to come out of the closet...

     "S-Stacy..." Ashley stammered, suddenly embarrassed. "What
happened? What have we..."
     "Shh." Stacy interrupted, leaning up and giving her a kiss.
"It's alright."
     Ashley resisted, pulling away. "It's not alright," she
insisted. "What if someone finds out? I can't..."
     "What, " came a new voice from behind her, "if someone
already knows?"
     Horrified, Ashley whirled around on the bed in time to see
Gary emerging from the walk-in closet, camera in hand.
     "No!!"

     By the time Sharon shoved open the closet door with her
foot, straightened out her cramped legs and managed to climb
awkwardly to her feet, Gary was pretty much finished explaining
the situation to their horrified victim. Ashley had pulled up
Stacy's duvet cover to cover her nudity and was listening, wide
eyed, while Gary explained her options. As Stacy's had been a few
months earlier, they were pretty limited: either do as she was
told, or they would release the video-tape and pictures to
everyone who was interested. Sharon noted that Stacy had made no
attempt to cover herself; she just sat, silent and topless, on
the side of the bed, staring straight down at the floor.
     "Well?"
      Gary had finished his explanation, and was waiting for an
answer. Sharon noticed that Neil was looking on anxiously; even
he realized that Ashley could fuck things up for them badly if
she refused to co-operate.
     "What's it gonna be?"


-!- uugate 0.36 (OS/2 2.99)
 ! Origin: Anonymous contact service (2:200/427.1)


Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8586                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:26
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year8/11
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
down, "was that he wanted to take her out in public; to a movie
of something."
      This brought fresh laughter.
      "So what did she do?" Karen asked. The normally shy girl was
beginning to feel more confident around these people. They were
her friends.
     "What could she do? She came on all seductive and told him
how she would rather spend her time with him alone; in private,
so they could have more fun. So, he ended up inviting him to his
place for a little 'fun'."
     Another round of laughter.
     "So what about the latest round of pictures?" Neil asked a
few moments later. "The first set did pretty well. Any luck with
the new ones."
     Gary smiled crookedly. "Oh yes," he answered. "'Cumshot'
magazine brought the entire series we shot with her sucking you
off. You're going to be famous; or at least your cock is going to
be famous."
     Neil was impressed. "Cool."
      "How much?" Sharon asked.
     "Six hundred," Gary answered. "'Young Things' also bought
the set with her and the dildo. They'll also be publishing the
photos from the first set in this months' issue. That's another
$750 to split up. There's a couple others as well."
     Karen looked on unbelieving as Gary began to split up the
money. She had only become involved in the group's activities
after the first set of pictures had been taken, and she had no
idea they were making so much money.
     "Uh... guys?" She had an idea. "Maybe we can get Ashley
involved in this somehow. I could use some of that money."
     Gary looked up at her. "Would she do it? Would she pose for
pictures?"
     Karen thought for a moment. "Well, it might take some
convincing; particularly if she knows they're going to be
published..."
     "Oh, don't tell her that," Sharon interrupted. "Stacy
doesn't know. We got her to sign a release one night while she
was high on Gary's drugs. All she knows is that we're taking the
pictures for our own use."
     A slow grin began to creep across Karen's face. That was
possible... and she sure could use the money. "I'll see what I
can do."
     Gary nodded, and went back to counting the money. The four
teenagers sat in silence for a few moments, contemplating their
profits.
     "So," Neil said eventually. "What's this I hear about
another football party?"

                             *****

     NUMBER 37-49
     Stacy blew into the whistle, signalling the end of the
Recreation class. At the "request" of a couple of her students
(ie. Tim & Dennis) and with the subsequent "encouragement" of
Sharon, she was dressed in an ultra-short tennis skirt which
barely reached four inches below the bottom curves of her ass.
She had been wearing this outfit to Rec class for the last few
weeks, and the male contingent of the class had been enjoying the
show, particularly when she had to bend down to pick up sports
equipment. At first, she had been mortified, and flushed red
every time she caught some of her students staring at her, but
after a while she learned to ignore the attention, or, at least,
live with it. It might not have been so bad if she had been
allowed to wear panties.
     The class dispersed and Stacy wandered into the office space
set aside for the Rec instructors and began to prepare for Tim
and Dennis's inevitable visit. She had been fucking and sucking
them the both of them weekly ever since first term. Closing the
door behind her, Stacy walked quickly to her bag and pulled out a
thermos. She did not want to be caught before she could drug
herself with Gary's mixture. She knew it made her act like a
slut, but what else could she do? Sex without the drugs was
painful and humiliating; the drugs at least took care of the
pain.
      Stacy opened the thermos and took a drink, grimacing at the
taste. Beer! She hated beer. During the last couple of months,
Gary had, for some reason, been varying the type of alcohol in
which he mixed the drugs. At first, it had always been scotch
whisky, but lately he had gone through vodka, gin, wine and now
beer. Stacy had wanted to ask why, but was too scared. Of her
three tormentors, Gary was by far the scariest. Sharon was a
sadistic bitch and thoroughly enjoyed dominating Stacy and Neil
was constantly forcing her to have sex with him, but there was
something weird about Gary. Something dangerous. It was best just
to do what he said and not ask questions.
     She took another swallow of the beer and sat down on the
desk as the drugs began to take their desired effect. Slowly, but
inevitably, she felt the now familiar fog gradually envelop her
brain, disassociating herself from her body. Just as inevitably,
she felt the warm tingling begin in her groin and then spread
steadily upwards into her breasts. One more drink and then she
put the top back on the thermos; it was already over half empty,
and she still had a session with the Schaefer brothers later that
afternoon. Normally she wasn't worried about running out, but it
had been a busy day; Pat Saunders had fucked her up the ass in
the woods out behind the playing field on the way to school that
morning, and Neil had forced her to give him a blow job under a
desk in the Study Hall over lunch. Neither had counted. Just as
Tim and Dennis wouldn't count. Just as the Schaefer's wouldn't
count.
     The feelings of arousal began to increase. She looked over
at the clock, impatient. What was keeping them? If they didn't
come soon, she would be late for the Schaefers. An involuntary
shudder of pleasure ran through her body at the thought of the
two obese brothers. They were disgustingly fat and stupid, but
they could sure fuck! Stacy hung her head in shame as she
remembered her slutty behaviour at their place last weekend, but
she couldn't help it. She was still being blackmailed by Gary and
his friends, and it was the drugs which made it possible for her
to carry out her orders. She couldn't help it if she was turning
into a slut. But the Schaefers...
     Stacy glanced back up at the clock. Still no sign of the
boys. She reached down, hiked up her short skirt and began to rub
her fingers over her bare pussy...

                              *****

     "Have you seen Stacy?"
     Gary looked at his watch and smirked.
      "It's Friday," he answered. "She should be taking care of
the her Rec class 'students' right about now."
     "Oh, right," Sharon nodded, feeling dumb. Stacy had been
having afternoon fuck sessions with those two guys in her class
for months now. She would have to call her later.
      "Well, how about Karen?" she asked. "I've got to confirm
things for the football party next weekend. She has to make sure
Ashley is available."
     "I haven't... oh, there she is."
      Gary pointed towards the far end of the hallway. Karen had
just come around the corner, followed closely by Ashley. The two
girls seemed to be having something of an argument. Ashley seemed
to be almost in tears about something. A few seconds later, Karen
said something and pointed towards a side room - the biology lab.
Ashley shook her head at first, but complied a few moments later,
entering the room. Karen followed, shutting the door behind her.
     Sharon started walking down the hall towards the room, but
Gary grabbed her arm and steered her to a different door.
     "What are you doing?"
     "There's a storage room with a small window leading into the
biology lab," he explained. "We can get into it through here." He
led her across a different classroom and through a doorway in the
rear.
      "Let's see what's happening."

                              *****

     Mr. Edgar wandered about, confused and lost in the seemingly
endless maze of narrow hallways behind the school gymnasium. As a
math teacher, he had found little reason to venture into this
part of the school in the past, and he was having more than a
little difficulty trying to locate Mr. Sprauge, the football
coach. The two teachers were in the course of their yearly
argument regarding academic eligibility and certain members of
the football team. This year, Sprauge was particularly upset
about the failure of his star receiver to successfully complete
Mr. Edgar's remedial math course, and was making life difficult
for the entire faculty. Edgar was willing to compromise, but he
had to find the football coach first.
     The portly teacher came to a short hallway which ended in a
closed door. It looked like an office. He ambled down it and,
hoping to find someone to help him out, pushed open the door. He
poked his head in to look around and his jaw dropped open with
amazement. Sitting on the edge of the desk was Stacy Richards;
the beautiful, blonde Stacy Richards who had done so well in his
math class last term (highest marks ever!). The Stacy Richards
who had sat in the front row of the class each Monday, Wednesday
and Friday morning, with her golden blonde hair and her angelic
green eyes...
     She wasn't looking quite so angelic now.
     She had hiked up her short, white skirt, exposing her naked
crotch and was busily rubbing her left hand up and down over her
pussy lips. Mr. Edgar could see moisture glistening in the thatch
of blonde pussy hair. As he watched, she bunched three fingers
together and began to slide them in and out of her wet pussy. Her
right hand was similarly occupied with her breasts, which were
more or less fully exposed through the unfastened buttons of her
blouse. She alternately cupped, squeezed and pinched her tits,
paying particular attention to the firm nipples. Stacy's head was
thrown back, her eyes closed and her slightly lips parted as she
masturbated.
     The shocked math teacher froze, paralysed with indecision.
What to do? Should he rush in and put a stop to this outrageous
behaviour? His mind said yes, but his quickly hardening cock
argued otherwise. This situation could easily be mis-interpreted;
the wave of politically correct hysteria presently sweeping
through the schools could see him losing his position as a
teacher at even the slightest hint of impropriety. Best not to go
in, he decided. He could also slip away quietly, ignoring the
incident altogether. His timid nature preferred this course of
action, but he found that he was unable to draw himself away from
his viewpoint in the doorway. He watched as Stacy brought herself
closer and closer to an orgasm. What should he do? Best to slip
away quietly, he finally decided.
       Mr. Edgar turned to leave, but just as he did, he heard
footsteps behind him moving closer. Sounded like students.
Caught! Panicked, he looked around; there was nowhere to go
except...
      Stacy felt the pleasure from her masturbation just begin to
crest over into an orgasm when she heard a noise at the door. It
must be Tim and Dennis. Despite her situation, she found herself
welcoming their presence. She was so hot...
     She opened her eyes. OMIGOD!! It was Mr. Edgar, the math
teacher. All feelings of arousal fled instantly as she froze in
shock. What was he doing here? How long had he been watching? Had
he seen...
     Recovering the power of movement, she quickly allowed her
short skirt to fall down over her crotch, and - wiping her hand
on her skirt to clear away the pussy juices - she pulled shut her
blouse.
     She watched as Mr. Edgar quickly shut the door behind
himself and moved uncertainly towards her, his face flushed. He
looked angry, or... something.
      "M-mr. Edgar," she stammered, "I... I didn't know t-that..."

                              *****

     Gary, moving slowly and quietly, brought his face up the
small window set in the door between the biology lab class and
the science storeroom. He peered through, and, a few seconds
later, gestured for Sharon to join him at the window. Inside the
biology lab, Karen and Ashley were talking, maybe arguing. Ashley
was standing on one side of the room with her arms crossed in
front of her, looking away from Karen, who was leaning up against
a lab table on the other side of the room. Gary and Sharon could
just hear their voices, but they were unable to make out any
words, as the thick door effectively muffled the sound.
         Ashley sounded angry. From where they watched, the two
observers could see tears in her eyes. The beautiful brunette
turned briefly to spit something out at Karen and then turned
away again. Karen, on the other hand, was speaking slowly and
soothingly; she seemed to be repeating herself over and over
again.
     "What's going on?" Sharon whispered. "What are they fighting
about?"
     Gary shrugged. "Something about boys, I think. Karen's
telling her not to do something."
     A few second later, Karen straightened up and walked across
the room towards the older girl. Ashley turned away, hiding
behind a curtain of thick, reddish-brown hair, but Karen put her
hand on the taller girl's shoulder and slowly turned her around.
     Ashley was crying now, her eyes red and swollen. She dropped
her hands to her sides and said one word. Gary couldn't hear it,
but he understood well enough: "please."
      Karen slowly brought her hand up to the other girl's cheek
and brushed away a tear. Ashley flinched, but did not pull away.
They stood like this for a few moments, Ashley crying quietly and
Karen tenderly running her fingers up and down the other girl's
cheek.
     Then, slowly, Karen slipped her hand behind Ashley's head
and brought her face down to meet her own in a kiss. The two
girl's lips met...

                              *****

     The math teacher cast around for something to say or do, but
his tongue seemed frozen, thick and useless in his mouth. All he
could think of was the picture Stacy had presented a few moments
ago as he had spied upon her masturbating. Now, she was cringing
away from him, eyes wide with fear. What was he going to do? If
someone caught him in this position he would lose his job for
sure.
     Taking a deep breath, he gathered himself to speak. After
all, he reasoned, he was the teacher here. He was not the one who

-!- uugate 0.36 (OS/2 2.99)
 ! Origin: Anonymous contact service (2:200/427.1)


Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8589                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:26
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year9a/11
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
weather, the beach was exerting its almost magnetic pull on the
teenagers of Bakersville.
     The cafeteria was not, however, completely deserted. Three
students sat, quietly talking, in a corner table. Gary, as usual,
did most of the talking. He was also the one who handed out the
latest round of money from the sale of pictures to various
magazines. May had been a good month for them as far as picture
sales went. Stacy had now unwittingly adorned the pages of over a
dozen magazines across the country, with more to come. It was
only a matter of time before she found out - before someone in
Bakersville saw some of the pictures and spread the news - but
they didn't really care. Their time with Stacy was nearly done
anyway.
     The main cafeteria door opened and Karen walked in, followed
closely by Ashley. The two girls had spent more and more time
together over the last six weeks as Karen tightened her hold over
the older girl. Like Stacy, Ashley was the victim of blackmail,
and, as had been the case with Stacy, events had quickly moved
beyond her control. Since the incident which put her in this
vulnerable position in the first place, there had been any number
of events which had deepened Karen's hold on her. All Ashley
could think of was the end of the school year and freedom. All
Karen could think of was how nice it was to have such a beautiful
girl as Ashley as a personal slave, and how hard it would be to
give it up.
     If she gave her up...
     "Wait here," Karen ordered, moving towards her three friends
in the corner. Obediently, but not without a flash of anger, the
tall brunette sat down on a bench near the door.
      "What's up?" Karen asked as she approached. "Neil said you
wanted to meet."
     "Just the final plans for tomorrow night," Sharon told her.
"The football party." She looked over at where Ashley sat,
staring at the floor. "Everything's cool with her? Did she cause
any problems?"
     Karen plopped herself down beside Neil. "No," she answered.
"No problem. We'll be there."
     "Great," Sharon smiled. "I've got the perfect costume picked
out; the guys are gonna love her." Neil chuckled at this, but
Karen only frowned.
     "Listen," she said tentatively, "she's not gonna get... you
know... hurt or anything like that?"
     "Ha," Neil laughed. "Just get her brains fucked out. That's
all."
     "No," Karen ignored him. "I mean like, beaten, or... well...
you know."
     "Huh uh," Sharon shook her head. "Nothing like that. It's
just a party; the guys on the football team at BCN just want to
celebrate the end of the season with a big blow out. Stacy was
such a big hit the last time, they want her back again." Sharon
looked over at Gary who didn't react. "I offered them Ashley as
well because you said you wanted the money. They were willing to
pay twice as much for two girls."
     Karen looked undecided.
     "There's not a problem with that, is there?" Gary asked.
Karen looked over at Gary, meeting his intense stare for a few
moments and then looking away.
      "No," she answered finally. "I just don't want her hurt.
That's all."
     The table fell silent for a few moments.
     "OK then," Sharon stated. "That's settled. You'll meet us at
my house at eight to get the girls dressed."
     "Yeah," Karen told her, getting to her feet. "We'll be
there." This said, she turned and walked away towards the waiting
Ashley. She walked straight past her and out the door. After a
confused glance at the three teenagers in the corner, Ashley
scrambled to her feet and followed her out.
     "What was that all about?" Neil muttered.
     "Dunno." Sharon shrugged her shoulders.
     Gary laughed. His two friends turned towards him. "It's
spring," he explained, grinning.
     "Huh?"
     "You know," Gary insisted. "Spring. Birds and bees and that
sort of thing."

     His two friends stared at him, blank looks on their faces.
     Gary sighed.
      "I think our Karen is falling in love..."
*****

     When Peter Jenkins had called to invite her to a party up in
Point Hope, Stacy had jumped at the opportunity. Peter was two
years older than her, and had been a senior at Greenwood when
Stacy had been in grade ten. They had gone steady for a little
while - about nine dates altogether - but Stacy had eventually
dumped him when the current captain of the football team had
expressed an interest in her. She had never really seen much of
Peter after that; she knew that he didn't get another girlfriend
that year, but never really thought about it. In her mind, the
split-up had been entirely natural, and, if it bothered him,
well... he'd just have to grow up a bit, wouldn't he?
     Thus, when he called her up, she had not hesitated to accept
his invitation. He had moved to the nearby town of Point Hope
after graduation, where he worked as a clerk in a department
store. For Stacy, it represented the chance to get away from her
present situation; to go to a party with people who didn't know
her and wouldn't force her to have sex with them. It sounded
perfect.
     She even bought a new dress for the occasion. A sleeveless
green dress with little ruffles on the shoulders. It matched her
eyes perfectly, and, she thought, it made her look a bit like a
little girl. She had made a mental note to do her hair up into a
pony tail. It was the sort of look which used to drive the guys
wild back when she had enjoyed that sort of teasing. Now, of
course, she was obliged, as often as not, to put out, so the
cock-teasing was not as much fun as it used to be.
     Not tonight, though. Tonight, she could be her old self. No
one in Point Hope knew her or went to Greenwood. It would be just
like old times.
     Peter showed up at 7:00 PM as planned. It was almost a two
hour drive to Point Hope, so he wanted to leave fairly early. She
had been ready a good fifteen minutes before he arrived, but she
still kept him waiting downstairs for almost half an hour; it was
just like old times.
     He hadn't changed much. Always rather short, the last couple
of years had seen his body fill out quite a bit until he was
beginning to show a bit of pudginess. Obviously, the clerking job
at the department store didn't involve much physical activity.
Stacy felt herself sneering a bit as he led her out to his car -
a somewhat battered Toyota Tercel; he was turning into a bit of a
slob. The way he looked now, he couldn't be getting too much in
the way of attention from any girls; that was probably why he had
turned to his old high school girlfriend for a date at this
party. No doubt he'd be so overwhelmed at having such a beautiful
date as herself, he'd do whatever she wanted. What a schmuck!
     The drive up the coast to Point Hope was not particularly
scenic. The only real nice part of the drive came just as they
passed by the Point Hope Maximum Security Penitentiary and
crested the hill leading down into the town itself. Point Hope
was a quiet little town nestled against the beach below the
sandstone cliffs. The view from the top of the hill was little
short of spectacular.
     Stacy, however, had seen it all before. Besides, she was
having too much fun annoying Peter. The two hour drive had been
marked by small talk and long silences, but Stacy had quickly
discovered that Peter was still easily upset by talk of their
brief relationship a couple years earlier in high school. He had
flushed an angry red when she had brought it up earlier in the
trip, and had, since then, shut up almost entirely. Stacy,
however, was enjoying herself immensely. She made a point of
bringing it up as often as possible. By the time they arrived at
the party, she was in a great mood, and Peter was quiet and
sullen.

     Peter fought to remain patient as he led Stacy up the walk
to the front door. This had better be worth it!
      He had received a phone call from a guy - some kid - at
Greenwood, telling him something about Stacy's recent activities,
and about her "weakness" for alcohol. The caller had suggested
that once she had a couple of drinks in her, she would do
anything, and that 'wouldn't it be nice if the two of them got
back together for a date.'
     Peter wasn't sure if he believed him, but it was worth a
try. Stacy had been an incredible bitch to him in high school,
and any chance to get even was well worth attempting.
     Since the phone call, he had been experiencing this
recurring fantasy...
          Stacy quickly realized that she was overdressed for the
party. Most of the guests seemed to be blue collar workers from a
local fish packing plant; the majority of them wore nothing more
fancy than jeans and tee-shirts. Stacy was the only woman there
in a dress. She was also the only one young enough to be in high
school.
     Peter immediately brought her a glass of punch. When she
sipped at it, Stacy discovered that it was a bit strong for her
taste, but not too bad. She took another, longer, drink from the
glass. The way things were shaping up at the party, a couple of
drinks might well be called for. The whole idea of coming to this
party with her ex-boyfriend was beginning to look like a bad
idea. A little alcohol never hurt anyone; she finished the drink.
Peter brought her another one and stood talking with her while
she finished that one as well.
     He asked her to dance.
     At first, everything went well. The music was up-tempo and
the dancing was fun, despite her inappropriate dress. After a
while, though, she began to feel a bit queasy. It must have been
the punch. In fact, she realized suddenly, if felt a little
like...
     A new song started. A slow song.
      Peter pulled her close, into his chest; instinctively, she
draped her bare arms over his shoulders and they began to dance,
slowly revolving around the dance floor. As they danced, Stacy
began to experience the now-familiar feeling of disassociation as
the room started to spin. She closed her eyes and held on to
Peter's shoulders, trying to fight off the dizziness. The music
and other noise in the room seemed to recede into the background.
The drug! They had drugged her; Gary must have arranged this.
      Panicked, Stacy tried to disentangle herself, but she was
unable to do so. Her limbs failed to respond properly, and it was
all she could do to hold onto her dance partner in order to keep
herself from sinking to the floor. Around and around they went,
each revolution sending Stacy's perception spinning, until all
she was aware of in the room was Peter. There was nothing else;
just a blur of sound and a solid object she could hang onto.
     She felt the warm tingling begin in her groin.
     "Stacy..."
     A voice! Her eyes opened and struggled to focus on the face
in front of her. Peter? Everything else was a blur.
     "Do you remember going out with me in high school?"
     Remember? Of course she remembered. Stacy nodded in the
affirmative, still trying to focus. Why was he asking? The tingle
in her groin grew stronger.
     "We went on nine dates," Peter murmured to her. "Nine
dates..."
     Stacy felt one of his hands leave her shoulder, slide down
the back of her dress and latch onto her ass. She felt that she
should make some objection, but...
      "And all I got was one kiss," the voice continued. "One
kiss..."
     The blonde teenager tried to focus on what Peter was saying,
but the hand on her butt was making concentration difficult. She
felt the hand pull away...
     "One kiss..."
     ...and begin pulling the zipper of her dress down her back.
She tried to wriggle free, but her arms remained wrapped around
Peter's shoulders.
     "I don't think that's fair. Do you?"
     "N-no." Stacy discovered that she could speak, although even
her own voice seemed distant to her. The zipper was now all the
way down, and she could feel the cool air of the room on the
small of her back. The feelings of arousal increased, spreading
up from her crotch into her belly. Involuntarily, she ground her
lower body against Peter as the dance continued.
     "So," Peter continued, "we're going to work through those
dates now. All nine of them. As they should have been."
     Stacy tried to shake her head, no. Not here; she wanted him
to take her to a bedroom or something... do what he wanted there,
but not here. Not in front of...
     "First date," he whispered, his tongue licking out at her
hear. "A kiss would be nice."
     Retreating from her ear, he brought his lips down against
hers. She moaned softly, parting her lips, but he quickly pulled
away. That felt so good, but not here. Please, not here.
     "Second date," he continued. One of the straps of the dress
slid off a shoulder. She tried to shrug it back on, but it just
slipped further down her arm.
      "Maybe some tongue."
     This time, he thrust his tongue into her willing mouth. She
kissed back, unable to do anything else as a wave of lust surged
through her body. Oh god...
      The kiss broke, but the dance continued.
The dance continued through the "third date", where he
copped a feel of her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Her
nipples hardened immediately when he ran his fingers over them.
     On the "fourth date", he removed her bra, unclipping it from
behind her back and sliding it off. By now, her dress had slid
down off the other shoulder, uncovering her back all the way down
to the top of her ass and leaving her breasts partly exposed...
     More of the same on the "fifth date". Some heavy necking
while mauling at her now almost-naked breasts. By now, Stacy was
panting with lust, all thought of where she was and who she was
with having fled her mind. All that mattered was...
     The dance. She missed what he said on the "sixth date", but
by the end of the "seventh", she was grinding her crotch against
him with abandon...
     "Eight date," he panted, hoarse. "It's time you felt my
cock."
     She didn't need to be told twice. Groaning with lust, she
disentangled one arm from around his neck and reached down to his

-!- uugate 0.36 (OS/2 2.99)
 ! Origin: Anonymous contact service (2:200/427.1)


Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8592                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:26
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year9b/11
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
But Stacy didn't care; she just wanted more. Squealing with
pleasure, she eased herself back, impaling her nether-hole on the
cock. She heard the guy groan as he began to pump himself in and
out.
     Moaning with lust, she reached up a hand and began to use
her fingers to scrape the cum from her face and slide it into her
mouth.
     "God, what a slut!"
     But Stacy didn't care...
      Cumslut didn't care...
      The brunette - "Melons" the fat girl had called her - tried
to scramble away off the mattress after Jeff had finished with
her, but two guys grabbed her and held her down on her back. She
kicked and screamed, but was unable to fight her way free.
     Billy "Headhunter" Hawkins looked down on her as she
wriggled madly on the mattress. Her pussy looked red, raw from
Jeff's recent assault (Jeff was one well-hung dude! Wasn't that
the truth). One of her massive tits had popped free from the
questionable protection of the bra, and floppy freely as the girl
struggled to free herself.
      "Well shee-it," he drawled. "Looks like Melons here needs a
cock up her cunt."
     Melons stopped struggling and looked up, her eyes wide with
horror as the beefy linebacker undid his belt and let his pants
slip down to his ankles. His cock, its tip already glistening,
hung down in front of him.
     "Looks good, huh girl?" Hawkins played with it, stroking it
to its full size. It didn't take long. "Ten inches of prime
Mississippi man-meat."
     "Please..."
     Laughing, Hawkins lowered himself to his knees and fell
forward on top of her, crushing her breasts beneath his great
weight. It only took a moment before his cock was inside of her
tight, warm pussy...

     Something snapped.
     Maybe it was the cock in her asshole. Maybe it was the taste
and feel of the sperm which half-covered her face. But, something
snapped.
     A sudden, overwhelming wave of orgasms rumbled up from her
battered pussy and washed over her abused body as the lone cock
sawed in and out of her ass. Screaming wildly, Stacy - Cumslut -
thrashed about, orgasm after orgasm shooting through her. The guy
riding her asshole could only grab onto her thighs and hold on as
she bucked wildly beneath him...

     Hawkins looked up from where he was fucking brunette.
      She was no longer fighting, having given up the struggle as
another guy - Stadler, the centre - had shoved his cock between
those gorgeous lips and into her pleading mouth. She just lay
there now, limp and accepting as the two football players fucked
her helpless body.
     Someone was screaming.
      Hawkins stopped moving - leaving his cock buried deep inside
Melon's tight teenage cunt - and squinted across the room to see
what was happening. Stadler, however, ignored screaming; he just
continued sliding his spit-glistening cock in and out of the
brunette's mouth.
     It was the blonde slut. She was bucking and screaming while
Pete Brindle held on for dear life.
     "YES... YES... YES..."
      She seemed almost crazed as she bounced up and down under
Pete's dead weight. Finally, the football player was able to hold
on no longer. His grip on her sweaty thigh slipped free, and he
was thrown off. His cock flapped wildly in the air as he rolled
off the mattress and slammed into the couch.
     The girl stopped thrashing as the cock left her ass and
started to look about frantically, her green eyes wild with lust
and her left hand sawing in and out of her dripping pussy.
     "Cocks," she cried. "I need cocks... fuck me; fuck me...
pleeeeeeeeeze..." She looked about, but everyone in the room was
frozen with shock.
     Frustrated, she fell back on her ass and spread her legs
invitingly.
      "Please fuck me," she begged. Her other hand was now playing
roughly with her breasts. "Fuck Cumslut... fuck Cumslut..." She
continued to masturbate, muttering to herself as she reached
another, smaller, orgasm.
     "Please,"she begged quietly, shuddering in the aftermath of
the orgasm. "Please fuck me... fuck Cumslut..."

     Sharon watched open-mouthed as Stacy writhed sluttishly on
the mattress, mewling quietly and pleading to be fucked. She
would never have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her
own...
      THE CAMERA!
      Sharon looked down at the video camera as it hung uselessly
at her side. Fuck. Gary would kill her!
     She looked up. The room had gone silent as everyone stared
at the blonde teenager on the mattress. Stacy was now scraping
cum from her tits and licking it off her fingers. Even the player
fucking Ashley had stopped moving. The only movement from the
room came from the big guy pumping is cock in and out of Ashley's
mouth. He had his eyes closed, and seemed to be off in his own
world, as he fucked the beautiful brunette's face.
     No one else moved.
      'Christ,' Sharon thought. 'I'd better do something quick
before the whole night's ruined.'
     A groan came from the other end of the room. The guy fucking
Ashley's mouth finally came, shooting sperm into her mouth and
then onto her outraged face as she tried to turn away. She
coughed and choked, but wouldn't swallow.
     The guy looked up, opening his eyes. Everyone was staring at
him except Ashley, who was busy coughing up his sperm.
     "Jeez," he muttered, puzzled at the attention.
     Sharon had an idea.
     "OK," she cried, quickly moving forward to the centre of the
room. "So much for round one."
     All eyes in the room now turned to her. Nervous, she looked
about the room. Ahh... there it was.
      "Pull that coffee table over," she ordered. Two of the
football players obliged. The coffee table had been slid up
against the wall at the back of the living room. It stood just
over two feet off the ground and was about four feet long. The
guys set it down in front of her.
     "Good," she stated. "Now bring the sluts over here."
     The guy who had been fucking Ashley pulled out and dragged
her to her feet. The tall brunette stumbled on the high-heels,
but was able to remain upright as he dragged her across the room
to the coffee table. Sharon pushed Ashley down on her knees at
one end of the table, facing over the table-top. When Ashley was
in position, Sharon pushed the top of her body downwards, so her
upper body was lying flat across the top of the table.
     "OK, now..." Sharon turned, but no one had moved to get
Stacy. Everyone seemed a little spooked by her. She had been left
by herself on the mattress as she rubbed her fingers over her
inflamed pussy and muttered to herself.
     "C'mon Cumslut," Sharon called at her. Stacy looked up.
"Here Cumslut." Sharon talked to her as if she were a dog.
"C'mon. Come get fucked."
     "Fucked?"
      That got her attention. Scrambling awkwardly to her feet,
Stacy stumbled over to the coffee table. Sperm dripped from her
mouth and pussy as Sharon placed her, kneeling, opposite Ashley
across the coffee table. When she pushed the squirming girl down
onto the top of the table, Stacy's and Ashley's faces met almost
exactly halfway across.
     "Anyone got a couple of belts?" In short order, two belts
had been produced, and Sharon used them to secure the two girls
into position by wrapping them around their lower backs and under
the coffee table.
     Sharon leaned forward.
      "OK sluts," she whispered. "Lets see some lezzie stuff. The
guys need warming up."
     Almost immediately, Stacy reached up (as best she could,
strapped in as she was) and cupped Ashley's face in her hands.
The brunette tried to pull away, but her movement was restricted
by the belt, and she was unable to get free. Slowly and gently,
Stacy pushed her face forward and planted a soft kiss on Ashley's
cum-stained lips.

     Ashley quit struggling as she felt Stacy's lips, soft and
warm, on her own. She knew it was wrong, but it felt so good!
Particularly after all the rough treatment she had been
experiencing. Almost involuntarily, she parted her sticky lips
and moaned softly as Stacy's wet tongue slid into her mouth and
began exploring. In moments, the two girls were kissing
passionately, their tongues entwined. After the repeated, brutal
rapes of the past forty-five minutes, it seemed like heaven to
Ashley. The gentleness of the other girl's lips sent shivers of
pleasure shooting through her abused body.
     The spell was broken when Ashley heard the guys start
cheering. She opened her eyes; both her and Stacy looked around
in panic as the members of the football team formed lines behind
them and, one at a time, slid their re-aroused cocks into the
girls' pussies. Ashley started to struggle at this new invasion,
but Stacy brought her hands up and cupped her face.
     "Relax," the blonde teenager whispered. "It's easier."
     Ashley started to spit out a retort, but was cut off by the
feel of Stacy's lips once again meeting hers. The brunette closed
her eyes and tried to relax; shutting out the world - shutting
out the sharp pain in her asshole as one of the players brutally
rammed his cock in - as if nothing else existed other than this
beautiful girl in front of her.
      As if nothing else mattered other than the feel of her
soft, velvety lips as they writhed against her own...

     Hawkins watched, gently massaging his cock, as the two
teenage sluts necked together while simultaneously getting their
asses reamed out by one guy after another. Jesus, it was hot! He
didn't, however, join the queue. He had unfinished business with
the brunette - Melons - and wanted to make sure he had her full
attention when he fucked her. He could see the way Ashley's
senses were closed to the world while his teammates fucked her
ass and cunt. Not like the blonde bitch. She was hot. She was
moaning and wriggling back against each cock as it impaled her
from behind. As far as he could tell, she had come at least four
times since the fat girl had belted her down to the coffee table.
She was really into the lez-bo stuff too; her and Melons were
going at it like a pair of bitches in heat.
     Eventually, his chance came up, as the stream of football
players began to slack off a bit. They had each come at least
twice now, and those that wanted more were choosing the blonde
cunt. She fucked back, while the other - sexy a bitch as she
was - just lay there, unresisting.
      Hawkins waited until there were no more guys waiting and
then moved forward to unstrap the tall brunette. She struggled as
he tore her away from her kiss with her blonde friend, but
offered no real resistance as he threw her down on a mattress.
She just stared up at him, wild-eyed, as he lowered himself
between her legs and once again thrust his cock into her sopping
pussy. This time he was going to cum inside her. The bitch began
to cry as Hawkins fucked her, but he didn't mind that.
     Hell, it just meant she was paying attention.

     Karen sat, motionless, in the front seat of Sharon's car,
staring blankly out the front window at the house. It had been
over an hour now. She should have taken Sharon's advice and gone
into the house to watch, but just the idea of those guys and what
they would do to her Ashley...
      Karen shook her head, trying to banish those thoughts from
her mind. It had been a running battle to keep the brunette from
going out with guys from school. If that slut wanted cock so
badly, she was welcome to it. She would be getting a lot of it.
Karen would see to that. Even better, there was a lot of money to
be made, as Sharon had pointed out. Lots of cash.
     So, why did she feel so sick just thinking about it? Why did
the mere thought of some big shithead of a male sticking his ugly
cock into Ashley make feel like crying?
     Enough! Karen reached for the handle and pushed open the car
door...

     Sharon had videotaped the entire scene on the coffee table,
and was now focusing on Stacy as the blonde slut began servicing
two guys: one from behind her as she knelt, strapped in place,
over the wooden surface, and one in her mouth as he straddled the
coffee table in front of her.
      She continued to keep the camera away from Ashley, who
refused to become aroused. Sharon couldn't understand it; Ashley
had drank as much of the drug as Stacy, but she wasn't...
     Realization dawned.
      There was no drug! Gary hadn't been putting anything in
Stacy's drinks for three months now. The stuff in the thermos had
only been alcohol. Ashley was doing this straight!
     Sharon stared open-mouthed as the tall brunette, tears
streaming down her face, was being fucked on the mattress. Then
she looked back at Stacy on the coffee table. If Ashley was doing
this without the benefit of the drug, then so was Stacy. On the
coffee table, Stacy groaned with pleasure as her body was wracked
with yet another orgasm.
     The door behind her banged shut. Sharon whirled around to
see...

     Karen ran into the room, her pudgy face red with exertion.
Where was... She stopped in her tracks as her eyes lit on the
mattress where some asshole was lying between Ashley's spread
legs, pumping his cock in and out while the tall brunette cried
and struggled beneath him.
     Sharon reached towards her, but Karen shook off her hand.
     "Get off of her, you asshole," she screeched, running
towards the mattress. Shocked, the guy looked up from where he
was fucking Ashley just in time to see Karen come barrelling
across the room towards him. He only had time to throw up his
hands as the fat teenager slammed into him with enough force to
make him think he was back on the football field. With a shout,
he fell back, his cock sliding out of Ashley's sopping cunt just
as he came. A wad of sperm flew up and sailed across the room,
splattering against the back wall.
     "K-Karen?" Ashley looked up at her rescuer from where she
was cringing on the mattress, confused and frightened.
     "It's OK honey," Karen said soothingly, bending down to help
the naked girl to her feet. "I've got you now."
     The room fell silent as Karen helped the crying brunette to

-!- uugate 0.36 (OS/2 2.99)
 ! Origin: Anonymous contact service (2:200/427.1)


Ä Area: ALT.SEX.STORIES ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
  Msg#: 8597                                         Date: 14 Dec 94  13:31
  From: an53629                                      Read: Yes    Replied: No 
    To: All                                          Mark:                     
  Subj: #2 REPOST Stacy's Senior Year10 (last part)
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
     "Young lady," he said sternly, breaking the silence, "is
there anything you wish to say or... do to convince me to
exercise my discretionary powers in favour of giving you a
passing grade."
      He stared at her from behind his bifocals.
      "I can do that, you know."
     Stacy wasn't stupid. She knew what he was talking about.
     "S-sir," she stammered, flushing red. "I'll do whatever I
have to do to pass; whatever you w-want." The blonde teenager
fought down the bile which rose in her lovely throat. She was
supposed to be finished with this bullshit.
     Dr. Grossman raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"
     "Yes sir," she answered quietly.
     They understood each other.
     Moving suddenly, the school principal leaned forward in his
chair and punched a button on his intercom.
      "Ms. Peabody," he ordered. "Hold all my calls and visitors
for the next two hours. And call Gardner to the office. He can
wait out there." The secretary acknowledged the orders.
     Dr. Grossman sat back in his chair and stared over at the
trembling teenager. She looked so delicious, sitting there in her
tight jeans and pink top, her beautiful blonde hair done up in a
long braid.
      "OK Stacy," he said. "Here's the deal." He got to his feet
and walked slowly across the room towards her.
      "Stand up against the desk."
      She did as ordered. The large oak desk came up to just below
her crotch.
     "Now, bend over and grab these drawer handles."
      Once again, Stacy did as ordered. She was now bent over the
desktop, stretched out with her hands just reaching the two
drawer handles.
      "Now," the principal continued, running his gaze
appreciatively up and down her body "if you can hold that
position for the next two hours, you pass. But if, for any
reason, you let go of those handles... well, we'll be seeing you
at summer school. Do you understand?"
     "Yes sir," Stacy answered quietly. Her fingers curled
tightly around the small metal handles as she prepared herself
for the worst. A tear trickled down one cheek and fell onto the
desktop. She had a pretty good idea of what would soon be
happening...

     Harold Gardner was a big man. He was also a black man. He
worked as a janitor and general handyman at Greenwood High, a
position he had held ever since he had been personally hired by
the school principal, Dr. Grossman. He and Grossman went back a
long ways. They had similar tastes in certain... activities, and
both enjoyed membership in an exclusive Club. When Gardner had
lost his job at City Hall because of his criminal record,
Grossman had been happy to take him in and provide him with
employment. No blackmail or anything like that; just one friend
doing another friend a favour.
     Gardner looked over at Ms. Peabody and smiled. The secretary
looked over and acknowledged his smile. She too was a personal
appointee of Dr. Grossman and, like Gardner, she was a member of
the Club. Grossman had discussed his plans for Stacy with her a
couple of days earlier and, although she was somewhat concerned
about the risks, she had agreed to go along with it. If it
worked...
     A rhythmic slapping sound came from the principal's office.
It had been going on for about twenty minutes now, and showed no
sign of abating. Gardner and Peabody looked at each other and
smirked; they had a pretty good idea of what was happening in
there.
     Five minutes later, the sound stopped. The door to the
principal's office opened and Grossman looked out. His face was
flushed red, and damp with sweat.
      "Ah, Mr. Gardner," he said. "I wonder if you could help me
with a little 'matter' in here."
     "Ah'm sure ah can," Gardner answered, getting to his feet.
     "Is there anything I can do," Peabody asked hopefully.
     Grossman shook his head.
      "I'm afraid I need you out here," he answered. "You have to
hold my calls and keep people out of the office for the next
little while. Later though..."
      He smiled promised much as he closed the door.
     Ms. Peabody shivered and reached one hand down to massage
her pussy as she imagined what was going on in the office.

     Gardner didn't have to imagine any more.
     The blonde slut (as he thought of her) was lying across the
oak desk, grasping onto a couple of drawer handles as if her life
depended upon it. The janitor was somewhat surprised to see that
she was not tied down in any way, but said nothing. Grossman knew
what he was doing.
     Her jeans and panties were down around her ankles, and her
tight teenage ass was beet red from the spanking the principal
had been administering to her for the last half hour or so.
     "Harold," Grossman said, puffing slightly from his
exertions. "Stacy here was just saying how much she fancied
sucking on a black cock while I spanked her." He brought his hand
down sharply on the teenager's quivering ass.
      "Isn't that right Miss Richards?"
     Stacy flinched and squirmed when he hit her, but her hands
remained tight around the door handles.
     "Y-yes sir," she answered, gritting her teeth against the
pain. "I'm afraid I m-might make too much noise while... while
being spanked..."
     "And..."
     Stacy groaned with humiliation.
      "S-sir..." This was addressed to the janitor. "Would you put
your cock in my mouth please? If I have a c-cock to suck on... I
won't make so much n-noise."
      The blonde teenager squirmed on the desk as Grossman fondled
her beet red ass.
      "Well Harold," the principal asked. "Will you help her out?"
     Gardner, his cock already straining against his overalls,
quickly agreed. In a flash, he was seated behind Grossman's desk,
pulling out his large, black cock and feeding it to the crying
teenager as bent over in the desk in front of him. She gagged,
but soon accommodated it in her mouth.
      "Suck it, bitch," he ordered, cuffing her on the side of the
face. Obediently, she began to bob her head up and down. Hands
still firmly gripping the drawer handles, she began to slurp
hungrily at his cock. She was good.
      "Feels good, you little cocksucker," he complimented her.
"You've sucked plenty of cock before."
     Stacy groaned in humiliation as she slid her mouth up and
down on his cock, but didn't pull away.
      She just kept sucking.
      Even when Grossman continued the spanking, this time using a
wooden yardstick, whacking away at her ass until it was bruised
red and blue. Even when Gardner quickly came, spurting cum into
her sucking mouth and down her throat; she just sucked him dry
and then kept on sucking as he became hard again. Even when
Grossman, panting and gasping from his sadistic exertions,
finally stopped whacking her flaming bottom with the yardstick
and jammed his near-bursting cock first into her dry cunt, and
then into her tight asshole. She just kept sucking and squirming
until finally, both men let loose, flooding her with cum from
both ends.
     Even then, she just kept sucking until finally Gardner
pulled out of her mouth.
     Grossman, exhausted, leaned against the desk. His face had
turned an alarming shade of red, but there was a vicious smile on
his face. "OK," he said. "That's enough. You can let go now."
     Stacy tried, but her hands were so tightly wrapped around
the handles that it took her several seconds to tear them loose.
Groaning with pain and humiliation, she brought one hand up and
wiped ineffectually at the glistening sperm which covered her
lower face. The two men watched as she then bent over and slowly
pulled her panties and then jeans over her shining red ass,
covering the thin trail of sperm which trickled down her thigh.
     Finally, she was dressed. She turned her tear-stained face
towards the principal.
     "T-the test," she mumbled, dazed with pain.
     Grossman reached over, grabbed a pen and wrote a large
"Pass" on top of it.
      "Well done, Stacy," he congratulated her, still gasping. "I
just wish all of the students here at Greenwood were as dedicated
as you are."
     Stacy ignored the taunt. Moving carefully, she turned and
limped out of the office.
     "Jesus," Gardner muttered. "Yer jus' gonna let her walk
outta here like that? What a loss. Everyone in the Club will
wanna hear 'bout..."
     "The Club will meet her soon enough," Grossman chuckled,
reaching into a desk drawer and pulling out a cassette tape.
"We're not done with her yet..."

     Friday, the second of July.
      The last day of school at Greenwood High.
      The school seemed quiet, already half-deserted as a good
proportion of the students were skipping the final hours in
favour of starting their summer holiday a day early. Really, the
only reason to attend the last day was to pick up the school
yearbook and say goodbye to one's friends. The yearbook was
mailed out anyway, and, with more kids on the beach than in the
school, there was no real reason to say goodbye.
     Stacy Richards walked slowly along the quiet hallway,
rucksack full of gym equipment in one hand and school yearbook in
the other. Still in pain from the severe spanking administered to
her earlier in the week, she would have preferred to have stayed
at home, but her duties as a Rec Instructor had required her
presence at school to check through and store the class sports
equipment. Actually, she would have preferred to be on the beach
with her friends, but her ass was in no shape for a swimsuit.
Maybe in a couple of weeks, but not now.
     She walked up to her locker and began to dial the
combination on the lock when she became aware of a giggling
behind her. Turning, she saw three girls, from a lower grade,
looking at her and laughing. One of them was pointing to an open
yearbook.
     "What's so funny?" she asked, angry. She wasn't used to
being treated this way by her social inferiors at school.
Unintimidated, the girls just laughed and continued down the
hall.
      Puzzled, she watched them go. What was going on? Stacy
looked around. Suddenly paranoid, she noticed that others were
looking at her as well. Some of them were just grinning at her
while others flipped through their yearbooks, laughing and
whispering. The seemingly deserted school hallway now seemed full
of laughing, whispering students. What was happening?
     Locker forgotten, Stacy placed her rucksack on the floor and
opened the yearbook. Everything seemed normal as she flipped
quickly through the book; just the typical high school
yearbook...
      The page flipped open to the sports section.
     "Oh god..." Stacy sagged up against her locker, suddenly
weak.

               WOULD STACY RICHARDS PLEASE REPORT
                     TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE
                         (the PA system)

     Stacy ignored it, staring at the picture which covered half
a page. It was under the heading "Swim Club", but rather than the
entire team, it just displayed Stacy. She was posed in a
swimsuit; one of the too-small swimsuits Sharon had forced her to
wear during the second photo session. The suit had been soaked,
and her nipples clearly showed through the thin fabric of the
suit as she knelt, knees widely spread, licking a large, pink
dildo and staring seductively at the camera.
      Gary!!
      That bastard. She didn't know how he had managed it, but it
was him alright. Panicking, she began to turn the pages to the
"R" section of the grade twelves. If he had put that picture in
the sports section, what had he...
     It was her picture; and she recognized it. She was dressed
in the tight, pink rubber dress Sharon had produced for the first
photo session, leaning forward, hands pushing up her breasts and
a look of passion - no, lust - on her beautiful face. She looked
like a complete slut.
     Her stunned gaze slipped down to the text below the picture:
'Girl most likely to... do just about anything.' Under that was a
tiny "happy-face" with the sentence 'I fucked Stacy Richards'
beside it. Horrified, the panicking teenager scanned the
remaining pictures on the page. Under the photograph of Terry
Rhymer was three of the "happy-faces"; she had fucked him three
times during the year. The pages of the book flipped through her
fingers, coming to rest in the grade eight section; there were
rows and rows of "happy-faces" under Tim Myers' picture.
     The yearbook slid out of her numb fingers and dropped to the
floor as the full realization of what had happened sunk into her.
During the course of her torment, she had been sustained by one
goal: to keep what was happening secret - to maintain her
position at Greenwood. Now...
      There must be a way. Most of the yearbooks hadn't been given
out yet. If she acted quickly, she could stop the mailout and
maybe even get most if not all of the books recalled.

                WOULD STACY RICHARDS PLEASE REPORT
                    TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE!
                         (the PA system)

     She didn't even hear it.
      Moving as fast as she could, she raced through the
combination on her locker and jerked it open, determined to stow
the rucksack and get to the principal's office as soon as
possible. As she did so, however, a small stack of material -
glossy magazines - slid out onto the hallway floor. Alarmed,
Stacy reached down and picked one up. It was a porn magazine,
entitled CUMSHOT and it had...
     For the second time in as many minutes Stacy felt herself
unable to breath as panic swept through her body. She was on the
cover of the magazine! The full-colour photograph featured a
sharp close-up of her face as she lapped hungrily at a string of
cum running from her mouth to a large cock. Neil's cock, she
realized, recognizing the scene.
     "What's this?"
     It was another student - Stephanie Bowers; Stacy had stolen
her boyfriend in grade ten. The girl bent over to pick up a
magazine: YOUNG THINGS.
      "Give me that," Stacy yelled, inadvertently attracting the
attention of a number of other nearby students. She grabbed the

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