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Slaves/stacy
Parker (c) 1993
Stacy's Senior Year
WARNING: This story contains blackmail, non-consensual
sex, D, humiliation and all that sort of good stuff
(although, not in every instalment). This story is not
politically correct! If you do not enjoy reading about
this sort of thing, STOP NOW (before it is too late).
- This is the first part of a ten part series (I hope).
Feel free to send the story where you will, but use some common sense.
Neil was the one to notice it: Stacy Richards cheating on an
examination! He nudged his friend Gary and pointed towards the
front of the class.
"Check it out," he whispered.
Gary saw, but couldn't believe what he was seeing. Stacy
Richards - the ice-queen cock tease of the senior class at
Greenwood High - was staring intently at a slip of paper hidden
on her desk under the exam. Just then, Mr.Edgar, the teacher,
coughed quietly and shifted position in his seat at the front of
the class. Stacy quickly pushed the cheat-sheet back under the
exam paper and looked up guiltily, her face flushing a pretty
shade of red. If Mr.Edgar had glanced over at her at that moment
he would certainly have known that something was wrong with her. But why
would he be checking out Stacy Richards, who had been
getting straight A grades ever since she had begun attending
Greenwood High four years ago? Instead, he turned his attention
to Neil French and Gary Syms, who were the class trouble-makers:
Neil with his long, greasy hair and semi-stylish ripped clothes
and Gary with his cynical, cutting sense of geek humour. Sure
enough, they were grinning and whispering together at the back of
the classroom rather than writing the exam.
"French... Syms," he called out, drawing himself laboriously
out of his chair and up to his rather unimpressive full hight,
"Front of the class."
No longer smiling, the two boys got up and walked slowly
forward, the centre of attention, with everyone in the class
looking up at them from their exams. Neil noticed Stacy smirking
at him with her typical, haughty sneer.
Bitch, he thought, we'll see who's laughing in a second.
"Mr.Edgar," he blurted as he reached the front of the room,
"We saw..." He was cut off by Gary elbowing him subtly, but stiffly, in
the side. He drew in a breath to continue speaking, but he was
interrupted by the angry teacher.
"You two have been nothing but trouble since you started
this class in September," Mr.Edgar announced, his full white
moustache quivering with indignation. "I can no longer allow you
to disrupt this class with your infantile jokes and games,
particularly during exams."
Neil started to protest, but was again cut off by Mr.Edgar,
who had worked up a full head of steam.
"You have both failed this examination. You will apologise
to the class for the disruption, and then you will leave." He
glared at the two boys. "Do you understand?"
Both boys nodded a sullen 'yes'.
"Any further problems," the teacher finished his
pronouncement of sentence, "And you will be removed from this
class permanently. Perhaps you will be able to make up the course
in summer school."
Gary didn't react, but Neil looked up in alarm. That was
about the most serious threat a teacher could make, short of
outright expulsion. Bakersville was a beach town in southern
California, and summer was by far the best time of the year,
particularly for the teenagers. Being forced to waste the summer
months inside the stuffy high school while everyone else partied
on the beach was about the worst fate a teenager could suffer.
Apparently cowed, Neil and Gary turned around and stammered
out an embarrassed apology to the class. A few kids giggled -
Neil noted that Stacy was one of them - but most looked away,
uncomfortable at the humiliation of their fellow students. The
two boys then filed out of classroom and into the hallway.
*****
Stacy shrugged her blonde hair off her shoulder and looked
back down at the examination as the class returned to normal.
Thank god those two geeks were gone, she thought, and tried to
put Neil and Gary from her mind. In her world, there were
"people" and there were "geeks", and Neil and Gary definitely
fell into the latter category. She wouldn't even have known their
names except that Neil had spent the better part of the first
term of the previous year following her about, and had even asked
her out on a date. As if! She had refused in as cruel a manner as
she knew how (which was pretty cruel), and had later asked Pete,
her then boyfriend and captain of the football team, to beat Neil
up, just to warn him off. Pete had dutifully administered the
beating, and Neil had backed off. She had soon afterward broken
up with Pete - he had lost his place on the football team that
spring - and had put the entire episode from her mind.
Reluctantly, she turned her attention back to the exam. She
frowned down at the test, as if she could intimidate the answers
off the written page. Questions which had been easy for her a
year ago now seemed impossibly hard. Stacy was quite intelligent,
and had always gotten almost perfect marks at school, but lately
the constant burden of socializing - cheerleading, beachparties,
student council etc. - had left her little time for schoolwork.
As a result, she had found herself approaching the first set of
school exams of her senior year completely unprepared. And if she
did poorly or - unthinkable - failed, she would loose her record
of straight As, and would probably fail to be elected Homecoming
Queen, the goal toward which she had been working for the last
few years. Hence, she had decided to make a few crib notes to get
her through the first round of exams. After that, she told
herself, she would get back on track with the schoolwork.
Looking around to make certain she was unobserved, she
pushed the exam paper upwards to expose the notes she had written
on the cheat-sheet...
*****
Neil smouldered with anger as walked down the hall with
Gary. That had been the perfect chance to get back at that bitch
Stacy, and Gary had blown it for him! Neil's thoughts lingered on
Stacy as he grumbled to himself.
Stacy was one of those unattainable high school princesses
who enjoyed showing herself off, but didn't put out. With her
shoulder-length blonde hair, perfect face (large green eyes, pert
nose and thick,pouty lips), and athlete's body (she was a member
of both the swim team and the track team), she was easily the
most beautiful girl in Greenwood, and every male student's dream.
But dream she remained for most. She moved exclusively in
the highest high school social circles, and only went out with
sports stars and the like. Neil had developed a crush on her
earlier the previous year, and it wasn't until she had sent that
football jerk to beat him up that he got over her. The fact was,
she only noticed guys like Neil (and Gary, for that matter) when
they bothered her, and she had to put them off (or "...out of
their misery..." as Neil had once heard her laughingly remark to
one of her friends).
The two boys left the school by the side entrance and began
to walk across the south parking lot. Finally, Neil could contain
himself no longer.
"Why'd you shut me up in there?" he complained, "I had that
bitch right where I wanted her. I owe her."
Gary just smiled at this, making Neil uncomfortable. Where
Neil was loud and obnoxious, Gary was quiet and strange. Despite
the fact that the two had been friends for a number of years,
Gary was still capable of unnerving his larger friend with his
strange smile and even stranger ideas.
"What's so funny?" Neil asked nervously.
"You're right," Gary answered quietly, "We do have her where
we want her, but not in the way you mean."
Neil was puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"If you had told on her back in the classroom just now,
Edgar might or might not have believed you. Probably not; you
know he doesn't like us. And if not - if Stacy had managed to
hide her cheating - we would have been kicked out of the class
for good, and been stuck in summer school. And even if he had
caught her, at most she would have failed the exam, if that. The
teachers love her. Then she would set her friends on us."
"But..." Neil began.
"You remember Pete."
Neil could only nod glumly in agreement, recalling the
beating he had suffered last year. Stacy had no shortage of
friends on the football team. "So," he said finally, "You said we
had her where we wanted her."
"Yes, I did," Gary agreed.
"How?"
By now, the two boys had reached Gary's car, a large, black
Pontiac. Gary unlocked the doors before answering.
"If she's cheating now on a math test," he explained, "she
must be in trouble with her schoowork. She's always gotten top
marks in math."
"Yeah?" Neil was still confused. "So?"
"So," Gary continued patiently, "It's a pretty safe bet
she'll cheat again. There's an English test coming up next week,
and I don't think a little cheat-sheet will be of much use to
her. You have to have read the material." He started up the car
and began to pull out of the parking space. Neil thought this
over as Gary manouvered the vehicle out of the school parking lot
and onto the road.
"So," he asked finally, "What do we do about it?"
"I'll tell you when we get to Sharon's place," Gary
answered, "We'll need her for what I have in mind."
*****
Sharon was Gary's friend and sometime girlfriend. Neil was
never really sure about their relationship - he knew that they
went out and that they occasionally had sex, but he also knew
that Sharon did the same with at least a couple of other guys.
Gary, however, didn't seem to mind, so Neil had decided to take
things at face value. He had even made something of a pass at
Sharon at a beach party last summer, but had been rebuffed. He
was philosophical about it; Sharon wasn't really his type anyway.
The girl in question appeared in the doorway, answering
their knock. A year younger than the two boys, Sharon was short
and heavy, with large breasts and curly, brown hair. Any
suggestion of cuteness, however, was quickly dispelled by her
hard face and small, piggy (Neil thought) eyes. If there was any
beauty there, it was definitely in the eye of the beholder. She
was smoking a cigarette as she answered the door.
After a quick greeting (and an obligatory "hello" to
Sharon's mother - propped up, as usual, in front of the
television), Sharon led the two boys down to her basement
bedroom, locking the door behind her (Sharon's parents were
"progressive", and felt that she needed her privacy). Neil
accepted a cigarette and flopped down into a chair while pulling
a lighter from his jacket pocket. Gary, who didn't smoke, just
leaned up against the dresser. Sharon lay down on the bed and
propped herself up with a pillow.
"So," she asked, flicking some ash onto the dirty shag
carpet, "What are you guys doing here? I thought you had math
with Edgar until 3:00."
Neil grimaced. "We did," he answered, "Until he kicked us
out."
"What?"
Gary took over the explanation and outlined the sequence of
events that had led to their expulsion from the math class.
Typically, Sharon immediately blamed Stacy.
"That cunt!" she swore angrily, "Cheating on the test and
getting you guys kicked out. She's really asking for it."
"Yes, she is," Gary agreed quietly, "And I think I know how
we can give it to her."
"What do you mean?"
"We know she's cheating on her exams, right?"
Neil and Sharon nodded in agreement.
"I think that it's pretty likely she'll cheat again. I don't
think that she's had to do it before, so she's probably way
behind in her work. The fact that she's cheating - and that we
know she's cheating - gives us a hold on her; a way of
blackmailing her, but we need more."
Neil thought this over for a few moments. "Like what?" he
asked.
"First, we need concrete evidence of the cheating. No one is
going to take our word over Stacy's. That's where you come in,
Sharon. Your dad lets you use his video camera and radio -
microphone. We'll use that to trap her."
"And then what?" Neil was starting to become excited at the
prospect of blackmailing Stacy.
Gary fell silent for a moment, looking at his two friends.
"How much," he asked finally, his voice strained and odd,
"How much do you hate her? I mean really. How much do you want to
see her suffer?"
"Hey man," Neil answered uneasily, "I just want to get back
at her for putting me down last year. I don't want to, like, beat
her up or anything."
"Well, I would," Sharon spat out. "I hate the bitch. Always
flaunting herself, and prancing about like she owns the whole
fucking school. She deserves whatever she gets. I'll do whatever
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
done so well and Neil so poorly on the test, should serve to
protect Neil from expulsion if they were forced to use the
evidence. As well, Gary and Sharon were willing to give Neil an
alibi. At best, it would be Stacy's word against their's, and, if
it came to that, Stacy's word would not be worth much by then.
So, it seemed that everything was in order. All that
remained was to determine the method of delivery...
The small package arrived in the mail at the Richard
household on the Friday almost two weeks after the English exam.
It was addressed to Stacy. When it was opened, a cassette tape
fell out along with a small piece of note paper. She picked it up
and read it: 'SAT. MORNING: 10:00 AM STEWART PARK FOUNTAIN. It
was written in clumsy block letters. Puzzled, she took the tape up to
her room, slipped it into
her walkman, put on the head-phones and hit the play button.
Almost at once, her head was filled with the sound of her own
voice: "I heard you have a copy of next week's English exam. Is
that true?" "Why do you want to know?" That was Neil! What was going on
here? There was a brief hissing, then the tape continued,
relentlessly. Stacy listened in panicked disbelief.
"I want a copy of that exam. I need it for this weekend."
"Stacy, you mean you want a copy of a stolen exam paper so
you can cheat on next Monday's English test." "Yes. I need it to pass
the exam... I'll pay money. How
about $100? Please?"
"Alright, I'll sell you the stolen exam paper for $100. Will
that be all, Stacy, or do you want any more exams? I can probably
get whatever you want."
"That sounds great. I'll buy whatever you can get for the
classes I'm in. $100 a paper."
"It's a deal. Meet me tomorrow after school in the
woodworking shop. It should be deserted on Friday afternoon...
Don't forget the money."
The hissing stopped for a second as the tape fell silent,
but before Stacy hit the stop button, it started up again, this
time with a small humming sound in the background. The fans,
Stacy realised, fighting down panic, the fans in the woodworking
shop. Trembling, she listened as the voices began once again:
"Well," her voice again, "Do you have it?"
"I've got it. One stolen English exam paper for Stacy
Richards. And my money?"
There was a brief moment of silence, and they the sound of
paper being crinkled. "It's all there; you don't have to worry about
that... now
or in the future."
"Fine, It's all yours."
"Thanks."
The voices fell silent, and she heard a door slam: the shop
door slamming when she left the room. The hiss slowly faded as
the recording came to halt.
Hands trembling, she pulled the ear-phones off her head and
sat still in stunned disbelief. This couldn't be happening to
her! Her eyes brimmed over with tears as she picked up the note
and re-read it. The writing blurred through the tears as she
realised that she had no choice: she would have to go to the
meeting tomorrow and see what he wanted.
--
Neil checked his watch for the tenth time in as many
minutes: still five minutes to go before the 10:00 meeting with
Stacy. He paced back and forth on the path before the fountain,
pausing only to push back his stringy, brown hair and survey the
surrounding area for any sign of her approach. The park was
empty, however, with the exception of a few joggers and the odd
person out walking their dog. (At least, Neil thought they were
odd; he hated dogs.) The area around the fountain was pretty much
deserted, which made it perfect for the upcoming meeting. If, of
course, that meeting ever took place. Despite Gary's repeated
assurances, Neil was still not certain that Stacy would show up.
He half-expected to see a police car pull into the parking lot or
something like that. Gary, however, had been sure of their plan.
He argued that for someone like Stacy, social standing and
reputation were all; she wouldn't put either at risk by taking
any chances that the evidence of her cheating would get out.
Sharon had agreed with him, but Neil was not so sure; it wasn't
Sharon's or Gary's ass on the line out here in the park. Still,
he thought, it was worth a try, particularly considering the
potential prize at the end of the day! He checked his watch
again: still a few minutes to go. Neil looked up and scanned the
park - if she didn't appear soon...
There she was: large as life and twice as beautiful! Stacy
was approaching slowly along the jogging path which led into the
park from the beach; she must have parked her car in the beach
parking lot, where it was much less likely to be seen. That made
sense. As far as Neil could tell, she was alone, which eased his
anxiety considerably. Maybe this would work after all. He stopped
pacing and watched as she walked towards him.
As she drew closer, he saw that her eyes were red and puffy,
as though she had been recently crying, or hadn't slept much.
Maybe both. She looked scared. If anything, though, Neil thought
it made her even more gorgeous. This is really going to work,
Neil thought to himself, his heart picking up speed.
Finally, she reached the circular path before the fountain
and, after hesitating briefly, she walked up to him.
"Stacy," he greeted her...
*****
Stacy had indeed spent an almost sleepless night, tossing
and turning in anticipation of what would happen the next
morning. When she finally did get up, she was almost exhausted
with apprehension. All she could think about was what had
happened to the last person who had been caught with a stolen
exam paper. The expulsion from school... the criminal charges...
the public exposure! That was the worst. The thought of the
humiliation made her tremble as she quickly got ready to leave
for her encounter with the person who sent the note. A brief
excuse to her parents at breakfast, and she was out the door and
on her way.
Stacy was not surprised to see Neil standing at the fountain
as she entered the park. The blonde teenager had quickly realized
last night that the note must have come from him. He was the only
person who knew about her cheating, and he was the only person
who could have taped their meeting. The question was: what did he
want from her to keep quiet about it? The answer, unfortunately, was not
difficult to figure out. She could see the way he watched
her as she approached the fountain. The way his eyes played over
the curves on her body, undressing her. Stacy shuddered. She did
not find him attractive - he was tall and painfully thin, with
long greasy hair and an unpleasant complexion - but had made up
her mind the previous night that she would do anything - almost
anything - to get the tape back, including sleeping with him.
Anything to keep him quiet. She was afraid, however, that this
was exactly what she was going to have to do.
"Stacy," he greeted her as she approached. He was smirking.
"I thought it would be you," she spat out, unable to hide
the anger and hatred in her voice. "What do you want?"
"Why, Stacy," he feigned surprise and hurt, "is that any way
to greet your partner in crime? You seemed happy enough to see me
a couple of weeks ago... when you needed the exam paper." The
tall teenager sat himself down on a bench and patted the space
next to him, gesturing for her to take a seat next to him. "Fuck you,"
she blurted out. "I want that tape." She
couldn't believe he had the nerve to treat her like this. She
fought down the urge to slap that obnoxious smirk off his ugly
face; there was time for that later.
Neil just smiled slightly and again patted the place next to
him on the bench. "I don't think that that's a very helpful
attitude," he said mildly. "Why don't you just sit yourself down
right here, and we'll have a little chat about it." She just stared at
him angrily. "After all," he continued, "it wouldn't do to be seen
arguing in public. Someone might ask why."
Torn between anger and fear, Stacy hesitated for a few
moments more, but finally gave in and sat down beside him. She
tensed up as he put his right arm around her shoulder, but didn't
pull away. She hoped no one could see them together; it would be
impossible to explain this to her friends at school.
"That's better," he said smoothly. "Now we can talk."
She turned slightly towards him, ignoring the condescending
tone of his voice. Anger had won out over the fear, if only
briefly. "You know what I want, you fucker. You tricked me. I
want that tape back, and I want you to shut your fucking mouth
about the whole thing, you asshole..." She was stunned into a shocked
silence as he brought his
left hand around and slapped her across the face. It wasn't
particularly hard, but it was surprising and humiliating. She
brought her hand up to her stinging cheek and started to pull
away, but Neil held her close. Tears welled up in her eyes.
"First thing, Stace," he told her quietly. "Don't swear at
me, or even in my presence. It makes you sound cheap. Do you
understand?"
Dumbly, she nodded her head as the tears began to flow down
her cheeks. The humiliation at being talked to like this was even
worse than being slapped. What was he doing to her?
When he saw her nod, he relaxed his hold, but still kept his
arm around her. The cheek he had slapped was starting to turn
red, so he leaned forward and kissed it. Stacy tensed and started
to tremble, but she didn't pull away. "There, there," he said
soothingly, as he brought his hand up to wipe the tears off her
cheeks, "Is that better?"
Trembling, she nodded.
"Fine," Neil leaned back on the bench. "Now we can talk. As
you know, I have evidence that could fuck you up at Greenwood. I
don't want to use it like that, but I will if I have to."
"If you give out that tape," she argued, regaining some
control (but still not pulling away from his encircling arm),
"you'll be expelled too. I'll let everyone know who sold me the
exam. We'd go down together." She had thought of that argument
last night, while tossing and turning in bed.
Neil just shrugged. "You can try," he answered. "But I don't
know if anyone will believe you. My voice can't be recognised on
the tape and I have friends who will be willing to swear that I
was somewhere else that Friday. Besides, I almost failed the
test; who'll believe I had the questions ahead of time?" He fell
silent for a moment and looked at her. "And even if I do get
expelled, it's no big deal; people expect it of me. It's your
reputation that matters."
He was right. Stacy began to cry again, and was forced to
suffer the humiliation of Neil again brushing the tears from her
cheeks. "S-so, what do you want, then?" She was defeated. She
would give him what he wanted.
"You," came the expected answer. "For just one night.
Tomorrow night. I want you to make love with me and act as though
you like it. After, I'll give you the only copy I have of the
tape."
Stacy began to tremble again as he said this, but she was
not particularly shocked. Here, she was on familiar ground; most
of the boys at school wanted the same thing of her, and she was
used to dealing with their desires. As well, she had expected
something like this, and it could have been a hell of a lot
worse. She didn't find Neil attractive, and almost gagged at the
thought of having sex with him, but she was certainly not a
virgin. And one night wasn't forever. It would be unpleasant, but
it would be over with quickly, and she would never have to talk
to him again. And, once she had the tape... Stacy was careful, however,
not to let her thoughts show.
No need to let this asshole know that she was not as scared as
she seemed. "And you'll give me the tape?" she asked quietly.
"Sure."
"How do I know that you won't keep a copy of it and
blackmail me again?"
"You don't," came the simple answer. "But I swear on my
mother's grave that I will not use the tape to blackmail you
again." She looked doubtful, but he just shrugged. "That's the
best I can do."
"Just one night?" Neil nodded.
"And it'll be a secret, right? You won't tell anybody?" This
was crucial. If anyone ever found out that she had slept with
Neil French, whatever the reason, she would be ruined at school.
It would be even worse than being caught cheating.
Once again, Neil nodded. "No one will have to know," he told
her.
Stacy fell silent for a few moments and then nodded her
agreement. She had stopped trembling and seemed thoughtful. "OK,"
she agreed, finally, "I'll do it. Just one night. And no one
knows."
"Right." Neil could barely keep himself from laughing out
loud. If only she knew what they had planned for her! "Show up at
my place tomorrow night at 7:00. Can you find it?"
"I have a student directory," she answered, "I'll find it."
She pulled away to get up and leave, but Neil held her close.
"Don't I get a goodbye kiss?" he asked her. "To keep me
until tomorrow?"
Fighting down an urge to vomit, she allowed herself to be
pulled toward him and pressed her lips to his. Her hands hanging
limply at her side, she tried to keep her mouth shut, but his
tongue was insistent, and was soon exploring the inside of her
unwilling mouth. His breath smelled like smoke and she almost
gagged. "Just one night," she told herself, as he drew the kiss out
until it was more like necking than a single kiss.
Finally, he released her. Gasping, she staggered to her feet
and hurried off.
"Until tomorrow then," he called after her.
*****
Sharon squeezed herself into the back of closet, trying as
best she could to make herself comfortable in the pile of
clothing Neil had laid out for her. From where she sat, she had
an unobstructed 3/4 view from the head of Neil's bed. She peered
through the viewfinder of her father's video camera. "Looks
good," she reported to Gary, as he watched from where he sat on
the side of the bed. "As long as the lights stay on, I should
have no trouble with the filming. It's kind of tight in here,
though."
Gary smirked at her. "You should be getting used to it by
now," he joked. "That cupboard a couple of weeks ago was no
bigger."
Sharon laughed in agreement. What with the filming in the
Woodwork Shop, and now in Neil's bedroom, she was becoming
something of an expert in this sort of thing. Perhaps, she
reflected, she should look into becoming a private detective.
There must be a lot of money in doing this sort of thing for
divorce cases in the like. The 17 year-old girl settled back against the
closet wall as
her friend and sometime boyfriend adjusted the tripod and camera
in front of her to give her a little more room. She was looking
forward to the upcoming events, although she still found it hard
to believe that Stacy would show up and go through with it.
Imagine... the Ice Queen agreeing to fuck Neil! (Imagine anyone
agreeing to fuck Neil.) And she was there to get it all on tape!
Between the camera she was running, and the second video camera
set up on the bookshelf beside Neil's bed, they should be able to
catch the whole event for posterity. And after that, Gary had
plans for Stacy that made Sharon wet and shivery just thinking
about them. She hated Stacy, and all of the stuck up cunts like
her at school. The chance to fuck one of them over was
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...
Suddenly, he leaned back and raised his legs. Surprised, she
pulled her mouth off his cock and looked up from where she was
kneeling, her chin glistening with spittle and pre-come. She
quickly saw what he wanted, and co-operated by pulling off his
pants. He was naked underneath, and his cock stuck straight up as
he leaned back on the bed and swung his legs around so he was
again lying lengthwise. "Climb on," he ordered. Panting, and out of
breath from
giving head, Stacy scrambled onto the bed and straddled his naked
body, her knees propped up on each side of his thighs. Holding
this position, she panted and trembled, waiting for his next
order. It wasn't long in coming.
He reached forward and played with her breasts for a moment,
but then dropped his hands to her crotch, feeling her cunt lips.
Stacy's hands twitched with the urge to push his hands away, but
they remained at her sides. He smirked at her. "Wet," he
pronounced. "You're really into this." Stacy fought back tears,
and tried to maintain a seductive leer. This wasn't her kneeling
naked over Neil French; it was someone else. Neil relaxed back on
his pillow. "I like them a little wetter, though. Let's see if
you can't make yourself a little more ready."
Grasping his meaning, Stacy moved her hands back to her
crotch area and began to play with herself. Closing her eyes, she
was almost able to imagine that she was back in her own room, and
none of this was happening. She moaned involuntarily, as Neil
began to play with her breasts, kneading them roughly. Her
fingers were doing their work, though, and her crotch was soon
damp with desire.
Finally, Neil had seen enough. Pushing her hands away, he
positioned his cock directly underneath her pussy and looked up
at her expectantly. Stacy leaned forward on her hands, so that
her breasts hung directly downwards, and slowly slid Neil's cock
into her now-wet pussy. It went in easily, despite that fact that
she was very tight. Eventually, his cock was entirely swallowed
as she knelt on top of him.
"Get moving," he ordered her hoarsely.
Completely defeated, Stacy began to move up and down, riding
his cock in and out of her pussy. Despite herself, she began to
moan and pant with desire. Neil leaned up and began to bite and
lick her breasts as his hands played over her straining thighs.
Stacy gasped. It was painful, but after a while, the pain seemed
to meld into pleasure, and a warmth radiated out of her pussy to
envelope her entire body. The detached part of her mind wailed in
horror as her body abandoned itself entirely to the experience. She was
now making soft moaning sounds in time with her
rhythmic self-impalement on Neil's cock. Gradually, her moaning
became louder and louder as the pace increased and she approached
climax. Neil, beneath her, began moving his hips in time with
her, all the while mauling and biting her small, firm tits as
they dangled invitingly in front of his face.
"Oh... oh... oh... oh..." Her moans got louder and louder
until she was almost screaming. Her eyes were screwed shut and
her mouth hung open, slack with lust. "Oh... oh... OH... OH...
Ahhh..."
Finally, she came with a loud scream of pleasure, her body
shaking and trembling. That was all for Neil; he could hold back
no longer. Just as her orgasm ended, he thrust forward with his
hips, and pulled her down, crushing her mauled breasts against
his sweaty chest and forcing his tongue into her gasping mouth,
his cock pumping sperm into her warm, damp pussy. The two teenagers fell
limp, their spent, sweaty bodies
stuck together. A few seconds later, Stacy roused herself with a
groan and pushed herself off her unwanted companion. His prick
slid limply out of her pussy as she clambered off the bed,
leaving a thin trail of sperm along the inside of her thigh.
Stacy bit back a scream as she caught sight of herself in
the bathroom mirror. Her blonde hair was plastered back from her
sweaty face, leaving fully revealed her wide, frightened eyes and
nostrils which flared as she gasped for breath. Drool glistened
on her cheeks and mouth where Neil had slobbered on her when he
came. Her sleek body was covered by a fine sheen of sweat and her
tits shone red and purple where Neil had mauled and bit them.
Sperm trickled out of her sopping cunt, joining the thin, white
trail laid down on her leg by his cock when she had pulled away. A thin
wail rose from her throat as she stared at her
reflection. Both the dizziness and the lust which had possessed
her earlier had left as though burnt away by the intensity of her
orgasm, leaving her clear-headed and terrified. How had she let
this happen? Panting and choking, Stacy stumbled into the
bathroom, fell to her knees and threw up violently into the
toilet. Her retching was interrupted by the impact of clothing
being thrown into the bathroom and hitting her back.
It was Neil. "When you're done in there," he called out to
her heaving rear, "Get dressed and get out." He had pulled his
trousers on and was leaving the bedroom.
Stacy continued retching for a few moments before climbing
to her feet. Unsteadily, still coughing and gasping, she pulled
her clothes on over her sticky, abused body. Dressed, she left
the bathroom to find Neil sitting on the couch, smoking a
cigarette. He ignored her for a moment and then looked up, as if
surprised that she were still there. "Well? I thought I told you
to leave."
Stacy looked down. "T-the tape," she mumbled. "You said -
you p-promised to give it to me."
Grinning, Neil reached into a pocket and pulled out a
cassette tape. "Fair enough," he agreed, tossing it to her. She
was unprepared, and it bounced off her chest and slid under the
bed. Neil laughed as she got down on her hands and knees to
retrieve it. The tape securely in her possession, Stacy stood up and
moved towards the door, her only thought to get out of there as
soon as possible.
"Haven't you forgotten something?" She turned to face him. "What?"
The anger was back now,
making it easier to deal with his leering face.
"To say thank you," Neil told her.
"Fuck you," she muttered and stormed out of the room. Behind
her, Neil laughed.
--
"We're going to play a game," Gary said, his voice light and
mocking. He had shoved his hands into his pockets, and was
staring off into space. "You can win it; it will have rules and
an object. If you do win, we will give you all copies of the
video tape and pictures. If you lose..."
Stacy sat in stunned silence. The whole world - her world -
had changed dramatically in the last half hour. Nothing was the
same. That morning, she had woken up an intelligent, free young
woman. No clouds on the horizon; nothing to foreshadow the
impending danger. It had been almost a week since she had been
forced to have sex with Neil, and she was finally beginning to
feel clean again. She had passed all of the recent tests at
school, and was still a part of the most influential, exclusive
group of students at Greenwood. Moreover, Neil seemed to have
kept his mouth shut, both about her cheating on the English test
and the disgusting exercise she had been forced into at his
apartment, and he was now safely relegated back to the periphery
of her privileged existence. Stacy had even shelved her plans for
getting him thrashed by one of her friends on the football team.
The whole incident was receding into the past, and she was
unaffected. Still one of the best and the brightest; one of the
winners.
Then came the note in her locker. This note was handwritten,
not in block letters like the previous one, as if the need for
disguise no longer existed. It simply ordered her to show up at
Neil's apartment at 1:00 PM the next day: Saturday, exactly a
week after her last visit. Her stomach had gone cold and her hand
trembled as she read the note. Was he going for a repeat
performance? If he was, that little bastard...
Just then, Ashley and some friends happened by her locker,
and she quickly stuffed the note into her jacket pocket. It was
not the sort of thing she wanted her friends to know about;
particularly Ashley... She greeted them with a smile.
"The game will last for the rest of the school year." Gary
continued speaking. "If you win before the last day of classes,
July 2, we will return all of the material to you, and never
bother you again."
Stacy heard Gary's voice speaking the words, but it was as
if he was speaking at her from a long distance away. She
understood him, but didn't feel any connection with what he was
saying. Was he even speaking to her? She knew that what he was
saying was important, but she was unable to focus on his voice.
Her mind continued to drift...
She had arrived that Saturday afternoon prepared for the
worst, but what had happened turned out to be much more terrible
than what she had expected; than she could have expected.
Neil wasn't alone when she had arrived. Gary, his creepy
friend, was there with him, as was Sharon, Gary's cow of a
girlfriend. Gary had just looked at her as she entered Neil's
bedroom, his eyes huge and expressionless through the thick,
magnifying lens of his glasses. He was sitting on the couch
beside Sharon, who had giggled obnoxiously when Stacy had entered
the room, and flicked ashes from her cigarette onto the floor.
The ashes sunk into the thick shag carpet and were lost from
sight. The room seemed a lot darker than Stacy remembered it.
"What's going on? Why are they here?" Stacy turned as if to
leave, but Neil, behind her, had already closed the door. "What
are you doing?" Stacy was beginning to panic. Neil didn't answer;
he just smirked at her as he stood in front of the door.
"We have something to show you," came a voice from behind
her. It was Gary. "I think you'll find it interesting." He stood
up and pointed to the space on the couch beside his chubby
girlfriend. "Have a seat," he invited.
"I don't think so," Stacy answered angrily, pulling herself
together a bit. She didn't have to take this. "I'll stand, if you
don't mind." Sarcasm.
Gary just smiled at her and repeated his gesture. "I think
it would be better if you sat for this," he told her, his voice
mild. "Besides, the couch has the best view of the TV." Stacy
noticed for the first time a TV and video machine set up opposite
the couch; they hadn't been there last week. "We wouldn't want
you to miss anything," Gary continued. Stacy giggled again.
Overcome by a vague feeling of dread, Stacy was forced to
fight down an impulse to flee; not that it would have done any
good with Neil standing in front of the door. Sharon sat up and
crushed out her half finished cigarette in the ashtray. "C'mon,
babe," she called, patting the seat beside her. "I don't bite."
Stacy had looked around at the three of them - Neil smirking
by the door, Sharon leaning back on the couch with her arms
stretched out, and Gary looking at her with his queer, empty eyes
- and then began walking slowly towards the couch. She realized
that she had no choice in the matter, and there was no use in
protesting further. A small part of her mind began to understand
what might be on the tape, and started wailing uselessly inside
her head, but she was able to repress this as she sat back on the
couch. 'Don't panic' she told herself.
Sharon immediately slipped her pudgy arm around Stacy's
shoulder and squeezed. "That's more like it," she laughed. "Just
relax and enjoy the show. You're among friends." Neil chuckled as
he moved away from the door. Stacy tensed - she hated this bitch
- but did not pull away. Neil flipped off the lights as Gary
moved forward to turn on the TV and start the video.
"If you lose," Gary continued, "well... I can't really say;
we haven't thought that far ahead. I must say, though, I really
don't expect you to lose; I have every confidence that you will
meet the conditions for winning."
Somehow, the small part of Stacy's mind which was still
listening to his voice was not much comforted by this expression
of confidence. Her mind continued to drift...
The tape! That awful tape... They had made her watch the
entire thing through from beginning to end, even though she had
tried to jump up out of the couch before the first thirty seconds
were up. Sharon had kept her seated, her arm surprisingly strong.
Stacy had even tried to keep her eyes shut, but was unable to
tear her gaze away from the scene which played itself out
obscenely on the TV screen in front of her.
The sound started first, while the screen remained blank.
"Please," came the voice over the TV speaker - HER VOICE!
"Please let me fuck you. I want to fuck you." The picture faded
up, with her - Stacy - clearly visible in the centre of the room,
looking over at some unidentifiable person on the bed. "Please,"
she repeated. "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?"
It was at this point that Stacy tried to jump up off the
couch, but Sharon had been expecting it, and her encircling arm
held the panicking girl down. Gary moved over as if to help his
girlfriend, but stopped as he saw that no help was needed: Stacy
went limp and relaxed back into the couch, her eyes wide as she
stared at the TV screen.
She was watching herself slowly strip off her own clothes.
First the tee-shirt... then the bra (Stacy began to cry on the
couch as her TV image fondled and rubbed its breasts; her hand
fluttered up to her face, as if to shield her eyes, but it
dropped back down to her lap when Gary frowned at her)... then
the pants. Finally, she was naked on the screen.
"Please." The girl on the screen (Stacy could no longer
believe it was herself saying and doing those things; she started
thinking of her image on the screen as someone else) seemed to be
almost panting in lust. "Please fuck me. In need it so bad.
Please fuck me." The naked girl ran her hands over her erect
nipples. "Please... I want it now..."
"Come here, bitch!" The figure on the bed, only visible in
the corner of the picture, spoke (Stacy knew it was Neil, but her
mind refused to put a name to him - surely what was happening on
the screen had nothing to do with her). The naked girl responded
quickly; breasts bobbing, she ran over and kneeled at the side of
the bed. After remaining in this position for a few moments, the
girl reached for the man's crotch and fumbled with the zipper.
"Oh yes," she breathed. "Please let me have your cock."
The viewpoint shifted suddenly, to a shot taken above and
behind the man lying on the bed. (A second camera, Stacy
realized; there had been two cameras.) From the new point of
view, the girl's actions between the man's legs could be seen
clearly. First, she handled the cock with her fingers; then she
kissed it, long slow kisses with lots of tongue; finally she
enveloped it completely within her mouth. The girl's head bobbed
up and down and she made loud slobbering sounds as she worked on
the cock, sucking and licking. The man reached down in front of
her and began to play with her nipples, which were plainly very
hard. Finally, he leaned back and pushed her away. She quickly
pulled his jeans off and, after he lay back on the bed, climbed
on top of him, straddling his naked thighs.
The camera switched back to original point of view, as the
girl began to play with herself while kneeling on the bed. It
zoomed in and panned slowly down her body, from her slack,
lust-glazed face, down across her panting chest and, finally,
down to her pussy, where her fingers worked frantically. She was
visibly wet. Then it slowly pulled back, revealing her entire
body, just as she leaned forward and impaled herself on the man's
stiff cock. Slowly, she moved her hips down until the cock was
stuffed fully into her pussy. Then, moaning slightly, she began
to grind her hips up and down, fucking herself silly as the man
played with her bobbing breasts.
Once more, the camera zoomed in, and played down her sweaty
body, perfectly capturing each detail on video-tape. The girl's
excitement began to increase as her moans became cries and then
threatened to become screams. The camera pulled back just as she
hit the crest of her orgasm, and held the shot as the man pulled
the girl down to his chest and climaxed himself. The picture
slowly faded on this shot, with the girl collapsed sweatily on
top of the man, panting and gasping for breath.
"Anyhow," Gary was still speaking, "we won't worry about
that for now. The important thing is to set out the rules of our
little game and get started. The details can be worked out
later." Stacy just stared across the room at the now-dark screen,
in a daze. Gary, who had begun pacing the room during his little
speech, came to a halt beside the TV. He looked down at her. "In
order to win the game," he said mildly, "you are going to have to
fuck fifty different guys at school before the end of the school
year. That's all." Finally, his words began to register on the
stunned teenager. Had he said "fifty guys"? Fuck fifty guys?
"Nooo," Stacy cried, leaping suddenly off the couch. It was
too much! Sharon grabbed after her, but the pudgy girl was too
slow. In a split second, Stacy was on Gary, swinging wildly with
both hands while swearing and cursing at him. One of her swings
caught him across the face, sending his glasses sailing across
the room. Before Stacy could feel any satisfaction, however, she
was grabbed from behind and pulled away. Neil had run up and
wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pinning her arms to her
sides.
"You bastard! You fucker! You asshole!" Stacy spat and
cried, struggling frantically as Neil dragged her back, but it
was no use. She was thrown back onto the couch, and Sharon once
again held her down. This time, Neil also stood beside the couch,
ready for any further trouble. Stacy brought her hands up to her
face and began to cry.
Gary walked over and picked up his glasses. After examining
them to make certain they were not damaged, he slipped them back
on his face and looked across at Stacy. "That's fifty-five, now,"
he said mildly.
Stacy just stared at him with tear filled eyes. "You're
crazy," she sobbed. "I won't do anything like that. I can't...
you can't make me."
"Let me tell you the alternatives," Gary answered, resuming
his earlier pacing. "If you refuse, we will send copies of that
tape to every guy at school. We will post the still pictures -
you haven't seen them yet, but I can tell you that they are every
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.
--
NUMBER TWO:
The blue Plymouth Valiant drove steadily through the mostly
deserted night streets of Bakersville, its headlights cutting a
swath through the surrounding darkness. Inside, Barry Packard
could barely believe his luck. He snuck a glance to his right,
trying not to be too obvious about it. Sitting beside him, in the
passenger seat, was - unbelievably - Stacy Richards, easily the
most beautiful girl in school (in Barry's opinion). She sat
quietly, staring straight ahead through the front window as the
car rolled along, her perfect features lit intermittently by the
passing street lights. She had seemed a little quiet and nervous
the entire evening, leading Barry to worry that she was bored or
unhappy with him - Barry was neither confident nor particularly
successful with girls - but when he had apologised and offered
to take her home, she had insisted that she was having a good
time, and didn't want to go home.
In fact, it had been her idea that they head down to the
beach. THE BEACH! That was the prime "make-out" spot for the
teenagers of Bakersville. On any given night, there would usually
be at least a handful of cars parked alongside the long dirt road
which traced the coastline to the south of the town. Barry had
never dreamed that one day he would be taking Stacy Richards
there (actually, he had "dreamed" about it several times; he had
just never imagined that it would really happen).
Barry steered the car off the paved section of the street
and onto the bumpier dirt road which ran alongside the beach. In
reality, Barry had never expected that he would ever go on a date
with Stacy. Her kind was usually reserved for the star of the
football team, or some other equivalent sports hero, and even
then only for the duration of his fame. Barry, on the other hand,
was a second-string lineman, only put into the game when the
result was no longer in doubt. In fact, he really didn't even
like football. He was certainly not particularly ugly or
unpopular, but girls like Stacy were usually so far above his
particular level in the school social strata that he could only
dream of going out with her. It had been a matter of pride with
Barry that he had gathered the nerve to ask her out last summer,
and although she had turned him down at the time, she had been
less cruel about it than she could have been. Still, he had been
more than a little surprised when Stacy had called him up last
week and suggested a Saturday-night date.
He had even half-expected that it would all turn out to be
some kind of a joke, but when he had arrived at her house to pick
her up, she had indeed been waiting for him, a vision of beauty
in her short skirt and light blouse. She hadn't seemed overly
friendly or talkative, but Barry didn't know enough about her to
know whether or not this was her usual behaviour. Still, the
movie and dinner had gone off OK, and, of course, it had been her
suggestion that they drive down to the beach afterwards. Even as
he drove along the beach road, Barry still couldn't believe it.
His cock bulged pleasurably in his pants as he steered the car
around a bend in the road.
"How about here?" he asked, trying, but not quite
succeeding, to sound casual. His voice was hoarse and dry. He had
picked a fairly popular spot about half a mile along the road;
there was another car parked a couple of hundred yards away.
Stacy shook her head, her blonde hair shimmering in the
starlight. "Further along," she said quietly.
Barry shrugged and drove the car further along the road,
passing through and then leaving behind all of the more popular
and well-used spots. The road was almost deserted, which was
unusual for a Saturday night, but the weather had been turning a
little cold lately. In fact, Barry had seen Stacy shivering a
little earlier while they had been walking out of the restaurant.
He had noted that she was dressed quite lightly for November.
Even this far south, the weather began to cool down by this time
of the year.
Twenty minutes later, Barry had parked the car in a suitably
secluded spot; there had been no one else on the road for the
last three miles. The night fell briefly silent as the car engine
was shut off, but the sound of the breakers crashing against the
shoreline quickly became apparent as the two teenagers sat for a
few moments in awkward silence. Barry was too nervous to start
anything, and Stacy just sat there, staring out over the dark,
black water.
Barry could take it no longer. "Well..." He started to say
something, but was interrupted by the feel of Stacy's hand
against his. His throat constricted and his heart skipped a beat
as she slid across the seat and wrapped her arm over his
shoulder. She put her hand on his face and turned it towards her.
She was so beautiful in the starlight!
"K-kiss me," she whispered, her voice shaking. She sounded
curiously reluctant, almost frightened. Barry, however, didn't
notice and probably wouldn't have cared if he had noticed. This
was a dream come true. He pulled her slim body towards himself on
the car seat and crushed his mouth to hers. After a brief
hesitation, her lips parted, allowing him to slip his tongue into
her waiting mouth. She wasn't kissing him back, though; she
merely accepted his advances passively as she sat beside him on
the car seat. Barry, sensing her reticence, pulled away,
breaking the kiss.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, short of breath. Stacy bit
her lower lip before answering. In the light, it looked to Barry
as if she was about to cry, but she just shook her head.
Satisfied, Barry leaned forward again. This time, she
participated, crushing her lips against his and moving her tongue
around in response to his advances. Soon, the two teenagers were
necking vigorously in the front seat of the car as the windows
began to steam up.
A few moments later, Barry felt Stacy touch his hand and
then guide it slowly to her breasts. He responded by squeezing
and fondling them through the thin fabric of her blouse. Barry
could barely believe what was happening! Daringly, he pulled open
the buttons on her blouse; a couple of buttons broke free and
fell to the seat, but Barry didn't notice. Stacy didn't react. He
slipped his hand in and under her bra, cupping her breast. He
half-expected her to put a halt to it, but she just continued
kissing him. Gaining confidence, he reached around with his other
hand and unclipped the back of the bra. It fell away under her
unbuttoned blouse, leaving her breasts almost fully exposed to
his hands and eyes. Stacy tensed, but did not object or pull
away.
Instead, she reached down and ran her fingers along the now-
conspicuous bulge in his jeans. Barry gasped; could this really
be happening? He pulled b
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