"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…
"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 nineteen 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.