As was the case with the session at BCN, she was not sure how she felt about this. On one hand, she was being forced to do horribly degrading things and it was as if her own body was betraying her by allowing her to respond sexually. What kind of girl - what kind of a slut - would enjoy the kind of obscene activity which had occurred at BCN? On the other hand, it looked very much like she had very little choice in the matter. She was trapped, and would have to fuck countless guys in the next few months. Given that this was going to happen anyway, wouldn’t it be better to get at least some enjoyment out of it? If nothing else, she could do without the constant pain of her pussy being rubbed raw as a result of her being dry at the wrong time.
What she needed was some way to control the excitement. Some way to allow her to do what she had to do with a minimum of pain, but which would allow her to control herself so that her surrender would not be complete. Some way to…
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was after 3:15; class was over. She patted down her green tweed dress and shook her blonde hair, unconsciously adjusting her appearance. That must be…
It was. The door swung open to reveal a grinning Tim, followed closely by Dennis. Stacy groaned, but gestured for them to enter the office for their weekly session.
There must be some better way to deal with this!
Ashley Peters stood, giggling, in a cluster of friends in a doorway near the water fountain. The girls were pulling a nasty practical joke, and were waiting for the victim to arrive. Even among this group, basically the most popular (ie. beautiful) girls at Greenwood, Ashley stood out as something special. She was taller than any of the other girls, but still well-rounded in all of the important places, particularly her breasts. Indeed, the only other girl at school that was in her league was Stacy Richards, but while Stacy was small and perfectly proportioned, Ashley was big-boned and extremely well endowed, particularly for an eighteen year-old. Where Stacy had a finely chiselled face and high cheek bones, Ashley’s face was wide and generous, with thick, pouty lips and wide brown eyes. Where Stacy had shoulder length blonde hair, Ashley was a brunette, with a thick, reddish-brown mane of hair that fell halfway down her back. In short, Stacy’s was a hard, athletic beauty, while Ashley was softer and more luxurious: equally beautiful, but in an entirely different manner.
The two girls were, of course, rivals, but only in a relaxed, friendly way. There was simply no need for them to compete, for boys or otherwise. The only real point of contention was the title of Homecoming Queen, and Ashley had - more or less - conceded it to Stacy the previous year. Stacy’s school activities, from cheerleading to the track and swim team to supervising the grade eight "Rec" class, made her almost certain to take the title instead of Ashley, whose list of school activities was somewhat shorter (or, in truth, non-existent). Life was too short, she figured. So, the two girls ruled over their little clique in a co-operative fashion, acknowledging the other’s attributes without conceding superiority.
Ashley noticed Stacy coming out of a doorway at the other end of the hall, followed by a couple of grade eight jerks. She looked a little dishevelled, but Ashley put it down to the activity of the "Rec" class.
"Stacy," Ashley called after her, eager to have her share in the joke, but Stacy didn’t seem to hear, and moved down the hall away from the group. The two boys followed close behind. Ashley narrowed her eyes as she watched her friend turn a corner and disappear from view. Stacy had been acting a little strange lately. She wondered if…
"She’s coming!"
Stephanie, who had been watching around the corner, whispered the warning and stepped back, out of sight. Ashley dropped Stacy from her mind and joined the group as they watched expectantly.
They didn’t have long to wait. Karen Williamson walked, unsuspecting, around the corner and up to her locker. The heavy, dark-haired girl didn’t notice Ashley’s group as they watched from the doorway. The trap was sprung! As she pulled the locker door open, hundreds of sheets of paper slid out and onto the floor in front of, and around, the locker. Each sheet had been carefully torn from various Playboy and other,similar, magazines, depicting beautiful women in some stage of undress. Karen watched, stunned, as more and more paper fell out of her locker. Ashley and her group could contain themselves no longer, and finally broke out into raucous laughter as more and more people in the hallway stopped and stared. As well as putting the loose sheets in the locker, they had pasted up a number of pictures on the door and walls of Karen’s locker. The people in the hallway began to laugh as Karen turned red, and then began to cry with embarrassment.
Satisfied with the damage, Ashley led her group away from the scene of their victory as more and more people joined the crowd of students laughing at and taunting their unfortunate victim as she crawled around on her hands and knees trying to recover the pictures.
If they had stayed a little longer, they might have noticed Sharon Stevens, who had watched the whole incident develop, walk up to the humiliated Karen and start talking to her in a hushed voice.
Karen quickly stopped crying and began to listen intently.
Part Seven
Karen ran her fingers through her curly brown hair and looked around the bedroom, feeling useless and out of place with nothing to do. Neil and Gary were busily removing a shelf from the second, smaller closet while Sharon wandered about the room with a light meter, alternately taking readings and making adjustments on the video camera set up on a tripod in the main closet (no need to remove any shelves there). Even Stacy was hard at work, albeit reluctantly; she was taking, trip by trip, the small mountain of clothing which had previously filled the smaller closet and carrying it to a different room. She was quiet and sullen, but she did what she was told.
It was all so unbelievable! Even after Sharon had told her everything - even after they had showed her all of those pictures - Karen still found it hard to credit the story. Stacy, the Princess of Greenwood, the perfect Ice-Queen Bitch, being forced to fuck dozens of different guys at school in order to keep secret the fact that she was cheating on exams! If Karen had read it in a story (and she had read a few stories of this type), she would still have found it difficult to swallow. Really, though, it had been the pictures that had finally convinced her. After Sharon had talked to her that day in school when Ashley and her friends had stuffed Karen’s locker with those magazine pictures, Gary had shown her the set of photographs taken earlier in the week at a downtown studio. There was no way that Stacy would do something like that willingly, particularly the last two outfits. The sight of Stacy in (and then out of) the black leather mini-skirt and, later, in the pink latex dress had left Karen damp with excitement, despite the fact that Stacy wasn’t her type. No, not her type at all. Karen preferred larger girls; particularly brunettes. Girls like Ashley.
When they had arrived at Stacy’s house that Saturday morning, the week after New Year’s, Karen had been expecting Stacy to slam the door in their faces. Even after all the proof she had been shown, she had still expected that. It hadn’t happened, though. Stacy had opened the door and let them in without a word. She looked angry, and more than a little bit unhappy, but she let them in. Still, it wasn’t until Neil put his hand behind Stacy’s neck and drew her in for a long, protracted kiss that Karen at last fully accepted everything that she had been told. Stacy didn’t exactly co-operate, but she didn’t pull away either. And from the way her mouth was working, she was definitely returning the kiss. Unbelievable! Yet it was happening. And if that was happening, perhaps Sharon’s plan for Ashley might work as well. Karen trembled as a small shiver of excitement shot through her pudgy body.