"OK," Sharon ordered brightly, "let’s go."
She opened her door and slid out of the car. Stacy and Ashley followed suit, but Karen remained where she was. Sharon bent down and looked at her.
"You sure you don’t want to come in?" she asked. "It’ll be fun." Karen shook her head and looked away.
Sharon just shrugged her shoulders and closed the door. Gesturing at the two other girls to follow her, she began walking up towards the house.
The large living room had clearly been specially arranged for the party. Most of the furniture had been moved out, leaving only a big, yellow couch in the centre of the space. Instead of the tables, chairs and other bits of furniture that had been there a few months ago, the boys had laid out a bunch of bare mattresses. The BCN Barracudas had just finished up a winning season, and the guys were ready to party. They were crowded around the big couch - all fourteen of them - beers in hand, waiting for the big entrance. Sharon smirked at them as she stood by the door. Perfect. Time to get the show on the road.
"Gentlemen," she cried out theatrically over the catcalls and hooting, "I give you your entertainment for the evening. May I present…" She swung open the door. "Cumslut, who some of you know from before…"
Stacy - Cumslut - entered the room. She was wearing a short black miniskirt and bright pink tank top. A pair of black stockings ran from just below the hem of the skirt down to her feet, which had been forced into bright red, four inch pumps. She was having some trouble walking in them, but Sharon had insisted. In fact, Sharon had fastened shut the ankle strap with a small lock; Stacy would be wearing the pumps until Sharon chose to unlock them. Her hair was combed out, flowing down over her bare shoulders in a blonde wave, and her face was made up in the same overdone, sluttish manner it had been done the first time she had been here. She tried to force a smile and look sexy as she entered the room, following Sharon’s instructions, but it wasn’t easy. Thankfully, the drug was starting to have its customary affect on her, and she began to feel the familiar, welcome tingle in her crotch.
"…and Melons."
Ashley - Melons - followed close behind, wearing even less than Stacy. All she had on was a red garter belt, which held up a set of black, fishnet stockings. Her outfit was completed by a pair of pink lace panties and a black, pushup bra. Her breasts, always her most prominent feature, jutted out magnificently, the nipples clearly visible over the top of the bra. Like Stacy, she also wore a pair of four inch pumps, locked onto her feet by the ankle strap. Ashley also tried to smile and look sexy, but was unable to manage anything other than a frightened grimace. She was feeling nothing from the alcohol they had been given to drink. There was no comfortable disassociation or warm tingling in her pussy.
Just fear.
With a cheer of approval, the members of the BCN Barracudas surged forward to begin their party.
It had been a good season for Terry Brooks. A freshman at BCN, he had quickly found both a place on the first string of the Barracudas and acceptance at the almost all-white school. Terry, a tall wiry black boy from Oregon, had been expecting things to be difficult at BCN, but that hadn’t proved to be the case. Everything had come together nicely. First, a place on the team; then a winning season with him as the star receiver; and now this: prime white teenage pussy. The kind of thing he could only dream of at home. God, he loved California! Utilizing the speed which had made him a star on the football field, he was the first to reach Cumslut, the short blonde one. He liked them blonde; young, blonde and horny.
Like this one.
He threw his arm around her and crushed his lips to hers. She responded almost immediately, her tongue welcoming his into the wet confines of her mouth. While they kissed, he slipped his other hand down, under the miniskirt and up into her crotch. She wasn’t wearing any panties. He slid his finger into her pussy; it was already wet. She moaned into his mouth as they kissed.
What a slut!
Unable to hold himself back, Terry pushed her down backwards onto a mattress and climbed aboard. She fell back, legs spread invitingly. He fumbled at his zipper until his cock hung free. It was hard and ready for action. Cumslut gasped as he fell onto her and jammed it into all the way into her cunt with one powerful surge of his hips.
Almost immediately, she began to pump against him, trying to suck it in even further.
Stacy felt the orgasm hit just as the black guy came. The feel of his warm sperm boiling out into her pussy sent her over the edge into a rising wave of pleasure that overwhelmed all other considerations. All thoughts of shame, humiliation or pain were washed away in the screaming, writhing, crushing surge of ecstasy which slammed through her beautiful body. Gasping and writhing, Stacy screamed her pleasure until she crested the top and began to settle back down.
The black guy, a strange look on his face, pulled out of her and pushed himself to his feet.
"Fucking hell," he called over his shoulder as he backed away, "she’s a hot bitch."
In the back of her mind, Stacy realized she should be feeling something at this, but couldn’t remember what it was. All she knew right now was that she needed some more cock. Now! The guys were more than obliging. Almost immediately, she was dragged onto her hands and knees, and a cock stuck into her sopping pussy. She ground her tight ass back to meet the impaling thrusts of the guy fucking her.
Another cock appeared in front of her face. Instinctively, she grabbed at it and began sucking…
Sharon laughed as she watched Stacy writhe on the floor under the black guy. She was observing the event through the viewfinder of her father’s camcorder. The guys at BCN had been a little hesitant at her filming their party, but when she offered them the girls at half price, they had quickly agreed. As well, Sharon had assured them that the video was only for personal use. And, of course, she had promised them a copy.
She continued to film as Stacy’s moans and cries got louder and more passionate. Finally, Stacy writhed and screamed her way through the biggest orgasm Sharon had ever seen; all captured for posterity…
Ashley turned and tried to run as the guys from the football team surged towards her, but she was unable to move effectively in the high-heels. She stumbled against a wall, and was quickly caught. The football player who grabbed her was obviously a lineman of some sort; he was well over six feet tall and must have weighed close to 300 pounds. He spun her around to face him and began to paw at her tits as they jutted invitingly over the skimpy pushup bra.
"Melons, huh?" he grunted, a stupid grin on his face. His breath smelled of beer.
"P-please…" Ashley began to whimper in fright. All Sharon’s instructions about how she was to behave… all the warnings about blackmail and pictures fled from her mind. All that mattered was getting away from this nightmare.
The lineman moved one hand down and began to scratch roughly at her crotch. Ashley, now crying, dropped her hands from where they had been trying to protect her breasts and pushed at the offending hand, but it was no use. Ignoring her attempts to stop him, he grabbed at her panties and jerked them away from her crotch. The delicate elastic held for a moment, but then snapped. The useless panties were quickly dropped to the floor.
"Please," Ashley whispered, trying to steady herself against the wall. She tried to slide away, but she was unable to get any purchase on ground with the pumps.
The guy slid his cock free from his pants. It was rock hard.
"OK, Melons," he sneered, "here it comes."
Ignoring her cries, he inserted his cock into her dry pussy and began to push. Pinned, standing against the wall, the tall brunette could only wriggle in pain as the cock ground, inch by painful inch, into her cunt.