Message-ID: <34435asstr$1010023805@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <20020102203547.34755.qmail@web10001.mail.yahoo.com> From: "Dr. Wu" MIME-Version: 1.0 X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Wed, 2 Jan 2002 12:35:47 -0800 (PST) Subject: {ASSM} Untold Tales of Tiffany by Dr. Wu MMM/f teen nc humil Date: Wed, 2 Jan 2002 21:10:05 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, RuiJorge UNTOLD TALES OF TIFFANY MMMMM/f teen nc humil etc BY DR. WU THE USUAL BLAH BLAH: This story is copyright 2002 by Dr. Wu. It can be posted anywhere that is free to all users, but cannot be archived to any pay site without the author's permission. This story contains non-consensual sex, underaged persons, violence and some copyright violations. If you are under 18, go away. It is complete and utter fiction. Finally, anyone who would attempt to do anything in this story is a serious fool who deserves to be castrated with rusty pinking shears. This is fantasy, folks. THE SOMEWHAT SELF-INDULGENT EXPLANATORY NOTE TO FANS AND OTHERS: This is a continuation of the Tiffany Daniels saga, which I started in 1999. If you have not read the early installments, it won't make much sense. The earlier stories are archived on my website, http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/doktorwu/www, which is a work in progress and not yet perfect. While the other stories are all regular narratives, this is a series of shorter, related stories. They take place before, during and after the chronology of the Tiffany Daniels saga as established so far. Fans will also notice some different story-telling techniques. I welcome feedback from readers at doktorwu@yahoo.com. If anyone feels the need to express additional gratitude, please make a donation to the Alt. Sex.Stories Text Repository at www.asstr-mirror.org, a great non-profit story archive. NUMBER ONE THE ONE WITH THE FIDDLING ABOUT Forgive me father for I have sinned. It's been six months since my last confession. Proceed. Father, I hardly know where to start. I've never done anything like this, I swear. Please, tell me everything. It's my niece, Father. Her name is Tiffany, and she's 13 years old. Her parents went on vacation to Europe and left her and her little sister to stay with my wife and me for a week. They're good girls, and we've always been close. But this time I couldn't help but notice that Tiffany is blossoming into a beautiful young woman. You know how hot it's been lately, and my wife and I have a swimming pool in the backyard. And Tiffany and Stephanie, that's her little sister, have been spending a lot of time at the pool. She's my niece and all, but my God, I'm only human. Her first day at my house, she wore this white bikini that was so small and so tight, and it made her just look so delicious. She's really into puberty now, and filling out, growing breasts and getting curves, and her body is just incredible. She has this long blonde hair that she swishes around, and she lays out in the sun and has Stephanie spread suntan oil all over her body, and then she just lies there, getting her tan, her body glistening and gleaming from the oil. I took the week off work to help my wife take care of the girls, and I just couldn't keep my eyes off her, she is so sexy. So anyway, my wife had to go to Dallas unexpectedly to take care of a sick friend, and that left me alone in the house with Tiffany and Stephanie, cause my son was at summer camp. And I found myself thinking about Tiffany more and more, hoping that maybe she would make a move on me or seduce me. God, I wanted her so bad, that firm, ripe little body just coming into its own! I spent all day fantasizing that she'd ask me to come rub suntan oil into her, and I'd just slip my hand right down those skimpy little bikini bottoms and keep rubbing her and she'd start purring and then we'd kiss, and Oh, God! I was walking around with a constant hard-on, I mean major wood like I haven't had since I was 17 years old, for cryin' out loud! And of course, she didn't even know I was a man. I was just Uncle Ernie, good ol' Uncle Ernie. Could you get me a Coke, Uncle Ernie? Could you go get my Discman? What's for supper, Uncle Ernie? Can you take me and Steph to Blockbuster to rent some more tapes? And she'd bat her eyelashes at me, like she was just learning to flirt, only I could tell she didn't think about me that way. She probably liked some dumb-ass 14-year-old boy who wouldn't have enough sense to fuck a watermelon in a field, or she got all tingly over some boy band singer with no hair on his chest. Oh, man. I was goin' nuts. This nubile little sweety prancing around my house wearing less clothes than you see in some strip joints. But she was my niece, not to mention jailbait! So then after two days my wife got called away to Galveston to help a sick friend, and that left me home alone with Tiffany and Stephanie. And of course that only made my blue balls and my obsession worse, Father. The night she left, Tiffany and Stephanie came in to watch TV with me wearing long T-shirts with nothing underneath but their panties! They were not exactly flashing me, but occasionally I caught a glimpse, and to see their long, smooth, suntanned legs stretched out on the couch across the room from me, I had a boner that could break concrete. And that was when I just went off the rails. Tiffany usually had a cup of cocoa at bedtime to settle her tummy, and when I brought it to her that night in the guest room, there was a little something extra in it. My wife has problems with insomnia, and her doctor gave her some pretty powerful prescription sleeping pills. I broke one open and stirred the powder into her cocoa, told her good night and left her alone. But half an hour later I was back. I crept into the room, and my heart was hammering so badly I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. I whispered her name: Tiffany? Again, a little louder: Tiffany? Not a sound. I turned on a small desk lamp on the other side of the room, and there she was, sprawled on the bed, unconscious. She had the sheet covering her to her waist, and I summoned up my courage and lifted it and pulled it down to the foot of the bed. There was my little niece Tiffany, with her T shirt not quite covering the cotton crotch of her white panties, and those golden legs. I said her name again, this time in my regular speaking voice, and she didn't even flinch. She was really deeply asleep. I hardly knew where to begin. For that matter, I wasn't even sure what I wanted to do. OK, to be really honest, Father, since this is my confession, I wanted to have sex with her, but I knew that was never going to happen. That would wake her up, among other things. So all I did at first was gently raise her T shirt up. I pushed it up so all of her panties were showing, then further, exposing the flattest belly and this cute little innie belly button, then even further, wondering if I had the guts, but I was like a zombie, I was hypnotized by her beauty, and I did it, I pushed that T shirt up until her little breasts were exposed. She was not wearing a bra. Of course not, she was 13 and only starting to develop, her little boobies weren't that big, but there they were, so soft and white in contrast to her tan with nice pink nipples. Still feeling like I was in a trance, I leaned over and stuck out my tongue and just barely touched it to her nipple. I was licking my 13-year-old niece's nipple! But she made a little sound and so I jumped back. But then she was quiet, so I went back to her. I gently touched her on her tummy with my fingertips, and that didn't move her at all, so I traced my fingers down and over her the front of her panties. Oh, they were so warm, and just the thinnest layer of cotton separating me from her little pussy. I tried to see through them to see her hair, but they weren't see-through. So I kept running my fingers on her body, down her legs, down down, to her feet. I lightly traced the tops of her feet, and then her toes, and when I touched her toes, my cock jumped like it had gotten an electric shock! And suddenly this mental picture came into my mind. I realized that even though I had been ogling all of my middle-school niece the past two days, it was her sweet little feet I fixated on the most. Those dainty little toes, with their pink polish on the nails. I leaned over and inhaled them, and oh they smelled so sexy, little teenage girl feet, with a slight whiff of soap and sun and chlorine from the pool. That mental picture wouldn't go away, it just got stronger, and I had to do it, I just had to. I had to do it. There was a little squirt bottle of lotion on the dressed, and I grabbed it and unzipped my pants and let them fall to my ankles. God forgive me for what I was about to do! I moved down between those sweet little feet, and covered my cock with the lotion, rubbing it in to get it nice and warm. I was right on the verge of orgasm, and my heart still felt like it was about to explode. Then I gently moved her feet together, and slid my cock in between the soles. I was fucking Tiffany's feet! I'm sorry, Father, I know I'm getting carried away telling you this, but I was actually giving myself a foot job using my niece's feet! It wasn't really tight like a woman is, uh, you know, Father, or sorry, I guess maybe you don't, but it was the forbidden nature of what I was doing, and how horny I had been for two days. I slid my cock forward, and then pulled it back, back and forth, sawing in and out of the pocket I had made with the soles of her feet. The lotion gave me lubrication, and I felt my balls start to rise up in my sac, and the head of my dick was swollen, and I pulled all the way back so I could rub the head against the balls of her feet, and I pushed together just a little with my hands to make it tighter, oh yes, that was perfect, and I looked at her exposed little titties and her nipples and her panties and went back and forth, back and forth and yes, yes! I was cumming so hard, my stuff was just spurting out like a volcano, all over her feet and ankles, just coating her with semen. I stood there for a moment and just couldn't believe what I had done. Then I knew I had to get moving, so I dashed to the bathroom and got a towel and mopped her up, and switched off the light and left the room. She never knew what had happened! She had slept through the whole thing. Father? Father, are you still there? Yes, my son. You were just so quiet over there on your side. Your story is very, uh, disturbing, my son. Is there more, or is that all? I'm ashamed to say that there's more, Father. It gets worse. The next morning I felt guilty, like a good Catholic, and vowed that what I had done was a one time only thing. But then Tiffany asked me about noon if she could have some friends over for a pool party. I said sure, and within an hour my swimming pool was crawling with nubile middle-school girls, just coming into the blossom of womanhood, but still oh so girlish. They were named Mandy and Jessica and Britney and Christina and all the way girls are these days, and they all wore $100 bikinis. And if that wasn't bad enough, they were all a bunch of spoiled little princesses. I know my brother and his wife spoil their daughters, but listening to them all together, talking about the cars their daddies were going to buy them when they got their learner's permits, and which shop did the best pedicure, and whether anyone would be caught dead in Old Navy jeans, it just made me sick. Sick and somehow angry. My anger carried over to that night, after all the girls had gone home, and when I fixed little Tiffany her hot cocoa, I upped the does of sleeping pill powder. She might be the Crown Princess of her school, but tonight she was gonna be little sex puppet! This time I brought in my video recorder and tripod and set them up, fixing the lens to cover all of her bed as I pulled the sheet down and her T-shirt up. I kept the light low, but those recorders can do just fine in low light, and I knew I'd have something to watch after this was all over. Her long blonde hair spilled out over the pillow, her sweet lips were slightly parted, as if ready for a kiss, and her little 13-year-old boobies were so white and so perfect. I decided to take a risk as to what she would and would not remember the next morning, and pulled out some scissors I had brought in and gently, oh so very gently, I edged them under those white cotton panties and carefully cut them off. Then I pulled them away. And there was Tiffany's bare pussy. She was getting some hair, but not a lot, and I could see her lips just puffing out there, so yummy looking my mouth was watering at the sight. I knew I must be the only guy to see her pussy since she entered puberty, that I was looking at virgin territory, so to speak. I gently rested my hand on those wispy blonde pubes, and just enjoyed the warmth, and the feeling of the blood in her veins. I wanted to bury my mouth on that pussy, tease that little magic button until she orgasmed, but that would have awakened her, and I wanted to do something else instead. So as the recorder whirred, I dropped trou again, this time at the side of the bed up by the head, rather than at the foot. Gently, I moved her head toward me, being careful not to wake her, inch by inch, until her mouth was just a couple of inches away from my raging hard-on. Then I moved my crotch forward, until the very tip of my penis rested on that little girl's lips. I could feel her hot breath in her sleep tickling the head of my cock. It was the most incredible sensation I had ever felt. But I knew I could feel something even more awesome. I pushed forward just a little, tenderly opening her mouth with the head of my cock. Her breathing stayed the same - boy, she was really sound asleep! Little by little, I pushed my dick into her warm mouth, until I could feel her tongue. And then, oh God, Father, I couldn't believe it! Her tongue started moving! I don't know if she was dreaming or what, I know she wasn't awake and didn't know what she was doing, but her tongue was just moving a little, kind of back and forth, some sort of involuntary response I guess. My little niece was tonguing my cock! I wanted so badly to just jam the whole thing in to her tonsils, I wanted to force it down her throat, choke her, make her cry out, spurt my jism straight down her gullet and down into her stomach, but my self-control prevailed. I grabbed my shaft with one hand and started jacking off, rubbing my cock like I have for years, and feeling that little hot tongue caress my prick. Needless to say, that didn't take long. Pretty soon I felt it coming. I thought about spurting it into her mouth, figuring she would probably just swallow as a reflex, but knew that was risky, so I pulled out and aimed my cock at her sweet little titties. And kablam! My God, you'd have thought I was 15 and hadn't come in a month! The white stuff just came spurting out by the bucketful, just covered those puppies in jism. I stood there, breathing heavily, and just for the heck of it, stuck my dick back into her mouth. Her tongue rasped against the head, and I let her clean off the semen that clung to me. I figured she had never tasted semen before, and if she woke up with a funny taste in her mouth, she would never guess that's what it was. Then I got another towel and carefully wiped off her body, broke down the camcorder and tripod and went to bed. Oh, my son, my son, my son. I know, Father, I know. That's why I had to come to confession. I cannot believe what I have done, what a horrible thing. I need time to evaluate the extent of your sin. Do you have that video, my son? I do, Father. Good. I need to see it in order to pass judgment. Go home, get it and bring it to me at the rectory, right away. Yes, Father. Let me ask you. Is your wife still out of town? Yes, Father. And when does she return? In two days, Father. Very good. I think I might like to come to dinner at your house this evening, if that would be alright. I need to examine this niece of yours to see whether your sin has left a mark on her. She has no idea, Father. I'm quite certain. She smiled at me this morning and asked for blueberries in her pancakes. She hasn't a clue. Nevertheless, an examination is in order. A close examination. Perhaps I will bring along an overnight bag when I come to dinner tonight, and spend the night. Do you still have any more of those sleeping pills? A huge supply, Father. Excellent. Well, then, it's a date. I look forward to tonight. A great deal, in fact. Normally at this point I would give you penance and say Go and sin no more. But under the circumstances. I understand completely, Father. I'm looking forward to you coming tonight. I am too, my son. I'm looking forward to it a great deal! NUMBER 2 THE ONE WITH THE INITIATION Charles Daniels had just settled his large frame into the La-Z-Boy recliner when his daughter Tiffany burst into the den. "Daddy! Daddy! I made JV cheerleader!" she whooped. She bounded across the room and leapt into his lap, and threw her arms around his neck. "Way to go, princess!" he said with a grin. "I'm happy for ya!" "Oh, Daddy, I was so nervous, but they posted the results today! I made it! This is the most wonderful thing ever!" Charlie Daniels smiled indulgently. His little girl was growing up, he thought. Here she was 14 years old, a freshman in high school. She had always had an easy life, he knew, but hell, that's what money and connections were for. So she'd always had the best clothes, and lived in the best neighborhood, and had all the advantages she deserved. And if she was a little spoiled, so what? "Oh come on, you couldn't have been that nervous," he chuckled. "I was, really, daddy, I was," she said. "They say that in high school so much depends on getting the right start. If I make JV cheerleader as a freshman, then as a sophomore I can try out for varsity, and I'll be a strong candidate. And the football players all pay attention to you and ask you out, and that makes you popular, and so when I try out for a play the teachers know who I am and maybe I get a good role! This is, like, my big break!" "Well, good for you, princess." "Hey Daddy!" Little Stephanie piped up from the kitchen table, where she was doing her homework. "I got an A on my test today." His girls had always been a little bit competitive, Charlie knew. They were both equally pretty, and certainly equally rich, but Tiffany, being two years older, had always done everything first, so that Stephanie was always a little bit in her older sister's shadow. He had a feeling, though, that Stephanie probably had some brains that Tiffany, God love her, did not. "Good for you, pumpkin," he said, not wanting to slight Stephie. "And what was the test in?" "Sex education!", she announced proudly, and smiled at her father and older sister. Charlie swallowed, taken aback. "Well, um, good for you, Stephie, although maybe a dad doesn't want to hear that his daughter is getting an A in sex education." "Oh, daaaaaaaddy!" she teased. "It was just a test! Don't be such a prude! Jesus!" "And no swearing young lady!" he barked. Little Steph was going to be a handful, he just knew it. Just a seventh grader, figure like a stick still, but there was something about her that was just, well, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, and he was her father, and maybe he was uncomfortable thinking about just what it was about Stephanie. "Dinner!" called Emily Daniels, and they all went into the dining room. ************* One month later, Tiffany was a lot less excited about being a JV cheerleader. "A what?" she asked nervously. "Initiation? What's that?" "It's no biggie," said Jackie Stevens. "All the girls have to do it." "Seriously, we'll be right there with you," added Diane Weaver. The two senior cheerleaders kept poker faces, nothing but pure sincerity, as they bored in on Tiffany. All around them, the school bus was full of laughter, shouts, and teenage hormones so thick the air was almost soupy with it all. There are few places in life as thick with adolescent fever as a school bus full of cheerleaders and football players returning from a winning high school football game. Godfrey Daniels High had just beaten its rival, Forrest Bedford High. Two busses were now transporting the team, assistants and cheerleaders back to Beverly, a one-hour trip. The boys were pumped on their own adrenaline and testosterone, and then packed into close quarters with attractive girls in skimpy outfits that showed off their legs and midriffs. A few player-cheerleader couples always moved to the back seats, where they made out frantically. A handful of the more doltish players sometimes gathered around at hooted at them yelling obscenities - "Fuck her, dude!" "Get some stinky pinky!" and other such clever ripostes - while the unattached players hit on the unattached girls. It had been Tiffany's first game as a cheerleader, and the gorgeous 14-year-old had been pleased when Jackie Stevens, a senior and captain of the varsity squad, had sat down next to her for the ride back home. Her best friend, Diane, had taken the seat behind them. "But what do I have to do at the initiation?" Tiffany asked nervously. "Well, that's kinda secret," said Diane, giggling. "We'll tell you when the time comes. But don't worry, it will be OK. I promise." "And you like have to do it," said Jackie, oozing sincerity. "If you want to be accepted that is. If you don't, well, that would be unfortunate." "How?" asked Tiffany. "Well, you'll be like kind of an outcast on the squad. We'll spread the word among the players that you're a stuck-up little bitch who like thinks she's better than everybody else. You don't want to get that kind of reputation, Tiffany." "Or we could do the other thing," said Diane ominously. "What other thing?" asked the freshman. "Oh, I don't want to go there," said Jackie. "Remember what happened with Rachel last year when we tried it." "What other thing? What happened to Rachel?" Jackie lowered her voice even further. "Rachel Green was this freshman last year who refused the initiation. She was just a big scaredy-cat. So we told the Beast that she had a crush on him, and then we arranged to have her sit in the back of the bus with the Beast for a trip home from a football game. We went a little overboard with that one, I'm afraid." Tiffany shuddered. She had not personally met the Beast yet, but she had seen him, and knew of his reputation. A senior who had flunked eighth grade, Greg "the Beast" Mannheim was now 19 years old and a borderline psychopath. He was 6 foot 3, weighed close to 300 pounds, and had injured seven opposing players during his high school career. The rumor around Daniels High was that he liked rough sex, what the legal system would call rape, but which the Daniels administration called "boys will be boys." The thought of being stuck in the back seat of a dark school bus for an hour with the Beast gave Tiffany a bad case of the willies. Even though Jackie and Diane weren't technically threatening her with it, the fact that they had brought it up showed what they were capable of. The bus turned off the Interstate and pulled into a convenience store parking lot. "OK, listen up!" the bus driver bellowed into the PA system, trying to be heard above the din. "I gotta stop and gas up. Nobody gets off this bus!" The bus stopped at the gas pumps. "OK, here we go!" whispered Diane eagerly. "Come with us, Tiffany!" "But he said nobody gets off the bus!" "You gonna bitch, or you gonna come along?" Reluctantly, Tiffany Daniels left her seat and walked to the front of the bus with Jackie in front of her and Diane behind her. "Excuse me, Mr. Bus Driver," Jackie said before he could open the door. She made her voice all sugary and sing-songy, which usually got her her way with any heterosexual male under the age of 90. "I really have to go to the bathroom. And so my two friends." "I said nobody gets off the bus. If I let you off, then everybody gets off," he said gruffly. "But sir," and Jackie leaned in close to his ear, and exhaled just a little bit, so her breath would tickle his ear, "We're having, you know, female problems. It's an emergency." The driver started to waver. "Pretty please," Jackie breathed, and she leaned over further so that her breasts inside her cheerleading sweater brushed against his arm. He jumped as if touched with a lit match. "Alright, but make it fast. Five minutes and I'm pulling out!" He swung the door open with a hiss and the girls filed out toward the convenience store, which Tiffany now saw was called the Quik-E-Mart. "Just like on the Simpsons," she thought. "Head straight for the ladies room. Quick!" Jackie ordered as they entered the deserted store. All three girls piled into the ladies room, and only then did Tiffany notice that Jackie was carrying a small gym bag with handles. "OK, we don't have much time, so your job is to listen and not give us a bunch of shit, OK? Here's the initiation. You take off your skirt. You take off your sweater. You put them in this bag. On the count of three, we race back to the bus. I go first with the bag. You go second. Diane goes third. You run on the bus, where some of the girls are holding an open seat. Then we get your clothes out of the bag and you put them back on." Tiffany's jaw dropped and she stared at the two older girls. "Are you insane?" she hissed. "You want me to run back through the parking lot in my underwear? Everyone will see me!" "Duh, Einstein! That's why it's called an initiation! Now I said no arguing!. Strip!" "But, but," Tiffany stammered. Everything was happening so fast, and she was so confused. She had thought they were gonna make her shoplift a Slim Jim or something silly like that. But run around in her underwear, and let all the boys see her! How humiliating that would be. But she had said she would agree to be initiated." "Tick tock, Tiffany," said Jackie, getting angry. "Tick tock." "I wonder what kind of mood the Beast is in?" wondered Diane. "Probably in the mood for celebrating," Jackie replied. "Yeah, and the poor guy has no one to celebrate with," said Diane. "Alright! Alright! I'll do it!" yelled Tiffany, her voice echoing in the tiled bathroom. "You swear I can have my clothes back the second I'm on the bus." "Swear to God!" said Jackie. "OK then," the freshman said, and reluctantly, she lifted the white crop-top sweater with the large blue D on the front over her head, peeling it off, exposing a white lacy cotton bra and two very attractive adolescent breasts. "Now the skirt, come on!" said Diane, and Tiffany obeyed, stepping out of the blue and white pleated skirt. Jackie stuffed them into the gym bag and zipped it up. Tiffany had never felt more vulnerable in her life, standing in a bathroom in the middle of nowhere in her bra, panties, white socks and tennis shoes. She instinctively crossed her arms over her young swelling tits. She felt hot, and didn't realize that she was flushing with shame and embarrassment already. Jackie opened the door and peeked out. "Coast clear," she announced. "One two three!" And Jackie threw open the bathroom door with a bang and raced for the front door. Tiffany was right behind her. At first she kept her hands crossed over her chest, but realized that slowed her down, and dropped them. She raced past the glass cases of beer and Coke, and could see Jackie reaching the front door. The senior girl burst through the front door, and Tiffany pumped her legs harder, only a couple of seconds behind her. WHAM! Suddenly everything was spinning. She was down on the ground, and her butt hurt. Oh fuck, her jumbled brain thought. She had slipped in some kind of liquid on the floor and fallen. She picked herself up, and saw Diane racing out the front door to the bus as well, cackling with glee. Back on her feet, the door in sight. Come on, Tiff, she thought, get this over with. Headed toward the door, almost there, and then her evening suddenly got a whole lot worse. Two men were at the front door, men who had nothing to do with Daniels High School. Total strangers. They sauntered in, took one look at Tiffany and grinned widely. "Hey, lookee here, Red!" said the first. "Little girlie out in her undies tonight. Doin' some shopping, honey?" "Heh heh heh," laughed the second man. "She's got her some nice titties, there, Dawg." Tiffany stood frozen, for a second, staring at the two gross-out men. They looked to be in their mid 40s, her daddy's age, but where her daddy was a prosperous businessman, these two guys were pure Texas redneck. Both were about six feet tall, medium build, and dressed identically in work boots, faded jeans and white T-shirts with varying amounts of stains and rips. Both could use a shave, and their brown hair was worn long, curling down to what would have been their collars, if they had had collars. They looked very much alike and were, in fact, brothers: Charles "Red" Tyler, 46, and his brother James "Dawg" Tyler, 44. They stood in front of the door, and Tiffany could see the Daniels High School bus outside in the parking lot. Suddenly the thought of all her fellow students seeing her in her underwear was far preferable than being ogled by two extremely creepy old guys; the bus looked like an oasis of safety, like heaven on wheels. She felt her adrenaline surge, and she ran straight for the door, hoping she could burst past the redneck brothers. Instead, they stepped together to block her, and she ran smack into Red, who caught her in his arms. She smelled old sweat and beer, and pushed back, breaking his embrace. "Girlie's in a hurry," said Red. "Yeah, girlie, what's your hurry?" echoed Dawg, who appeared to have trouble mustering much in the way of original thought. "Maybe she's trying to run out to that bus," theorized Red. "And since that's a Daniels bus, and this here is a pretty little girlie, she must be a Daniels cheerleader." "Fuckin' Daniels!" spat Dawg. "Yeah, they beat our boys pretty good tonight," said Red. "Whole town's pissed off at Daniels. So tell us, purdy little girlie, what's your name?" "Let me go!" Tiffany yelled, and tried to step around the men, who moved in the same direction, blocking her access to the door. Jesus, the girl, thought, this is awful. What am I going to do? "Hey! I asked you your name, little Daniels cheerleader," said Red, with anger in his voice. "Now!" "It's Tiffany. Now please let me go. I haven't done anything to hurt you." "And we haven't done anything to hurt you either, girlie. So just settle down. So how come you're in here in your bra and panties, Tiffany?" When Red said panties, Dawg giggled and started eyeing her crotch, and Tiffany quickly covered the white cotton front with her hand. "It's an initiation," she blurted. "And I'm supposed to be on the bus now, and if I'm not there in five seconds the whole team is gonna be in here looking for me." "Ooh, I'm scared!" said Red, pretending to tremble. Dawg laughed. "Yeah, scared!" he echoed. "Tell ya what, girlie. We'll let you get on that bus if you do a little cheer for us. Just like you was doing back at the stadium tonight. You know, rah rah rah." "You want me to cheer for you?" The whole scene was just too strange. Tiffany's heart was hammering, she felt like she was going to cry, she could feel herself sweating even though she was barely dressed. She tried to control her breathing. She had to get out of this. What if the school bus pulled away and left her, all alone, with these horrible men? They might rape her or hurt her or kidnap her or God knows what. Do what they say and get on the bus, she told herself. "What kind of cheer?" she asked nervously. "A topless cheer!" Dawg yelped. "Hey, what's going on over there" yelled the clerk. Tiffany, Red and Dawg all froze and turned toward the counter. A young man who looked Middle Eastern was peering around the cigarette displays, trying to see them, but couldn't quite see them. "Shut your fuckin' mouth, raghead!" Red yelled. "Mind your own fuckin' business or we'll come over there and kick yer ass back to Arab-land!" Dawg laughed at this witticism, and the clerk, cowed by the outburst, suddenly got very busy organizing something behind the counter. "Now, you was saying, Dawg? A topless cheer?" "Yeah! I wanna see them titties shake!" "Matter of face, I do too, Dawg. Tell you what, Tiffany girlie. We'll give you a choice. You can give us one good topless cheer and then go back to your friends, or we can just take you out the back way, pop you in our pickup and take you home for the night for a little lovin'." "I vote for the lovin'!" said Dawg, his face an evil mask of lust. "Naw, come on Dawg, you said you wanted a topless cheer. Ya can't just be changing your god-damn mind all the time." Do what they say and get on the bus, Tiffany thought. It was the only thing in her poor, paralyzed mind. Maybe the team would burst through the door and rescue her. Or maybe not. Maybe the bus would pull away. Don't let it happen. Do what they say and get on the bus. "If I do you a cheer, you'll let me go?" she asked again. "A topless cheer," Dawg reminded her. "Shaking those titties. And we'll let you go. But if you don't have that bra off by the time I count to three, girlie, we're taken a ride. One. Two." "OK! OK!" Tiffany screamed. Trembling, not even believing this was happening to her, she reached behind her back and unclasped the bra, and let it fall to the floor. Her beautiful young breasts sprang into view, and the combination of fear and the air conditioning in the store made her little pink nipples pop out. Without even thinking, she covered them with her hands. These horrible, horrible rednecks were ogling her chest! She was only 14, and it was just too horrible! "Hands down, bitch. I'm losin' my fuckin' patience. Now, give me a cheer, you little whore!" Tiffany had never been called a bitch or a whore in her life, but she was too stunned and afraid to take offense. She knew what she had to do. Do it badly, she thought, and they'll make you do it over again. So do it good and get it over with. She placed her hands on her hips, arms akimbo, the No.1 starting position. Tiffany Daniels stood in the middle of the store, clad only in socks, sneakers and her white panties. Her beautiful blonde hair spilled down her shoulders, and her blue eyes tried not to show the fear she felt. Her breasts glowed white in the fluorescent light against the tan of the rest of her body, and the pink gumdrops of her sweet nipples were as erect as they had ever, pointing right at her two tormentors as if taking aim. "Ready?" she yelled. "OK! D-A-N-I! E-L-S! Who's the high school that's the best? Daniels! Daniels! Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaa, Daniels!" She swung her arms madly in rhythm to the chant, and at the end she leapt into the arm, twisting her body slightly. If she had been wearing her skirt, it would have swirled around her thighs, creating lustful urges in the males in the stadium. But now she wore only her cotton panties. She landed on the floor, and immediately crossed her arms over her exposed tits. "OK, now I can go!" she announced. "I dunno," drawled Red. "I'm thinkin' maybe I changed my mind. Having a little cheerleader girlfriend like you is just too good to pass up. So I think maybe we're gonna..." Red never finished the sentence, cause at that moment the front door burst open and an enormous roaring mass burst through the door. It slammed into Red's back, and he pitched forward five feet, stumbling and flailing, until he knocked down a pyramid of six-packs. Dawg turned and was met in the throat by a beefy forearm that sent him crashing backward. Tiffany saw the Beast take two steps toward her. He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, turned and ran back out toward the bus. The two rednecks were too stunned to hear the cheers echoing in the bus: "Go Beast go! Go beast go!" The Beast galloped across the parking lot with Tiffany over his shoulder. Her panty-clad ass stuck high up in the air, and her breasts were crushed into his shoulder blade, and the world was upside down and very confused, but she knew somehow she had been rescued. Up the steps, and the cheering reached an insane level. The bus driver whooshed the doors closed, and pulled away just as Red and Dawg ran out the front door, looking even more stupefied than normal. Jackie and Diane were waiting with her sweater and skirt, and formed a protective cordon so she could have a little bit of privacy. As she yanked on the sweater, she realized her bra was still back on the Quik-E-Mart floor, but it hardly mattered. The bus hit the interstate and accelerated, bound for Beverly, Texas. The next few minutes were a blur as Tiffany, Jackie and Diane all talked at once. Tiffany telling what had happened and the girls almost in tears at how their harmless prank had almost led to her being raped. The whole busload of students gathered around, but Jackie and Diane used their authority to disperse them back to their students, in hopes that the incident wouldn't make the school rumor mill. They could get in serious trouble with Principal White for pulling such a stunt, and word among the female students at Daniels was that you didn't want Roger White on your bad side. Slowly, they all caught their breath. Finally, they were talked out and fell silent. "Uh, Tiffany, I hate to mention this, but there is like one more thing," Jackie whispered. "What?" "Well, uh, the Beast probably deserves some sort of thank you." Tiffany turned around and saw him, sitting alone in the back of the bus. Waiting. Grinning. "We'll come back with you and make sure it's OK. But you really need to go back there and thank him. He saved your life, you know." "Yeah, I know," Tiffany said. "But you guys stay with me so he doesn't hurt me, OK?" "We will, but I don't think that will be a problem," said Diane. " I think he likes you." Tiffany got up and walked, somewhat rubber-legged toward the back of the school bus. The Beast waited. He'd be nice to this one, he thought. She was young, and she smelled good. He wouldn't hurt her. So long as she gave him a hand job. NUMBER 3 THE ONE WITH THE MAGIC BOX Tiffany looked around. Where the hell was she? This wasn't her little town. And yet it looked strangely familiar. She walked down the main street, which was dark and quiet, trying to figure out where she was, and how she had gotten here. A sign. Literally, there was a sign. It said "Magic Box," just like the store on her favorite TV series, "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." This is too weird, she thought. Is this a dream? Did someone put something in my drink at a dance? What is going on? The pretty blonde schoolgirl headed toward the front door, when suddenly she was grabbed from behind. Something incredibly strong had her in its grip, and a large scaly hand reached around from behind and tore the front of her blouse open. Her braless breasts spilled out into the cool night air as she started to scream. Tiffany kicked backward and twisted, and somehow popped free from the iron grip of the beast. The doorway was right in front of her and she burst through it, into the Magic Box. "Help!" she screamed. The arm of an unseen figure jerked her aside, and she heard a bolt lock being slammed in the door. Outside, the thing, whatever it was, howled in fury, pounded the door, and then, defeated, left to look for another victim. Her heart was pounding. "Oh Jesus, thank you so much!" she blurted at her unseen benefactor. "No problem, love," he said in a crisp British accent. "That was a particularly nasty Rape Demon. They've been working over the prettier girls in Sunnydale all night, I'm afraid. Another couple of minutes and it would not have been a pretty sight." "Spike?" Tiffany asked. "The one and only," the vampire said as he stepped out of the shadows. "My, you're a tasty little thing, aren't you?" Tiffany shivered, realized her breasts were exposed and crossed her arms over her chest. What the hell was going on? "Buffy and I were just playing a little game, and you're invited to play along. In fact, I insist." Spike reached into a pouch, pulled out his hand and flung something at Tiffany. It was powder, and it glittered and sparkled even in the dim light. "Silvania!" Spike shouted at the dumbfounded teenager. "Run! Get out!" yelled a voice from the recesses of the store, which Tiffany recognized as Buffy Summers, her favorite kick-ass TV heroine of all time. "Stay right where you are," Spike ordered. Tiffany started to turn, and realized she was rooted to the floor. She could not move. "You're gonna want all this explained to you, I suppose," Spike sighed. "OK, here are the highlights, love. The powder and the incantation combine to produce a magic spell which makes you my slave. It's a little something I stole from a book from that lesbo witch Willow. You'll be fully yourself, but you will do exactly what I tell you to do, and you won't be able to stop yourself. Here, let me show you. Uncross your arms and show me those pretty titties." Tiffany could hardly believe it, but she found herself doing as bidden, uncrossing her arms and showing Spike her magnificent jugs, the lust objects of every boy in her high school. "Now jump up and down and shake those funbags, bitch!" Spike ordered, and again, without being able to stop herself, Tiffany started hopping in place. The C-cup boobies bounced violently on her chest. Spike smiled cruelly. "Welcome to my world, sweetie. Now, stop hopping for the time being and tell me who you are." "My name is Tiffany Daniels, and I'm a student at Godfrey Daniels High School in Beverly, Texas. I know you and Buffy from the TV show, I watch it every week." "TV show?" asked Spike. "I don't know about any bloody TV show. Hey Slayer-cunt! Are we on a TV show?" "No, Master!" came the reply from Buffy. The teenager trembled, not comprehending what was happening to her. She wanted to run out the door, even taking her chances with what had grabbed her on the street, but remained in place due to Spike's magic spell on her. "Please, Spike, I don't understand," she whimpered. "I don't understand either," he replied. "There's no such high school here in Sunnydale. But I'm not complaining. Buffy and I were just playing a little game of Naughty Schoolgirl, and now along comes a real schoolgirl to play along with us. Must be my lucky day, mate. Two for the price of one, and all that." "Please don't hurt me. Please," she begged. "Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?" he taunted. "So far I've been getting some serious jollies hurting the Slayer rather severely, so maybe that will satisfy me, and maybe it won't. Why don't you come back and say hello. But first, why don't you strip naked? "Oh, God, please don't make me do this," Tiffany blurted, but even as she was saying it, she was unfastening her skirt and letting it fall to the floor. Her mind willed her body to stop, but her body disobeyed, as her hands hooked into her panties and pulled them down her bare legs. She stepped out of her sandals, and stood before the evil Spike without a stitch of clothing. She started to place a hand in front of her pussy, but was stopped before she could move it an inch. "Very nice, Tiffany," he spat, with lust in his voice. "I almost wish I could concentrate completely on you. But there's a bit of payback going on back here with the Slayer, so follow me and we'll continue our game." He turned and strode to the back room of the Magic Box, and flipped a light switch. There was the mighty Buffy Summers, the character Tiffany practically worshipped. She never missed an episode, but she had never seen Buffy like this. The young woman was as completely naked as Tiffany was. She was doing a handstand in the middle of the floor, and holding her legs out in a split. Her luscious, perfect body formed a T figure. Tiffany could tell the strain of holding the position was tremendous, as Buffy's face was red with exertion and the blood flow of being inverted. Her arms quivered slightly, and Tiffany wondered how long she had been forced to hold the torturous position. "Oh God poor Buffy!" she shouted. "Ah yes, poor, poor Buffy," Spike sneered. "Poor little cock-teasing bitch Buffy Summer, shaking that sweet ass all over Sunnydale and giving it up only twice, and neither of those times to me. So when I stumbled on the little Silvania spell, well, it was revenge time. We started off dressing Buffy up as a naughty schoolgirl, and I made her beg forgiveness for all the times she had been a nasty little prick tease. Then since I didn't forgive her, we had a nice long session with her over my knee, bare-assed, getting a pretty serious spanking. "But that didn't satisfy me, so I made her shave her pussy for me while I took Polaroids. Then she assumed the present position, and I went and got this." He picked up a long, thin, supple cane. Tiffany couldn't tell what it was made of, maybe a fresh switch cut from the branch of a willow tree, but as Spike snapped it through the air, it made a very menacing whooshing sound. "Jesus, Spike, please! I'll do anything!" Buffy suddenly screamed. It unnerved Tiffany to hear her heroine beg for mercy. She should have been churning out funny one-liners, bravely putting Spike down even in her position, cause that's just who Buffy was. Instead, she was almost crying with fear. Tiffany could see her freshly shaved groin now, her pussy sticking straight up toward the ceiling, at just the perfect height for Spike's planned torment. She could see the red marks on Buffy's ass globes where the vampire had taken out his years of frustration. "So for now," Spike said to Tiffany, "your job is to stand there and cheer me on, Miss Tiffany. Buffy has a date with some serious pain, and I don't want to keep her waiting. The more enthusiastic you are in cheering me on and encouraging me to do my worst, the more lenient I will be with you later. If I'm not satisfied with your cheers, you'll trade places with her in a few minutes." With that, he stripped off his white shirt. His lithe, muscular torso gleamed with sweat. He stepped toward Buffy and lined the wicked looking cane up with her vulnerable pussy. Swish! The cane cut down, and landed brutally right in the center of her most sensitive spot. Buffy screamed in agony, and her whole body swayed, but Spike's magic forced her to maintain the position. "Go Spike go!" Tiffany yelled. "Hurt her again! Hurt her again! Harder! Harder!" The befuddled, terrified teen wasn't sure if she was doing her high school cheerleading routines because of Spike's spell or because she was so afraid of replacing Buffy. Swiiiiiish! went the came, catching the Slayer on one pussy lip. "Aiiieeeee!" Buffy screamed helplessly. "God, God, don't, oh please!" "Whip the bitch! Hurt the bitch!" hollered Tiffany, and she began to roll her arms and kick her legs, just as she did at the stadium back home for the football games. Swiiiiiish! Spike aimed for the tender skin, stretched ever so tight, on Buffy's inner thigh. The girl had not stopped screaming when a nasty red welt began to appear. Swiisssh!! This time he caught the other thigh. Swiiish! Swiisssh! Swiiiiiiish! Spike brought the cane down again and again, striping the inside of her thighs. Buffy Summers' screams were non-stop. Tears of agony and rage streamed down her face, or rather up her face, since she was upside down. "Hold that position!" Spike ordered as her arms began trembling even more. Swiish! He landed the horrible implement right in the center of Buffy's tender vulva, and caught the poor girl's exposed clitoris. Her howl of agony shook the walls. Tiffany kept at her cheerleading routine, sweat popping up on her brow. "B-U-F-F-Y! Make her scream and make her cry! Gooooooooo Spike!" she improvised. She leapt into the air, shaking imaginary pom-poms, making her big tits naked bounce madly. Spike paused. "OK, shut up, now both of you!" he ordered. "Not a peep! It's getting too bloody noisy in here for a man to do his work." He was breathing heavily from swinging the cane so hard into Buffy's fair skin. "Let's have a change of pace," he said, almost to himself. "Tiffany-Cunt, you can stop the cheerleading routine. Just stand there quietly and masturbate. I want you to watch what I'm doing to Buffy, and it's turning you on more than anything you've ever felt. Play with your pussy, girl. Now!" Tiffany's hand shot down to her crotch, and she was surprised to find it already damp with her juices. She found her clit and began massaging it frantically with two fingertips. God, it felt so good, she realized. "Buffy-Cunt. Instead of screaming, I want you to sing while I continue whipping the shit out of you. How about a nice show tune? What am I in the mood for? I know. 'I Enjoy Being a Girl.' " Tiffany was surprised by the turn of events. "I Enjoy Being a Girl" was one of her favorite songs. When she had been in middle school she had attended a performance of "Flower Drum Song" at Daniels High School, and it was then and there she had decided she wanted to perform in high school musicals as well. Unable to do anything but obey, Buffy burst into song: "When I have a brand new hair-do/ With my eyelashes all in curl/ I float as the clouds on air do/ I enjoy being a girl." "Ahh," sighed Spike, "nothing like a little Rodgers and Hammerstein to get a guy inspired again." He moved around in front of the inverted Slayer and eyed her helpless breasts. Swiiiiiish! Down came the cane again, this time on the soft tissue on the underside of Buffy's beautiful right tit. She let out a whooshing sound, but Spike had forbidden her to scream, had told her only to sing, so she kept on singing. "When men say I'm cute and funny/ And my teeth aren't teeth but pearl/" Swiiiish! Spike lashed the underside of her left breast with the brutal stick. She quivered in pain, but kept singing, not missing a beat. "I just lap it up like honey/ I enjoy being a girl!" Tiffany watched the surreal torture show played out in front of her, but her mind was increasingly on her swelling sexual feelings. Her clit felt huge and wet under her fingers. Pussy juice was trickling out of her, and she felt an enormous orgasm building up inside of her. Since she was free to think what she wanted - only her actions were controlled by Spike - she hoped that it was Spike's spell that was having this effect on her, and not watching a poor innocent girl being flayed viciously with a cane by a madman. Spike took aim at Buffy's nipple, and lashed the cane down, catching the little pink nubbin with the tip of the cane. Unable to scream, Buffy kept on singing: "I flip when a fellow sends me flowers/ I drool over dresses made of lace/ I talk on the telephone for hours/ With a pound and half of cream upon my face!" The cane caught her other nipple, and the agony was more than Buffy could have imagined. Spike began raining down blows on her nipples, occasionally missing and splatting the thin piece of wood into the tender skin on the underside of her breasts. Her entire chest felt like it was on fire, but the spell was unbreakable. "I'll give you a pound and a half of cream on your face, baby," Spike joked. "I'm strictly a female female," she sang "and my future I hope will be/ In the arms of some brave and free male/ Who'll enjoy being a guy having a girl like me!" Swiiiissshh! Spike switched back to Buffy's poor pussy, and the change-up caught her by surprise, multiplying the pain as the cane split her swollen red labia. He took careful aim, and this time caught the tender patch of tissue between the bottom of her fuck-hole and the top of her anus. The skin was stretched tight by Buffy's terrible position, and she wailed like a banshee when Spike landed the blow perfectly. Grinning wickedly, he struck the spot again and again untill it began to swell and turn purple. "Oh yes, Oh God yes!" Tiffany moaned as her fingers flew over her pussy. She was so close, just a matter of seconds, as the adolescent diddled herself frantically. She could feel it starting. Her knees felt weak, and the room was getting wobbly. "Stop!" Spike yelled at her. Tiffany's hand froze. "You'll come when I say you can come!" he snarled. "And nobody gets off around here before Spike gets off." He unfastened his black leather pants and let them fall to the floor. Tiffany gasped at what she saw. The vampire's penis was enormous! It was standing straight up, pointing at the ceiling, and it looked to the frightened girl as if it might be 14 inches long. It was thin, and at the tip, it got thinner, narrowing almost to a point. "Meet the real Spike, ladies," he said proudly. "How d'ya think I got my nickname?" Tiffany couldn't tear her eyes away from the monstrous organ, even though she had not been ordered to look at it. The vision, combined with hovering maddeningly right on the verge of orgasm, had the youngster in a complete tizzy, not sure what she was feeling or why. "OK, Slayer, Cunt, you can let yourself down," Spike said, and Buffy, her arms shaking, lowered herself to the floor, where she collapsed and rolled into a ball. "Hey now, none of that! It's time for Round Two. The game isn't over yet, babe. Now I get to play director. Buffy, lay on your back. Pull your knees up so your pussy is exposed. Tiffany, I want you on all fours, hands and knees. Position yourself so your face is over Buffy's pussy, and your pussy is over Buffy's face. You, 69-style." The two helpless slaves scrambled to obey the order. But as they moved to follow the order, even though they were helpless under the spell, Tiffany heard Buffy whisper into her ear as their faces passed. "Make a wish!" Buffy whispered. Tiffany had no idea what Buffy meant, and quickly the moment passed and they were in position. Tiffany looked down into Buffy's shaved crotch, and could see the angry welts from the caning. Buffy, meanwhile, looked up and say Tiffany's spasming pussy hovering inches above her face, the hood over her clitoris retracted and the pearl-like organ completely exposed. "Very good, cunts," Spike said as he walked around behind Tiffany. "Now we're gonna play another little game. Tiffany, don't love." he squatted down behind her in doggy-style position and began easing his incredibly long cock into her sopping wet pussy. "Ohhhhhhh," Tiffany moaned as it began to fill her. It kept coming and coming, more and more. God, how much could she take? How far in would it go, she wondered. "Ahhhh, that's more like it," Spike said. "I'll do you in a bit, Slayer, don't worry. Only with you, the old Spike-inator will go straight up that little asshole of yours! I figure Angel and Riley may have enjoyed the charms of your pussy, but I'll be the first to bugger you!" Buffy Summers moaned. "So here's how the game works," Spike said. "Tiffany, you will eat Buffy's pussy and do everything you can to make her cum. Buffy, you will eat Tiffany's pussy and do everything you can to make her cum. The winner is the first girl to make the other one cum. And for a little incentive, the winner gets to rest for a bit, while the loser has a date with the Rape Demons outside. What I'll do is order you to walk outside the Magic Box and stand in the middle of the street, stark naked, and yell, "Hey, Rape Demons, you want some of my pussy?" If you think my dick is an act of God, wait till you see how the Rape Demons are hung. Their cocks are as big around as a beer can, and kind of leathery, and they have hundreds of tiny little barbs off them that will make you feel like like you're being raped by a baseball bat wrapped in steel wool and fish hooks! So I suggest you two ladies start eating the other one out!" Tiffany and Buffy didn't hesitate. This was no time for solidarity. They were helpless under Spike's magic "Silvania" spell, and they each knew they had to eat some serious pussy to survive. Tiffany lowered her face into Buffy Summers shaved quim. She found the young woman's clit immediately and began to lap frantically at the small bud, like a starving kitten attacking a bowl of cream. Almost immediately, she could feel Buffy's pussy juices flowing. The Slayer tried to push her legs together to keep Tiffany from tonguing her, but Tiffany pushed her face down harder and worked the Slayer's clitoris for all she was worth. And it was all Tiffany Daniels could do to concentrate, given the overwhelming series of sensations that were bombarding her own adolescent pussy. Spike's massive dong was sliding in and out of her, massaging the inner walls and rubbing against her G spot on the inside under her clit. Buffy's mouth was attached to her pussy like a sea lamprey, and she was licking and sucking the cheerleader like crazy. It's not fair! Tiffany thought. Buffy had started from a point of pain, while she had been masturbating, working herself into a frenzy, and had been close to orgasming only a few moments ago. Now, feeling Buffy's warm mouth on her clit, she was quickly edging closer and closer to a massive orgasm. And when she came, she knew, Spike would throw her out to be gang-banged, probably to death, by evil-pronged Rape Demons! "Don't cum!" she told herself over and over, but that mouth was so warm and so wet, it felt like a part of her, as if there was no separation between her cunt and Buffy's mouth. Oh God, she wouldn't last long! "Bloody fucking hell!" Spike yelled. He rammed his erection home, burying himself into Tiffany's pussy again and again. The beleaguered girl didn't know where it was all going, and didn't have the consciousness to figure it out. She was being impaled on his massive cock, and she liked it, oh God yes she liked it, no she loved it! "Fuck me, you bastard!" she screamed, but with her mouth clamped tight over Buffy's crotch all that could be heard in the room was Tiffany's inarticulate moan. But Buffy jerked when Tiffany screamed into her pussy, the vibrations echoing through her pussy. Tiffany, acting on instinct, started moaning more, as loud as she could, as if she were giving Buffy Summers a humjob. But no, this was awful, this was perverse, Tiffany thought. He's evil, he hurt Buffy, and he'll kill me if he gives me to the Demons. I've got to break out of his spell. "Make a wish," Buffy had told her. It popped back into her head. Maybe Spike could force Buffy to do and say certain things as his slave, but she still had her free will, and she was telling Tiffany the key! She still had her own free will, and unless Spike forbid her from making a wish, which he had not, she could do so. It was worth a try. "I wish," Tiffany thought, "I wish I was home safe in my bed." And she was. Just like that. No flash, no sensation. One second she was on her hands and knees on the floor, with Spike hammering his cock inside her and Buffy eating her pussy, and the next instant she was in her bed. She turned on the light. She was shaking, hard. And she was naked. Had she gone to bed naked? She didn't remember. And she was horny. She reached under the sheet and touched her pussy. She was wet. She slipped a finger in, and could tell she had had something up inside herself recently. Had she been dreaming, and masturbating during her dream? Or had it all really happened? There was, maybe, one way to find out. If she made a wish again, and wished to be back in the Magic Box... A part of her wanted to. Wanted to feel Spike's cock and Buffy's mouth again. But a part of Tiffany Daniels knew she had a test tomorrow. Her hand was still on her pussy, and she began to rub her clit, first softly, then increasingly harder, as she remembered what it had felt like, whatever it had been. NUMBER 4 THE ONE WITH THE POLITICALLY INCORRECT JOKE Tiffany was eating lunch with her gang of buds at Daniels High School. As seniors, they were allowed to eat outside, in the courtyard, on the warm spring day. Tiffany, Amber, Ashley, Mandy and Becca sat on the grass spooning yogurt and sipping Diet Coke. As senior cheerleaders and the well-known beauties of Daniels, they couldn't afford eating binges. "Tiffany, honey," drawled Ashlee, "you know we love you, but you have like got to stop dressing like such a skank!" "Ashleeee!" screeched Amber. "That is like so mean!" "But it's true," said Ashlee. "I'm sorry," Tiffany said. "Hayden wants me to dress this way." At the mention of Hayden, the girls got quiet. He was Tiffany's boyfriend, a sort of geek she had taken up with for no reason they could discern, and one who seemed to have a powerful, unhealthy hold over her. Today, for example, he had wanted her to dress in a tight black T-shirt with the words "I'm lost. Will you take me home?" on it, and obviously no bra underneath. Every time she walked her large, firm titties bounced like crazy. Then there was the obscenely short black leather miniskirt, and the black fishnet stockings with a couple of tears, and the black combat boots. Tiffany was a member of the school elite, but Hayden had her dressing like one of the Goth kids, the outcasts. Tiffany couldn't admit it to her friends, but she was horribly ashamed to be dressed like this at school. But Hayden had been learning since he had become her master, as opposed to just her boyfriend, and one of the things he had gleefully discovered was that for a teenage girl like Tiffany, for whom image is extremely important, destroying that image can be as demeaning and humiliating as all sorts of sexual atrocities. There was an awkward silence. "Hey, I got a joke!" Tiffany said, trying to change the subject. "What do you call one white guy surrounded by 1,000 niggers? "Warden!" The girls all shrieked with laughter. Out of the corner of her eye, Tiffany saw something large and dark. She whirled around, and saw Old Joe Black, the African-American janitor, glaring at her. The others all followed her gaze, and the laughter instantly died. They looked down with shame. Old Joe stared at Tiffany, his face fixed with anger, his eyes bulging. Then he smiled, and walked away. "Oh, jeez, do you think he like heard?" asked Becca. "Yeah, I think he did," said Tiffany. Her stomach was suddenly knotted, and she set her yogurt aside. She knew more about Old Joe, and Old Joe knew more about her, than any of the other senior babes could ever guess. After the bell rang, and Tiffany was in class, the moment she had been dreading came. A student showed up with a note, the teacher called her up, and in a few moments she was standing outside Principal White's closed office door. The door opened, and Roger White motioned her in, looking stern. He stopped her as soon as she was inside the office, and shut the door. Joe Black stood against the far wall, along with the school's other janitor, Wayne Brody. "Why in the hell are you dressed like such a skank?" White asked her. Tiffany looked down at the floor. "Hayden told me to wear this." "Ahhh," said White. "That explains it. Listen, I'll have a talk with Hayden. If he wants to treat you like his very own Barbie doll, that's one thing. But I'll have him choose something a little less ugly. Would you like to wear something prettier than that, Miss Daniels?" "Yes, sir," she replied meekly, still not meeting his gaze. "I for one would like to see you in something more girly. You've got beautiful tits, Miss Daniels, and hiding them under a black T-shirt is practically a crime. Why don't you take that shirt off. This second." Tiffany hesitated only a moment, but knew the position she was in. Resistance would only make this men treat her more roughly later on. She grabbed the bottom of the T-shirt, lifted it over her head, and dropped it to the floor. She stood, naked from the waist up, her gorgeous 17-year-old breasts totally exposed. Old Joe and his partner Wayne stared at her. Wayne licked his lips. "Nice obedience," Miss Daniels," the principal said. "Now why don't you walk over to these two fine employees and apologize for that joke you told earlier?" Tiffany swallowed hard, but hoped that maybe a quick apology and she could be done with this hellish scene. She walked across the office until she stood mere inches from Joe and Wayne. She forced herself to look up and meet their hard stares. "I'm sorry I told that joke. It was wrong of me. I'm not a racist." Wayne looked at Joe, who was obviously calling the shots. "Put your hands behind your back," Joe ordered the girl. Tiffany started to tremble, but dutifully obeyed. The new position caused her to arch her back slightly, which of course made her breasts stand out even more. The air conditioning in the office was bringing her nipples to life, as well, and the puckered to erection from the chill. Joe stuck a finger in his mouth, got it wet, and reached out and touched her right nipple. Tiffany jumped, as if given an electric shock. "Nice tits," Joe said simply, and all three men chuckled lewdly. Tiffany bit her lip, praying the ordeal would end soon. "Tiffany, I'm afraid an apology for an offense of this magnitude just isn't sufficient," White intoned. "I'm afraid you need to be taught a serious lesson. Now I've been talking about it with Joe and Wayne here, and the original plan was to give you a good old-fashioned bare-bottomed caning, and let these two take turns turning that delicious little ass of yours into raw hamburger." Tiffany gasped, and opened her mouth to start to beg. "No, please, anything but..." "But they pointed out we have a basketball game in two days, and it just wouldn't do to have you out there with welts that might be visible. So since you have already offered "anything but" a caning, they're going to take you up on your offer. On your knees, slut." She knew what was coming. She dropped to her knees as both men unzipped their jeans and dropped them, thumbed their jockeys down to their knees and began to stroke their cocks to hardness. The poor adolescent swallowed as she watched the two poles spring to life and get bigger and bigger. "Wayne, my man, you may go first," said Joe. "Open wide, slut-girl." Tiffany reluctantly opened her mouth, and Wayne Brody slid his massive black hard-on in between those sweet girl lips and over her tongue. Tiffany had been forced to give enough blow jobs in her young life that she knew what to do, and to make it go quickly. She reached out and began to fondle Wayne's huge, hanging nutsack with one hand, while using the other to stroke his shaft. She made her mouth into a vacuum, sucking the engorged purple head of his cock like a hungry baby. "Oh, fuck, man, this chick knows how to suck some fuckin' dick!" Wayne practically yelled. Tiffany worked her hands and her mouth on the black man's equipment, and soon could feel his balls start to move upwards, just as she felt the head get even bigger. She knew he was about to shoot his sperm down her throat, and braced herself for the horrible onslaught of unwanted jism. She had not been paying attention to Joe, and had not seen that while she was giving Wayne the blow job of his life, the older janitor had been stroking his own dick, harder and harder. "Oh, man, I'm gonna cum!" Wayne snorted. "Do the drill, man!" Joe suddenly barked. And instantly, Wayne pulled his cock out of Tiffany's suctioning mouth. It exited with a pop, and Tiffany went wide-eyed with surprise. At that moment, Joe stepped forward and aimed his cock right between Tiffany's eyes, and Wayne grabbed his own pole and began pumping it. Before she could react, the two janitors were showering her face with hot, sticky semen. She started to pull back, but her head only moved a fraction of an inch before it met Principal White's hands. They clasped the sides of her head and held it in place firmly, completely immobile. "Unnnnh! Unnnnh!" the two maintenance men grunted. 'Take my cum, whore! You fuckin' scumbag racist white trash piece o fuckin' shit!" The icky goo splattered all over the cheerleader's pretty face. It landed in her blonde hair, on her forehead, in her eyes, on her nose, and one big nasty glob went straight into her mouth before she closed it. Her cheeks were coated, and it dripped down to her chin. "Fuck! Fuck!" the two men shouted as they jacked their dicks frantically and the cum shot out onto the kneeling girl. Finally, they were done. Tiffany began to raise her hand to wipe the noxious slime away, but White caught her hand in midair. "Do not touch your face, slut. If you touch one molecule of that cum, then you will get the caning as well. 100 strokes, and fuck the cheerleading. I mean it, whore. We'll take turns on you till you pass out, then we'll wake you up and start again. You won't sit down for 2 weeks!" he hissed. Tiffany dropped her hand. She stood up. Her face was a mask of white semen; it covered her like a glazed donut. She knew she would be told what to do next, and awaited her instructions. White handed her the T-shirt. "Put this on carefully," he told her, "so you don't smear your new makeup." Tiffany slowly poked her head through the neck hole and got her arms through, and slid the shirt down over her bare breasts without disturbing the semen that coated her face. "Mmm, let's see..." White said. "I think it's a little much." He reached out a finger and wiped a glob of jism off the girl's forehead. "Open up," he told her, and when she obediently opened her mouth, he stuck the gross finger in. Tiffany didn't need to be told what to do, and she sucked the slime off the finger and swallowed it with a grimace. She felt the nasty substance slide down her throat. Joe stepped over and did the same, followed by Wayne. After three partial "cleanings," Tiffany's face still had heavy samplings of the janitors' semen practically everywhere, but not as thick as it had been. "OK, that will do," White said. "Have you learned your lesson about making racist jokes, Miss Sperm-Face?" he taunted. "Yes, sir. I'm very sorry," she mumbled. "OK, I'm going to walk you back to class. You still do not have permission to wipe any of that off your face. In fact, you will keep it there for the rest of the day and let it dry like that. If anyone asks, say you got into a paste fight with your sister. I'll have Steph back you up. I will check on you throughout the day, and if you've disobeyed, Joe and Wayne and I will take you down to the boiler room after school. You cannot even imagine the pain of all three of us flaying that butt of yours with all our strength. Don't even try." "Yes, sir." White winked at the two maintenance men, who grinned. He took Tiffany by the arm and marched her out of the office and down the hall, back to Mr. Chambers' creative writing class. Together they stepped into the room. "Excuse us, Mr. Chambers," the principal said. "Young Tiffany here went and got into a paste fight with her sister. As if the two of them were eight years old!" The class looked at Tiffany and burst into explosive laughter. "I've told her as her punishment she has to wear the paste all day. Maybe instead of having a seat, she should stand at attention." Mr. Chambers, who was not part of White's inner circle of sexual abusers, nonetheless understood that Tiffany was to be humiliated further as punishment. "Indeed," he said coldly. "Front and center, Miss Daniels. And face the class." Tiffany, blushing crimson under her white mask, did as she was told. Mr. Chambers continued where he had left off, talking to the class about poetry. Tiffany wanted to die. And it only got worse, as two boys in the front row kept staring and staring at her face. She knew them only slightly, Tom and Mike. Mike leaned over to Tom and whispered and they both laughed and nodded and resumed their staring. Then Mike stared at her until she made eye contact, and the second she did, he moved his finger across his own cheek and into his own mouth, then made a yucky face. She didn't get it at first, but when she glanced over at Tom, he made his mouth into a round O and quickly mimed giving a blow job. They were signalling to her, without Chambers seeing them, that they had figured out it was cum on her face, not paste. Quickly, Mike scrawled a note and slipped it surreptitiously to Jackie, the girl sitting behind him. She read it, then looked right at Tiffany and made a face like she was spitting out poison. Tiffany quickly looked above everyone's head, to avoid the shameful eye contact, but not before she saw Jackie pass the note to a boy named Tim sitting next to her. Tim burst out "Ewwww! Gross!" Chambers paused in mid-sentence and glared at Tim. "What is so gross, Mr. Baltz?" he spat. Tim had started to laugh, and didn't answer. "Is that a note, Mr. Baltz?" "Uh, yes sir, it is." "Well if it has taken your fancy so much more than the poetry of Emily Dickinson, why don't you stand up and read it out loud?" "Uh, are you sure you want me to?" asked Tim. "Yes. This instant." Tim stood up and held the note out in front of him. "It says, 'I don't think that's paste. I think ...." "NOOOOOO!!!" Tiffany shouted. She sprang toward the boy she barely knew, covering the few feet between them in an instant, and ripped the note from his hand. "Miss Daniels!" Chamber barked. "Give me that note this instant or you will spend the next month in detention with Principal White!" Tiffany knew that would be about the worst possible scenario. She considered eating the note, but knew that would earn the same punishment. Defeated, she hung her head and handed her teacher the note. The class was now buzzing and whispering, and Tiffany could sense the gossip spreading rapidly. "Miss Daniels, see me in the hall," Chambers said. The hang-dog cheerleader, still wearing the ugly clothes and the face mask of janitor sperm, followed him. "Obviously this note is nonsense," Chambers said, oblivious to the truth that everyone else had gleaned. "And I'm sorry those boys embarrassed you. Please, go to the restroom and wash your face. This is simply too much to inflict on someone." "I can't, sir. Principal White told me I had to wear the paste the rest of the day." "Very well then. Go back in and take a seat. I'll deal with anyone else who acts up." But she knew she still had to face three more classes, more students, more breaks in the hallway. And even those who didn't guess, who just passed her by, Tiffany would know what the white goop was that coated her beautiful face. NUMBER 5 THE ONE WITH THE UNBROKEN CIRCLE The knocks on the hotel door were sharp. Fourteen-year-old Zoe Fox jumped a little, even though she was expecting room service. She muted the TV, checked to make sure she was decent in the terry cloth robe the hotel provided, and opened the door. "Oh, excuse me," said the older man standing there. "You're not room service," Zoe said. "And you're not my friend Bert," he said. "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong room." "That's OK," she said, starting to close the door. "Wait a minute," he said quickly. "You're Zoe Fox, aren't you?" She paused. "Uh, yeah, how did you know?" "Well, I know your mom and dad very well. And you are just the spitting image of your mom when she was your age. And of course there's that glitter tattoo on your neck that says ZOE." "Oh, yeah," she said, her hand unconsciously fluttering up to the temporary tattoo. "But, uh, how do you know my mom and dad?" "I was just downstairs with them. My name is Roger White. I used to be their principal. Well, actually, I still am the principal at Daniels High School. And you, young lady, are as beautiful as your mother ever was!" Zoe blushed sweetly, smiled and looked down at the carpet. Roger White continued to spin his bullshit spell for the naive teen. "My goodness yes," he said, trying to sound like an innocent grandfather type. "I ran into your mom and dad at the 20th reunion and we were talking about old times, and then I had to come up here and meet an old friend of mine. What are the odds I'd accidentally knock on your door by mistake?" Actually, the odds were pretty fucking good, White thought to himself, considering he'd gotten a tip from the desk clerk at the Beverly Marriott hotel, a member of his network. Hayden and Tiffany Fox had checked into the hotel that afternoon for their 20th class reunion, and brought with them their daughter, Zoe. White had not gone anywhere near the ballroom where the reunion was being held; he knew Tiffany would freak if she saw him, even though of course he still had the tapes after all these years. Instead, he had gambled that Zoe would be left alone in their hotel room, and made his way straight there. Now here she was, and oh, my, what a tender little prize she was, White thought. At 14, she had not developed the memorable set of tits that her mother had had when White had first debauched Tiffany Daniels, but Zoe had a ripe, succulent young teenager's body, just begging for the attentions of an old pervert. She had her mother's blonde hair, although cut very short in the style girls wore these days, and her eyes were a little rounder, not quite as almond-shaped as her mother's. And she didn't carry herself with the haughty superiority Tiffany had had before White and his cronies went to work on her. There was something a little more hesitant about Zoe. Not that that dissuaded White for a moment. He could feel his cock stirring in his pants, for the first time in a long time. Erections for a guy in his 60s were fewer but sweeter. "Oh, the stories I could tell you about your mom," White said smoothly, and smiled with what he hoped was a genial twinkle. "She was quite the girl at Daniels High!" The hotel room door seemed to be swinging open of its own accord. Zoe knew she should not be letting a strange man come in when she was all alone, but he seemed like such a nice, harmless guy, like her Grandpa Daniels or something. And he was a school principal. And most important, he had known her mother when she was Zoe's age, and could tell her the truth. And that was what Zoe wanted more than anything. Zoe knew there was something different about her parents, especially her mother. Sometimes her mom and dad went away for the weekend, and when she came back, her mother had a faraway look in her eyes that lasted for days. Sometimes she would hear her dad talking on the phone, and even though she never quite caught the details, it seemed as if he was telling dirty jokes about her mom, then laughing in a creepy way. And then there was her Aunt Stephanie, whom she hadn't seen in years. Every time she mentioned Aunt Stephanie, or asked her mom about high school, her mom would get quiet, change the subject, or sometimes snap at Zoe. So the opportunity to hear about her mother's high school days was just too good to pass up. "Come on in, please," she heard herself saying, and something about inviting an older man into her hotel room while she was wearing just a robe and her underwear gave her a thrill she had never felt before. White walked in and sat comfortably in a chair facing the bed. Zoe, having nowhere else to sit, sat on the bed, making sure to keep her knees together so her robe wouldn't gape open between her legs. But even thinking about doing this, protecting herself from a man, gave her a funny feeling again, right between her legs. It felt juicy somehow, and bad and good at the same time. "So what was my mom like in high school?" she asked. "What has she told you, sweetie?" "Nothing. She won't talk about it. She gets all weird." "Oh, she was the most beautiful girl in the history of Daniels High, and I've been there more than 30 years. She was head cheerleader, and starred in all the school plays, and had lots of friends. And the boys were all just crazy about her. But then, I bet the boys are all just crazy about you, too," White said. Zoe blushed again. "Like I would know," she said, with more bitterness than she had intended. "Any time a guy gets anywhere near me, Mom freaks. She says I can't date till I go to college. If a boy even calls the house, she hangs up on him. She is totally paranoid." White nodded sympathetically. "That must be rough. How does it make you feel?" "It's not like I want to go out on dates every night. I mean I'm still 14. But there's guys at school that I know kind of like me, but my mom scares them off. And I'm afraid no guy is ever gonna want me cause of my mom." It was so easy to open up to Mr. White, she thought. "I can see that," he said softly. "I'm surprised, cause your mom had plenty of dates. Your dad, Hayden, is a lucky guy, cause he had plenty of competition." There was a lull in the conversation. "I've got an idea," White said as if it had just occurred to him. "If you're not busy, why don't we drive over to the high school. I can take you on a little tour, and tell you all the stories about your mom when she was a student there, lot of funny little tales. I could even call up some of her old teachers who knew her, and they could meet us there." "It's like 10 o'clock," Zoe said. "And no way Mom would let me leave the hotel without her permission." "The reunion party is gonna last until at least midnight," White said. "Since I'm the principal, I've got the keys and can let us in the school. And you know as well as I do that if you ask your Mom, she'll say no. We can get over there and get back here by 11:30, you can be in bed when they come upstairs. They won't be the wiser. But you will be." And he winked at her. Zoe's stomach felt all fluttery. She wanted so badly to do this, to go with nice Mr. White and learn all about Mom's high school days, but she was afraid of being caught. "It's up to you, sweetie," he said. "But come on, time's a-wastin'." "Let's do it!" Zoe cried out, surprising herself. Before she could change her mind she grabbed her clothes off the floor and dashed into the bathroom to change. White used the moment to grab his hardon through his trousers and squeeze - God that felt great! - and to quickly call a few old pals on his cell phone and have them head for the school immediately. Zoe burst out of the bathroom, dressed. Her heart was pounding, and her nipples seemed like they were hot and tingly. And that juiciness was still down there. She knew what it meant, she and her girlfriends had been over all this. But she didn't care. She was off on an adventure! "You look lovely," White said to the 14-year-old as he escorted her out the door and out of the hotel. She beamed with pride, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to drape a protective arm around her shoulder as they walked along. ********************************* "You're awfully quiet, Zoe," Tiffany said the next morning. She turned around in the front seat and looked at her daughter in the back. "I'm fine," Zoe said. "Were you OK by yourself last night? You were asleep when we got back." "Yeah, I was fine." Tiffany's parental radar was pinging. Something was up with Zoe. But she knew that she'd never get an answer out of the girl with direct questioning. And she did seem fine. In fact, there was some sort of indefinable glow to Zoe this morning, Tiffany thought. "Not long till the airport," Hayden said. "We'll get this car turned in and then back to Atlanta." Zoe sat quietly in the back seat of the rental car. Quiet on the outside at least. Inside, she had never felt so confused, so excited, so alive! She understood so much now, so much about her mother, so much about why grown-ups were so freaky about sex, so much about life. And, she also knew, she understood so little. But there was time to learn. Roger had said he would visit her in Atlanta, they would email each other and work out a system for meeting. And there was her Aunt Stephanie. God, she could hardly wait to sneak a call to Aunt Stephanie, and share with her what had happened, what she knew now! Aunt Stephanie was a total slut, who liked all kinds of nasty things! She felt like she was going to explode! Zoe Fox caught her mother Tiffany's eye, and made her face deliberately blank and smiling, showing her mother nothing of the tumult that raged within her. She squeezed her thighs together, and remembered last night, with Roger and the others. Her little pussy was sore, but happy. She squeezed again, and this time she got the angle just right, putting pressure right there, on the little button. She smiled a secret smile. "Let's see if we can get something on the radio," Hayden Fox said. The pre-set dial in the rental popped onto a Texas station specializing in old-time country and gospel, and caught Willie Nelson and family in mid-song: "Will the circle be unbroken/ By and by Lord, by and by There's a better land a-waiting In the sky Lord in the sky." Tiffany turned back and faced the windshield, a worried frown on her face. Hayden punched the radio buttons trying to find something else. Zoe Fox squeezed her thighs together again, and felt the electric thrill race through her. She thought of Roger, and of doing all the things he wanted her to do. She smiled again. THE END "Are you crazy/ Are you high/ Or just an ordinary guy? Have you done all you can do? Are you with me, doctor?" "Doctor Wu," by Steely Dan __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? 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