Message-ID: <34435asstr$1010023805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Dr. Wu" <doktorwu@yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
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: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

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!?
Send your FREE holiday greetings online!
http://greetings.yahoo.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+