The "musicians" of the rock band thrashed away for all they were worth on the tiny stage of the Greenwood High School gymnasium, but their collective efforts produced nothing more than a wash of reverberating mush as the over-amplified music bounced randomly back and forth off the bare, wooden walls of the box-shaped gym. The kids didn't care, though. They never did. As usual, they just milled around, boys on one side, girls on the other, with the few couples brave enough to dance bouncing awkwardly up and down - more or less in time with the deep throb of the bass - in the centre of the floor.
The walls of the gym were festooned with bright pink balloons; blue and pink streamers created a curtain over each doorway; a number of bowls of pink grapefruit punch (three of them now, predictably, spiked with vodka) sat on a long table against one wall; and a large banner proclaiming "Happy Valentine's Day" in large pink letters (the "i", of course, dotted with a heart) hung over the stage where the band was playing.
A typical Valentine's Day dance at Greenwood High.
In keeping with the theme, Stacy arrived at the dance wearing pink and blue. She was beautifully decked out in an extremely short pink skirt (no more than four inches below her bum) and a sleeveless, powder blue blouse. This, along with the pink knee-socks and white high-heeled shoes gave her an appealing, little girl look, which was enhanced by the fact that she was wearing her hair in a pony tail.
The look, however, hadn't been her choice. Very little was, these days. The outfit had been selected by Sharon to create this effect. In fact, Sharon was now frequently picking out which clothes Stacy should wear for specific occasions. Nothing too startlingly different from Stacy's usual mode of dress, but always a bit more revealing than Stacy would have chosen on her own. Gradually, over the course of the last couple of months, Sharon had been taking over various aspects of Stacy's life in general. Stacy had objected at first, but Sharon had made the usual threats, and Stacy had inevitably capitulated. As well, Sharon was now able to compel Stacy's obedience by threatening to cut off her supply of Gary's drugs. By now, Stacy was reliant upon Gary's mixture, which allowed her to get excited when having sex; without it, her enforced promiscuity would have been - and had been, before the session with Ashley - extremely painful. She was becoming, in Sharon's words, "well trained".
A well trained slut.
As it was, the combination of drugs and scotch allowed her to get at least some enjoyment from the sex, a vital advantage since she was having it so regularly. As well as the large number of guys she was still required to fuck to meet her quota of sixty-five before the end of the year, her blackmailers had ordered her not to refuse repeat business. Every time someone she had already had sex with asked for more, she had to say yes (provided, of course, that the asker was willing to pay the five dollars). As a result, she was now fucking and sucking daily, sometimes two, three or even four times. Inevitably, this led to her getting a reputation for putting out, which in turn led more guys to try to fuck her. On the surface, nothing had changed, and she still held her position in the school hierarchy, but among many if not most of the guys at school, the word was out: Stacy Richards was a hot slut, who dropped her panties at the slightest pretext. This was not, strictly speaking, entirely true. In the last couple of weeks, Stacy had stopped wearing panties (another of Sharon's "suggestions"); it was too much trouble getting them on and off, and too many pairs were ruined. Pants were also a thing of the past; the new Stacy only wore short skirts.
The new Stacy was also looking for a guy to fuck. She stood in a corner of the gym next to the door leading to the boy's locker room, playing absently with her heavily decorated charm bracelet (thirty-three bright, shiny "F"s), and scanning the crowd for a likely candidate. She tried to be inconspicuous as she looked around; she had already run into one of her previous "partners" in the parking lot, and had been forced, upon his request, to give him a blow-job. A crumpled, sticky five dollar bill in her purse testified to his willingness to pay. If any others saw her in here - particularly dressed as she was - she would probably have to serve them as well. The blow-job had been made all the more unpleasant by the fact that she had been unable to drink any of the scotch prepared for her by Gary. Without the excitement caused by the drugs, it had been a humiliating and painful event. She was not going to be caught unprepared again. After wiping the sperm off her face (she had been unable to swallow all of it), she had taken a number of swigs from the flask in her purse. Already, she was feeling the warm tingle at the base of her stomach, and her breathing was becoming quick and shallow.
She scanned the crowd, desperate as she became more and more excited. Who to fuck?
Gary looked on, smiling as he saw Stacy - dressed up like some kind of wet dream - call someone over to her. It was Paul Baxter, from grade 12. A tall guy with glasses and bad skin; kind of quiet. He watched as Stacy pulled him closer and whispered something in his ear. A few second later, Paul blushed a furious red, but allowed himself to be led into the locker room. The couple disappeared from sight.
"She's found one already?" Gary turned. Sharon had come up behind him as he had been watching Stacy at work. The short girl was holding a glass of punch. She was almost shouting to be heard over the roar of the band.
"Yeah," he answered, shouting in reply. "Paul Baxter; from Rhenquist's French class."
"Didn't take long," Sharon commented, taking a swallow of spiked punch.
Gary grinned at her. "Not the way you dressed her up tonight. Nice job."
Sharon nodded at the compliment, but didn't return the grin. Something was bothering her. "You've made it too easy for her," she complained. "The drugs make it too much fun. She's enjoying herself too much."
Gary's grin just widened. "Well," he answered, "maybe I should let you in on a little secret." He looked around, as if anyone could hear them over the band. Sharon just stared at him, waiting.
"After the first couple of weeks, I stopped putting the drugs in the scotch. Since the end of January, she's just been drinking the scotch. Straight."
Sharon's eyes widened in surprise. "But... that's two weeks now. She hasn't said... she didn't..."
"Right," Gary interrupted. "That's the beauty of it. She gets horny now completely on her own. All it takes is a little scotch, and she's ready to jump into bed with anybody. Soon, I'm going to start changing the type of alcohol. By the end of the year, she'll turn into a slut every time she touches a drop of alcohol. It's all part of the training."
Sharon's surprise turned into amusement. "Gary," she chuckled, "that's perfect." She began to laugh outright.
"What's so funny?" It was Neil. He was already half drunk.
Gary looked over at the laughing Sharon. "You tell him," he suggested to her. "I think I'll send a few more guys Stacy's way. I think I see the Schaefer brothers."
He turned and walked off as Sharon began to explain to Neil exactly what it was that was so funny.
Frank Schaefer shoved open the swinging door to the locker room and ponderously squeezed his bulk through the doorway. He was followed closely by his younger brother, Simon. The Schaefer brothers were both extremely fat - each weighing over 250 pounds - and would have been fatter still if they had not been quite as tall as they were. Still, even at well over six feet, they were each enormously obese. They were a number of years older than the other students at Greenwood, having been frequently held back grades while their contemporaries advanced and graduated. Their size was matched only by their stupidity, and they had become something of a joke at Greenwood. Fortunately for them, that same size protected them from any real bullying, and they were generally left alone. That was why they were so surprised when Gary approached them at the dance and suggested that it might be a good idea for them to go into the locker room "to check things out". They had been puzzled at this, but they found most things puzzling, so they just shrugged their shoulders and ambled into the locker room.
They were greeted by the sound of a female voice as they moved slowly down the short passageway leading to the main changing room.
"Oh... yes... yes... yes."
The voice was low and hoarse with lust. The Schaefer brothers hurried forward as best they could and peered around the corner into the main part of the room.
"Oh yes... fuck me... fuck me..."
It was Stacy Richards! The brothers looked on in amazement. Some guy was lying back on a bench while Stacy Richards - THE Stacy Richards - slid up and down on his hard cock. Her short skirt was pulled up around her waist, and they could clearly see where the cock slid in and out of her moist cunt.
"Oh... oh... oh..."
She had stopped formulating words, and was just panting and whimpering as the pace sped up. Stacy's pretty, blue blouse was undone and she was frantically mauling her own tits. Her chest glistened with sweat as her lithe body bobbed up and down like a yo-yo on the impaling cock.
"Holy cow!" Simon, the younger of the two brothers, was unable to contain himself. Frank swatted him on the back of the head, but it was too late; the damage was done.
Stacy stopped bouncing and looked up in shock. Someone was watching! Beneath her, Paul struggled, trying to sit up. She fought to hold him down - he was just about to come! - but when he saw Frank and Simon standing there with their mouths gaping open, he cursed and scrambled back along the bench. His cock pulled out of Stacy's sopping pussy just before he came, spraying sperm onto her stomach and legs.
"No!" Stacy grabbed at it and tried to push it back into her cunt before it stopped spraying; IT DIDN'T COUNT unless he came inside of her. But Paul was too quick, twisting out from under her and scrambling quickly to his feet. Flushing red with embarrassment, he pulled his pants up, pushed blindly past the Schaefer brothers and ran out the door and into the gym. There was a brief surge of bad rock music, and then the door slammed shut behind him with a loud bang.
Stacy sat straddling the bench, panting with rage and frustration as the still-warm sperm dribbled down her stomach and coagulated in her pussy hair. IT DIDN'T COUNT! And she was still so horny...
She heard a sound in front of her and looked up. The Schaefer brothers, mortified and confused, were turning to leave.
"Wait," she cried.
Frank turned and looked at her. 'Oh god', she thought, 'the Schaefers.' She felt like crying as she regarded their obese bodies and vapid faces. Outwardly, however, she smiled her most seductive smile and - feeling like an absolute slut - gestured for the two brothers to come forward. Her left hand crept up and tweaked her nipple; an involuntary shudder of pleasure ran through her body.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad...
"The Schaefer's?" Karen burst out laughing. "That's great. Just perfect."
"Not only that," Gary continued, "but I think that the younger one has fallen in love with her. He's already asked her out for the weekend." He was lounging back in his seat with his feet up on his desk beside his computer.
"And?" The question came from Neil. He sat up beside Karen on Gary's bed.
"Well, she accepted," Sharon answered. "For five dollars, of course." The four teenagers burst out laughing.
"Wouldn't want them to think she was cheap, or anything like that."
They were relaxing in Gary's bedroom, going over the updated database on Stacy's "conquests" and entering new information. Gary had been forced to add a new category for repeat performances. At the top of the list was Tim Myers and Dennis Baxter, two guys from Stacy's Recreation class; they had each fucked her sixteen times.
"But the best part," Sharon continued as the laughter died down, "was that he wanted to take her out in public; to a movie of something."
This brought fresh laughter.
"So what did she do?" Karen asked. The normally shy girl was beginning to feel more confident around these people. They were her friends.
"What could she do? She came on all seductive and told him how she would rather spend her time with him alone; in private, so they could have more fun. So, he ended up inviting him to his place for a little 'fun'."
Another round of laughter.
"So what about the latest round of pictures?" Neil asked a few moments later. "The first set did pretty well. Any luck with the new ones."
Gary smiled crookedly. "Oh yes," he answered. "'Cumshot' magazine brought the entire series we shot with her sucking you off. You're going to be famous; or at least your cock is going to be famous."
Neil was impressed. "Cool."
"How much?" Sharon asked.
"Six hundred," Gary answered. "'Young Things' also bought the set with her and the dildo. They'll also be publishing the photos from the first set in this months' issue. That's another $750 to split up. There's a couple others as well."
Karen looked on unbelieving as Gary began to split up the money. She had only become involved in the group's activities after the first set of pictures had been taken, and she had no idea they were making so much money.
"Uh... guys?" She had an idea. "Maybe we can get Ashley involved in this somehow. I could use some of that money."
Gary looked up at her. "Would she do it? Would she pose for pictures?"
Karen thought for a moment. "Well, it might take some convincing; particularly if she knows they're going to be published..."
"Oh, don't tell her that," Sharon interrupted. "Stacy doesn't know. We got her to sign a release one night while she was high on Gary's drugs. All she knows is that we're taking the pictures for our own use."
A slow grin began to creep across Karen's face. That was possible... and she sure could use the money. "I'll see what I can do."
Gary nodded, and went back to counting the money. The four teenagers sat in silence for a few moments, contemplating their profits.
"So," Neil said eventually. "What's this I hear about another football party?"
Stacy blew into the whistle, signalling the end of the Recreation class. At the "request" of a couple of her students (ie. Tim & Dennis) and with the subsequent "encouragement" of Sharon, she was dressed in an ultra-short tennis skirt which barely reached four inches below the bottom curves of her ass. She had been wearing this outfit to Rec class for the last few weeks, and the male contingent of the class had been enjoying the show, particularly when she had to bend down to pick up sports equipment. At first, she had been mortified, and flushed red every time she caught some of her students staring at her, but after a while she learned to ignore the attention, or, at least, live with it. It might not have been so bad if she had been allowed to wear panties.
The class dispersed and Stacy wandered into the office space set aside for the Rec instructors and began to prepare for Tim and Dennis's inevitable visit. She had been fucking and sucking them the both of them weekly ever since first term. Closing the door behind her, Stacy walked quickly to her bag and pulled out a thermos. She did not want to be caught before she could drug herself with Gary's mixture. She knew it made her act like a slut, but what else could she do? Sex without the drugs was painful and humiliating; the drugs at least took care of the pain.
Stacy opened the thermos and took a drink, grimacing at the taste. Beer! She hated beer. During the last couple of months, Gary had, for some reason, been varying the type of alcohol in which he mixed the drugs. At first, ithad always been scotch whisky, but lately he had gone through vodka, gin, wine and now beer. Stacy had wanted to ask why, but was too scared. Of her three tormentors, Gary was by far the scariest. Sharon was a sadistic bitch and thoroughly enjoyed dominating Stacy and Neil was constantly forcing her to have sex with him, but there was something weird about Gary. Something dangerous. It was best just to do what he said and not ask questions.
She took another swallow of the beer and sat down on the desk as the drugs began to take their desired effect. Slowly, but inevitably, she felt the now familiar fog gradually envelop her brain, disassociating herself from her body. Just as inevitably, she felt the warm tingling begin in her groin and then spread steadily upwards into her breasts. One more drink and then she put the top back on the thermos; it was already over half empty, and she still had a session with the Schaefer brothers later that afternoon. Normally she wasn't worried about running out, but it had been a busy day; Pat Saunders had fucked her up the ass in the woods out behind the playing field on the way to school that morning, and Neil had forced her to give him a blow job under a desk in the Study Hall over lunch. Neither had counted. Just as Tim and Dennis wouldn't count. Just as the Schaefer's wouldn't count.
The feelings of arousal began to increase. She looked over at the clock, impatient. What was keeping them? If they didn't come soon, she would be late for the Schaefers. An involuntary shudder of pleasure ran through her body at the thought of the two obese brothers. They were disgustingly fat and stupid, but they could sure fuck! Stacy hung her head in shame as she remembered her slutty behaviour at their place last weekend, but she couldn't help it. She was still being blackmailed by Gary and his friends, and it was the drugs which made it possible for her to carry out her orders. She couldn't help it if she was turning into a slut. But the Schaefers...
Stacy glanced back up at the clock. Still no sign of the boys. She reached down, hiked up her short skirt and began to rub her fingers over her bare pussy...
"Have you seen Stacy?"
Gary looked at his watch and smirked.
"It's Friday," he answered. "She should be taking care of the her Rec class 'students' right about now."
"Oh, right," Sharon nodded, feeling dumb. Stacy had been having afternoon fuck sessions with those two guys in her class for months now. She would have to call her later.
"Well, how about Karen?" she asked. "I've got to confirm things for the football party next weekend. She has to make sure Ashley is available."
"I haven't... oh, there she is."
Gary pointed towards the far end of the hallway. Karen had just come around the corner, followed closely by Ashley. The two girls seemed to be having something of an argument. Ashley seemed to be almost in tears about something. A few seconds later, Karen said something and pointed towards a side room - the biology lab. Ashley shook her head at first, but complied a few moments later, entering the room. Karen followed, shutting the door behind her.
Sharon started walking down the hall towards the room, but Gary grabbed her arm and steered her to a different door.
"What are you doing?"
"There's a storage room with a small window leading into the biology lab," he explained. "We can get into it through here." He led her across a different classroom and through a doorway in the rear.
"Let's see what's happening."
Mr. Edgar wandered about, confused and lost in the seemingly endless maze of narrow hallways behind the school gymnasium. As a math teacher, he had found little reason to venture into this part of the school in the past, and he was having more than a little difficulty trying to locate Mr. Sprauge, the football coach. The two teachers were in the course of their yearly argument regarding academic eligibility and certain members of the football team. This year, Sprauge was particularly upset about the failure of his star receiver to successfully complete Mr. Edgar's remedial math course, and was making life difficult for the entire faculty. Edgar was willing to compromise, but he had to find the football coach first.
The portly teacher came to a short hallway which ended in a closed door. It looked like an office. He ambled down it and, hoping to find someone to help him out, pushed open the door. He poked his head in to look around and his jaw dropped open with amazement. Sitting on the edge of the desk was Stacy Richards; the beautiful, blonde Stacy Richards who had done so well in his math class last term (highest marks ever!). The Stacy Richards who had sat in the front row of the class each Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning, with her golden blonde hair and her angelic green eyes...
She wasn't looking quite so angelic now.
She had hiked up her short, white skirt, exposing her naked crotch and was busily rubbing her left hand up and down over her pussy lips. Mr. Edgar could see moisture glistening in the thatch of blonde pussy hair. As he watched, she bunched three fingers together and began to slide them in and out of her wet pussy. Her right hand was similarly occupied with her breasts, which were more or less fully exposed through the unfastened buttons of her blouse. She alternately cupped, squeezed and pinched her tits, paying particular attention to the firm nipples. Stacy's head was thrown back, her eyes closed and her slightly lips parted as she masturbated.
The shocked math teacher froze, paralysed with indecision. What to do? Should he rush in and put a stop to this outrageous behaviour? His mind said yes, but his quickly hardening cock argued otherwise. This situation could easily be mis-interpreted; the wave of politically correct hysteria presently sweeping through the schools could see him losing his position as a teacher at even the slightest hint of impropriety. Best not to go in, he decided. He could also slip away quietly, ignoring the incident altogether. His timid nature preferred this course of action, but he found that he was unable to draw himself away from his viewpoint in the doorway. He watched as Stacy brought herself closer and closer to an orgasm. What should he do? Best to slip away quietly, he finally decided.
Mr. Edgar turned to leave, but just as he did, he heard footsteps behind him moving closer. Sounded like students. Caught! Panicked, he looked around; there was nowhere to go except...
Stacy felt the pleasure from her masturbation just begin to crest over into an orgasm when she heard a noise at the door. It must be Tim and Dennis. Despite her situation, she found herself welcoming their presence. She was so hot...
She opened her eyes. OMIGOD!! It was Mr. Edgar, the math teacher. All feelings of arousal fled instantly as she froze in shock. What was he doing here? How long had he been watching? Had he seen...
Recovering the power of movement, she quickly allowed her short skirt to fall down over her crotch, and - wiping her hand on her skirt to clear away the pussy juices - she pulled shut her blouse.
She watched as Mr. Edgar quickly shut the door behind himself and moved uncertainly towards her, his face flushed. He looked angry, or... something.
"M-mr. Edgar," she stammered, "I... I didn't know t-that..."
Gary, moving slowly and quietly, brought his face up the small window set in the door between the biology lab class and the science storeroom. He peered through, and, a few seconds later, gestured for Sharon to join him at the window. Inside the biology lab, Karen and Ashley were talking, maybe arguing. Ashley was standing on one side of the room with her arms crossed in front of her, looking away from Karen, who was leaning up against a lab table on the other side of the room. Gary and Sharon could just hear their voices, but they were unable to make out any words, as the thick door effectively muffled the sound.
Ashley sounded angry. From where they watched, the two observers could see tears in her eyes. The beautiful brunette turned briefly to spit something out at Karen and then turned away again. Karen, on the other hand, was speaking slowly and soothingly; she seemed to be repeating herself over and over again.
"What's going on?" Sharon whispered. "What are they fighting about?"
Gary shrugged. "Something about boys, I think. Karen's telling her not to do something."
A few second later, Karen straightened up and walked across the room towards the older girl. Ashley turned away, hiding behind a curtain of thick, reddish-brown hair, but Karen put her hand on the taller girl's shoulder and slowly turned her around.
Ashley was crying now, her eyes red and swollen. She dropped her hands to her sides and said one word. Gary couldn't hear it, but he understood well enough: "please."
Karen slowly brought her hand up to the other girl's cheek and brushed away a tear. Ashley flinched, but did not pull away. They stood like this for a few moments, Ashley crying quietly and Karen tenderly running her fingers up and down the other girl's cheek.
Then, slowly, Karen slipped her hand behind Ashley's head and brought her face down to meet her own in a kiss. The two girl's lips met...
The math teacher cast around for something to say or do, but his tongue seemed frozen, thick and useless in his mouth. All he could think of was the picture Stacy had presented a few moments ago as he had spied upon her masturbating. Now, she was cringing away from him, eyes wide with fear. What was he going to do? If someone caught him in this position he would lose his job for sure.
Taking a deep breath, he gathered himself to speak. After all, he reasoned, he was the teacher here. He was not the one who had been caught doing something wrong. Her behaviour merited expulsion, at the very least. He had a responsibility! Why, it could have been one of the younger students who had stumbled across the little slut rather than a mature adult such as himself! This was a serious matter indeed.
He opened his mouth to speak...
Stacy watched apprehensively as a number of expressions flitted across the Edgar's jowled face. He was beet red and trembling, but she could see that he was working himself up into a rage. In a moment, he would open his mouth and she would be finished at Greenwood.
"Miss Richards," he said at last, his voiced choking slightly. "I'm afraid I have n-no choice but to report this incident to the principal."
Stacy sagged back against the desk. That was it; she was screwed now. She almost burst into tears. To be caught now, after all this time...
"This sort of behaviour is not to be tolerated on the schoolgrounds... or anywhere, for that matter. If someone else had walked in..."
Stacy looked up at him as he continued to rant: the rumpled tweed suit; the thick grey mustache; the short, fat body... One chance. She glanced over at the thermos sitting near her on the desk, but there was no time for it.
"Mr. Edgar," she interrupted, slipping her tits out from under her blouse and cupping them upwards towards him. The teacher stopped talking and stared at her, eyes bulging.
"Do you like what you see?" Her voice was low and throaty as she tried to sound seductive.
Mr. Edgar could only stammer as he watched the beautiful teenage student cup and massage her firm young titties for him. Such beautiful tits! He felt himself being drawn in as she straightened up and began walking towards him. It had been so long!
His hands itched to reach out and feel...
Stacy's confidence began to return as she watched his reactions. The math teacher had now stopped his attempts to speak and was staring intently at her breasts as she massaged them. Continuing to speak in a soft, seductive voice, she moved slowly towards him.
"I bet you'd like to touch them," she invited. "They're your's, if you like." By this time, she was directly in front of him. She pushed her tits upwards, offering them to him. 'Please' she thought, 'please take them.'
Slowly, his hands reached up and took hold of the offered tits. Stacy moved her hands away as he began knead them. Despite the fact that she felt no arousal (the previous effect of the drugs had fled completely), she forced herself to moan and writhe as though his hands on her tits was getting her hot.
In fact, nothing of the sort was happening, but she couldn't let him know that. Without the drugs, the humiliation of the situation was almost overwhelming, but she couldn't give into it; she was fighting for her life at Greenwood, and she would do anything to keep Edgar from reporting her. She was going to give him the fuck of his life!
Dennis grumbled angrily at his friend Tim as he ran across the now empty gymnasium. If he hadn't wasted his time waiting for the jerk, he would be with Stacy now. As it was, Tim had not bothered to inform Dennis of the fact that he had a doctor's appointment after class, and wouldn't be able to make their weekly meeting with the bitch. Dennis would have to go on his own.
Dennis slowed to a walk as he entered the passageway which led to the instructor's room. He hoped Stacy was still waiting. She'd better be. He saw as he approached that the door was open a crack; he pushed it open and peered inside.
Stacy was there, alright, but she wasn't waiting. She was perched, straddling, over Mr. Edgar (THE MATH TEACHER!) as he sat behind the desk. Stacy was facing outward, with her back towards the sweating teacher, so Dennis had an unobstructed view of her cunt as it slid up and down on Edgar's erect penis. He also had an unobstructed view of Stacy as she propelled herself up and down: her flushed, vacant face; her hands, one furiously mauling her exposed tits, which were already red and splotchy from abuse, and the other bent over her shoulder and wrapped around Edgar's neck to steady herself; her long, sleek legs, only partially hidden by the short gym-skirt, alternately flexing and relaxing as they moved her sleek body up and down on the math teacher's impaling cock.
She began to make small moaning sounds as she moved. A thin line of drool escaped from between her pouty lips and glistened on her chin as she squirmed and wriggled in lustful abandonment. Beads of sweat...
"What's going on?"
Dennis tore himself away from the activities in the small room and turned to see Ted Reed, a fellow member of the Rec class. Ha! Grinning, Dennis put his fingers to his lips and gestured for the newcomer to put his eye to the crack in the door. Ted did so and almost chocked with surprise.
Stacy seemed to be just mounting the crest of an intense orgasm. She stiffened up and leaned back, lifting her legs from the floor and bouncing energetically on the invading penis as it squelched in and out of her gobbling pussy. Behind her, Mr. Edgar grabbed her tits and held on tightly as she thrashed and wriggled her pleasure. Moments later, he too came, shooting his load straight into her sopping cunt.
Ted's mouth hung open as he watched the action. He was frozen in the doorway as Stacy slipped off the exhausted teacher's lap and slid to her knees in front of him. Brushing her blonde hair back from her face, she slipped her mouth over his now-flaccid cock and began sucking it clean. Mr. Edgar could only sit there and moan softly as the teenaged slut gently lapped at his penis and balls.
Then, the inevitable happened. Unable to contain himself, Ted coughed. Stacy jerked her mouth away from the teacher's cock, banging her head against the underside of the desk. Mr. Edgar sprang to his feet, surprisingly limber for a man of his bulk, and rushed out of the room, his face beet red and his pants still down around his ankles. Ted saw him coming and stepped aside, but Dennis was bowled over as Mr. Edgar rushed down the hallway and out of sight.
The kiss lasted for a long time. When it finally broke, Ashley was no longer crying, but, rather, had a strange look on her face. She stared at her blackmailer, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. Staring back, Karen brought her other hand up and slipped it under Ashley's blouse and up to her tits. Ashley tried to pull away, but Karen held her close. Karen began to massage Ashley's breasts under her blouse. The other girl began to tremble, but did not protest.
Again, Karen drew Ashley down for a kiss. This time, Gary thought he saw Ashley parted her lips in anticipation, but he couldn't be sure.
Stacy crouched on her knees, trying to remain silent as she hid under the desk. A thin trickle of sperm seeped out of her cunt and began to run down her leg, but she ignored it. Who was it? What had they seen? Furiously, she tried to do up the buttons of her blouse and straighten out her short skirt. Her heart almost stopped as she heard footsteps coming around the front of the desk. A face appeared: Dennis! Stacy trembled with relief; thank god it was someone who already knew about her.
She started to back out from under the desk, but Dennis gestured for her to remain where she was. What was going on? She froze again as another set of footsteps crossed the room. Tim? It must be... No, it wasn't. Another boy... it was Ted Reed, another of her students, sat down in the same chair Mr. Edgar had occupied a few moments earlier.
"Go ahead," she heard Dennis say. "She loves to suck."
Stacy flushed with anger. That asshole! She started to back out again, but then stopped as Ted pulled his rock-hard cock out of his pants. She stared at it; Ted was a student at Greenwood; he counted against her quota.
"C'mon, slut," Dennis ordered. He bent down and slapped her hard on her exposed ass. "I promised my friend here a blowjob."
Stacy gritted her teeth and tried in vain to recapture any vestige of the arousal she had been experiencing a few moments earlier with the math teacher, but there was nothing left. The intense orgasm along with the shock of being discovered seemed once again to have burned away the effects of drug. She thought longingly of the thermos sitting on top the desk; she had been lucky enough to get a swallow from it while Edgar had pulled down his pants, but it didn't look like she was going to get the chance here.
"Stacy." Dennis leaned over and looked at her from the front of the desk, "I don't have to make any threats, do I?"
Groaning her disgust, Stacy leaned forward and slipped her delicate fingers around the teenager's cock. Ted gasped and tensed up as her pink tongue flicked out and began licking the head. Her other hand went down to her cunt and began rubbing, trying to get herself hot enough to tolerate what she was going to have to do. Once again, she thought longingly about the thermos, but knew that even if she could get to it, she should save it for later on. She was due at the Schaefer's later that afternoon.
She slipped her experienced lips over Ted's leaking cock and began to suck in earnest. This shouldn't take her too long.
Behind her, Dennis began to play with her ass...