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I didn't write this story, but did enjoy reading it. I couldn't see it on here after a quick search so thought I'd share it. Hope you enjoy it as well.

CHAPTER ONE:

THE ONE WITH THE ANTS IN THE PANTS

Tiffany Daniels squirmed in her seat. Her delectable 16-year-old ass slid forward
and back, forward and back, rubbing against the wood. As she rubbed her butt
against the seat, she crossed and uncrossed her legs.

Tiffany Daniels, high school junior, cheerleader, princess tease, was antsy. Very
antsy indeed.

She swung her right leg over her left, crossing them in mid-thigh, and squeezed
the muscles in her legs. She scooted back an inch in her desk chair. Nothing she
did revealed the terrible itching in her sweet young pussy, the itch that spread
deep up into her virgin asshole. She was afraid that if she wriggled much more,
her embarrassingly short skirt, which was already climbing up her thighs, would
ride up high enough to expose her white panties in front of her teacher and all
her classmates.


Mr. Green, her English teacher, was droning on about Emily Dickinson in front of
the class. Tiffany was too pre-occupied with the uncomfortable feeling in her
pussy and ass to notice how often Green was looking her way. He didn't stop
talking, but he was keeping his eye on the writhing youngster.

What he saw was one of the prettiest, sexiest young girls at Daniels High School.
(Named for Godfrey Daniels, Tiffany's grandfather, making her one of the town's
blue bloods, and one of its biggest snobs.) Even in days past, when Tiffany had
dressed like a typical teenaged girl, she had been a vision of pure desirability.
She stood five feet seven inches, weighed 115 pounds, and had blonde wavy hair
that fell down over her shoulders and gorgeous blue eyes. She had sprouted a
fantastic set of breasts over the last couple of years, perfect g****fruit-sized
beauties that stood out from her chest with the arrogance of youth. Capped with
the kind of large pink nipples that you usually only saw in girlie magazines. Her
slender waist flared out into rounded hips, and from there on down she was
nothing but long, tanned legs. Her cheerleading kept her fit. Her family's money
kept her tanned, with regular trips to a tanning salon, and exquisitely groomed
with regular trips to the best hair stylist in town.

She had been told, frequently, by boys at school that she resembled the tennis
player Anna Kournikova. She figured they were just saying that to get some pussy
- teenaged boys would say or do anything to get some pussy, particularly some as
wonderful as Tiffany's - but it was true, there was a resemblance.

But today, Tiffany was not dressed like the other girls. Just about everybody,
even the rich bitches like Tiff, wore jeans, sneakers and T- shirts to school. It
might as well have been the official school uniform at Daniels High. Tiffany,
however, wore a white blouse that was about one size too small for her, so that
her breasts pushed the front of the blouse out, calling more attention to them. A
plaid pleated skirt was the traditional Catholic schoolgirl look, but this skirt
was much shorter than any Catholic school would ever allow. It fell only a few
inches below the cheeks of her ass, and that's why she was so concerned about it
riding up as she wiggled in her seat. On her feet, she wore little white anklet
socks and white high-heeled sandals made up of many small criss- crossing straps.

It was an outfit that virtually screamed "Look at me! Look at what a sexy little
16-year-old tease I am!" Which was the idea. But not Tiffany's idea.

Tiffany was mortified by being forced to wear the too-tight blouse and the
too-short skirt. But she had forgotten about her deep shame for the moment as the
unbearable, agonizing itching in her pussy suddenly became even worse.

"MMMMMMffff!" moaned Tiffany, biting her lip, and rubbing her ass against the
chair for all it was worth.

"Miss Daniels, is something wrong?" asked Mr. Green, interrupting his lecture. He
stared at her. The entire English class stared as well.

"No sir, I'm OK," the suffering teenager squeaked out.

"Then why are you squirming so much in your seat and making noise?" asked Green.
His eyes glittered with a touch of evil.

"I'm sorry," said Tiffany. "I'll be good."

"Stand up, please," ordered Mr. Green. He gave her a hard look, willing her to
get to her feet.

Reluctantly, Tiffany slid out of her seat and stood beside her desk. Every male
eye in the classroom was riveted either on her naked thighs (the leg men) or her
nipples, which pushed against the thin fabric of her top.

"Miss Daniels, which poem are we discussing?"

Tiffany blushed. She had no idea. She had been so pre-occupied by the feelings
her young crotch that she had tuned the teacher out for the entire class.

"Mr. Green? Please? I don't feel well," Tiffany said, her voice taking on the
pleading tone of a little girl.

"And what exactly is the matter, Miss Daniels? Do you have ants in your pants?"

The whole class burst into laughter. Tiffany turned crimson red in shame.

Because the truth was, she did have ants in her pants. She had hundreds of ants
crawling all over her pussy, down between her legs, along her ass crack. She had
ants up deep inside her pussy, and ants deep up inside her rectum.

And the rule for the day was, she could not take them out. Couldn't even take her
panties off to scratch. She had to suffer, all day long, both the physical
discomfort of the nasty little insects violating all of her private parts, and
the psychological pain of knowing that she was not allowed to do anything about.

Green waited for an answer. Tiffany wondered: Did her know? She stammered, unable
to answer.

"Well, if you won't even give me the respect of an answer to a simple question
like whether you have ants in your pants, would you please come up to the front
of the room?" Green asked, politely but firmly. Tiffany didn't move. Her heart
was pounding like mad.

"Now, Miss Daniels!" barked the English teacher. "Or it will be detention for you
today after school!"

Detention? thought Tiffany. God, that was the last thing she could handle.
Reluctantly, she walked to the front of the room.

"I believe you know the spot," Mr. Green said, and gestured at the blackboard.
There was a chalk circle drawn there, and whenever a student misbehaved, Green
ordered them to stand with their nose pressed to the circle and their back to
their fellow students. Tiffany had never been singled out for this humiliating
punishment, and on this of all days! She didn't know how she could bear it.

"Circle or detention, Miss Daniels," Green said coldly. Suddenly she knew,
somehow, that Green was in on it, that he knew what the principal had done to her
that morning. How he'd poured honey all over her pussy and ass, parted the tender
labia with his rough fingers and dribbled the honey deep into her pussy, then
parted her ass the same way and applied honey there. How he'd then pulled a jar
of ants from his desk drawer and dumped them all over her middle. How he'd handed
her the white panties, and after she put them on, had taken a roll of heavy-duty
white duct tape and firmly taped the top of the panties to her skin, all the way
around her waist, 360 degrees, then done the same with each leg band, taping each
to her luscious thighs. The ants were trapped inside the panties, but they didn't
mind. They had honey to feast on.

The principal, Mr. White, had told the cheerleader that she would keep the ants
in her panties all through the school day, and only be allowed to take them out
at the end. If she tried to get the ants out before the final bell, the next day
he would repeat the exercise, using fire ants instead of regular ants. Fire ants,
Tiffany knew, would bite her tenderest places repeatedly and be a hellish agony
far worse than the tickling of the regular ants.

Green knew about the ants, Tiffany thought. And if he knew, detention would be
far, far worse than the chalk circle. It would mean she'd have to keep the ants
in her pants after the final bell.

Slowly, Tiffany walked to the front of the room, as the guys snickered and
watched the sway of her short, pleated skirt moving back and forth across the ass
they all wanted more than anything in the world. Her cheeks burned. She felt as
if she was on the verge of tears, but told herself she would not cry. She reached
the black board and pressed her nose into the circle. In order to do so, she had
to stand so close that her 36-C breasts mashed into the blackboard as well. She
worried that she was getting yellow chalk marks all over her blouse right over
her breasts, which would call even more attention to them the rest of the day.
But she did not dare take her nose out of the circle.

Mr. Green went back to his lecture on Emily Dickinson, but no one was listening.
The boys were all ogling Tiffany, wondering why she had started dressing like
such a slut. The girls looked at her with various mixtures of envy for her good
looks and malice for her past bitchiness.

"Nice ass, Tiff!" she heard a boy yell. She couldn't recognize the voice, but her
face felt so hot. She didn't dare look around and let them see her.

Tiffany felt the itching start again, deep, deep insider her rectum. Several ants
were working their way up further and further. She wanted more than anything to
rip her panties down, even there in front of everyone, and plunge her fingers up
her own ass, crushing the ants, plucking them out. But with every eye on her,
that was impossible. Even if she had been alone, she knew what would happen if
she didn't keep the panties in place all day.

So Tiffany Daniels suffered. And waited in agony. There was still half an hour to
go in English class.


* * *


CHAPTER TWO

THE ONE WITH THE FLASHBACK

Tiffany stood with her nose in the chalk circle, her large, firm teen breasts
pushing against the blackboard, her back to the class. She could feel the lustful
gazes of the young men, all 16 years old just like she was, and as full of
hormones as 16-year-old boys can be, staring at her long tanned legs. Those legs
were even more on display than usual, as the skirt she was wearing - had been
forced to wear that morning - was about an inch shorter than her normal
cheerleading skirt. She knew that if she were to bend even slightly at the waist,
it would ride up high enough for everyone to see her white panties. Her thighs
were smooth, the inner surfaces freshly shaved, her calves shapely.

Tiffany Daniels was a good girl. She rarely got in trouble. Made mostly Bs,
occasionally an A from a male teacher who graded her up just because he enjoyed
having such a sexy girl in his class, occasionally a C from a jealous female
teacher. She never got detention, had not tried d**gs, and was still a virgin,
although she had had a couple of close calls with boys who had pushed hard during
make-out sessions. She had let one such boy, Brad, get as far as a hand down her
panties and a finger teasing her teen pussy lips, and it felt better than
anything had ever felt in her life, but she didn't want to get carried away, and
it stopped the necking session, leaving Brad with a case of blue balls.

Brad had only told a couple of friends, but that was enough to get Tiffany
branded a "prick tease" around Daniels High School. That, and the normal cruelty
of teenagers. She exuded the confidence of the young, rich, good-looking teenaged
girl, the kind who got out on the basketball floor every Friday night in her
tight cheerleading uniform, and knew that every male cock in the arena was
twitching over her. It gave her a feeling of power, and even, sometimes, made her
pussy a little juicy, just thinking about how horny all the boys were for her.

Well, she wasn't feeling very powerful today. Powerless, in fact. She felt an ant
crawl across her clit. It was a maddening tickle, and made her slightly horny.
God, what a slut, she thought to herself, I've got an insect crawling on my
clitty and I'm getting off on it.

One little mistake, she thought. I cheated on one lousy little test, and now I
here I am with my panties taped to my body and my pussy full of ants. God damn
that Mr. White and the rest of them.

Her mind drifted back three days earlier, when her ordeal began.

Tiffany had been in algebra class with Mr. Brown, taking a test. She had been so
busy with cheerleading lately, and making signs for the big homecoming game, that
she had neglected her studies. So she had made up a tiny cheat sheet on a piece
of paper the size of a matchbox with the half-dozen formulas she needed but
hadn't memorized. When it looked like Mr. Brown was busy grading papers at his
desk, she had pulled the cheat sheet out and placed it beside her test and gone
to work.

The 16-year-old beauty was so engrossed in the test, her head bent low over the
paper, that she hadn't realized Brown had gotten up and was walking through the
room until he was standing right over her. He put his hand down on the cheat
sheet. Tiffany looked up, fear in her bright blue eyes.

"See me after class, please," Mr. Brown said. He picked up the cheat sheet and
walked away. The other students hadn't even realized what had happened.

When the bell rang, the students filed by Brown's desk, dropping their test
papers. Tiffany lingered. When the last student was gone, Mr. Brown shut the
classroom door.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Tiffany?" he asked. His dark eyes burrowed
directly into hers.

The young girl trembled. She didn't know what to do or say.

"Oh, please, sir, I'm so sorry," she blurted out. "I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to what?" Mr. Brown asked.

"I didn't mean to cheat on the test."

"Oh really?" he said sarcastically. "And how did that cheat sheet in your
handwriting get on your desk if you didn't mean to?"

"Oh, please, oh God," Tiffany burbled, almost starting to hyperventilate. Brown
noticed approvingly how her sweater was rising and falling rapidly, thrust out by
her heaving bosoms as she gulped in air.

"You've already said you're sorry," Brown said. "So just take that last little
step and tell me what you did."

"I I I I cheated, sir. Oh please don't flunk me!"

"You cheated on my algebra test, Tiffany Daniels?" repeated Mr. Brown.

"Yes," she said in a tiny voice. "I cheated on the test."

Brown opened a desk drawer and pulled out a small tape recorded. He clicked
rewind for a second, and Tiffany's voice filled the room, admitting her
transgression.

Tiffany suddenly felt sick.

"Why did you tape that?" she asked.

"Evidence," Brown said simply.

Tiffany didn't like the sound of this at all. And she liked the rest of the
conversation even less.

"I'm going to give you a choice, Tiffany," her math teacher said. "I can take
this cheat sheet and this tape recording, and you, down to the principal's
office. There, we can call your parents. When your parents come in, we'll tell
them you're getting an F in algebra this semester and why. And we'll remind you
of the school rule that any F means you cannot participate in any
extra-curricular activities, meaning you'll be kicked off the cheerleading squad
as of this afternoon.

Brown took a deep breath. It was time to play the card. "Orrrrrrr," he continued,
"we can work out an alternative punishment. You can meet me tonight at this
address. Your parents won't know, you'll get an A in math, you'll stay a
cheerleader."

Tiffany had a feeling that the meeting involved something sexual. She felt
nauseated, felt like she wanted to cry. She was being blackmailed, but she had no
choice.

"I'll meet you tonight, Mr. Brown," she said timidly.

"I liked it better when you called me sir," he said sternly. "Let's stick with
that."

"Yes sir," the blonde beauty said. Her knees were trembling, and she was on the
verge of tears.

At 8 p.m., Tiffany knocked on the door at the address Mr. Brown had given her. It
was a nondescript apartment complex on the outskirts of town, and when Brown
opened the door, Tiffany saw that the apartment itself was as plain as could be.
Nothing on the walls, minimal furniture, no trace that a person really lived
here.

"Is this where you live, sir?" she asked, remembering to address him the way he
had requested.

"Oh goodness no, Tiffany," he said politely. "This is just a little place I rent
on the side."

He studied the 16-year-old cutie. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail
and she wore little makeup, but she was still a knockout. She wore khaki pants
and a long-sleeved navy T-shirt from Abercrombie and Fitch. Brown could tell she
had tried to make herself as plain and unsexy as possible. He'd soon fix that, he
thought.

"Come in, have a seat," he said, and gestured to the couch. "Can I fix you a
drink?"

"Like a Coke?" Tiffany said nervously. Her heart was hammering, her bountiful
breasts heaving again under the shirt. She had to get control of herself, she
thought.

"No, a real drink," Mr. Brown said. "Scotch and water, perhaps?"

"Uh, sure," said Tiffany. "I mean, I'd like that, please, sir." Tiffany wasn't a
drinker, but she wanted to play along with her math teacher. Plus if she could
somehow get evidence that he had offered a 16- year-old student alcohol, she
could counter-blackmail him and maybe get out of this jam.

Brown went into the kitchen, poured Scotch over ice, added a dollop of water, and
then his own little modest addition. He poured a powdered mix out of a baggie
into the unsuspecting girl's drink. It contained half a dose of GBH, a
tranquilizer that was another version of a "Roofie," or date-**** d**g, mixed
with half a dose of Ecstasy, the tripping d**g used at raves. Even together, the
dosages would not knock Tiffany out, just give her a mellow buzz, a feeling of
being disconnected from what was growing on. Brown hoped it would also make her
horny and make her highly suggestible.

The cheerleader sipped her drink, and Brown his, which was undoctored. To relax
her, he asked about cheerleading, about her other classes, about where she wanted
to go to college. Tiffany drank nervously, and answered, and began to think that
maybe her math teacher didn't want to fuck her after all. Maybe he was just
lonely and wanted to talk, she thought.

"That was tasty," she said after she had finished the Scotch. "May I please use
the bathroom, sir?"

"Sure," Brown said. "It's right down this hall."

The teenager stood up, and suddenly her head began to swim as the d**gs took
effect. Her legs felt wobbly, her tongue was thick in her mouth, and her whole
body was tingling in a strange way. She quickly sat back down.

"I don't feel good, Mr. Brown," she said pitifully.

"Oh you're fine, Tiffany, just fine," the scheming teacher reassured her. "Just
not used to drinking Scotch, I imagine." He got up from his chair and sat down
next to her on the couch. He continued to talk to her in a low, reassuring voice.

Tiffany felt so strange. Everything was swirly. She was very aware of her body.
Her nipples seemed to be more sensitive - she could feel them pushing against the
inside of her bra. Her pussy felt warm and open. Her limbs were numb and heavy.
She felt hot and flushed. She could hear Mr. Brown's voice, talking, talking. It
seemed to anchor her in all the confusion.

"I feel hot," she told the lecherous teacher.

"Let me see - do you have a fever?" He put his palm on her forehead and applied a
little pressure. Tiffany leaned back, her head against the back of the couch, and
shut her eyes.

"Yeah, you're really feeling warm, sweetheart," Mr. Brown said. "Is your heart
beating fast?"

"Oooh, God yes," said Tiffany. Even with her eyes closed, she felt the room
spinning, and the tingling was increasing.

"We'd better cool you down," Brown said. "Let's get you out of those clothes."

Oh God! thought Tiffany in the part of her brain that was still functioning. He's
trying to get me naked! But she couldn't believe when she heard her voice say, as
if from a distance, "OK."

Brown pulled her arms over her head, and pulled the T-shirt up over them,
exposing her white lacy bra. He quickly undid the front clasp, exposing her
teenaged breasts, leaving her naked from the waist up.

When the air hit Tiffany's nipples, they instantly sprang to life and became
erect, jutting out like little erasers. God, they felt so good and tingly,
Tiffany thought.

Meanwhile, Brown leaned over and unlaced her tennis shoes, pulling them off. He
lifted her ass up off the couch and somehow quickly pulled her pants and panties
down together. 16-year-old Tiffany Daniels, the virgin cheerleader, was now
wearing only her white knee socks.

"Here, lie back, Tiffany, you'll feel better," Brown purred. She stretched out.
Everything seemed so strange, like it was happening to her but not happening to
her.

She heard Brown's voice. It sounded so soothing. "Are you feeling tingly?" he
asked. "Are you very aware of your body and how it feels?"

"Oh God, yesssss," she moaned.

"I want you to touch your pussy," Mr. Brown said in a low, commanding voice, and
placed her right hand on top of the blonde curls. "I want you to play with it.
The more you play with it, the better you'll feel." His voice had a hypnotic
quality, and Tiffany obeyed.

She was no longer in a strange apartment with her math teacher. In Tiffany's
mind, there was only the male voice telling her what to do, and the the strange
but increasingly wonderful way her young body felt. She used her fingers to pry
open her lips, and began to rub her clitoris through its little hood.

"Mmmmmm" she moaned. She was oblivious to everything except the warmth spreading
out from her young pussy.

Brown let the d**gs, his own suggestions and the girl's growing horniness work
their own magic. He got up and re-arranged Tiffany's legs, putting one leg high
on the back of the couch, placing the other foot on the floor. The effect was to
spread her legs wide apart, which wasn't difficult for a girl used to doing the
splits as a cheerleader. It also pulled her pussy lips wider apart, exposing more
of a special place.

Brown went into the kitchen and brought back an armful of stuff, which he
carefully arranged on the coffee table in front of the sofa. The bottle of Scotch
sat next to Tiffany's empty glass. He pulled out a Ziploc bag of pot and several
rolled joints, and s**ttered them on the table. He also laid down a mirror with
several lines of cocaine laid out.

Tiffany, her eyes closed, her head thrown back, her right hand working furiously
on her young, throbbing clit, was blissfully unaware of what he was doing.

"Feeeels so goooood," she purred. The dazed and confused girl continued to
masturbate as the combination of d**gs took her further and further away from
reality. She felt as if there was a river of warmth flowing up from her crotch,
up her torso, caressing her breasts with their erect nipples, up her neck and
straight into her brain.

She was completely unaware of the tiny, high-pitched whir of the digital video
camcorder recording her every move. The Daniels High School principal, Roger
White, was sitting in a closet across the room from the masturbating cheerleader,
pointing the expensive camera through a broken slat, capturing her every move.
His erection strained against the front of his pants, and he thought how nice it
would be to get out of this damn closet, whip out his massive prick and plunge it
into her boiling twat. "All in good time," Roger, he thought.

John Brown, her math teacher, saw the Tiffany was approaching her orgasm. Her
breathing was getting ragged, her large breasts rode up and down, her fingers
flew. Her pink clit had now completely escaped its protective hood and was
swollen with lust.

"Uhhhhhhhhh. Uhhhhhhh," Tiffany groaned, lost in her own d**ggy world of sensual
pleasure and self-gratification.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" Mr. Brown asked softly, his lips only inches
away from Tiffany'e ear.

"Ohhh, yessssss," she shuddered as her climax approached. Her young pussy was now
slick with her own sweet juices, and her inner labia gaped open, exposing the
redness within.

"I want you to listen very carefully, Tiffany," Mr. Brown addressed her. "In
order for you to be able to cum, I'm going to have to cum, too. That's the only
way you can cum tonight is to make me cum."

Tiffany's eyes flew open in panic, and she saw her math teacher standing next to
her head, his trousers down to his ankles, his huge erection bobbing a few inches
from her face. It was angry and purple, its head swollen.

She knew she should be afraid of the large organ, and what Mr. Brown was asking.

"Close your eyes, sweetie," Mr. Green said. "And open your mouth. Doesn't your
pussy feel so good?"

Tiffany obeyed. Her young lips parted, almost of their own accord. John Brown
moved forward and slipped the bulbous head of his cock between her lips.

"Now suck on it, Tiffany."

A tiny part of the d**g-addled girl's brain knew this was wrong, but she didn't
have the strength to object or fight. It was so much easier to just do what he
said, and keep fingering her pussy. She began to suck on the teacher's dick, and
he pushed a couple more inches into her mouth.

For the next few minutes, the room was quiet. There was the slight whir of the
video camera, the slurping sound of Brown's cock as it sawed back and forth into
the cheerleader's luscious mouth, and the wet, sloppy sound as she frantically
rubbed her clit, which slid around in circles in the lubrication of her pussy
juices.

"OK, I'm going to cum now," Mr. Brown told her, his breathing labored, as he felt
his scrotum tighten and his balls prepare to release a massive load into the
young girl's warm, moist mouth. "There's going to be some sperm shooting into
your mouth, and as soon as you feel it hit your tongue, it will be time for you
to come too. I want us to come together. And I want you to swallow all my sperm."

Tiffany, in a daze of lust, close to her own orgasm, practically stripped of her
own will by the d**gs, just moaned in agreement.

Suddenly, she felt her teacher's hot cum spurting onto her tongue, and his
hypnotic suggestion took hold. She tipped over the edge into her own orgasm and
began to cum hard. The older man's cum spurted and spurted, hot and salty, and
she began to swallow, as her pussy began to spasm. Her hand kept busy on her
clit, rubbing furiously, as Green rammed his cock into her mouth again and again
until his balls were drained.

The student and teacher were both at peace, drained by their tremendous orgasms.

The remainder of the evening was just logistics. Brown helped the groggy girl get
dressed, and fished out of her purse the address he had given her, so as not to
leave any link to himself. He walked her out to her car and drove her home - she
was certainly in no shape to drive! - all the while talking gently to her to keep
her from freaking out. Tiffany just hummed softly to herself, and seemed unaware
of her surrounding.Brown parked the car in her driveway and told her to go into
her house and go to bed, and the girl obeyed. Roger White drove up five minutes
later and picked the math teacher up.

"God almighty," I got a hard-on like fucking crowbar," said White.

"Well then," said Brown, "I guess you get first crack at her tomorrow."


* * *


CHAPTER THREE

THE ONE WITH THE GOLDEN OLDIE

And that's how it had started, Tiffany thought, as she prayed for the bell to
ring to signal the end of English class. Her pert little nose had been parked in
the chalk circle for 10 minutes now, but it seemed like an eternity. She had to
stand still even as hundreds of ants feasted on the honey that had been applied
to the insides of her vagina and far up into her teenaged asshole. The maddening
ants kept her in constant agony, and were even starting to make her horny as they
marched back and forth all over her little clitty.

Of course, she only found out some of the details when Brown and White finally
told her how they had worked out the plan; the night she had fingered herself to
orgasm and swallowed a load of Brown's hot cum, she had been so doped up on GBH
and Ecstasy she barely knew her own name.

The morning after the cheerleader had put on her little show for the treacherous
older men, she woke up feeling awful, an after effect of the d**gs. She told her
mother that she didn't feel well and asked her to call the school office. Her
mother agreed; Tiffany was not the sort of girl to fake being sick.

Her younger sister Stephanie popped her head into Tiffany's room. At 14,
Stephanie was a budding beauty. She still had her braces on her teeth, which were
due off in a year, and her breasts had not yet begun to sprout into the
impressive 36-Cs that poked out of Tiffany's torso, but she was still a little
cutie who was obviously going to be just as hot as her older sister.

"Hey!" said Stephanie cheerfully. "Where were you last night? I didn't hear you
come in."

Tiffany cast her mind back. She remembered going to her math teacher's apartment,
but not much else. She had a vague memory of being naked, and she blushed. What
had happened? Why couldn't she remember?

"Oh, I stayed at school to work on homecoming banners," Tiffany lied. She hated
being dishonest with her sister, but couldn't possibly tell her the truth, and
she wasn't even sure of the truth.

Tiffany stayed in bed all that day. The next day, although she felt fine, she
also had her mother call in sick for her. She was dreading facing Mr. Brown. Had
she really been naked with him? Had he fucked her? she wondered. No, she'd be
able to feel it in her pussy, she decided, and she could tell she was still a
virgin.

On the third day, Tiffany felt like she had no choice. She couldn't stay home
from school forever. Homecoming was approaching, and if she missed too many
practices she wouldn't be allowed to cheer. She dressed for school conservatively
- blue jeans, a bulky sweater, Doc Martens - and drove to Daniels High School.

Sitting in first period, Tiffany listened to the morning announcements over the
P.A. system. Just as they were winding up, the vice principal who was reading the
announcements said, "And Tiffany Daniels, please report to the principal's
office."

Every k** in homeroom turned and looked at the cute cheerleader, and she blushed.
But hey, she thought, I haven't done anything wrong. There could be all kinds of
reasons to meet with Principal White - student council (Tiffany was vice
president), homecoming plans, all sorts of things.

The teenager gathered up her book bag and marched down the hall to Principal
White's office.

"Come in, come in, Tiffany," Mr. White said jovially. His eyes twinkled. Tiffany
was relieved. If she'd done something wrong, he'd be acting stern.

"Have a seat," White said once Tiffany was inside his office. He shut the door.
Tiffany thought she heard him turn the lock, but maybe she was mistaken.

"Well, well, Miss Tiffany Daniels," said the principal. Suddenly he was no longer
twinkly, but stern. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she said nervously.

"Fine, huh?" repeated the principal. "Well, maybe we can change that. I want you
to watch something."

The sexy blonde cheerleader noticed for the first time a TV set on a portable
cart, with a VCR underneath it. White pressed a button on a remote control, and a
video flickered onto the screen.

There was Tiffany Daniels, sweet 16, splayed out stark naked except for white
knee socks on a sofa. On a table in front of her, crystal clear, was a bottle of
Scotch, some joints, and what looked like lines of cocaine spread out on a
mirror. Tiffany had never touched d**gs of any sort, but the juxtaposition was
damning.

As the girl watched in growing horror, she saw herself start to masturbate. There
was no sound on the video, but the image swung up and down her lithe young body,
focusing first on her face, with her eyes closed and her mouth open in ecstasy,
then panning down her breasts with her nipples hard and firm, down to her pussy,
where her fingers were working away at her clit. The image zoomed in on her
pussy, showing her blonde pubes slick with her pussy juices.

The image jumped back to her head, and a man's torso entered the frame. He was
unidentifiable, seen only from mid torso to mid thigh. He had an enormous
erection, and he approached Tiffany's mouth and slid it right in. She could see
the man's cock move in and out of her mouth. She was horrified, humiliated,
totally degraded, as she watched herself suck a strange man's cock while
masturbating, and watched it in with her school principal standing right beside
her.

White laid a heavy hand on her shoulder, and Tiffany jumped.

"Some video, huh?" he asked, leering. He hit the remote, and the screen went
black.

"But wait, there's more!" White said, making his voice sound like a TV pitchman
on an infomercial. He was enjoying her distress, toying with her, piling on the
humiliation.

Tiffany sat numbly, her world shattered. She realized the video must have been
made two nights ago at Mr. Brown's apartment, even though her memory was hazy.
White walked to his desk and pulled out a large envelope and tossed it to her.

"Have a look, baby," he said with a grin.

Tiffany pulled out a tape recorder, pressed play and listened once again to her
confession of cheating on her algebra test. She stopped it and pulled from the
envelope her cheat sheet. But the last thing in the envelope was the worst. It
was an 8x10 photo taken from the video. It showed her face in closeup, her eyes
closed but very recognizable. Her lips were stretched around a male cock.

Printed across the bottom of the photo in some sort of electronic type was this
message:

"MY NAME IS TIFFANY DANIELS. I LIVE AT 300 W. ALAMEDA STREET, BEVERLY, TEXAS. MY
PHONE NUMBER IS 555-1212. I'M A JUNIOR AT DANIELS HIGH SCHOOL IN BEVERLY. I LOVE
SUCKING OFF NASTY PERVERTS. IF YOU CAN IMAGINE IT, I WILL DO IT."

"Oh God, Mr. White," the poor girl moaned. "What is this? What are you doing to
me?"

Mr. White was humming to himself. Tiffany didn't recognize the tune.

Suddenly he began singing the song he had been humming. "You're 16, you're
beautiful, and you're mine! You're 16, you're beautiful, and you're mine!"

The stunned girl sat, immobile.

"Let me explain your new life to, Miss Tiffany Cocksucker Slave Cunt Daniels. You
are mine, utterly and completely. You will do anything and everything I tell you
to, starting at this moment. Am I making myself clear, you wretched little slut?"

The cheerleader nodded, mute. This was all a horrible nightmare, she thought. No
one had ever dared talk to her in such a way. It was unimaginable. She'd report
him to the school board. She'd tell her parents. She'd kill the motherfucker!

"Now, Miss Slut Slave, here is what will happen if you don't do exactly as I tell
you from now on. There are already dozens of copies of this video dubbed. They
have been edited so there is no sign as to who made them. The only thing people
will see on this video will be Tiffany Slut Cunt Daniels sucking a man's cock
after she's obviously indulged in i*****l d**gs. The tapes are in envelopes,
already addressed, and with a friend of mine. If I say the word, copies will be
mailed to your parents, your pastor at St. Timothy's, your fellow cheerleaders,
and about 50 of the guys here at school. I'm sure they'll make sure they're
distributed to everybody else.

"The picture you see with your name, address and phone number will be posted
repeatedly on every sex newsgroup on the Internet. Within 24 hours, thousands of
perverts nationwide will know who you are, where you live and where you go to
school. Of those thousands, surely a couple hundred will want to track down the
girl in the photo. You'll be stalked at home and at school, probably ****d
repeatedly, possibly k**napped, never to see your family or friends again.

"If you go to the police, or even if you get really brave and try to kill me, my
friend will mail out the tapes and make the Internet postings. Your life will be
over. So you see, Tiffany Tits, why I sing: You're 16, you're beautiful, and
you're mine."

The cheerleader felt like she was dead. She was being blackmailed, and she had no
choice but to go along with her perverted principal.

"So, shall we begin, you little slut-monkey?" he said evilly, trying to degrade
the teenager even further with his name-calling

"Please," the poor girl squeaked. "Please don't do this to me. Please let me go.
I'll be good."

"Oh, you'll be good all right," White said sarcastically.. "You'll be great.
You'll be as much fun as we've had in a long time.

"We're going to play a series of games," he continued. "We'll call it Toying With
Tiffany. You won't like hardly any of them, although there's a good chance that
you'll get some nice orgasms along the way. Your like here at Daniels High School
is going to be a living hell for a while, until we get tired of you, and then
we'll move on. That's right, Tiffany, I said 'We.' I'm part of a team of men here
at Daniels that breaks young girls like yourself. You aren't the first and you
won't be the last. You're just our Number One project at the moment."

"Please," the cheerleader pleaded. "I beg you, Mr. White. I'll do anything."

"That you will, Tiffany, that you will. Now, stand up and strip."

Tiffany hesitated.

"Now, cunt!" he barked.

She had no choice. Maybe later she would figure out how to beat the horrible
principal. But for now, she had to obey him or risk destroying her entire life.
She rose, and slowly began to peel off her clothes.

When she was naked, White ordered her to lay on his desk on her back, grab her
ankles and pull her legs back. Her heart pounding, she obeyed. Was he going to
**** her now?

Instead, he pulled a jar of honey from his desk drawer. "Don't move a muscle,
bitch," he hissed, and began to apply the honey all over her blonde pubes. He
swathed it down the sensitive strip between her pussy and ass, and smeared her
ass cheeks with it. He held open her pussy lips with one hand and poured honey up
inside her, then did the same thing with her ass. Tiffany was mortified at what
was going on, but didn't understand.

"Please, don't do this to me," she wailed.

"Shut up!" he snapped. "I don't want to hear another word out of you." He reached
down to the floor and picked up her white cotton panties and stuffed them into
her mouth. "Keep them there until I tell you to take them out," he ordered.

Then he pulled out the jar of ants. "Not a twitch, bitch, or mommy and daddy and
the whole world will see that video." And with that, he poured the ants all over
her crotch. Tiffany was petrified, but obeyed his order and didn't move a muscle.
She wanted to scream, but didn't.

"One final touch," he said. From a closet be brought forth a bag. "The clothes
you came in are a little too modest for a whore-dog like you. From now on, you'll
wear what we tell you to wear. Put these on."

Tiffany climbed down from the desk, her head spinning. Honey dripped down one
thigh. The horrible ants were crawling all over her. She pulled out another pair
of panties, also white cotton, and pulled them on. A short pleated skirt went
over them, one a little shorter than her cheerleader skirt that almost showed the
bottom of the cheeks of her sweet teenaged ass. There was no bra, and she looked
at Principal White with a pleading expression, not daring to take the panty gag
out of her mouth and ask a question.

"That's right, no bra. And on future days, probably no panties," he said.

Tiffany put on the sheer white blouse that was a little too small. She buttoned
it all the way up, but White unbuttoned the top two buttons. Her large, firm
teenaged breasts strained against the cotton; White could faintly make out her
aureolas under the blouse. The cheerleader continued getting dressed, pulling on
little white anklets with lacy tops and then buckling on white sandals with high
heels. God, she thought, I wouldn't wear an outfit like this in a million years.
It's so slutty.

White pulled out a roll of duct tape. "Just to make sure these panties stay on,"
he told her, and wrapped a thick strip of tape around her waist, taping the
panties to her bare skin. He did the same around each thigh, taping the panties
to each leg. "If you try to remove the panties to get rid of the ants," White
warned the scared girl, "we'll repeat the game tomorrow, using fire ants.

"Now there's one last order of business, Miss Blow Job Daniels," the principal
said. "I'm more than a little horny after our little meeting. I want you to kneel
down and suck me off."

Jesus, thought Tiffany, this will never end. Reluctantly, she kneeled down in
front of the principal and pulled the panties out of her mouth as he unzipped his
fly and hauled out his erection. "Take it deep, little girlie, and use your
tongue."

She leaned forward and opened her lips and allowed the principal to insert his
cock into her moist young mouth. She had never felt so humiliated or degraded in
her 16 years, to be kneeling here, sucking off her principal in this slutty
outfit, while hundreds of live ants crawled all over her most private and
sensitive parts. It was a nightmare, she thought, but she had no choice.

After a couple of minutes of sucking, she felt his cock begin to swell. He
clasped his hands on the sides of her head and thrust deeper into her throat. She
started to gag, but fought down the urge, as his cock erupted, shooting stream
after stream of jism deep into her throat. She swallowed over and over until he
was done.

"That's a good little slut," Mr. White said. "Go back to class now. And during
the day, if a teacher tells you to do something, I suggest you do it. There are
several of us in on this little project, and you wouldn't want to piss off
anybody."

Humiliated, Tiffany stuffed her old clothes into her book bag and left the
office. As she left, she heard White singing to himself:

"You walked out of my dreams, and into my life Now you're my angel divine You're
16, you're beautiful, and you're mine."


* * *


CHAPTER FOUR

THE ONE WITH ALL THE CHEERING

Finally, the bell ring, signalling the end of Tiffany's humiliation in front of
Mr. Green's English class. As the other students filed out, Tom Green said softly
to the teenaged girl, so no one else could hear, "Stay right where you are,
Tiffany."

She stood, her nose pressed to the chalkboard. The live ants were having a field
day in her sweet little asshole, crawling up and down, irritating the sensitive
lining. It was maddening, but Tiffany stood still.

As the last student filed out, Tom Green shut the door.

"Well, well, well," he said. "Little Miss Tiffany My Pussy's Too Good For Y'All
Daniels. How do you feel?"

The cheerleader didn't know what to respond. Green was obviously in on the
conspiracy with Brown and White to degrade her, so she knew she had to tread
carefully.

"I asked you a question, Miss Tiffany Ants Up the Ass Daniels." Green stood
directly behind her and leaned in so his breath was hot in her ear and on her
neck. If anyone had walked in, it would have looked like a teacher having a
conference with a student who had been disciplined, but Tiffany knew this was far
beyond that.

"I don't know sir. Please, can I go to my next class?" Tiffany pleaded.

"Sure, slut," Green said. The teenager flinched with each new verbal assault. She
was used to respect and deference, not horrible sexual insults. "And you didn't
move, so you don't get detention, even though I'm sure you wanted to wiggle that
little ass, didn't you?"

"Please, may I go now?" she repeated.

"Yes you may," said Green, and Tiffany stepped back from the blackboard. Green
ogled her brazenly, and his eyes stopped on her gorgeous teenaged tits.

"Uh-oh, little problem here, Tiff," he said. She looked down and saw two large
yellow chalk smears, one over each breast, where they had pressed against the
board.

"Here, let's clean you up," Green said with mock kindliness.

"No, that's really OK," said Tiffany, "I'm gonna be late."

"Nonsense," Green countered. "We can't have you walking around the halls looking
like that." And he pulled a packet from his desk drawer. It was several of those
moist towlettes, like little napkins soaked in antiseptic cleaner. "Here, hold
still, and let me clean you off."

Knowing what was coming, Tiffany took a step back. She didn't want her English
teacher pawing her tits; despite all the terrible things done to her over the
last few days, she still had her dignity.

"I said hold still!" hissed Green, "That's a goddam order! Put your hands at your
sides, bitch!"

The trembling teen obeyed.

Green extended a towlette and begin to dab at her right breast. The coldness and
wetness soaked straight through the thin cotton and, since she had been forbidden
to wear a bra, hit her young nipple, causing it to spring to life in full,
glorious erection. As her nipple hardened, Tiffany looked down and realized the
moisture was soaking the blouse all over her breast, causing the fabric to become
nearly transparent!

"Please, Mr. Green, I'm gonna be late! Oh God, people are gonna see!" The poor
girl, who had already endured so much, was becoming more and more frantic.

"Don't move a muscle!" barked Green. "I'll write you a fucking pass." He pulled
out a new towlette and began the same process on her left breast, with the same
result: a perky, extended nipple and thin, wet, white fabric. Anyone could see
both of Tiffany's perfect teenaged breasts and their hard nipples, and the halls
were full of her fellow students changing classes.

"There, we got all that nasty chalk off," Green mocked her with a sick smile. He
scribbled out a pass for her tardiness to her next class," and then said,
matter-of-factly, "When you go to your next class, Miss Daniels, why don't you
carry your books by your side under your arm rather than hugged in front of your
chest. In fact, consider that an order. If you try to hide that pretty little
chest, I'll report you to Principal White for disobedience."

Tiffany knew what that meant. She would just have to hope she could make it there
quickly.

The halls were still packed as Tiffany scurried along, her breasts in plain view,
jiggling wildly in their braless state. As her nipples rubbed the inside of the
tight blouse, they stayed erect. Every student in the hall stopped and stared.
Some laughed, many pointed, as the wealthy young woman, named for the founder of
the school, walked rapidly along.

"Hey, Tiff, I like the new look!" called a male voice.

"It's Tits, not Tiff," yelled another. Raucous laughter burst from a pack. Her
face burned with shame. This couldn't be happening to her, she thought. What a
horrible nightmare.

Several boys started a chant, mocking her cheerleader status: Gimme a T! Gimme an
I! Gimme a T! Gimme an S! What's that spell? Tits! Who's got 'em? Tiffany!"

God, were there no teacher to save her from this? Tiffany was almost in tears
when she reached study hall. She burst into the room, made straight for her desk
and sat down. She choked back tears. Her life was a living hell.

The rest of the day passed without major incident for Tiffany. Her blouse dried
in study hall, and her nipples finally returned to their normal state. The ants
were still driving her nuts, but many of them had died from being squished
between her butt and the chairs she sat in. The ones that remained, though, were
the worst, for the they were the ones crawling deep inside her pussy and ass.

Mr. White had not given Tiffany any instructions as to what was happen to her at
the end of the day, although she thought she was due to have the ants removed. So
she was not surprised when, during her last class of the day, a student "runner"
from the office came in with a sealed envelope for Tiffany.

"Report to my office at the final bell," read the note inside. Tiffany could tell
White and the other male teachers were being careful not to leave any evidence
that could incriminate them.

A few minutes after the last bell rang, Tiffany was once again in Principal
White's office, the place where she had begun her day in hell. White again shut
the door.

"How was your day, Tiffany-Bitch?" he asked maliciously.

"Hellish," she answered honestly.

"The correct answer would be, 'Hellish, SIR," he corrected.

"Yes, sir," she responded.

"I imagine you're anxious to get those ants out of your pussy and ass," the evil
principal said. "But I'm concerned it might be difficult to get the ones that
have crawled up really high and out of reach. So I bought you something to help."

He pulled out an enormous black dildo, about 10 inches long and as big around as
a paper-towel tube. Tiffany's mouth hung open as she stared at it.

"No, bitch, it's not for your mouth," White said, "although you might want to get
it wet there first. It's to crush the ants. Your fingers won't reach far enough.
So you insert your new little friend here all the way up your pussy, then all the
way up your ass, and use it to crush the ants. I'm afraid that if you don't use
this, you'll never kill them all, and tomorrow you'll still have ants crawling
inside you. You don't want that, do you?"

The dejected, dazed cheerleader just shook her head.

"So take your new friend here and put him in your backpack. Go on home and find
yourself a little privacy and get rid of the ants. Heck, be glad I'm not ordering
you to do it right here on my office floor. It would make a great addition to the
videotape: Sweet little virgin Tiffany Daniels fucks herself up the ass with a
big black dildo. Yeah, that would be a popular offering on the Internet," he
chuckled.

Tiffany reluctantly took the dildo and stuck it in her backpack.

"Then once you get rid of the ants, we thought it might be nice to go shopping
tonight," White continued. "So tell Mommy and Daddy you have to come back to
school after dinner to work on a Homecoming project. Be here at 7:30 p.m., and
we'll meet you in the parking lot. We'll have you back by 9:30 so you can get
home and get your beauty sleep."

"May I ask a question, sir?" Tiffany was looking down at the floor submissively,
which White liked.

"Yes, you may, ass-licker."

"Where are we going tonight? And who all is going?

"Well, you're the central attraction, of course," White said. "And there will be
myself, and Mr. Brown and Mr. Green, and maybe some others depending on their
availability. We're going to the mall and pick out some new clothes for you,
something more in line with what you were wearing today. I'm sure as hell not
gonna spend any more of my own money buying you slut outfits like this one."

"So should I bring money, sir?"

"No, that won't be necessary," White said ominously. "You'll be paying for the
clothes, but not with money." He smiled at her and winked.

Tiffany felt sick. She didn't know what was in store, only that it wasn't good at
all.


* * *


CHAPTER 5

THE ONE WITH THE RODGERS AND HAMMERSTEIN

Tiffany tore up the stairs to her bedroom, frantically locking the door behind
her. She stripped off the hateful slut outfit and started ripping at the duct
tape.

"Ooh! Ooh! Owwww!" she moaned as the tape pulled away from her skin, pulling tiny
golden hairs out with it. The tape around her tummy was bad, but the tape around
her young thighs was even worse.

Finally she was able to tear off her panties. She desperately pushed a finger up
her pussy, trying to fish out the ants.

After a few minutes writhing around on her back on her bed, her legs spread wide
and one finger, then two fingers, up her cunt, the 16-year- old realized she
wasn't able to get to all of the nasty little insects. She pulled the large black
dildo from her backpack and positioned it at the pink, pouting lips of her pussy.
Just as she sank it in about two inches, there was a knock at her door.

"Tiffany? Are you OK?"

Jesus, thought Tiffany, it was her younger sister Stephanie.

"Go away!" yelled Tiffany.

"What's wrong? Can I come in?" asked Stephanie.

"No, go away!"

"Why not?"

Tiffany's mind raced. "Uh, no, I'm having female problems," Tiffany replied,
using their code word for that time of the month.

"OK," said Stephanie and walked away. Tiffany rammed the dildo home.

God, it felt good, she thought, like scratching an itch you've been needing to
scratch all day. She pulled it out and sank it into her sweet virgin (well,
technically virgin) pussy over and over and over again. She could feel her juices
start to flow, lubricating the walls of her vagina. She was barely aware that her
clit had popped out as she slid the rubber monster deep inside, over and over.

The ants were all dead, but the wealthy cheerleader kept fucking herself, closer
and closer to an orgasm.

"Ohhhhhhh, yesssssss," she moaned softly, not wanting to alert Stephanie or her
mom. Her large perfect breasts heaved on her chest, her nipples poked up, hard,
she splayed her knees even wider, and rammed the dildo home. She reached down,
and as soon as she touched her swollen pink clit she exploded in a delicious
teenaged orgasm.

After she caught her breath, she became aware that she still had ants up her ass.
She pulled out the dildo, now slick with lubrication, and gently pushed it into
her own rectum. Although she had masturbated before, she'd never stuck anything
up her own ass. It hurt a little, but also felt kind of nice. She felt very full.

As she began to work up some speed with the dlido in her ass, crushing and
killing the ants her principal had placed there, she realized she wanted to come
again. So again she started to fondle her own clit, rolling it in her fingers.
Heat seemed to be building inside her body, and soon she came again, even harder
than before.

"Oh God," she thought, suddenly ashamed of herself. "Did I really just do that,
masturbate with a black dildo up my bottom? Oh, but it felt so good."

She allowed herself the luxury of mentally drifting for a few minutes, enjoying
the heavy feel of her recently satisfied body. But then she jerked, realizing she
had to hide the dildo and face her family. And even worse, her principal was
expecting her to meet him for a trip to the mall. She was dreading the encounter.
If she had known what she was in store for, she would have dreaded it even more.

Promptly at 7:30 that night, Tiffany pulled into the Daniels High School parking
lot in her new Miata, a present from daddy for her 16th birthday. The lot was
empty except for a few cars at the far end, where she saw some men standing. She
drove over and got out of the car.

Roger White, the Daniels principal, was there, as was John Brown, the math
teacher who had originally caught her cheating, d**gged her and videotaped her,
starting her horrible descent into being a sexual slave to these depraved men.
And there was Tom Green, the English teacher who had humiliated her earlier that
day. The fourth man, though, surprised her: Joe Black, Old Joe, the school
custodian. Old Joe was only in his '50s, but to the smug young teens of Daniels
High, he might as well have been in his '80s. He was a large black man, big but
not fat, just hulking and heavily muscled. He rarely said a word to the students
except "Excuse me" when he needed to get by with his broom or mop.

"Right on time, Little Miss Cheerleader Cunt," sneered Mr. White.

Again with the horrible names, thought Tiffany. This all would be bad enough but
it's so much worse when they call me these names.

"Looking good, Tiffany," said Mr. Green, eyeing her up and down. She wore
sneakers, jeans and a white short-sleeved blouse.

Old Joe licked his lips. The janitor leered at her, and she shuddered. It was bad
enough to be the toy of these teachers, but to have a dirty old janitor doing it
too, that was just too yucky.

"Why is he here?" she asked White, referring to Old Joe.

"Why, Old Joe here is our best buddy, aren't you Joe?" White answered, and put
his arm around Joe's shoulder. Joe smiled at Tiffany.

"About 10 years ago, when you were just in first grade, Tiffany, I was fucking a
student in my office one night. Chrissy, I believe her name was. Anyway, I had my
cock up her ass and in walks Old Joe. There to empty my wastebaskets and vacuum.
He and I pretty much decided that either he could report me and get me fired, or
he could wait until I was done and then fuck Chrissy up the ass, too. So when I
got done, he took his turn. We kind of bonded that night, Old Joe and I, and
we've been working as a team ever since. These other guys have joined the club as
the years have gone by."

Tiffany barely heard most of the principal's story. At the words "cock up her
ass," she had frozen in fear. The luscious young student had heard whispers among
her girlfriends that some guys - and even, occasionally, some girls - liked anal
sex, but she had never heard it referred to so brutally. And if these men had
done it to another student, would they do it to her? Was she going to eventually
get fucked up her virgin little ass by all four men? Was that what was in store
for her?

"And now, off to the mall we go!" the principal chortled, breaking Tiffany's
reverie.

The men opened the doors of the Lincoln Navigator and motioned for Tiffany to get
into the back seat. "But first," said Old Joe, let's get those jeans off, missy.
Panties too."

"Oh, no, please don't make me do that," Tiffany whined.

"You just don't get it, sweetheart," said Mr. White. "Have you forgotten that
little video we have of you? What will Mommy and Daddy think? And all your
friends? I can pretty well guess what all the perverts on the Internet will think
when they see that sweet innocent little face with a cock stuffed in its
mouth-hole, complete with your name, address, and phone number. You'll be the
most popular girl in Texas. It'll be like you're a dog in heat and they just
opened the doors of the kennel!"

Tiffany shuddered at the gross image, and sagged in defeat. It was only she and
the men in the parking lot, so she slipped off her sneakers, then her jeans, then
her panties. She felt horribly exposed and vulnerable outdoors, so she quickly
climbed into the backseat of the large SUV.

"Might as well do the blouse and bra, too, sweet cheeks," said Old Joe.

"Sweet cheeks?" echoed White. "Why Joe, we don't call our friend Tiffany a name
like sweet cheeks. We call her fuckmeat, or ass-licker, or juicy-cunt, or
shit-for-brains." The men all laughed raucously. Tiffany blushed furiously.

"Please, may I ask a favor?"

"Sure, smegma-breath," said Green.

"Would you just not call me horrible names? All this is bad enough, but could you
just not call me names?"

"Awwwww!" the men jeered in unison. "Poor little Tiffany got her feelings hurt!"

White climbed into the driver's seat, with Green beside him. Old Joe got in on
Tiffany's right, Mr. Brown on her left. The nude girl huddled between them, aware
that all of their eyes were drinking in her lovely 16-year-old body. The night
air was chilly, and her nipples had sprung to attention, further betraying her,
making it appear she was sexually aroused.

"Tell you what, Tiffany," said White. "We'll play a little game on the way to the
mall. If you win the game, we won't call you names any more. You have my word. If
you lose the game, we'll keep right on calling you whatever we like. Seeing as
how we have total power over you anyway, what do you have to lose?"

What, indeed, she thought. She might as well try.

"What's the game?" she asked meekly.

"Remember last year when you were in the school production of "Sound of Music?"
Such a nice musical," White said. "Even though you didn't play Liesel, I'm sure
you heard her sing in rehearsals over and over. We'd like for you to serenade us
on the way to the mall by singing that song "I Am Sixteen, Going on s*******n."

"That's all I have to do?" Tiffany asked nervously.

"That's it. Just get through the whole song one time, perfectly, without stopping
or making any mistakes, and we'll stop calling you names."

This will be easy, Tiffany thought. I'm sure I can remember all the words, and
Liesel's part is really only a few lines, cause it's a duet.

"But we've got to make it challenging," said Joe. "Put your hand behind your
back. Without even thinking, Tiffany leaned forward in the back seat and placed
her hands behind her. In a flash, Joe pulled out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed
her wrists. Her arms were now pinned back at the shoulders, her hands trapped.

"Stop! Oh God please, take them off!" Tiffany shouted in panic.

"Shut up!" yelled White. "Listen, girlie, and listen good. If we get stopped by
the cops, or if anything happen