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, drugged 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 Seventeen."

"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 happens to us, in any way shape or form, whether it's
your fault or not, all of guys have had it. Our careers are over. And the only
satisfaction we'll have is making sure your life is hell. So if anything happens,
my friend mails those videos out and posts them on the Net. So it's in your
fuckin' best interest to make sure that we don't get caught! Got it, bitch?"

Tiffany nodded. She was feeling horribly numb again. The logic was inescapable.
She was trapped as the toy of these men and could do nothing about it.

"Let's get comfortable," said Joe. He grabbed Tiffany's naked right leg and
pulled it into his lap. He then crossed his legs over her leg, trapping it. On
her left, Brown did the same thing.

The result, even before White had started the Navigator, was that Tiffany was
nearly immobilized in the backseat. Her hands and arms were cuffed behind her
with the weight of her body leaning back against them, and her legs were spread
wide and held pinned by each muscular man on her sides. She squirmed and wiggled,
but could do nothing. She also noticed, for the first time, that the windows of
the vehicle were darkly smoked, and no one could possibly see inside.

"Here we go," White said, starting the SUV and pulling out of the parking lot.

"Any time you want to start singing, be our guest," said Brown with a giggle.

"Tiffany took a deep breath and began: "I am 16, going on 17..."

Old Joe's right hand shot out and grabbed ahold of one perky nipple and started
massaging it.

"Oh God, stop!" shouted Tiffany. Joe kept up his manipulation of the nipple,
which was growing harder.

"Come on, we want a song!" shouted White from the front seat.

Tiffany started over. "I am 16, going on 17..."

Mr. Brown's right hand began to rub up and down Tiffany's bare thigh. She kept
singing.

"I know that I'm naive...."

Brown reached around with his left hand and started to tickle the underside of
her breast, while inching his right up until it reached her pussy.

"Oh, please, I can't do this!" Tiffany wailed.

"Fine, then, little lesbo bitch," said White. "She doesn't want to sing for us,
guys, so it's back to name-calling."

The teenaged cheerleader knew this was just a horrible game to all of them, but
maybe if she got through the song she could at least have that small victory. She
steeled herself against the roaming, prodding hands of her two teachers as they
explored her writhing young body, and started again.

"I am 16, going on 17 I know that I'm naive Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet
And willingly OH! OH!"

She couldn't help herself. Joe's hand at drifted down to her pussy and he had
plunged a fat finger deep inside her. She hadn't realized she was still slick
with juice from her recent session with the dildo, and Joe's finger quickly slid
all the way in. The poor girl's hormones started to flow. She could feel herself
starting to get horny as Joe pulled his finger out and plunged it back in,
finger-fucking the confused girl.

It's my only chance at self-respect with these fuckers, she thought to herself,
and began again. This time she got as far as the line "Totally unprepared am I,
to face a world of men," when Brown leaned over and kissed her neck, right behind
the ear. No man had ever kissed her there, and it sent a shiver of delight
through her young body. She didn't cry out, but she stopped singing for an
instant.

"Nope, doesn't count!" White called out from the front seat. "We said you had to
sing it perfectly."

Tiffany started over. Joe's finger continued to frig in and out of her pussy,
feeling better and better. Brown continued to kiss her neck, which felt
incredibly good, and both men were pawing her breasts and nipples.

She had barely sung a few words when Joe placed his thumb against her clit and
began to rub.

"Ohhhhh, please, stop, stop, don't do this to me!" she cried out. She felt so
alone, so exposed, so humiliated. She was trying to just complete one simple
task, sing a song she knew well, and she couldn't even do that. Her mind was
confused, but her body wasn't. Every inch of her was responding to the caresses
and touches of the men who had pinned her down in the backseat.

"I am 16, going on 17," she started again. Joe and John Brown let her sing,
keeping their touches light, till she got to the lines "I need someone older and
wiser, telling me what to do," and then Brown bent his head down and placed his
mouth over her erect nipple and started to tongue it, while Joe pushed a second
finger up inside her.

"Uhhhhhhh," Tiffany moaned. Her head rolled back against the seat, her eyes
closed. She was lost in a delirium of overwhelming sexual desire.

"You want us to keep doing this?" whispered Brown.

"Oh, God, I don't know," moaned Tiffany. "No. Don't. Stop."

"Don't stop?" asked Black with a nasty smile. His fingers were churning inside
the tormented girl, his thumb expertly manipulating her clit, which was now pink
and throbbing. Tiffany's hips started rotating, almost without her knowing it, as
she thrust her pelvis forward into Black's hand, while Brown continued kissing
her hard little nipples.

"Since Tiffany doesn't seem up to singing," said White from the driver's seat,
"you guys mind if I offer a little tune? It's Rolf's part from the same song, and
kind of appropriate."

The principal launched into the song in a strong, forceful baritone:

"You are sixteen going on seventeen Baby, it's time to think Better beware and
canny and careful Baby, you're on the brink You are sixteen going on seventeen
Fellows will fall in line Eager young lads and roues and cads Will offer you food
and wine Totally unprepared are you to face a world of men Timid and shy and
scared are you Of things beyond your ken You need someone older and wiser Telling
you what to do, I am seventeen going on eighteen I'll take care of you!"

Tiffany vaguely heard the deep male voice, telling her she needed someone telling
her what to do. She had stopped even trying to sing her part. Her body had taken
over, and she was inching closer and closer to orgasm. She moaned, thrust her
tender young breasts out, humped her pussy frantically against Black's fingers.

"Oh yes! Oh yes!" she cried out. She teetered on the verge of a powerful teenaged
orgasm

"Whoops, here we are fellows!" called out White as he turned into the shopping
mall. "Time to look sharp."

Black and Brown immediately pulled themselves off of the writhing, humping
schoolgirl, which took more discipline than they'd ever thought possible.

Tiffany didn't know what had happened. One moment she had been on the brink of
cumming, then everything had stopped.

"Please?" she asked plaintively.

"Please what, baby?" asked Joe, teasing.

"Please don't stop what you were doing," she said softly. If her hands hadn't
been cuffed behind her, Tiffany thought, she would have finished herself off
right there in front of them. God, everything had felt so good. Her heart was
pounding, she was shaking and sweaty, she wanted to cum so damn bad!

"I don't think so," White ordered.

"Pleeeeeeese," begged Tiffany.

"Let's hear what you want," White said briskly.

"I want to, you know," Tiffany said. She knew they knew. She was beyond shame,
she decided. She had to cum.

"I want to have an orgasm," she begged.

"Maybe later," White said coldly.

Tiffany lifted her head and opened her eyes, and looked right into the lens of
the video camcorder. Green, in the passenger seat of the Navigator, had been
taping her the whole time.

"Smile," her teacher said, "you're on Candid Camera."

Tiffany wanted to cry.

"Joe, get those balls into her like we planned," White said. Black reached into a
bag on the floor and pulled out a small box, extracting two small metal objects
slightly smaller than ping-pong balls.

"Here ya go, babe, just so you don't get that empty feeling inside," Joe said,
and pushed one ben-wa ball, then the other after it, up inside Tiffany's swollen,
sopping wet pussy. They were cold, but strangely, Tiffany didn't mind. She was
slowly getting used to having something inside her young pussy.

"Those will have a real interesting effect on you when you're walking around in
the mall," White said, and all the men laughed. Tiffany didn't understand but
knew, with dread, that she would eventually.

"Let's help her get dressed guys," White added. Tiffany was still horny and
wanted to cum so badly, but she had no choice, with her legs still trapped and
her hands cuffed. She wasn't going to be allowed to cum just yet, and she still
had to endure whatever they had planned for her in the mall.

She looked out the darkened SUV window and could see the bright light malls of
the mall in the distance.

"And just to remind you, you never did manage to sing the song all the way
through, you little slut-monkey," Green mocked her from the front seat as he
stowed the camcorder in his shoulder bag.

"Yeah, dog-fucker," said Brown.

"This is gonna be a shopping trip you'll never forget, babe," Black whispered in
her ear.

The teenager shuddered, partly from the lust that still boiled in her hard young
body, partly from pure fear.


* * *


CHAPTER 6

THE ONE ABOUT THE HIGH PRICE OF HIGH HEELS

The words still echoed in Tiffany's head: "You need someone older and wiser,
telling you what to do."

Sweet God, thought the befuddled, horny teenager. Her tormentors had even taken
something innocent and precious to her, "The Sound of Music," which she'd
performed in last year, and turned it into something she would now think of only
with shame and humiliation. She was being told what to do by men older than her,
but not the way the song meant.

"May I ask a question, please?" she asked meekly as Joe Black released her from
the handcuffs, freeing her trapped arms."

"Sure thing, slut," said Mr. Brown.

"What are those things you put, uh, you know..." She couldn't bear to bring
herself to say where she meant. "You know, inside me," she finished."

"You mean stuffed up your little teenaged pussy?" responded Brown. "Those are
ben-wa balls, baby. God, you really are such a child! They're hollow metal balls,
partially filled with mercury. Women use them to masturbate. They fit snugly up
inside that pussy of yours, and when you walk, they shift their center of gravity
over and over, stimulating the inside of your pussy. The sensations, I'm told,
are quite delicious."

Tiffany shuddered at the thought of these awful foreign objects inside her most
private place.

"The thing is, as I understand, a woman will usually sit in a rocking chair when
she has the ben-was in place and rock and play with her clit. The result is a
spectacular orgasm for the woman. For you, though, it's likely to be mostly just
an exercise in frustration, cause you're going to be walking around the mall. You
won't be able to finger yourself to get yourself off, although if you want to, we
probably won't stop you, so long as it's some place nice and public, like the
food court. Mainly, as we see it, you'll just be in a heightened state of
horniness for our little shopping trip."

Brown smiled diabolically. Tiffany, stunned at how much trouble they were going
to, just looked down and bit her lip.

The men helped her back into her clothes, all except for her bra, which they told
her she didn't need.

"Those 16-year-old tits are so perfectly perky you should never wear a bra,
babe," said Joe Black. "They'll get more bounce that way when you walk. Guys like
that!" Finally Tiffany was dressed - jeans, blouse, sneakers, no bra - and they
all got out of the SUV. She realized she had no idea where they were, that during
the long ride of torment she had been paying attention to what was being done to
her in the backseat rather than where they were going.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"This is Southlands Mall, in Bernard," said Principal White. "About 30 miles away
from town. We figured there's a lot less chance of being spotted and recognized
here than if we went to the mall back in town. Last thing any of us needs is to
be spotted hanging around outside school hours with our school's prettiest
cheerleader, particularly when she's doing what you're going to be doing here at
Southlands."

"Please, sirs, I'm begging you, can we just go home?" Tiffany implored. She was
trembling with anxiety, and still a little lust from being brought so close to
orgasm by the men and then stopped right before her climax.

"Of course not, bitch. We've gone to a lot of trouble to set this up," said
White. "Now listen carefully, because once we get inside, I don't want to have to
be repeating these directions for you over and over. You can make this simple, or
you can make this complicated. The simple way is you do exactly what we say for
the next hour, no questions, no tears, no trying to alert mall security, and
after an hour, we go home. The hard way is you give us any shit, or fail to
follow our instructions precisely. If that's the case, then my friend starts
sending out those videos. We'll probably be able to add a few more minutes onto
the part with the cock-sucking and the masturbating and the appearance of drug
abuse of little Tiffany, naked, singing "I am Sixteen, Going on Seventeen," if
Mr. Green here got a nice tight closeup that crops out the men to your sides.

"You understand so far?"

"Yes sir," Tiffany said quietly.

"So you're going to get yourself some new clothes tonight, stuff you can wear to
school from now on. Here's how it will work. We'll see something in a store
window and tell you what we want you to get. You go into the store, and one or
more of us will go in with you, but we will pretend like we're not together. You
don't acknowledge us, we don't acknowledge you. But we'll be keeping an eye on
you to make sure you keep our deal. You try on the item or items and make sure
they fit. Whether you like them or not is irrelevant. If we're doing our job,
you'll probably hate 'em, but tough shit. You take them to the cashier, who we'll
have scoped out in advance, and who will be male. Tell him you want to buy this,
but you don't have any money, and could you pay for it instead with a blow job."
White paused to watch her reaction.

The color drained from Tiffany's beautiful young face. "What?" she shrieked,
forgetting where she was. "I can't! I won't! I'll scream for help!" They were
asking to offer oral sex to strange men in a shopping mall.

"You scream for help, missy," said the girl's principal, "and out go the tapes,
complete with name, address and phone number. By the way, isn't your daddy
running for City Council? We better make sure we add his opponent, and the news
media, to the list of recipients. Make a helluva of a campaign issue! Charles
Daniel's Teenage Daughter in Sex and Drug Video Scandal! What a headline!"

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" shouted Tiffany, holding her hands over her ears as if she
could block out the torture. "I'll do it, I'll do it!"

"That a girl," said White. "So as I was saying, you offer the clerk or the
cashier or whoever the blowjob. Maybe there's a backroom you can use, maybe a
dressing room, maybe you have to go to the mall men's room and find a stall.
Picture that. Tiffany Daniels, the cock-teasing princess of Daniels High, down on
her bare knees on a men's room floor, swallowing a stranger's jism. It will
certainly be in your best interest, once you get started, to make it nice and
quick. Suck his cock, swallow his cum, and meet back up with us.

"Simple as that," concluded the principal.

Tiffany could barely speak. She started to hyperventilate in panic and outrage.
She wanted to cry, or run, or kill these men. None of those was an option. Her
only option was to do as they told her.

"Give me your purse," ordered Mr. White. He took the girl's purse and gave it to
Mr. Green, who stuffed it into his shoulder bag with the video camera. "Now you
have no money, no charge cards, no ID. You're not Tiffany Daniels, spoiled little
rich girl any more. You're the Blowjob Queen of Southlands Mall.

"Let's go," said Mr. White jauntily, and Tiffany and the four men walked to the
mall. Almost immediately, the sexy cheerleader felt the ben-wa balls start to
move in her pussy. It was a strange sensation, really rather pleasant. She was
still wet from her masturbation session with the dildo and then the
finger-fucking in the back of the Lincoln Navigator, and the slick balls slipped
and tumbled inside of her.

Their first stop in the mall was an upscale shoe store. White, who was clearly
running the show tonight, told her to stop, and the cheerleader and her
tormentors all looked in the window.

"I kinda like that pair there," said Old Joe, pointing to a pair of sexy black
open-toed pumps with 5-inch stiletto heels. The price tag in front of them read
$79.95.

"Nice choice, Joe," said the principal. "But do you think a blowjob even from a
stone-fuckin' fox like Miss Daniels here is worth $80?" There was no one else
standing nearby, and the men were talking about her like she was some sort of
street prostitute! Tiffany burned with shame.

"Oh, easily," said Joe. "I'm sure she lacks a certain expertise, since I haven't
sampled her yet, but just look at those lips. The chick looks so much like that
Kournikova girl that plays tennis, that's worth a lot right there."

"Well I've had a blow job from her," chimed in Brown, the math teacher who
started it all, "and while she's not a seasoned pro yet, when my dick started to
spurt down her throat, I would have gladly paid $500 on the spot. Course, I was
getting it for free!" He laughed, and the other men laughed with him. Tiffany
wanted to die.

"OK," said White, turning to Tiffany. "Go in there and get those shoes. You know
what to do. We'll be watching you. And do exactly as you've been told, or the
whole world gets a special video treat starting tomorrow."

The cheerleader swallowed hard. Her stomach felt like lead. She walked into the
shoe store, still feeling the metal balls churning and churning inside her pussy.

"Hi, excuse me," she said to the salesman. He was a middle-aged man, about her
father's age, but obviously just a clerk in a mall shoe-store at night: a little
dumpy, dressed in polyester, no wedding ring. His pin= on name tag said Jim.

"May I help you, miss?" His eyes glittered as he took in the ravishing teen girl
before him.

"I'd like to try on that, uh, pair of shoes in the window," Tiffany said
nervously, pointing.

After Tiffany gave her size, the clerk went to get a pair from the window, and
she sat down. White and Green had entered the shoestore and were standing at a
display, pretending to be engrossed.

Jim returned with the shoes and tried them on her feet. Tiffany stood up - Whoa!
They were by far the tallest heels she had ever had on. She swayed precariously
and grabbed the clerk's shoulder for balance. He grinned and quickly slipped his
arm around her waist, as if to steady her, but actually just to brush up against
that firm teenie flesh.

"Take a few steps and see how you like them," the clerk said. He was so engrossed
in Tiffany that he hadn't even noticed the two male "customers."

Tiffany took a few wobbling steps. Normally a healthy five foot seven, she was an
Amazon in the shoes, six feet tall. She could feel the muscles in her legs moving
differently than they ever had before, stretching and pulling, and she also felt
the ben-wa balls inside of her moving in a more stimulating way. The heels
changed the way she walked, she realized, causing her to thrust her pelvis out,
arch her back to maintain her balance. She was starting to walk more like a
provocative slut and less like the normal teenaged girl she still desperately
wanted to remain.

As she wobbled around the store, getting used to the high heels, her large,
lovely breasts bounced more than usual in her blouse. Freed of their bra, the
nipples rubbed against the cotton fabric and the stimulation began to make them
erect. Soon her teenaged nipples were poking straight out through the shirt, with
no bra to hold them back. All the while, the ben-wa balls stuffed up inside her
rolled and rolled, a constant reminder of her horniness.

She walked back to Jim and spoke to him in a low voice. "Can I talk to you
privately, please?" she whispered.

Jeez, thought Jim, what's up with this chick? The middle-aged clerk saw her
nipples poking out, obviously braless, and now she was coming on all
husky-voiced. He took her by the elbow and steered her toward the back of the
store, with Tiffany hobbling and wobbling along, trying to keep up.

"I, uh, mister, uh," she stammered. She could barely make herself speak the
unspeakable words. But her two tormentors were still in the store, stealing
covert glances at her, and she knew what the penalty would be if she didn't
follow through: not just humiliation in front of her friends and family, but
Internet postings of her name and address that could get her stalked and raped.

The beleaguered cheerleader forced herself to do what she must. "I don't have
money for these shoes, but I really want them," she blurted out. "If you'll let
me have them, I'll, uh, you know..." She stopped again.

"No, I don't know," said Jim, but his cock was beginning to get an idea. It
stirred in his slacks. What was this little slut up to?

"I'll, uh, make you cum."

"Yes!" thought Jim. "Thank you Jesus!"

"I think we can work something out," said Jim. "Excuse me, gentleman," he shouted
at the two men hovering in the front of the store. "I have to close up for a few
minutes. Out ya go!"

Mr. White and Mr. Green exchanged smiles and willingly left. Jim slid the glass
front of the store closed and locked it.

"I'm all yours, little lady," he leered. "Now more specifically, what did you
have in mind?"

"Can we go in the back room?" Tiffany said quietly, close to tears.

Jim steered the trembling schoolgirl into a backroom, and unbuckled his belt. His
pants fell to his ankles, and Tiffany could see the outline of his erection
throbbing in his jockeys.

Tiffany took a deep breath. She could either drag this out and take all night, or
get it over with and get home, safe in her own bed. There was only one way out.
She dropped to her knees in front of the clerk, pulled his shorts down, and
engulfed his cock in her warm teenaged mouth.

"Oh yeah, baby, suck that rod," the salesman said. "You can have all the shoes
you want anytime you want, baby."

It was the first time young Tiffany had given a blowjob on her own. Her first
time she had been drugged and her mouth little more than a receptacle. The second
time, her principal had fucked her mouth and forced her. Now it was up to her to
figure out what to do.

It didn't take long for the girl to learn. The salesman held the sides of her
head and started sliding his cock in and out of her mouth.

"Use your tongue, baby, and lick the underside," he ordered. She did, running her
pink tongue along the bottom of his shaft and then around its thick purple head.

"Oh yeah, baby, that's it."

Tiffany felt the cock moving in and out, sometimes pushing so far into her mouth
that she almost gagged. She didn't even think to use her hands, and it didn't
occur to Jim to tell her, because it wasn't necessary. Jim had had three blowjobs
in his entire life, and all three of those from hookers, and to have a sexy young
girl come into his store, drop to her knees and start sucking him off was beyond
his wildest sexual fantasy. He felt the sperm building in his balls.

On her end, Tiffany felt the head of Jim's cock start to swell. He was pushing in
harder and faster now, and his grip on her head tightened. Her knees hurt from
the concrete storeroom floor, and her humiliation knew no bounds. She wished the
earth would swallow her whole.

"Here it comes, slut!" shouted Jim, and suddenly the cock in her mouth erupted,
shooting stream after stream of thick white jism onto her tongue and straight
down her throat. She started to spit it out, but remembered somehow in the back
of her mind her orders were to swallow, so she started gulping.

It had been more than a week since Jim had masturbated, and he had a huge reserve
of salty semen for the kneeling cheerleader. She swallowed over and over, eight,
nine, ten times, and finally Jim's cock was quiet.

She arose from her kneeling position awkwardly, stood again on the high heels.

Jim pulled his pants back up.

"Could I interest you in another pair of shoes?" he asked with big grin.

"God no!" Tiffany blurted. Now that she had followed her orders, she wanted to
get out of the shoe store so badly she could scream. She walked quickly toward
the front of the store and Jim, reluctantly, let her out. As he watched her walk
away, he wondered if this was where those letters to the editors of Penthouse
came from. And here all along he thought they were made up!


* * *


CHAPTER 7

THE ONE WHERE OUR GIRL GETS MALLED

As soon as Tiffany left the shoe store, White fell in right beside her.

"I see you got the shoes," he noted with approval. "Nice job. Now let me smell
your breath."

Tiffany was too dazed and befuddled with all the demands and orders that she
didn't even pause to wonder about the strange request. She opened her mouth and
exhaled.

"Ah yes, the smell of cum in a young girl's mouth," White said quietly. "Nothing
like it. Better than napalm in the morning."

Tiffany had no idea what her principal was talking about. She just wanted to get
this horrible trip to the mall over with.

The other men joined them. "We found some nice clothes over at the Gap," said Joe
Black as the four walked along.

"Lead on," said White, and soon Tiffany found herself walking into the Gap, this
time with the Daniels school janitor, a man she normally would not even
acknowledge, but who now controlled her as surely as if she were a marionette and
he the puppeteer.

"There's a pile of clothes I gathered up in the far right rear corner," Black
whispered to her. "There's six items. Take the black skirt off the top, try it on
in the dressing room, and wear it out. Get the other clothes and find the clerk
named Ralph. Make him your offer." Black turned and walked back out of the store;
he knew that even in the '90s you just didn't see a black man and a pretty white
girl chumming around together in a suburban mall at night.

Tiffany found the pile right where Joe had assembled them, took them into a
dressing room and stripped it off her jeans. She pulled out the black skirt and
was puzzled - surely it was way too small! Her teenaged hips were not wide, but
they were certainly voluptuous and full. No way she would fit into this!~

She pulled the skirt up and found it was made of Spandex, and stretched to fit.
She tugged it over her thighs, up to her waist. Jeez, this sucker was tight! But
finally it was in place.

The black Spandex skirt was a micro-mini. When Tiffany looked in the dressing
room mirror, she couldn't believe her eyes. It clung to her like a large black
rubber band. That's practically what it was, anyway. It came down to just two
inches below her crotch, and the bottom moons of the cheeks of her ass were half
an inch away from being plainly visible.

Still, she knew what she had to do. She pulled the black high-heeled pumps back
on, gathered up her old jeans and the other new clothes and went off to find
Ralph.

"Just get through this, just get through this," she kept telling herself.

Every person in the Gap stopped what they were doing and stared at the stunning
teenager as she strolled through the store. Inside her white blouse, her
unfettered breasts bounced freely, showing off the hint of darkness around each
nipple. The micro-mini clung to her ass and crotch as it if was spray-painted on.
Her long bare legs were tanned and magnificent. And the high heels made her walk
with a hooker's strut, rolling her hips and pelvis. (What no observer could see
were the ben-wa balls turning and churning inside Tiffany's pussy, ratcheting up
her awareness of her own sexuality with every step). She looked like she was
auditioning for a Penthouse video.

"Yo, babe, check it out. Nice walk!" called a black teenager. Tiffany ignored
him. When she approached the check-out counter, she spied the clerk named Ralph.
This one, at least, was someone closer to her own age, maybe about 18, and not
bad-looking. He wore khakis and a polo shirt, and was decent enough looking that
under other circumstances, Tiffany might have even talked to him.

"Hi," she said. "I need to talk to you privately for a minute."

"Sure thing, ma'am" said the boy. Tiffany's stomach fluttered a bit. He had a
sexy voice, and kind eyes, and she was horny, and she knew what she was going to
do to this boy in just a few minutes, and that thought, somehow, made her
hornier. What had been sick and disgusting back with the shoe store clerk was now
seeming not so terrible. If only she could get off too! But that would take more
time, and more explaining, and she couldn't imagine what she would tell the boy
about the metal balls inside her.

"I want to get that stack of clothes I left up on the counter," she told Ralph
once they were in a corner, "but I, uh, my purse was stolen." She didn't know why
she lied, she just wanted to think of some way to save face. "So maybe I could do
something real nice for you in exchange for the clothes."

Ralph looked the sweet high school student up and down. He knew he would get
fired if he was caught, and he wasn't sure what she had in mind, but he had to
find out.

"There's an employee men's room in the back," he said. "Follow me." He marched
through a curtain and Tiffany followed him into the men's room, where he turned
and locked the door from the inside.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ralph asked.

"No, but I have to," Tiffany answered honestly.

"You don't have to do anything," Ralph said. "If you want to trade clothes for
sex, I won't say no, but wouldn't it be nicer if we went somewhere and made love
properly? Then you could come back and I'd give you some clothes. I mean, this is
kinda tacky," he concluded, gesturing at the squalidness of the men's room.

"I know," said Tiffany. Her mind was reeling. This boy was actually very nice. He
said things like "make love" where all the other men just talked about sucking
their cocks. He was good-looking, and he smelled nice. In another world, she
would have dated him, maybe, gone to a movie, maybe gone parking down by the lake
and made out. But that was not Tiffany's world right now. She knew Old Joe and
the others would be waiting outside, waiting to smell her breath and degrade and
debase her further. She steeled herself, reached out a hand and unzipped Ralph's
khakis.

"I'd love to chat," she said, trying to sound nice, "but right now I just have to
give you a blow job."

Ralph had tried to do the right thing, but he was, after all, a teenage boy, with
a lovely girl squatting down and unzipping his fly and pulling his dick out with
her tender fingers. He sprang to life, hard as a steel bar, and knew he wasn't
going to be offering this little slut any more alternatives.

Tiffany leaned forward and placed her lips around the head of Ralph's prick.
"Ohmigod!" the boy moaned softly. "You are so sexy!"

Pleased at the compliment, Tiffany reached a hand into his open fly and began to
fondle his balls. Although the ben-wa balls were stationary, her pussy was
suddenly leaking a trickle of juice than ran down her thigh. Her clit was
throbbing, and she thought about reaching down with her other hand, pulling her
panties aside and masturbating while she sucked the teenaged boy. But she forced
herself to focus. Even though this was much nicer than her previous blow jobs,
the goal was to get the evening over with.

The blonde cheerleader pulled her mouth off the engorged dick, then stuck her
tongue out and swirled it over and over the head. Ralph moaned and leaned back
against the bathroom wall. Tiffany leaned forward, her gorgeous red lips open
wide, and ran her mouth all the way down onto his cock as far as she could
manage. His kinky pubic hairs tickled her nose. She pulled back, then started
bobbing her head up and down, faster and and faster. Her hand seemed to be on
automatic pilot, rolling his testicles around in his scrotum. She could feel them
start to inch upward and his scrotum tighten as his orgasm approached.

"Oh yes, ohhhhh yes," the boy moaned. Tiffany pussy spasmed slightly. She was so
damned turned on. She had never been this horny in her young life. She reached
down with her free hand without even thinking, pulled aside her panties and
started rubbing her exposed pink clit with two fingers.

Suddenly, Ralph's cock exploded into her mouth, pulsing out wave after wave of
hot boy semen. She started swallowing dutifully, and kept working her clit,
faster and faster, approaching her own climax.

Sated, Ralph pulled his cock from the girl's hot mouth with a "pop" as the
suction of her lips was broken. The blowjob was over, but she still hadn't cum!
Without the cock in her mouth, she was suddenly very aware of who she was and
what she was doing: squatting on a men's room floor masturbating furiously in
front of a total stranger! My God, she thought, what was happening to her. She
pulled her hand away from her sopping wet crotch, and the spell was completely
broken. She had once again come so close to an orgasm, only to fall short.

Ralph was zipping up his pants. There was nothing for Tiffany to do but stand up
and smile, weakly.

"Thank you, thank you thank you," blabbed the lucky Gap clerk. Boy, would he have
some story to tell his friends! He wished he had a Polaroid camera to take a
picture of this vision of loveliness, dressed like a total whore, standing in
front of him with a tiny dribble of his semen at the the corner of her mouth.

"You're welcome," was all Tiffany could manage as her well-bred manners
automatically took over.

"Can I have your phone number?" Ralph asked. "I could call you..."

Tiffany thought it was wonderful that he was still acting as if they had met in
the food court after a basketball game, but she was in enough trouble and wasn't
about to give her number to a boy who thought she gave out blow jobs all the
time. She declined, scooped up the clothes, stuffed them in a large Gap bag that
had been left in the restroom and beat it out of there without even saying
goodbye.

Ralph stood forlornly and watched her go.

Click click click went Tiffany's heels as she walked quickly along the tile floor
of the mall. Swish swish went the round globes of her ass under the tight black
mini, back and forth, mesmerizing every male in the mall. She saw Old Joe coming
toward her. He smiled when he saw the Gap bag in her hand.

"Well done, little missy. By the way, in case you didn't have time to have a
proper conversation with young Ralph, he's on the baketball team of the local
high school. I believe they're our opponent for homecoming." He smiled a toothy
grin.

Every time Tiffany thought her ordeal had reached the bottom, it got worse. Now
she would have to go out on the court Friday night in her cheerleader uniform and
Ralph would be telling all his teammates about how that blonde cheerleader had
sucked him off a few nights ago in the mall. Her face burned with shame.

Old Joe told her to walk on ahead until she met Tom Green, who would direct her
to her next store. That store turned out to be The Rave, and this time Green
walked right in with her. Tiffany had never been in this kind of store, which
sold hippie clothes, punk garb, Goth stuff, some surfer garb. Heavy metal played
loudly on the stereo, and black light posters of skulls, bare-breasted witches
and cartoon dogs fucking hung on the walls. A glass case along one wall contained
bongs, buttons with sayings like "Cure Virginity," temporary Harley tattoos. It
wasn't really a rough place, it was just for suburban wannabes, kids who didn't
have the guts to get a real tattoo but would get one that would come off in a
week.

It was still enough to scare Tiffany, who was more used to shopping at stores
like the Gap with daddy's American Express.

"In here, no one will think it's weird if we're together," Green was saying as he
put his arm around her shoulder. "You're my girlfriend, if anyone even cares to
ask. We'll pick out some clothes, and then I'll let you arrange payment." He
chuckled.

Green led her to a stack of halter tops. He picked one that said "Porn Star"
across the front in glitter letters. Another said "Stop Looking at My Tits!" One
had no words, but was white and so sheer it was almost transparent. She might as
well wrap Saran Wrap around her tits, Tiffany thought. Green put them all in a
pile for "purchase," then found what he was looking for and said "A ha!"

The halter was black, like her shoes and her skirt, and across the front, in
large silver script, it read: "JUST DO ME." Underneath was a Nike swoosh.. It
probably broke all kinds of counterfeiting laws, but The Rave staff didn't care
much about such niceties.

"This is the one I want you to wear the rest of the night," Green told the
frightened girl.

"Do they have it in a bigger size?" she asked. "I think that one will be too
small."

"Nonsense," said Green. "Here, let's try it on."

"You mean in the dressing room?"

"No, I mean right here, my little video star." Green turned to the man behind the
counter. "Hey, dude, you mind if my girlfriend here tries on a halter top without
using a dressing room?" he said in a voice loud enough for everyone in the store
to hear.

The guy behind the counter was large and hefty, a beefy guy who looked like a
biker even though he wasn't. He had a handlebar moustache and long black hair
tied back in a ponytail, and the sleeves of his black T-shirt were cut off,
showing off his muscles. His right bicep bore the tattoo "Pretty Fucking
Dangerous" under a skull smoking a cigarette.

"Knock yourself out, man," he said with a big smile.

"Please don't make do this," Tiffany begged. She tried to make herself look sweet
and vulnerable and pitiful to Mr. Green.

"I'll make you a deal," he said. "If you try on the halter right here where
you're standing, I'll let you off the hook with blowing Mr. Dangerous over
there. I'm a little worried about him. He looks like the kind of guy who might
really hurt you, might want to slap you around a little if he has you alone in
back. He might even have a knife and want to cut you a little." Green was laying
it on thick, terrifying the already frightened girl, whose trembling had started
again.

Tiffany was about to pee on the floor she was so scared. Mr. Green was right, the
biker behind the counter did look very mean indeed. If Green left her alone in
the store and she had to offer him a blow job, it might be a much uglier
experience than dorky Jim in the shoe store or sweet Ralph at the Gap.

"You mean I have to be p-p-partially naked right here in the store?" she
stammered.

"Yup, and you'd better get moving, little video star, or I'll walk over there to
Mr. Dangerous and tell him what he's about to get in five minutes. Once he
focuses on getting his dick in your mouth, there won't be anything either one of
us can do." Green was playing the teen like a violin.

Tiffany felt sick, but knew she had no choice. She glanced around nervously and
started to move behind a display.

Green stopped her. "Right there where you're standing," he ordered. "If you get
to skip a blow job, the other guys are gonna be pissed and want to know why, and
I need to be able to tell them it was a fair trade- off."

Actually, Tiffany didn't realize that her three other tormentors were standing
right outside the entrance, blocking the door, which served two purposes. First,
it prevented mall security from wandering in unannounced. Second, Brown had the
video camera out and was getting the whole thing on tape to add to the Tiffany
Blackmail Video. The men had already scoped out The Rant and figured out this
variation in their plan.

"Better get busy with those buttons," Green told her. "And smile, baby. Don't
think of it as showing off those pretty tits of yours. Think of it as avoiding a
nasty encounter with Mr. Dangerous back there."

Tiffany swallowed hard. The room seemed to be wavering again, but this time there
were no drugs in her system. She knew what she had to do, and began unbuttoning
her white blouse. When all the buttons were undone, she reached out to the halter
top Green was holding. The teacher stepped back out of her reach.

"No, first the shirt comes all the way off. Lay it on the floor, and then ask me
politely for the top."

Tiffany cursed him under her breath, then slid the blouse over her shoulder and
down her arms. It fell to the floor, and the 16-year-old cheerleader was standing
naked from the waist up in the middle of the store.

She realized the store was utterly quiet. Two teenage girls who had been looking
through the clothes and stopped and were staring at her. The ugly man behind the
counter was ogling her magnificent tits too, and from somewhere in the back, two
teenaged boys had appeared and started pointing and nudging each other. The poor
girl wanted to die.

Tiffany instinctively crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hands at your sides, Tiffany. Get 'em there this second, or I'll ask some of
these guys to come over and hold them there."

With that, the tattooed man bounded out from behind the counter and was at
Tiffany's side even before she could obey. "You need some help here, boss?" he
asked. "Little lady causing you problems?"

"I don''t know," Green answered. "Are you causing me problems, Tiffany? Do we
need this gentleman to assist us?" The burly man towered over Tiffany and stared
straight at her cleavage.

"No, sir," Tiffany said, and slowly lowered her arms to her sides. Her 36-inch
breasts, capped with the beautiful pink nipples, were on display for all the
world to see.

"Oh, man!" said one of the teen boys in a voice louder than he intended. "Check
out that rack! Jesus Christ!"

"Please, sir, may I have the top?" Tiffany said, her voice steely. It was taking
all her will power not to run screaming from the store.

"Let's ask our salesperson," Green said, taunting the girl. "Do you think she'll
look good in this?" He held up the black "JUST DO ME" halter.

"I don't know, man," said the man, playing along with the game. He wasn't sure
what kind of weird shit these people were into, but he was willing to see where
it went. "It's kind of small, and those tits of hers are awfully big."

"How big are they, Tiffany?" Green asked.

"Please, please, please, sir," the schoolgirl begged. "Can I just have the top?"

"Not until we find out how big your tits are," Green replied. "What's your bra
size, honey? We need to know to make sure we get this fitting right."

"36 C, goddamn it!" Tiffany spat.

"Yup, they look about that size," said Mr. Green. "Here, you can have the top,
but since this gentleman works here, I think maybe he ought to help you into it.
And that's the only condition you can have the top."

Tiffany started to shiver. It was cold in the store, and her nipples were getting
hard. The metalhead music blared, and the teen boys were now giggling like Beavis
and Butthead. The two girls had crept closer as well, and the customers formed a
ring around Tiffany, staring and pointing. She knew she had to do whatever Green
said or he would just keep her standing here with everyone staring at her naked
breasts.

"OK," Tiffany said softly.

"OK what?" Mr. Green asked.

"OK, he can help me try it on."

"Ask him," Green ordered.

"Would you please help me try this halter top on?" she said to the ugly biker.

"Oh, one more thing, Tiffany," Green said nonchalantly. "To make sure we get the
best fit, I want you to take a real breath and hold it till I tell you to let it
out."

Tiffany knew what the sadistic teacher was doing, but had no choice. She inhaled
a lungful of air, which caused her to stomach to flatten in and her chest to
stick out even more. It looked as if she was deliberately flaunting her fantastic
bare tits at the customers in the store.

Mr Dangerous grinned, and Mr. Green handed him the JUST DO ME top.

At the entrance to The Rave, Roger White was capturing the whole scene on video.

The biker held the tiny top in his meaty paw and eyeballed the scared, half-naked
cheerleader standing in the middle of his store. He slowly untied the two sets of
strings on the back, taking his time. The four other teenagers in the store just
stared. It felt as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the next
move in the strange little drama of dominance and submission.

Mr. Dangerous laid the halter down over the tops of Tiffany's beautifully jutting
breasts, then stepped behind her and pulled the two strings that tied around the
back of her neck. Although her breasts were now partially covered, the pink
nipples, stiff with cold and fear, still poked out for all to see. She wanted
more than anything in the world to cover them, but knew she had to keep her hands
obediently at her sides, or else the whole process would be dragged out even
longer.

The clerk took hold of the bottom of the halter and pulled it gently down over
her breasts, brushing the hairy backs of his hands over her nibbles as he covered
them. The top came down a little below her nipples, but still left sweet-looking
half-moons of teenaged flesh hanging out below.

"Doesn't look like it's gonna cover 'em up, boss," he said to Green. "These
titties are just too big." Tiffany was mortified.

"Let's keep trying, maybe we can make it work," Green replied. Dangerous pulled
the second set of strings behind Tiffany's bare back and tied them there.

"OK, you can exhale, Tiffany," said Green. She did, but even as her body regained
its usual shape, it was apparent to all in the store that the halter top just
barely covered her. In addition to the breastmeat that hung out the bottom, she
was flashing as much cleavage as if she was wearing a Wonderbra, and only a
Wonderbra. The small amount of black fabric that covered the middles of her
breasts and the still-erect nipples was stretched extremely tight, and the logo
JUST DO ME was slightly distorted, but still readable.

"What do you think?" Green asked the burly clerk.

"Well, I liked her better with her tits hanging out," he answered honestly, and
the teen boys watching nodded furiously in agreement, still speechless. "But it
does make her look pretty fuckin' hot, I gotta say that."

"Tiffany, do you think you look pretty fuckin' hot?" Green asked.

The tormented teenager didn't know what she was supposed to answer. She decided
the best course was to quickly agree with everything, just to get the ordeal over
with. "Yes sir," she whimpered meekly.

"I'm worried that when you leave the store and start bouncing through the mall,
your tits are gonna pop right out of that top," Green told her. "So hold your
arms very firmly against your sides." Tiffany did so, and the effect was to push
her bosoms out even more, accentuating the cleavage.

"Very good," Green said. "And since you have your arms holding the sides of your
new halter in place, you won't be needing this." And he deftly reached around and
untied the strings stretched across her back. Tiffany instantly knew that she had
to keep her arms locked at her sides, that any release in the pressure on the
sides of the halter would probably cause it to pop right off her chest, so tight
was the fit.

"Tell you what," Green said to the tattooed clerk. "How about giving us the
halter in exchange for the little show we put on?" There was no disagreement,
only a big grin and a nod.

"So, let's go, sweetie," Green said, and guided Tiffany by the elbow toward the
entrance, where she saw her principal clicking off the video camera that had
captured the entire humiliating display.

As the young girl walked out of the store and into the mall, she realized how
vulnerable she was. The high heels made her walk unsteady. The ben-wa balls began
slooshing around again inside her wet teenaged pussy, sending wonderful erotic
messages throughout her confused body. She had to keep her arms locked down at
her sides as she walked. From behind, she was naked from the neck to her ankles,
except for the micro- mini skirt that clung tightly to her hips. From the front,
she had a little more covering, but was advertising herself as the biggest slut
in the world with the JUST DO ME logo on her shirt. It was all she could do to
keep walking, and yet she knew that was her only hope of eventually getting out
of the mall.

"One final touch, bitch-baby, and then we're done here and ready to go home,"
White told her. As he pulled her into a small alcove of pay phones that was
fortunately empty. He reached into a Spenser's Gifts bag and pulled out a plastic
tiara, the kind little girls would wear for dress- up. It was silver and crusted
with cheap rhinestones, and the plastic had been molded in front to spell out the
word "PRINCESS."

"Since you think you're such a princess," White told the girl, "We thought we
should make it official." He put the tiara on Tiffany's head, adjusted it, and
tucked its clips into her hair. Somehow the tiara was the worst touch of all to
the girl. The slutty clothing was at least a coherent ensemble, but the tiara was
like a sick joke, and just called even more attention to her, if that was
possible.

"You can take a stroll up the length of the mall and back again, by yourself,"
White told her, "and then we'll take you back to school." He pulled out the video
camera. "And make it look like you're enjoying yourself. We're not quite done
with our evening yet; there's more to come when we get back to school. If you put
on a good show here at the mall, maybe we'll go a little easy on you when we get
back. But if you look like you're miserable, we'll just have to think of some
more things to do. Think we can come up with any, fellows?" he asked the three
other perverted men in the group.

"Oh, I got a little mental list," whispered Joe Black. " A looooong mental list."

"Get going, babe," White said, and slapped Tiffany hard on her Spandex-covered
ass. She took a few wobbly steps out into the mall.

Once she got going, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. At least it wasn't a
rainy Saturday afternoon, she told herself, when the mall would have been packed.
Or at least it was the Beverly Mall at home, where she couldn't avoid running
into friends and classmates. As she walked, the balls in her pussy worked their
magic, turning and churning, upping her lust level with every step. She tuned out
her surroundings and barely saw the middle aged men who stopped in their tracks
to stare, the boys from The Rave who had hooked up with some friends and were
trailing her every step a few yards back, the disapproving stares of the women
who saw only a cheap slut strutting around, offering her nubile body to every
man. White got the whole thing on video, even the cutaways to the onlookers.

Finally she was finished with her long walk. The whole trip to the mall had only
taken an hour, but it seemed like an eternity to the poor girl. She wondered how
much more abuse she could take from these men, and whether it would get worse.
She knew that so far, none of them had fucked her, and she'd only sucked off two
of them, and she somehow knew, even though she wouldn't let herself dwell on it,
that such a status quo could not possibly last much longer.

Nor would it. The men had carefully timed the evening's events, and knew that if
they left the mall now, and drove quickly back to Beverly, they'd have about half
an hour with Tiffany before she was due home. All four had raging hard-ons based
on what they had done to the school's best-looking cheerleader, and based, as
well, on what they had in store for her when they got back to school.

(Dr. Wu would like to pay homage to James Dawson, whose classic story
"Cheerleader's Torment" provided some of the inspiration for this chapter.)