You find yourself coming out of the blackness, hearing voices. You wonder for a moment if you've gone to the other side, death by suffocation on a big cock. You continue to hear voices all around you that you can't yet understand, and your body feels like it is floating through the air.
SPLASH!!!
You sputter under a deluge of cold water that smacks you in the face and courses down your chest. Your eyes flutter open, and you look quickly about you. A bright flash of light blinds you for a few seconds.
If you've died, you've surely ended up in your own private hell. You're surrounded by the same evil college students that have tormented you all day. It is dark now, and you surmise they had carried your unconscious body to the scene of your college football team's defeat, the Cannondale Conquistadors' brand new stadium. you look around at the empty seats, quite a change from gameday, when you faced a stadium full of people as you cheered on your own team.
Now, the crowd is on the field, in a seeming line, with your chief tormentor, Wendy, at the head. She holds an empty water bucket, and smiles back in an evil sneer when she sees your look of recognition.
"Okay, everybody! She's ready to go now! Photos with the loser cheerslut, five dollars! All proceeds go to the Homecoming Dance! Anything goes, just no sex, and keep the line moving so everyone gets a turn!" Wendy announces, as she tosses away the bucket and claps her hands together to stimulate the crowd. She gestures to her helper to show you the polaroid just snapped.
The Cannondale cheerleader steps up to you and holds the instant picture inches from your face. The raven-haired pepster giggles as she sees your reaction.
The image shows you still in the altered cheer uniform of your school. Now, they have added 'LOSER' in marker on your forehead and the taut muscles of your exposed belly. 'BJ' is printed on each cheek, with an arrow pointing to your still sore lips. 'SUCK ME' is written down the toned flesh of your left thigh, with 'FUCK ME' on the other. Both words have prominent arrows pointing up underneath your altered skirt.
You notice your arms are above your head in the picture, and you suddenly notice the soreness in them as they stretch above you. You look to them, and realize they have bound you to the crossmember of the field's goalpost, the scene of your team's defeat when Cannondale scored a field goal with seconds to go. To add insult to injury, your bindings are old jockstraps knotted around your wrists.
Your attention is brought back to the person beside you. One of the football players poses beside you with a big smile, grabbing a handful of barely shielded tit as the cropped shirt is pulled even higher by your upstretched arms. Your skirt is affected similarly, a glimpse of your bald pussy noticable in the photos.
And so it goes, seemingly forever into the night. You shiver a little, both from the many fondling hands and the fact that your little sweater had been soaked by the water splashed on you earlier. The chilly autumn air goosepimples your skin and causes your thick nipples to indent the cheer sweater embarrassingly. Hands find your privates as they get their chance for a photo op with you, causing mini-orgasms within you despite yourself. Cheerleaders, jocks, geeks, stoners, they all get a chance to humiliate you for the requested sum.
Your eyes grow heavy as the night grows long, you slip in and out of consciousness, but finally you collapse.
What happens when you awake?
-You find yourself in Wendy's bed
-You're in a school bus
-You serve breakfast to the major players
-Blindfolded, you see nothing
Time remaining: 58 hrs. 30 mins. |