As you are pushed to your back on the feather-soft comforter of the college R.A.'s queen-size bed, you look up to see Ellen standing at the head of the bed, on the opposite side from Cathy Swanson.
She manages a shy smile and gives you a stiff-armed wave with her hand. You look from the cheer-uniformed Ellen to Cathy and back again, trying to make some sense of what has just happened.
"I take it this is your 'date' for the weekend, Ellen?" Cathy asks with a still-surly tone. The 5' 10'' parlor-tanned blonde towers over you now as you lay prone before her.
"Yes, Cathy," Ellen manages, forcing a sweet smile.
Cathy leans over you, lifts your shirttails, studies your hard flat abs.
"I think he'll do!" She says noncommittally, looking you over as if she was judging livestock.
"Why don't you strip for us now, stud," Cathy offers, more as instruction than a question. You watch as the R.A. grabs the hem of her over-sized tee and tugs it up and off, leaving her in a lacy black bra and matching thong panty.
You aren't sure you heard Cathy correctly. You thought you heard the coed tell you to strip. The fact that the domineering blonde before you tugged most of what she had been wearing off at the same time didn't help your comprehension, either. Revealed was a body that spent as many hours at work in the gym as she did in the tanning bed.
"Not very well trained, is he, Ellen?" asks Cathy, reaching down to undo your jeans, unzipping them as well.
"Whoa!" you say, surprised at the R.A.'s actions.
You feel a soft hand grasp the arm that is ready to interfere with Cathy's plans. You glance over your shoulder. It is Ellen's.
She leans forward, near your right ear, near-whispering.
"Please, just play along. I promise to make it up to you, tiger!" Ellen says softly, squeezing the flesh of your forearm and giving you a conspiratorial wink , closing one bright blue eye with as crinkle of her eyelid.
You watch, then, as Cathy works your jeans down after undoing your shoes and socks and disposing of them. Your focus is on her little speech, now.
"Part of Ellen's initiation onto the cheer squad is offering a male as a sex slave for the weekend. If you don't do as requested for the next twenty-four hours or so, I'm afraid she will kiss her pom-pons goodbye. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
For the first time you notice a pair of well-used poms, in the Widley colors mounted crossed above Cathy's headboard, a foot or so above your head. Apparently she is the captain, or the coach.
You look up to Ellen again. She smiles that heart-melting smile back at you and grips your hand in hers now. This wasn't quite what you had planned, but how bad could it be, you ponder.
Cathy, meanwhile has grasped your boxers' waistband and stretches it downward. A thick meaty shaft with a bright red bulb at the end springs out in release, nearly bumping the R.A. in the chin as she pulls the elastic wide.
"I guess that answers that question!" Cathy responds, without a glimmer of a smile. Ellen has helped you out of your shirt as well. You lie naked now between the two blonde coeds.
"Okay, now, Ellen, do what I told you!" Cathy instructs as she gets to her feet by your left foot and undoes the tie to the canopy bed's curtains.
You turn to see what Cathy might be talking about when you feel Ellen lift the hand she had been holding and wrap your wrist in the fabric of the curtain tie by where she now stands.
Your mouth opens and closes when you realize what is being done, but no sound comes out. It is then that you see the hallway door open as well. |