Chapter One-1
2016 Words
Chapter One
They caught Robin m**********g behind the bleachers.
As one of the first three males ever admitted to the highly exclusive Valentine Academy, all-female for over one hundred years, Robin thought he’d discovered the scam of the century. Now, it looked like he was the victim. Instead of being king c**k of the walk, he was suffering the torments of Tantalus. A campus of all-American cockteasers, flush with Daddy’s money and an unshakeable faith in their own sexuality, at turns demure and outrageous, had been turning him inside out ever since he’d arrived. He wore a perpetual hard-on with few opportunities to do anything to relieve the pressure. With only a few males around, he was closeted in a girl’s dorm. Enemy territory.
Watching the cheerleader practice was too much for any normal male. Twelve young nymphets with that too-wholesome girl-next-door sexuality, fresh wriggling bodies and budding breasts covered by tight letter sweaters, long silky legs under scandalously short skirts, showing off their moves with knowing glances, driving him to a hard-on before he had a chance. He had to do something. He had to. Cautiously, he peered around, then sneaked underneath the bleachers, discovering that he could peer out between the seats at their hip-swinging dance. He reached down to shift his tumescent organ, and the touch was so unbelievably pleasant he had to unzip his pants, slide them down over his hips, pull his p***s out of his too-tight shorts, pull it out, just for a minute, then stroked it faster and faster, abusing it toward a quick, explosive release, gazing with tongue lolling out, panting, getting close, oh god...
“Well, what have we here?”
On the culminating brink of his needed explosion, his straining erection dripping pre-come under the steady strokes of his hand, he swiveled in shock to see three gorgeous, deadly cheerleaders giving him a disapproving once-over. His other hand flew to cover up his flopping, turgid organ as his pants slipped humiliatingly to puddle around his knees. A blush started at his forehead and burned its shaming way down his exposed torso, making him stammer lamely.
“I...I had an itch...I...” His stuttering explanation drew gales of laughter.
“Sure, you had an itch. We saw you scratching it,” snickered one cheerleader, an astoundingly cute redhead with a huge chest and a tiny waist, her laughing green eyes mocking him.
His eyes darted from side to side. He was desperate to escape, to run away and hide forever. He lunged past the co-eds, searching for an opening.
“Not so fast, little boy,” the raven-haired cheerleader jeered, grabbing him. The other two piled in, grasping his arms, holding him prisoner. Futilely, he struggled, trying to get away, but they were too strong for him.
The girls pushed him hard; he stumbled, tripped by his hobbling trousers. They stood dominatingly over him, wickedly stern in their scrutiny. “Better do exactly what we say, little boy, or we’ll have you expelled.”
Scared, humiliated, despairing, he nodded, sniffling. “O-okay. I’m sorry. Please don’t tell on me.”
“We’ll do exactly what we choose,” the raven-haired cheerleader said firmly. “Your only chance is to follow our orders.”
Meekly, Robin nodded.
His captors each wore the distinctive uniform of the Valentine Academy pom-pom squad. Tight, white short-sleeve sweaters with a deep red “V” stretching over the cleavage. Tiny pleated skirt, also in white, with a red trim and white reversed-out hearts along the hemline. The skirts flared out, exposing a good four inches of luscious girl-girl thigh. Bobbie sox and saddle oxfords completed the outfit. Beneath the fetishistic pleated miniskirts, Robin knew, were red cotton panties that flashed with every jump or split.
The dominating raven-haired vixen, Loni, had dark almond eyes and jet black eyebrows. Her shoulder-length tresses were windblown; one strand hung over her face. Her mouth was slightly open, her lips full and cruel. Her body was lean, with cupcake t**s and long, sensual legs.
Kerri’s golden mane flowed in soft waves to the small of her back. She had a thin, sensual face with startling pale blue eyes that looked down at him with condescension. Her taut athletic legs were her best feature, but her breasts were large and full. The third cheerleader was Tiffany, a petite hipsy-tailsy redhead, an action-packed bundle of dynamite. More cute than beautiful, she had a sly smile packed with lust. As the helpless victim sat on the chilly concrete, vainly concealing his privates, his three sexy captors conferred in whispers, glancing at him from time to time with an amused sparkle in their eyes.
“All right,” Loni declared, “we won’t turn you in. But we will have to punish you for this indiscretion. Understand?”
“Y-yes,” he whispered, looking at his feet in painful embarrassment.
“That’s ‘yes, ma’am,’” Kerri added.
“Y-yes, ma’am,” he whispered.
“Okay, stand up.” When he complied, Loni continued, “Now, take off your clothes. We want to see what you’ve got.”
He knew he had no choice. With trembling, numb fingers, he unbuttoned his shirt, slid off his shoes and pushed his pants off. He stood with his hands barely covering his erect, jutting pole. The three pom-pom girls stared with kittenish glee.
“Hands behind your back. Now!” Loni barked.
They circled him slowly, checking him out like a side of beef. “Put your hands over your head,” Loni ordered. He trembled as he submitted to their teasing commands.. Then they explored his nude form, caressing his ticklish sides, his tiny erect n*****s, his dangling testicles. He squirmed under the tantalizing attention until a firm spank on his bare butt commanded him to be still.
His eyes fastened on the saddle oxford shoes of the sadistic cheerleader who orchestrated his public torment. The curving line of her ankle drew his eyes up the shapely calf and to the warm thighs vanishing under her pleated miniskirt, then to the narrow waist above rounded hips, and on to the letter sweater straining to contain her round, soft bosom, then to her face, angelic yet cold.
“Well, little boy, how are you feeling?” With mock sympathy, Loni stood in front of him as her companions snickered at his discomfiture. She tickled her soft hands over his naked torso, touching his n*****s, sending waves of shameful pleasure coursing through him. “Ooh, is that better? Yes, it is. Your little p***s likes it.” His shame and vulnerability were evident. She petted his n*****s slowly, rubbing the rigid nubs in a circle. His half-mast erection pulsed to firmness almost instantly and he let out an agonized moan of frustration. She chuckled. “Yes. Yes. Come on, little toy. That’s right.”
She grabbed his c**k in one hand. He could feel her heat inflaming him. His hands held rigidly above his head, he could only whimper as she m*********d him with one hand and toyed with his maddeningly sensitive n*****s with the other. “Oh, god...” he pleaded, “oh god...oh god...please...yes...oh...yes...oh...”
“Horny little bastard, aren’t you?” she asked. He groaned with mortified desire, but did not reply. She dug her red painted talons into his shaft, making him wince, and asked again, “Horny little bastard, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes...yes...I’m a horny little bastard,” he moaned in abject agreement.
“How long has it been since you’ve shot off?” she asked, continuing her voluptuous torment.
“Days...I don’t know...aah!”
“Did you beat your meat last time you came or did a girl get you off?”
“I-I did it myself.”
“Oh?” She tantalized him devilishly with her innocent questioning and her inflaming hands on his n*****s and c**k. He was quickly climbing the slippery slope of sensual delight to an explosive orgasm. “You did yourself. You took your d**k in your hand and rubbed it like I’m doing.”
He nodded, red-faced and gasping for breath. He was rocking back and forth on his knees, dangerously close to falling. His mind was reeling.
“And you kept it up until all that nasty white cream spurted out of it, didn’t you.”
“Y-yes.”
“Who were you thinking about?”
“The g-girls...”
“Which girls?”
“A-all the girls...all the co-eds...the c-cheerleaders...”
“You were thinking about cheerleaders? Were you thinking about us?”
“Y-yes.” The other vixens, watching with undisguised and devilish delight, giggled knowingly.
“Careful. Careful. If you get any of that nasty white stuff on me, you’re going to regret it big time.” She dug her sharp crimson talons into his exposed flesh until he winced with the sudden pain, then returned to her casual stroking.
He bit his lower lip to keep from going over the edge. Mercilessly, she continued her stimulation and her questions.
“Did you ever make it with a cheerleader?”
“N-no.”
“Did you ever make it with anyone at Valentine Academy?”
“N-no.”
“Did you ever shoot that d**k off inside a girl’s p***y?”
He blushed beet red. They now knew his secret shame. “N-no.”
“You’re a virgin?” she said, with roguish incredulity.
His hangdog expression was confirmation. The news made the three uniformed witches uncontrollably. “We’ve got a virgin pervert, girls!” she announced.
The humiliating comments echoed in his s*x-tormented brain while the cold-hearted minx continued her slow, devastating tease. Clear seminal fluid began to leak from the purple cap of his p***s.
Then she stood up, stopping the stimulation suddenly, leaving him stirred once again to the crumbling edge of relief, desperate for fulfillment denied. He whined with misery and desperation. She ignored him.
“What do you think, girls?”
“Well, if he’s a virgin, he sure can’t handle what I had in mind,” Tiffany, the big-titted redhead chortled wickedly.
Kerri giggled in response. “Yeah. He’d probably shoot off before we were even half-started. Let’s make him jerk off for us.”
Blushing, unbelieving, Robin hardly heard the order. “Yeah, Robin, jerk off for us. That’s what you wanted to do anyway, wasn’t it? Jerk it off.” The three cheerleaders purred and cooed in unison. “Jerk off. Jerk off. Jerk off.”
They chanted rhythmically as he hesitantly took his prick in his hand. After Loni’s tantalizing cocktease, the swollen and purple-helmeted organ pulsed in his own hand. He gaped at the three sly temptresses, wanting them, needing them. “Go ahead. Do it. You know you want to. Jerk off for us. Do it now. Jerk it. Jerk it.”
Obediently, he tugged at his humiliated erection, displayed for the amused titillation of his feminine captors, the veined skin sliding up and swallowing the cap, then skinning it again. His knees were weak; he felt faint, unable to stand. “Whip that c**k. Make it spurt. Yeah.”
Toying with his enraged desire, Tiffany flipped up her skirt, showing off her panties. Loni blew him kisses. Kerri smiled and licked her lips with outrageously exaggerated sexuality. He worked his shaft harder and harder in his m**********g fist. “Yeah. That’s the way. Spank your hamster. Beat your meat. Flog your monkey.” They laughed derisively at him as he grunted in growing passion.
He was close...nearly there... “Stop. Right this second. Now!”
He groaned with frustration as Loni forced him to stop right before the culminating moment. When he calmed down for a second, she smiled with cruel glee. “Now start again. Beat your meat some more for us.”
Sweat beaded on his forehead. He started pushing his twitching, dripping tool back up the slippery Sisiphyean slope to the orgasm his tormentors might deny him yet again. He looked from one diabolical cheerleader to another. He was sweating. He speeded up as they chanted, “Jerk it off. Jerk it off. Jerk it off.” Again he approached the moment of culmination. His bloated, twitching tool was purple with its terrible craving. “Ah. Ah. Ah.” His breath came in pants. He was ready, so ready...
“Stop it. Stop it right now,” Kerri ordered sternly. The other two giggled. “Hands behind your neck. Now.” They circled him like jungle cats surrounding their prey, their wicked, teasing eyes devouring his degradation. They petted and tickled at him, wickedly avoiding his twitching organ. His hips bucked uncontrollably; his legs trembled with weakness. “Please...please,” he whimpered in the grip of helpless lust, craving his denied climax.
“He wants to jerk off for us. He’s just a little jerk-off boy, isn’t he? Aren’t you?” Tiffany scorned. He could only nod, begging, as she made fun of his desperation.
Finally, Kerri smirked, “Okay. You can start again. Jerk off for us.”
The other girls chanted, “Jerk off. Jerk off. Jerk off.” As he edged closer and closer to his long-denied explosion, he started to worry. Would they let him finish this time, or stop him again? Their expressions gave him no clue. His trembling knees got weaker and weaker; his body strained with urgent rut.
“Oh...oh...please...oh! Now! Yes!” He moaned with helpless lust. The three cheerleaders continued to chant their mantra. Finally, he began to spurt, his seed jetting out a full six inches, spattering on the cold, dirty floor. His legs could no longer support him and he collapsed to his knees, gasping with the draining intensity of his rutting orgasm. His heart pounded.
He recovered, only to see Tiffany finish gathering up his clothes. “Bye-bye,” Loni snickered. “You’d better be on your toes when you sneak back to your dorm room. Wouldn’t want some wicked girls to catch you stark naked on this campus. You never know what could happen, do you?”
- Writer
