by Bert Hart
Titus can’t strip a girl who’s crying. He holds her awkwardly and whispers in her ear that he’ll never hurt her.
After a bit she relaxes and lightly kisses his cheek. She raises her arms. “You can do it.”
Titus steps back, looks at her unhappy face. He still can’t undress her.
He thinks, 'If I force her to make love to me when she obviously doesn’t want to, it doesn’t matter what she agreed. I’m a piece of shit. But if I just walk away, when I could have had sex, I’ll never forgive myself.' He glances over at the padded examination table. He imagines her lying there face up, naked. He wants her bad. The clock shows quarter to eight. He tries to think of something to say, anything.
“When you signed the agreement, what did you think would happen today?”
“I didn’t really think it through. I knew I couldn’t allow myself to be expelled. I had just admitted I did it, you can imagine how my parents were looking at me. As soon as I made my choice, my father nodded, so I thought I’d done right.” She starts crying again, but her arms are still raised. She clasps her hands behind her neck and pushes her chest forward. He can’t stand it any longer. He puts his hands on her breasts. She gasps but doesn’t step back.
She continues, “When Treffie told me he didn’t know the name of the contest winner, it made it harder to figure. I know some boys are shy like me. I hoped I’d get one who’d be too embarrassed to ask for much. I didn’t think any boy intelligent enough to write a winning essay would be like, mean. In a general way I knew I’d have to do, like, sex stuff, show my …go topless, or even worse. But I never imagined I’d have to, um, like actually, lie back and let you, like, do it. I still can’t believe it. What about my civil liberties?”
“In the eyes of the law, I think you gave them up when you voluntarily signed the agreement. But it’s not just what’s going to happen in this room. Didn’t you think about being on display before the whole school? Don’t you remember what happened last year when those two boys trashed Coach Meyer’s car?”
“Yes, but it’s a big school, maybe a couple of times I saw their bare butts down the hall, but I never was one of those girls who gathered around. I never saw their things dangling…”
“Or standing.” He smiles.
“Yes, someone told me that the girl who was their Humiliator was pretty rough on them. Or did that just make them happy?”
“I don’t think any boy wants to be forced to cum in front of a bunch of girls, especially three or four times in a day. That’s painful.”
“So, when we leave here, what will I be allowed to wear? Oh!” His hands are underneath her sweater and blouse now, fumbling with her bra.
“Nothing. But I get to tell boys what they can and can’t do, that’s one of the things Treffie and I talked about last night. I won’t let you get hurt, but I control the level of humiliation. Boys are going to want to look, you’ve got to allow that, but as for touching, groping----that’s up to me.”
“Suppose I cooperate completely here. Let you do whatever you want, even help you, do what you say. Could I wear panties the rest of the day? Maybe just have to lower them sometimes, sure, flash the boys, but then pull them right back up?”
“No. Being naked is not negotiable. Anyway, you already agreed I had the right to do anything I wanted. There are certain things I’m going to do to you, I’m sure you want them done in private, but I’m afraid we’re running out of time You need to stop crying.”
Corrine nods and gives him a half smile, a resigned invitation. He removes her sweater gently, as if undressing a child. She lowers her arms. His fingers tremble slightly on the buttons of her peach blouse. He moves to her back and slides it over her shoulders. When it is halfway down, pinning her arms to her sides, he pauses to unhook her bra. She cries out softly and flushes, doubly embarrassed. Soon he will see them on display. And he will see how little she has to display.
In a moment her blouse joins her sweater, tossed carelessly on a chair. He moves to her front and looks into her eyes as he slides her small bra off her arms and body. Then he looks down.
“They’ve been growing,” she says, defensively.
“Yes, I see…I can see stretch marks.” He eyes are only inches away. “And they will be growing more.” It’s a kind thing for him to say. They both know she’s never going to be big on top. He smiles. “Make them jiggle.”
Tension makes her giggle. She hops from one foot to the other, twists her torso back and forth, raises and lowers her arms. Finally she leans forward and sways like an elephant. He cups them softly in his hands and straightens her up.
“Look in my eyes.”
He brushes his palms lightly against her nipples. They rise to meet him. He is still smiling. She can’t help but smile back, but her eyes show fear. When he begins to stroke her hardening nipples with his thumbs, her eyes widen. She swallows convulsively.
He bends forward, breaking eye contact. His tongue caresses her right nipple. His mouth sucks it inside. His teeth brush it accidentally. He’s too eager, too rough. She needs to distract him.
“Be an equal opportunity nipple sucker, but go easier on the other one.”
He laughs, switches sides, gently tongues her. When he judges both nipples to be as wet and as hard as they’ll ever be, he steps back. He grasps her chin with his left hand, looking into her eyes. His right hand goes around her waist. She tenses, waiting helplessly. His left hand leaves her chin for her bare belly and slides slowly and inexorably downward. It sneaks underneath the waistband of her tights, beneath the top of her panties, across her lightly dusted mound, and comes gently to rest against her slit.
“Open wide.” She spreads her legs. “Wider.” She obeys.
A single finger splits her lips and probes downward. She’s touched herself there before, many times. This is better. He presses on her hood, and instantly her clitoris begins to fatten. His finger continues downward between her inner labia, brushes across the bump of her pee hole, and comes to rest at her entrance.
“ I want to see you naked. Right now.” His voice is tight. He starts unbuttoning his shirt with his free hand.
Corrine freezes. He’s going to take off all his clothes. He’ll stick his thing inside her.
“I’m not anywhere ready.”
“That’s not what my finger thinks.”
“Titus, a girl gets wet sometimes when she knows she’s going to have sex, even if it’s rape, it’s a protective thing so she doesn’t get torn. Or if she gets wet when she’s touched, her body maybe says she’s kind of ready, but I’m not, not ready in my head, I’m frightened you’re going to hurt me. I, I’ll pull my stuff down, you can see everything I’ve got, I’ll even pose, but I don’t want you to get all naked yet.”
“OK, I’ll leave my briefs on for now. I want to feel your body against mine when I kiss you. But you have to be completely nude.”
She watches him as he takes off his shirt and undershirt. He looks good.
He puts his hands on his belt and flips a finger at her lower half. She wonders exactly how she’s going to do it. She could slide both items down at once, but then she’ll be exposed when she raises her legs to pull her tights and panties off her feet. Better to do the tights first and then the panties. But then he might see the outline of her outer lips through her panties, or see some wisps of hair protruding from the gusset. Sometimes being half naked is worse than the real thing. She takes a deep breath and pushes everything down at once.
Titus has never seen a pussy. With Corrine standing abashedly before him with her legs tightly together, he’s amazed at how little is showing. There’s a nice plump mound, lightly dusted with brown moss, and underneath just the very top of a tightly closed slit, and nothing more. As he drops his pants, he stares at her. She sits and bends her legs to remove the last of her clothing. He sees a flash of pink.
Corrine can’t help but look at his tighty whities. There is definitely a bulge. She’s still not ready, but she’s curious. She fights down the urge to go to him, pull forward on his waistband, boldly push a hand inside.
He embraces her and places his lips against hers. She stands stiffly at first, not kissing back, trying to keep her bare lower half away from him. It’s not easy to keep this up, and she starts to melt. As the kiss continues, he drops his hands from her back to her butt, drawing her into him. He begins to caress her bare behind. One finger intimately probes the crack between her cheeks. He positions her so his hardness presses directly between her legs and rubs against her.
Suddenly he shifts and places his right leg between hers. His hands on her butt begin to lift her up and down, forcing her pussy to hump against his warm leg. She’s never heard of this before. At first the motion is nearly imperceptible, and she tries to restrain herself, but he is too strong, and as his leg gets wetter and wetter, the sawing motion becomes easier. She stops fighting him and begins to assist. After a bit he releases the pressure on her butt, but she continues to rub against him on her own. She’s breathing harshly when he breaks off the kiss and steps back, smiling knowingly.
“Not yet. I need you up on the table.” She blushes to think she just masturbated against his leg and almost came. She hops up on the table and sits upright on the very end. There are no stirrups.
“Have you ever had a pelvic exam?”
Oh, my. She blushes even more. Now he wants to play doctor.
“Yes, once. The school requires a physical for sports, and he said I had to have that done, too. So he just basically put on gloves and looked at my private parts and like, fingered me a little. But he didn’t use a speculum, he said that wasn’t necessary if I wasn’t having intercourse or intending to.”
“I don’t know what that word means.”
She starts laughing. “Intercourse? That’s when a daddy puts his thing into a mommy to make a baby.” That she is joking makes him happy. “Or do you mean speculum? That’s an instrument with flat blades a doctor inserts into a woman’s vagina. The blades press against the wall and open her up so the doctor can see the cervix and take a pap smear.”
Titus wonders if the cabinet contains one, and if he would recognize it. It would be kind of fun to look inside, but kind of gross, too. He really wouldn’t know how to use it, might hurt her. Scratch that.
“Please Titus, give me a little time. This is so embarrassing!”
“OK, I need to cool down a bit. I’m going to check out that cabinet. You remember Treffie said there might be stuff inside that I could use.”
“No, please don’t. I’ll cooperate if you just give me a minute. I’ll do anything. What do you want next? I’ll lie down and open my legs wide. You can see it all. I’ll let you touch me there even. But I just don’t want any, like, instruments or handcuffs or stuff. You don’t have force me, I’ll be good.”
But Titus knows if he doesn’t take a break, he’s going to cream himself. He spends time in front of the open cabinet. He sees a pair of handcuffs and some other scary looking devices. There’s a disposable razor with a tube of shaving cream, a leather collar with leash, a digital camera and printer. He brings the camera back to the table. He bends and shoots from a low angle, so that her bare breasts and the black letters across her forehead are both visible.
“Lie on your back, raise and spread your legs good and wide.” This must be the classic position, he thinks. He puts down the camera. He begins to fondle and stroke the inner surfaces of her outer lips. He moves down and gently parts her inner labia. He moves up to her hood.
“I don’t see your clitoris.”
“Pull up and back on the hood, but be careful.”
A tiny pink object comes into view. He touches it with his forefinger, begins to rub.
“No, that hurts, you can’t do it like that, it’s too sensitive. Here, let go, I’ll show you what I do.”
He removes his hands and the hood slides back into place. With her right hand, she presses down and begins to caress herself. As she swirls her hand counterclockwise, she can feel her clitoris and labia swelling. She starts rhythmically bucking her hips against her hand, moaning. Normally it takes longer, but she’s already been primed against his leg. Soon she’s close, so close, it feels so good, oh, my, a boy is watching her, yes, but she just can’t stop, she’s going to cum, he’s going to see her Jill off, going to tell all the other boys just how she does it. Maybe he’s taking photos even. She brakes to a shameful halt. He looks at her knowingly. She can’t pretend any more she’s not ready. She starts up again, frantically rubbing, then suddenly raises up, freezes, cries out, and comes hard. He lets her rest until her panting stops.
“I want to see more.” Now he fiddles about a little lower, pressing this way and that until he sees the tiny hole she pees out of. And now lower still, to where she’s spread wide, her entrance gaping open. His fingers expose a circular pink hole. It is completely covered by a web of thin tissue, which is intact but for a small opening dead center.
“I’m going to take pictures of your hymen. Put your hands down where mine are and hold yourself open just like I’m doing now.”
“What, what are you going to do with them?” She imagines every boy in school owning a set of shots of her open pussy, boys in their homes at night staring at her pictures while spurting their stuff, boys gathering in the halls at school, licking their lips, looking at her, imagining her naked. Maybe there’d be a whole website called “Corrine’s Pussy.”
“Naturally, I’ll want to show them around, especially to boys who might not get a chance to see you in the flesh today. There’s a printer in the cabinet I can attach the camera to, but I’ll only make one copy of each. I’ll keep them safe and well, for…my own use, you understand, so I can remember today.”
Not just remember, she thinks. It’s all too much for her. Suddenly it’s as if her body isn’t hers any more. Mechanically, she does whatever he asks as he snaps away. Only one more indignity ---the big one---and she’ll be done. She wonders how much it will hurt when he breaks through. At least she is wet. When he puts down the camera, she raises her butt up slightly, watching him as he quickly steps out of his briefs.
She’s never seen an erect penis, even in pictures. She doesn’t know how long they mostly are, but it seems more than enough to do the job. She’s pretty sure he’s circumcised. It’s really nice looking, not gross like she always imagined. Once past the pain, when he gets it in nice and tight, it might even feel pretty good. She lies flat on her back, and once again spreads and raises her legs. Nothing happens. She looks up at him. His face is very red.
“I just can’t. I know you really don’t want to do it, maybe later today, I don’t know, I’m all confused, I don’t want to hurt you and I know it will, but oh, God, I’ve got to get some relief!”
Corrine climbs silently off the table, smiles, kneels. Late last night, thinking about today, she thought she might have to do this. Now it doesn’t seem so bad, considering the alternative.
“You’ll have to tell me what to do.”
“Just grasp it by the base, put it inside and suck.”
She’s about to find out how fast boys his age can be. She assists him with her hand as he thrusts. Suddenly he convulses and spurts into the back of her throat. She fights down the urge to choke.
“You don’t have to swallow.”
A moment later he is done and pulls out. She goes to the stainless steel basin and spits, retches, but nothing comes up from her stomach. It’s disrespectful, but she can’t help it.
He’s looking at her bare butt as she bends over the basin. He can see her lips poking out between her legs. He’s deflating now, a few thousand latecomers dribbling down his leg. He snaps a couple more pictures.
He has just finished printing the entire set out when there is a knock on the door. “It’s Mr. Trefthen.”
“One moment.” Titus struggles into his clothes. Corrine watches him wistfully. She stands as far away from the door as possible, pressed against the wall, her right arm across her breasts, left hand covering her pussy.
Treffie glances at her as he enters, obviously amused by her shyness. “That’s a nice look across her forehead.” he says to Titus, who immediately looks away. Something isn’t quite right. Treffie goes to the table and runs his hand up and down. There is plenty of moisture, but no blood. “No sex yet?”
“Oral.” Titus shrugs as he says this and hands Treffie the picture of her hymen. “I didn’t want to hurt her, you can see her first time is going to be painful.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve heard about this, most girls just have a bit of tissue at the bottom, or quite often no hymen at all. Well, Titus, don’t you think she needs to hop right back up on the table so I can take a look?”
Titus looks at Corrine, who is blushing madly and shaking her head no. Treffie is as old as her father.
“Yes, but you said I set the rules, so I say you can’t touch her.” He gestures at her. She knows she has to obey. She gets up, lies down, spreads and raises her legs. When Treffie approaches, she frames her vagina with her hands and pulls herself fully open. He takes a long careful look. Her eyes are closed in shame, so only Titus notices the beginning of a bulge in Treffie’s pants.
Treffie steps back, looking at her chest. In this position, her breasts have nearly disappeared. “Not much on top, about what I expected. Why don’t you just sit up now, show yourself off to a little better advantage?”
She keeps her eyes cast downward as he looks at her tits. He goes over to her pile of discarded clothing. Her panties are on top. He picks them up and ostentatiously brings them to his nose. She knows they are still damp. He does the same to her tights, burying his nose in the crotch. He picks up her bra and reads the label.
“I think I just might be able to add a little more information for the boys.” Treffie pulls a marking pen out from his pocket and approaches her. He carefully writes “28A” above each breast. “Ha, now they won’t have to take measurements.”
Titus has had enough. “Sir, we are ready to go now.”
“Ok, you just need to collar her, then.”
“I’m quite sure that won’t be necessary.” Titus says firmly. But Treffie insists. He says collaring has always been done, and in fact Titus now remembers that it was done to the two boys. He gets it out and looks at her sympathetically as he fits it about her neck. He leaves a little slack so she’ll have no trouble breathing. He clips the leash onto to collar ring and gives a tiny tug. She glares at him. This makes him angry. He tugs harder and as she stumbles towards him, he uses his other hand to firmly grasp a breast. There’s no doubt he’s in charge. Treffie smiles.
“I’ll go now to the office and make an announcement on the PA. Where will you take her first?”
“To the boy’s bathroom next to the locker room, and from there to the showers.”
“Excellent. I’ll just take her clothes with me to my office, you can bring her there at the end of the day.”
Titus goes to the cabinet and pockets the tube of shaving cream and the razor. He takes hold of the leash and leads her out the door.
End of part 2