Robert Vickers - Chained cheerleader

"No, I didn't," Bradford said hastily. "And you just go along with him, if you don't, you can just walk right on out of the stadium. You're no virgin. And he deserves it."

"It, Mr. Bradford? Exactly what is this 'it' you're talking about?" She threw down her pom poms and stood her hands on her flaring hips. With her legs spread just a little, she was perfectly silhouetted against the bright lights of the stadium. The player licked his lips and began fumbling at the front of his pants. The girl stood as if she were rooted to the spot. She couldn't believe that he actually expected her to fuck in plain view of everyone in the stadium. Yet, from the way he fumbled around getting his cup out of the way so that his prick would swing free told her the entire story. He did expect her to fuck. Then! There! What horrified Debbie most was the knowledge that Bradford had promised her to this man if he did well. He kicked the field goal and she was going to be his. It was that simple.

She was no longer a woman, a living, breathing woman. She had turned into a piece of property to be used as Bradford decided. He could award her to any of the team members whenever he wanted. She had become no more than chattel property a slave. But she wasn't going to protest. She was too stricken to even speak.

"See, Debbie, that guy is hung. He'll give you one hell of a fine fuck. And I know what that tight little pussy of yours is like," Bradford said, more for the player's benefit than anything else. He had never fucked her cunt. He had only raped her up the ass.

"Get her over here, Mr. Bradford. Unless you want me to ball her in plain view of that Goddamn camera crew."

The player sat on the end of the bench. He was surrounded by a half dozen other players, all intent on watching the progress of the game. Debbie stood rigid and frightened, her eyes fastened firmly to the man's cock. It jutted up and out of his padded pants, red and ugly and impossibly long. She licked her lips and shook her head, a cascade of bright blonde hair circling her shoulders. She hoped this would clear her head. This had to be a dream, a nightmare!

"Dammit, get over there. Sit on his lap and let him fuck you. He did good and now he should be rewarded. You're supposed to get the team worked up to the point where they win. So give him what's his!"

Bradford's voice pushed the girl over the edge. It shocked her back into awareness. She started to back off. She shook her head and blurted out, "God, no! Not this! Not in public! There are fifty thousand people watching! This is sick!"

Bradford slapped her. She felt the sharp sting of his fingers against her check. Tears flowed from the corners of her eyes. Concentrating on the pain helped her to fight off the numbness that fell over her like a soft, cottony blanket.

"No!"

He slapped her again. And this time, he moved up behind her to prevent her from turning and running toward the locker room. All the while the man moved into position behind her, Debbie found herself unable to look away from the jutting hard-on sprouting from the player's crotch. His bell shaped glans throbbed with virile lust. The entire cock pulsed with excited blood, blood pumping harder and harder into his already steely erection. Under ordinary circumstances, Debbie might have been tempted maybe. But not like this. Not in public and definitely not at the order of the general manager. He didn't own her. He had raped her anally and she had allowed that because of the possible exposure she might get. Modeling jobs. Television series, even starring in movies. All those could be hers and she knew it. But to put up with Bradford and this humiliation! It wasn't worth all the fame and fortune in the world! But she had hesitated too long. He held her firmly in place, she could no longer run. His fingers ran under the thin string of her g-string, tugging at it, pulling it down. She felt the cool air gusting across the playing field seek put the humid crease between her legs. She hadn't realized when she was getting hot and horny just thinking, about fucking in public.

"No, I refuse," she said, straining in the circle of the man's arms.

The harder she fought, the more she realized she couldn't escape. These men would be able to do anything they wanted to her. She was helpless! Bradford pushed her closer to the man seated on the end of the bench. Others on the team turned when she began to protest. A couple of them smiled at her predicament. Debbie went cold all over. She realized that this wasn't the first, time this had happened. It was simply that she was the one chosen as the carrot. To be given to the faithful mule for long and useful service. These men used sex as a reward like other businesses used money bonuses.

"Get down on your knees and suck his prick for a while. I think he would like that."

Bradford towered over her she couldn't possibly elude him. And the worst part of the entire degrading scene was the way she felt. She was turned on!

The girl hated herself more and more for that. She tried to tell herself that he was forcing her to do this. He would punish her severely if she didn't do exactly as he ordered. His command was her only concern. She wasn't responsible for anything that happened. Yet she was. She could run. She could scream for help. She could attract all sorts of attention. After all, fifty thousand fans were in the stadium. One of those fans would surely come to her aid if she cried rape loud enough.

But Debbie couldn't do it. She rationalized. She convinced herself that she had no alternative. She didn't want to hurt the team's image. This could destroy everything a lot of devoted men had worked for all season long. To let one evil manager's whim wreck all that was unthinkable. She felt some obligation to the team.

She sucked. The throbbing prick shot up between her ruby lips as his hips came up and off the bench. He gasped as her soft lips clamped firmly on the very tip of his cock. She licked around the hooded edge of his glans and then traced out each and every contour. The man could hardly keep his seat on the bench.

She felt a surge of power over him. They had forced her to do this but who was really in charge? She was! She was the one making him moan in stark lust for her body. She called all the shots. And if she could make him get his rocks off fast, she would show Bradford just what a hot chick she really was. He couldn't possibly say anything to her if his prize stud got off fast. She sucked harder. Her tongue danced all over the man's cock, lightly touching the quivering sides of the shaft and moving downward until she came to the hairy sac containing his balls. Her tongue batted the trapped balls inside the scrotum until the man was crying out almost as loud as the cheerleaders still going through their routine.

The girl felt another surge of carnal power. The g-string rubbed up against her snatch and dipped into the crack of her ass. The nearness, the softness, the motion of cloth against naked, aroused flesh, made her hornier than hell.

This added to her sucking. She wanted to give him the best head she could. The blonde cheerleader was going to show them that she could do all they wanted and make them all feel small. She'd show them!

And then Bradford moved in closer. She felt him grab her hands and pull them behind her back. She abandoned her post at the man's cock and tried to turn to face Bradford. The general manager had her hands firmly secured with a short length of string. The thin thread cut into her wrists and threatened to cut off all the circulation.

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded. "I… I'll suck him off, but don't do anything else to me!"

Her frightened eyes flashed across the sea of strange faces just feet away from where they crouched. All those people watching her humiliation! She tried to move but Bradford shoved her roughly. She stumbled and fell into the man's lap. A hard, round pillar of cock pressed firmly between her thighs and nudged into the thin fabric of her g-string.