Robert Vickers - Chained cheerleader

The slithery feel of his cock-hard tongue fucking her pussy sent shivers of delight racing up her spine. Lightning bolts jolted through her body as she came. The man began sucking on her pussy. That, coupled with his hard teeth gnawing on the tender lips, brought her off again.

And then he was gone. Only the pleasant after glow of orgasm remained in her body. Debbie crouched and bent forward, lost her balance and tumbled to the floor. She had forgotten that her hands were still chained behind her back.

As she lay there, the glow vanishing from her cunt, she felt come drying on her hands. Somehow, all this wasn't quite as exciting as it had been. As she thought about it, everything turned sordid, depraved, totally ugly. She had been forced to do these lewd and vile acts. The girl was no longer master of her own destiny.

Bradford controlled her and he wasn't about to let her go. This had been a pleasant interlude, but she feared that more pain was coming her way.

She was right.

"Let's let the other cheerleaders in," said Bradford. "We can take her out with us through the equipment room." Debbie felt strong arms lifting her off the cement floor. She seemed to float, weightless. Never had she felt such power as the football player lifting her showed. He didn't even seem to notice her weight. She struggled a little and found herself as firmly trapped by him as if she had been embedded in a solid block of concrete.

Bradford took out a ring of keys and opened the chain-link door that she couldn't get through earlier. She cursed under her breath. If only she'd had those keys. The blonde girl's pussy still stung a little from the effect of the broom handle fucking, but not as much as her asshole. After all, she had been eaten out. That type of tonguing would soothe all but the worst of hurts.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded. She grunted as the player tossed her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

"Don't ask questions, cunt," came Bradford's cold reply. They made their way through the interior of the stadium. By the time they emerged into the cold night, the lights were going out. The stadium was again deserted, waiting like a malignant beast for another weekend to come so that it could fill its maw with fifty thousand people.

"Out onto the field, boss man?" asked the player. Debbie grunted every time he bounced up and down. He hadn't taken off his cleats and this gave him an odd rolling gait. With her belly pressed into his massive shoulder pads, she was getting the worst of the deal.

"Yeah. Tie her to the tackling dummy. Then you can get the rest of the team. The ones that don't have anything better to do, at any rate."

"Right, boss."

The player threw Debbie down and turned to race into the cloaking room of the now empty stadium. She lay on the cold ground, staring up at the diamond hard points of the stars overhead. She didn't know if they were mocking her or not. She thought they must be.

Bradford lifted her and placed her against one of the tackling dummies. She strained to get away from him. The chains on her wrists prevented her from effectively fighting the man off.

"Don't give me any of that shit," he ordered. "This is going to be the team's reward for winning."

"You mean I'm going to be the reward!" She found her breath coming in short, hard gasps. Her excitement and fear mingled and mixed until she couldn't tell one from the other. "Why are you doing this to me? You haven't ever done this to any of the other girls. I would have heard about it if you had. Why me?"

"You remind me of my first wife. Oh, so beautiful and prim and proper and the biggest cock teaser in the world. You come on strong and get a guy hard, then shut him down. Not now, cock-teaser, not now. This time, I'm going to show you what you're missing."

She tried to run again. He simply stuck out his foot and tripped her. She fell to her knees, trying to keep her face out of the dirt. What the man did next startled and shocked the blonde teenager. He looped a length of chain around her neck and fastened it securely to the tackling, dummy.

"Just like a dog, bitch. That's what you are a bitch in heat. Well, the team's gonna put that fire out. You're gonna get more cock than you ever dreamed of before we're finished with you."

A flood of futility came over her, drowning her in self-pity. She was chained like a dog. She couldn't move without the chain stopping her, choking her, humiliating her even more than she had been in the past.

"I hate you!" she screamed. "I hope you burn in hell! Ill see you dead!"

"Sure you will," he taunted. "Who is it that has the key to the lock to this?" He reached down and jangled the chain around her neck. "I have it! And you're going to do as you're told."

"The bitch has a tongue. Perhaps I should cut it out."

Debbie recoiled in horror as the dim light filtering into the stadium caught and reflected off the opening blade of a wicked penknife. The man advanced on her. She tried to get away from him but the end of the chain stopped her. Almost gagging from the cruel links around her neck, she flinched away from the cold steel blade of the knife.

He pressed it into her belly, then slowly drew it up to a spot between her tits. He pressed hard enough to depress her skin but not hard enough to cut into her flesh. The feel of the steel against her skin threatened to cause the girl to pass out in fright.

"Wh-what are you going to do to me?"

"I should cut one of these off." He placed the very tip of the tiny knife under her left tit. Slowly, with agonizing care, he traced along the huge mound of tit flesh, and then worked the point all the way to the crest. There, he ran the edge of the blade repeatedly over her now hard nipple. The coldness of the blade had made her nipple spring erect.

"Don't do this to me, please!" she pleaded. "I I'll do anything you want!"

"Of course, you will. As long as you're chained, you are under my command. You have no choice but to obey."

"It… it would be better if I did what you ordered of my own free will. You can release me and I promise to do whatever you want. But take the chains off me, and don't cut me with that knife!" Her voice had turned shrill. The man laughed in her face.

"You'll do what I want now. And I don't have to worry about you breaking your promise and running away. Not that running would do you any good. No cop will believe your story. It's your word against mine. I'm respected in this community. I'm leading the team to a winning year. That makes me someone special, and you're shit! You're nothing!"

Debbie recognized the ring of truth in the man's words. It would be her story against his if she managed to get away. A few bruises and a tormented pussy didn't verify her story. Anyone could have raped her. It didn't have to be the general manager successful football team. He could concoct any sort of a story he wanted.

Maybe he'd tell the police he lad fired her, and her lies were how she planned to strike back at him personally. Or he could simply say she was off in the head, candidate for the funny farm. Anything Bradford said was believable; anything Debbie said would be taken as a lie or the ravings of a demented mind.

"Such a nice tit. A shame to waste it on a cockteaser like you."

He traced around the turgid nipple with the point of his blade. She shuddered at the hardness, the coldness, the sharpness of the blade. He leaned forward slightly and the very tip of the blade bit into her tit. She shrieked as a tiny drop of blood welled up. The man dropped to his knees, cupped her injured breast in his hand and nursed greedily. She felt him sucking the blood from her wound. The girl closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself somewhere else, with someone else. She failed.