Robert Vickers: Chained cheerleader

Debbie found herself staring. She couldn't help it. She watched the clean, white flash of legs moving swiftly, lithely. Pussies came and went, securely positioned in the slingshot like pouches of their g-strings. Tits were mashed down flat and held in while the tiny vests were fastened. Knee high boot finished the picture.

Debbie realized she would be late for practice if she dawdled any more. She looked around one last time to see if anyone was watching her. No one paid her the slightest bit of attention. She was only one more naked girl in a sea of absolutely sexy women.

She wiggled into the g-string, marveling at the way it molded itself to her cunt lips. She tried tucking in her pussy fur and found that no matter how much she tried, it always stuck out at the top of the g-string. She sighed. She would have to shave off some of her lovely blonde pussy fleece. The singular triangular piece in back of her fitted firmly into the crack of her ass. With every movement it grated against her skin.

But it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, the feel of it moving slowly over her naked flesh turned her on. She knew it had to be the tightness of the g-string. It pressed into her sex slit and on to her clitoris. The blonde just hoped that she wouldn't embarrass herself when she got in front of people. She had the horrible vision of actually coming, due to the feel of her costume.

She sighed and hung her blouse up in the tiny locker. The vest was something else. Tight, almost too tight, she was wiggling into it when she heard harsh breathing behind her. Startled she sees Mr. Bradford standing and watching her every movement.

"Mr. Bradford!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to hurry you up, you dumb bitch. The others are already on the field. Get that ass of yours in gear or I'll whip it all the way out onto the sidelines."

His words were harsh but the way his eyes moved over her body was obscene. She felt as if her entire body were naked to his lustful gaze. "Whoa what about my boots?" she stammered, trying to cover her confusion.

"Later. Just get a pair of tennis shoes from equipment."

"Mr. Bradford," she said firmly, "get the hell out of here while I dress. You're not supposed to be in here."

"The hell, I'm not. Remember, I'm the general manager. Besides that, you, women types fought to get women reporters into the team locker room. That cuts both ways, bitch. If women can get in and get a cheap thrill seeing naked. Jocks, then there's nothing wrong with a man going into a women's locker room. That's the law. Now shake that ass!"

Debbie was stunned. What he said was true, but she had never thought that particular ruling would ever affect her. She wasn't a reporter and had no desire to go see a bunch of sweaty men after a football game. And yet it didn't seem right that Mr. Bradford could come in here and watch her dress, feeling definitely uncomfortable in the costume, grabbed a pair of tennis shoes and hurried out onto the field. The team was going through their calisthenics, and the cheerleaders were groped at one side of the field. Debbie ran over and joined them.

"Did Bradford give you any shit?" asked Sherry, moving up beside Debbie.

The blonde could only shake her head. She was of breath from running and didn't quite trust her voice.

Debbie had thought she would be the beauty of the team of cheerleaders. She was stunned at the sight of so many lovely girls. Not a one wouldn't have turned heads twice on the street. And dressed in such tiny costumes, she wondered if my male in the stadium ever watched the game while the girls we out cheering.

"Good," said Sherry. "And if you run into any trouble with him, just let me know. Okay?"

Debbie didn't have a chance to answer. They formed up lines and began to go through their drills. The practice session was tiring, but she ended up feeling happy about it. Even aroused. The motion of the soft inner lining of the vest across her nipples thrilled her. Every leap made it stroke and caress her tits. The motion of her legs scissoring back and forth, spreading wide with jumps and splits made the tiny g-string rub into her moist flesh. Her pussy lips were actually hard with lust, and she felt the beginnings of dampness welling up inside her.

She was hornier than hell after the workout… She tried to keep her mind off the players on the field. She wondered if they felt the same way after they finished. Somehow, seeing the way they smashed into each other, she doubted it. They were probably bone tired and not wanting anything except going to bed to sleep.

The girl felt a hand on her almost naked ass. Surprised, she turned and saw Bradford standing behind her. As her eyes opened in amazement that he would try such a thing in public, he squeezed down hard on her asscheeks. She squealed in surprise.

"Quiet," he said. "This is going to be little session just between you and me."

"Mr. Bradford, get that damned hand of yours off my butt!"

He smiled, and it was an evil smile. He shook his head as he said, "You don't understand the arrangements here, do you? I hire, I fire. And I fire with malice. Nobody gets a job anywhere if I get nasty about it. You wouldn't want me to do that, would you?"

His hand stroked the smooth flesh of her butt. Fingers probed under the thin band of her g-string and sought the humid crease of her ass. His finger aroused her more than she cared to admit. She was horny from the practice session, with its sexy movements and blatant cheers. But with him? No! "Leave me alone!"

"Suck my cock or you'll be out on the street in five minutes!" he snapped.

The words took her completely by storm. Her emotions rampaging inside her almost drowned her. She didn't have the slightest idea what she should do. She didn't like the man not in the least but he was her boss. And he could fire her. She wanted the job more than she had wanted anything in the entire world. To lose it now would be terrible!

But sucking his cock might be even worse. It would invite him to take future liberties with her.

Her horniness finally won out, that and the desire to continue. She would be discovered, and then she could leave this lousy place. She'd show Mr. Bradford then!

"On your knees," he ordered, seeing the look of submission enter her eyes. He shoved her down until her face was even with his crotch. The huge bulge there told of his hard-on struggling to get free. She reached out and took hold of the zipper, her hands shaking slight.

"Suck, dammit, suck! Now!" He reached down and grabbed a handful of hair. He pulled her face toward, his crotch.

"NO!" she flared. "Not like this. I'm not some sort of animal to be used whenever you feel like it. Fire me and be damned!"

"You're going to suck my cock," he said, his voice level ad low and more menacing than if he had shouted at her.

She glanced around, hoping to find some ally to come to her aid. Sherry, perhaps, or one of the other cheerleaders. They had all seemed like decent enough girls. But even the football team had gone into the showers. She and Bradford were alone in the stadium.

He dragged her out to the middle of the field. Her fright growing, she wondered if he would rape her. He seemed to be capable of anything. If he wanted, he could do anything at all to her and no one would see it. Nothing is quite as lonely as a stadium after a game.

"Suck my cock, dammit, cunt!"

He stood, legs spread wide. His hand kept a firm grip in the back of her hair. He pulled her head toward his groin again, making obscene thrusting motions with his hips.

She gulped hard and quickly pulled down his zipper. His cock leaped out, as eager as a racehorse at the starting gate. She tried to back off but his hand wouldn't let her. She had no choice but to try and get his rocks off as fast as she could. Maybe then he would leave her alone.