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Three Expulsions

Part 1

Three Expulsions

Introduction and Disclaimer

This is a strange, strange story.

There are several premises the story asks you to buy into, which are completely unrealistic--i.e., which mark it out as complete fantasy.

First, it's set in some kind of alternate universe where adults attend school. Not college. School, like high school, middle school, etc. Perfectly mentally normal, it's just that they go to school while they're adults. And apparently they don't age, because no matter what "grade" they're in, they're around the same age--very young adults. (Hence, you'll note, no references to character's ages are made in the part of this story that comes after the title below--because the characters in this story, whatever the setting and however they may be described, are not children. Indeed, as far as I can tell, no children exist in this world whatsoever. That highlights the degree to which this story should be understood as mere fantasy.)

Second, people in this world don't form actual friendships or loving bonds. They show affection when it's pleasurable, but no one feels any kind of obligation toward anyone but themselves. It's basically a planet full of psychopaths. How they've formed a coherent society is anyone's guess. Nothing like the world depicted here would ever work in real life.

These people clearly aren't human.

Third, incest is completely normal in this world. It is utterly unremarkable for daughters to be fucked by fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, what-have you. And all the other combinations you can think of.

Fourth, public sexualized torture and killing is an everyday occurrence. Indeed, rape is itself a standardized, rule-governed activity. Everyone is liable to be raped, not to mention severely tortured or even murdered, at any time, and there are rules in place for who may rape (and/or torture and/or murder) whom and when. It really is rape because the victims really don't want it to happen. And it really is murder, despite it's in-world legality, because it's killing that is utterly morally repugnant. But rape, torture and murder are a daily risk of living in the world of this story, and everyone knows this and accepts it as normal and moves on afterwards. (Like I said, these people clearly are not human.) And because of the aforementioned lack of any true friendship or love, no one mourns the loss of anyone. Indeed, your own closest "friends" and "family" are just as likely to see entertainment value in your torture and death as anything else.

Fifth, the setting is kind of a near-future one, with self-driving cars, wearable always-on computers, artificially grown organisms, and things like that.

Nothing in this story models anything realistic at all. It is a weird, alternative fantasy world full of events that must never occur in the real world.

No but seriously, make sure you have this through your head before reading any further. This story is fantasy. These people are not human. Nothing in here should be (or even can be) imitated. Not only are rape, torture and killing wrong, corporal punishment of any kind is wrong, and any violence one person does to another should be with the others' fully informed and rational consent.

Don't read any further, and instead stop everything and seek help, if you have any inkling of an idea that for you, nonconsensual incest, rape, torture or murder might be something you'd enjoy in real life, or if you would ever contemplate physically harming someone as a form of punishment. If that describes you, then I didn't write this story for you. I wrote it because, for some inexplicable reason, the FANTASY of such activities is very erotic to me, and I expect there are others who share these fantasies, even though the REALITY of such activities would be utterly repugnant to me-and I expect the same of you.


"Daddy, how am I supposed to cum with your dick in my ass?

Bridget was getting desperate. Her dad was laying under her, grinning, as she worked her asshole up and down on his cock. He'd been in there a few times, but not enough that it had stopped hurting for her to be stretched out so much down there. And never before had he demanded that she cum before he would let himself squirt and she could get off of him.

Behind her, her older sister Samantha was sighing with frustration. On her knees, nude, her arms behind her back and clamps on her nipples, she was growing very impatient with the situation. "Can you please just hurry this up?" she demanded. "We're going to be so late for school."

Dad laughed. "How's Bridget supposed to learn if we don't give her a chance to fail?"

Samantha groaned. "For fuck's sake, Bridge, It's easy. Just get it over with!"

Bridge was near the point of tears. "I caaaaan't! It hurts too much and nothing is touching my clit!"

"Okay," said Dad after a few more minutes of Bridge's tearful struggles. "I'll make it a little easier on you this time. Samantha, take off your clamps and put them on Bridge."

Bridge went wide-eyed. "How's that supposed to help me Daddy?!"

"It's not, but I'm not going to make your sister help you cum without making you pay a little price."

Bridge stopped pumping for a few moments, resting impaled in the ass on her dad's cock while her sister approached from behind and placed the clamps. Bridge hissed. "Oweeee!"

"Okay," continued Dad. "Have at her."

"Finally!" said Samantha, and began helping her sister out.

There was no particular love between the two sisters, but each was quite intimately familiar with the other's body and considered the other a primary object of lust. So, not as a show of affection, but as a practical matter of getting her sister to finish, Samantha began eagerly running her lips and tongue around the back of her sister's neck, and up and down her shoulder blades and backbone, while reaching around and beginning to stroke her sister's clit roughly.

The change in Bridge's demeanor was palpable. Her rigid, pained clenched muscles began moving in a new way, still just as tight, but now open, liquid, ready for pleasure--even as her nipples and asshole were in agony.

The girl who'd just been crying "oweeee!" now began moaning "oh fuck fuck fuck!" as her body got ready to explode in orgasm.

Her dad watched with pleasure as his daughter clenched helplessly in the throes of agonized pleasure, tweaking her nipple clamps as she yipped and hissed in eager pain. "Okay now," he said before she had completely come down, "My turn."

"Yes sir," she moaned and began pumping her ass up and down on his cock again, leaning down to lick one of his nipples while tweaking the other with her hand. Meanwhile Samantha, still behind her sister, moved downward and began stroking her father's cock with her tongue as it exited and entered her sister's ass. She took turns between doing this and taking his balls tenderly into her mouth.

Though this was all meant to get her out of the house and into school as early as possible, she couldn't help but feel the pleasures of the situation at the same time. Though she wasn't allowed to do so, she knew her dad couldn't see from his angle (and probably didn't much care). She began stroking herself.

She didn't get to finish before her dad did, though. With a kind of restrained roar, he jammed his cock deeply into Bridge's ass and as she yelled in agony at the increased impalement, thrust his jism into her body.

"Nicely done there at the end," he said with a grin and climbed out from under her after Samantha had finished cleaning him off with her mouth. "So Sam, just clean out her asshole with your tongue, deposit my sperm in Bridge's mouth and make her cum again and you guys are good to go."

"Dad we're already like an hour late!"

"Ah so now you're going to do all that while I whip you with my belt. And Bridge, for your sister's outburst you're keeping those clamps on til you cum again."

"Fuuuuuuck" both girls said in aggravation. But there was nothing for it. Sam went down to Bridge's asshole with her tongue, and started digging.


Afterwards, outside, the two girls approached Samantha's car. They were dressed carefully in outfits that passed the school dress code. Samantha had to be careful, given her position as class president, to surpass expectations. So she wore no underwear, a tight revealing top with just one shoulder strap, and a skirt that did not hide her beautiful shaven underparts at all. Bridge meanwhile wore heels with no socks, a pair of jeans shorts and a shirt completely open down the middle, managing to hide her nipples only with the clever application of tape.

Both girls were wearing their AOGs as well. Aural-Ocular gear--tasteful, jewel-like earrings and eye decorations which conveyed information directly to their ocular and aural nerves. Their AOGs served many functions, not the least of which was to field buy-outs from other students at their school.

At school, any student could offer to "buy out" any other student at any time. What this meant was the buyer presented to the school's computer network a buy-out offer, detailing how many merit points the student was willing to spend for the right to rape and/or torture the buyee for some number of minutes. There was a fairly straightforward pricing system--the proposed buyout would include lists of body parts and activities, and the school set standard values on each of those activities and body parts. Each body part value was multiplied by the corresponding activity value, then these were all totaled up to determine how many points the student was offering to spend.

The buyee had five minutes to respond. The buyee could either spend enough of his or her own merit points to match the offer, in which case both students lost the merit points and nothing else happened. Or else the buyee could spend less than the offered buy-out--or even zero points--in which case the buyee had a right to engage in rape and torture activities victimizing the buyee for as long as the leftover points allowed.

Of course the buyee could also spend more points than the buy-out offer, in which case the tables were turned. There was no way for the buyer to back out in such revenge cases--they had to take their licks, so to speak.

At present, both girls were losing merit points fast, and low-value buy-out offers were incoming every few minutes or so--students hoping to get a few minutes in with one or both of the famously sexy pair. Both girls had enough merit points stored up to fend off these small offers without risk. But that could only last so long.

"Let me drive," said Bridge, to which Sam simply snorted. "Who says you're even getting in the car?"

"Dad said to go to school!"

"Then go to school!" said Sam, "but you're not getting a ride from me!"

As Sam hopped in the car and started it up, Bridge shouted at her in fury. "Bitch!"

But of course this was to no avail. Sam zoomed off, and Bridge had to face the prospect of a forty-five minute walk, and even further loss of merit points.

This was going to be a hard day. Bridge could comfort herself only by fantasizing about somehow buying her sister out and whipping her cunt for hours before raping it with the cruelest strap-on dildo she could afford. But even as she began sullenly walking down the road with such pleasurable thoughts, she knew it could never happen--Sam just had too many points. Nobody could touch her.


Sam ran from her car to the office where she was supposed to be. As Senior class president, one of her duties was to forego one elective course and instead meet with the principle and her class vice president to plan student events and discuss disciplinary questions. She rushed into the principle's office, winded. The vice president--Eric--was smirking from one side of the room, while the principle just winced at the manner of her entrance. On her knees in front of the principle, going down on him, was a friend of Sam's--Violet. Interestingly, Violet was nude and had her hands cuffed behind her back, which was not very common except in extreme disciplinary circumstances in which it was likely the student may attempt to run away.

There across from the two of them was Violet's dad, sitting on a couch, baldly stroking his own cock.

"Keep Violet's father happy while I finish up here, will you Sam?" asked the principle. Samantha knew she was in enough trouble not to protest. She immediately forced herself to grin, approached Violet's dad, and sat on his lap facing him, rubbing his cock up against her pussy.

She let him kiss her while she began to work him inside her. He muttered "that's fine, but just a little bit--I'm here to fuck her mostly." He nodded towards his daughter.

She gave him a smoldering grin. "Absolutely, honey." As a young woman in her society she'd learned long ago how to navigate the various attitudes different men liked. This slightly chubby man's slack-jawed look immediately told her he liked a little bit of mothering. Hence the "honey." He smiled and began kneading her breasts under her shirt.

When the principle finally squirted into Victoria's mouth, Sam disengaged from Victoria's dad so he could go over to his daughter.

Sam could see that Victoria had been crying, and was even now quietly sobbing. This, too, was unusual--there were no signs that she'd been whipped, much less spanked.

Eric yawned, bored. "Can I fuck Sam while they're going at it?" he asked. Sam knew she was owed a serious lack of merit points. She dared not protest.

"No," said the principle, "but as she's ninety minutes late for school, she's owed a loss of nine hundred points. You can administer the punishment, but we need to get it over with so you'd better take it out on her cunt.

Eric sighed, standing up. "Fine..." he said, disappointed in the lack of fucking.

When students lost merit points, each point lost was accompanied by a swat on the ass from a paddle. But if the number of swats was unrealistic for some reason, they could be consolidated through the use of other implements or the beating of other body parts. For nine hundred points, administered directly to the cunt, she could be in for anything from forty five swats with the belt to...

She saw Eric casually reach for the whip, and felt a little faint.

But she was a good girl.

She found a position herself, laying backwards on the couch, her legs splayed upwards, her ass resting on the back of the couch, her pussy open and ready to receive the blows. She watched Victoria being anally raped by her dad and tried to think only about that as Eric positioned himself.

She kept herself open for him, but screamed completely out of control when the first stripe landed against her pussy. He wasn't holding back. This was going to be sore for days.

Why was Victoria beginning to cry again? Sam couldn't think about the possibilities in the light of her own suffering. Even though with a whip she was only going to get nine swats, she completely lost count. It must have been that she only got hit eight times, though, because Eric stopped, then whined "Can I please fuck her mouth now? I'll cum in way less than ten minutes anyway," and got a positive answer from the principle. Ten minutes would correspond to exactly one more whip blow to the pussy.

From her upside-down position, she eagerly took his dick into her mouth as she gingerly closed her legs.

Once both men had deposited their sperm into the two girls' respective non-vaginal holes, and got zipped up, the principle spoke again. "Alright, Victoria, it's time to talk about your expulsion."

Samantha froze. Expulsion meant Victoria couldn't go to school again. But girls who didn't go to school--weren't allowed to be anywhere else. And no girl who failed to graduate had any ability to serve in any capacity past graduation age. Basically, a student who was expelled was completely useless and had nothing to look forward to. That student's life was over.


No wonder Victoria was now weeping.

Expulsions were not at all unheard of--several dozen students were expelled every year. Every student knew the dangers. But you just don't think it will happen to you, until it does.

And of course, there was the fact that upon expulsion, you lose all merit points. Meaning all those accumulated swats--and the fact that until the expulsion was completed, any student could buy you out and you had no way to fight back.

"What the hell did you do, Victoria?" Sam asked in surprise, breaking protocol in speaking directly to her friend.

The principle interrupted. "Victoria was caught cheating. Her father was consulted, and as he has already had to pay for her to attend the Correctional Institute twice before, we determined together that expulsion is the correct penalty.

And so, as her class president, it's your job to carry out the expulsion."

Of course. Sam had completely forgotten. One of the perks of the presidency was her role as chief expulsioner for her class. It was still early in the year, so she hadn't had the chance to take advantage of this perk yet. She was sad for her friend but... starting to get excited. The painful lacerations across her pussy fought with the growing pleasurable excitement down there for supremacy.

But what about... "Doesn't she need to be on display for a day so everybody can sign up to rape her and stuff?" Victoria held back a horrified scream from her huddled, cuffed position in the corner, but Sam was in planning mode and paid her no mind.

"No, this expulsion is to be unusual. We have some very strict instructions concerning the time-frame of this expulsion. It is to be immediate."

"Instructions from who?" asked Sam.


"Yeah... 'whom,'" she rolled her eyes.

"Instructions, my dear Sam, and that's all you need to know."

"Yes sir." That was mysterious but whatever.

"The instructions for her expulsion will be sent to your AOG. Walk her down to The Room."

Sam approached Victoria. "Alright. Make this easy, okay?"

Victoria sobbed, but even through her terror, intended to display the appropriate bravery. She nodded, and stood up. "Can I be uncuffed?"

Sam didn't wait for a reply from the principle. She smiled into Victoria's ear, and whispered, "No fucking way you lovely bitch." And firmly and only a little bit roughly, walked Victoria out the door, nude, and into the hallway full of students traveling between class.


Bridget's trip to school was fairly drama free, as it happened. She set out on the 45 minute walk hoping to catch a ride. The only people who could legally rape her were her parents, school faculty or staff, or students who had bought her out. She was free to give herself to anyone else, but no one else was allowed to force her to fuck them. She was confident that she could gain a ride then--she knew herself to be a pretty desirable little fuck and figured she could make the trade pretty easily.

She hadn't bargained on the car that eventually did pull up beside her being a cop car. She was currently truant from school. Potentially this could mean a citation, meaning loss of all merit points and up to a week in Corrections. But Bridget played it cool, hoping to bribe her way out of that situation.

The window rolled down and the woman cop inside called out "Hey, baby, why aren't you in school?"

Bridget glanced over sidelong at the police woman. H er uniform (for woman cops, this involved short shorts and what amounted to a kind of sports bra with a badge) showed quite a fit body. Bridget began hoping bribery worked for more than one reason. "My cunt sister stood me up for a ride, now I have to walk."

"You're pretty late, you could get in some serious trouble you know," the cop suggested. She was grinning. Bridget knew this was meant as an opening.

"Can I... can I get a ride?"

"Well I was planning on giving you a ride after I write up your citation..."

The car stopped when Bridget did. She leaned over the window, making sure the lady cop could see her breasts down her shirt. "I was kind of hoping we could have some fun and let the citation go."

The lady cop unapologetically took in Bridget's boobs with her eyes, then reached over and caressed her cheek as though petting a puppy. "Awe that's sweet, little girl, but for a ride and no citation? That'd have to be at least a night with me and my girlfriend."

"I don't know how I can swing that," said Bridget, discouraged. "I got a curfew..."

"It's up to you sweetie," said the lady cop. She was showing her boobs off too.

"But what do you want to do?"

The cop said nothing but had her AOG send Bridget's AOG an opening offer. This was not a negotiation for merit points--no one had anything to do with that but students and school faculty and staff. Instead, this was their two AOGs communicating offers and counteroffers based on the intimate knowledge each had of what their wearer's predilections, limits, and current desires. Bridget's AOG, because of Bridget's great desire to get a ride, was predisposed to allow for a little more than she'd normally wish.

The final offer came through. There was no specific routine, just a set of activity types that would be allowed. Every sexual activity was to be allowed, and all spanking activities--hitting the body with a rigid instrument or hand, anywhere on the body.

"Spanking, huh?" Bridget said.

"It's one of our two main kinks. But neither of us really likes to be the spankee so... you'd be doing the honors."


The lady cop guffawed. "I promise we'll make it worth your while."

"Okay. I'll do it."


A little foolish due to lust and desperation to get to school, Bridget okayed it. "Yeah, tonight."

The lady cop unlocked the door. "Hop on in kiddo!"

She had Bridget remover her top, and groped her legs and pussy at every stop sign, but that was all they did on the way. As she pulled up to the school, the cop leaned over and kissed Bridget deeply on each of her nipples. Bridget sighed and relaxed into it, then accepted a third kiss deep into her mouth.

The cop then gazed into her eyes, smiling. "You're cute. Can't wait til tonight!" With that, she opened the door and pushed Bridget out, gently but firmly, so that she had to catch herself on the parking lot with her hands. The cop threw Bridget's shirt out after her, and took off laughing.

Bridget put on her top as she ran to the school doors, hoping they'd let her in.


Samantha walked behind Victoria, her hand firmly on Victoria's shoulder. The nude, cuffed girl continued sobbing quietly, but walked obediently towards the gym as she had been instructed.

The students scurrying from class to class didn't know that Victoria had been expelled--she hadn't been put on display, no special rape sessions had been arranged. As far as they knew, she was in serious trouble (as she was crying and being forced to be nude and cuffed in public) but also knew enough refrain from asking questions out loud. If they were to know what was going on, it would be announced--or rumors would fly through the AOGs.

From behind Samantha came Eric's voice: "Hey sorry about your umm..."

"My pussy?"

"Yeah your pussy. Sorry about that. You know."

"What the fuck ever."

"Anyway we're going to get a chance at her before she's dispatched, right?"

"Who's we?

"You know, me and the guys? And you too I guess if you want."

"Eric, my instructions were very clear. I'm taking her to the gym and I'm going to expel her. The principle didn't give permission for anybody to fuck her."

"Oh come on, who's going to care? Don't be such a tease."

"I'm not teasing you," Samantha whirled around at the fairly serious insult. Teasing was not just against school rules, it was a crime.

Victoria stood by her, naked and shivering, waiting for this conversation to be over. "I'm just telling you the facts, Eric. Nobody's allowed to touch her."

"Yeah yeah," he said. Then as they continued walking, "I'll buy you out if you don't let us have her first."

"Ha! You know I could easily match any offer you send me--and double it." Samantha had a reputation for making boys cry in The Room.

"We'll gang you."

Well shit. That meant he and his friends would all put in large offers. She could stave off most of them, leaving them all vulnerable, but in the end, she'd have to submit to a raping by one or more of them, and she'd have little left to get any kind of revenge. And she'd be vulnerable to other offers afterwards.

But it was a gamble. Each student participating in a ganging knew he or she might end up one of the ones left out. It took determination and loyalty to pull one off.

And Eric's buds were his buds. She knew they'd follow through if he told them to.


Eric grinned, and started signaling to his buds through his AOG.

Samantha, Victoria and Eric entered the gym where, just as promised, everything had been set up. A post was standing in the middle of the space, with a ring for cuffs at just about the height of Victoria's wrists if she stretched up on her toes. Another cuff ring was at the foot of the post, and right at where Victoria's neck would be, there was a kind of collar.

Victoria, seeing the place where her life was going to end, nearly collapsed, and began crying anew.

Samantha felt her clitoris gorging at her former friend's suffering, and led her over to the post. As she raised Victoria's hands over her sobbing face, Samantha leaned in and kissed Victoria's cheeks gingerly, then her lips even as Victoria continued crying. Somehow this unreturned kiss--the feeling of Victoria's wet lips moving unresponsive to Sam's own, the poor girl's tongue straining for escape just as the girl would be in a few minutes--this was the most erotic feeling Samantha thought she had ever felt.

Then the boys began streaming in. "Alright, we just have fifteen minutes!" yelled Eric. They had practice after that. They were supposed to be getting prepped right now but they'd swing it for a chance at a last fuck with this girl. "What did you already chain her up for, Sam?!"

Sam hadn't been thinking, but no matter anyway. The boys easily undid the clamps that secured the base of the post to the floor, and simply laid the post down, with Victoria still cuffed to it. She fell unceremoniously to the floor, hitting her knees, then her shoulder.

Samantha rolled her eyes at the crudity of this. As the boys began stuffing Victoria's mouth, asshole and pussy with their dicks, she opened up the instructions for Victoria's expulsion and began reading.

Her eyes went wide. Whoever had set this up must really have something out for Victoria. Samantha had never seen anything like this.

Boys came over to her as she read, expecting fluffing services as they got ready to rape Victoria. Samantha would usually at least protest this, but she was too busy imagining how she could pull off the incredible cruelties she had just read about. She simply reached over, stroked one boys cock and took another in her mouth as she tried to plan out her actions in her mind.

Once most of the boys had emptied themselves into Victoria, Samantha took a position at Victoria's face and forced the girl to eat her pussy. After she and the last boy finally came, they lifted up Victoria's post--Victoria limply following along--and resecured it.

Samantha secured Victoria's feet and neck as the boys left for practice, and now it was time.

"I'm almost sorry for what I'm about to do," said Samantha to Victoria's breathing but seemingly uncaring (or perhaps unconscious) form.

"But not quite."

She picked up the gardening shears.


Bridget arrived at school just as the lunch bell was ringing. She tried to enter non-chalantly and blend in with the crowd of students heading to the cafeteria, but was spotted almost immediately. Mrs. Spivey, the cheerleading coach, grasped her by the shoulder and firmly turned her around just as she was about to enter the cafeteria door.

"Hey Bridge, how's it going?" the athletic woman grinned.

Bridge knew where this was going, and didn't smile back. "Um, fine?"

"We've been looking for you all morning."

"I know Mrs. Spivey, I'm, uh, sorry?"

The coach laughed. "No lunch for you today, you're coming with me to pay off the punishment for the merit points you're losing today. What is it?" Mrs. Spivey paused, consulting her AOG. "A lot," she grinned.

Fuck. "Am I going to be, um, modeling?"

"Hell yes you're going to be modeling. My girls deserve a treat anyway. Out of those clothes, show off your bod as you walk."

Fuck fuck.

Modeling for cheerleading practice was pretty traumatic. It meant she was going to be a stand in for an opposing team's cheerleader. Many cheerleading routines involved the use of a victim cheerleader from the other team--all the schools in the district had long ago agreed to offer up one such victim per game--but between games a stand-in had to take the victim's place. Today that stand-in was to be Bridget.

Walking down the hall nude (her clothes having been left behind on the floor, she'd probably never see them again) guided firmly from behind by Mrs. Spivey, several boys and girls figured such a plight must mean she was down a lot of merit points. Offers came flowing in from all sides.

Her grades and the favor she showed the staffs and admins with great regularity (coupled with her good looks and money from daddy) kept her quite rich in merit points so she staved off the offers with little trouble. One student she particulary despised--a boy from a grade lower than her--she bought back using double the amount. With the amount she paid, she'd get to whip his cock and crush his balls for almost half a minute--enough to make any male cry. She had to prove she couldn't be messed with--though in truth her merit point level was lower than she'd ever seen it. She was slightly worried.

As they entered the dance floor, Mrs. Spivey called out "Good afternoon girls, I brought you a present."

The cheerleaders, all dressed in their semi-transparent latex cheerleader outfits and examining the tool table that had been left against a wall, looked over at Bridget and starting "ooo"ing in excitement. A chance to hurt her was a pretty rare occurrence. Every student aspired to getting Bridget or her sister (or, perhaps impossibly, both!) tied down and victimized.

"Oh my god, Mrs. Spivey, can we rape her?" asked the head cheerleader holding up a gigantic strap-on that had been left on the table.

"Each winner will get her turn with her, but we have to have the competition first."

She led Bridget over to the contraption she would be secured to--chains hanging from the ceiling and bolts secured to the floor, such that she'd be trapped in a spread-eagle position standing up in the midst of the room, exposed on every side and unable to dodge anything any girl might do to her.

"Competition?" asked Bridget.

"Yes," said Mrs. Spivey. "Do you see that meter?"

On the table was a machine of some kind with a readout, with numbers from one to ten.

"It registers the volume of your voice. Each time you scream, we'll record the number reached. The total of all the numbers will equal the number of times you will be whipped directly on the asshole. And the three girls who got you to the highest number will get to administer that whipping--and then three-way you, your mouth at the cunt of one girl, one huge fucking dildo in your cunt, and an even huger fucking strap-on in your bruised asshole."

While delivering this information, as the cheerleaders squealed in anticipation, Mrs. Spivey together with the head cheerleader got Bridget's limbs secured to the chains and stretched her taut. At hearing what was to happen to her, Bridget began hyperventilating.

When the first of the twenty girls on the squad approached her with needles, Bridget almost screamed before she was even touched. When the needle went into her left nipple, she gave a high pitched grunt-squeal that registered a three on the device.

"Disappointing!" said Mrs. Spivey. Bridget, through the pain, was dumbfounded. She had never felt pain like that, and the noise it forced out of her was only a three?

When the next girl approached with another needle, and stuck it under one of Bridget's big toenails, Bridget realized she hadn't felt pain yet. What wrenched itself out of her went straight up to nine.

Of course the third girl, realizing there was only one way to potentially top this, stuck a needle straight into Bridget's clitoris. That was a ten.

It was hard to top that. The next girl jammed a needle directly into Bridget's anal sphincter, eliciting a violent reaction from her and a scream rating seven, and after that they were out of needles. She lost track of everything they did to her. One girl cruelly clamped her nipples and twisted the clamps, but this was no worse than what she suffered at the hands of her own dad at least once a weak so that just got a two out of her. Another girl whipped her across the breasts--she was allowed to hit Bridge five times--as hard as she could, and yet another girl whipped her across the front of her legs. For Bridge, the latter was much worse than the former as the first girl only managed to land on the nipples one time anyway. Still these were just in the five range or so.

The worst aside from the needles was the head cheerleader. She got clever, instead of pulling a tool off the table she went to the wench controlling Bridget's restraints, and set them to stretch her out even further. Once Bridget realized what was happening, she started begging. "Nonono this could be a permanent injury!" she cried, pleading to Mrs. Spivey to make it stop. The chains pulled harder and harder, insisting, and she became terrified one or both of her shoulders would dislocate. She began to hyperventilate, and completely lost control over herself, finally uttering an animal cry of terror as her body began uncontrollably panicking.

That was when Mrs. Spivey finally reached past the head cheerleader (who was herself merely grinning at the suffering she was causing--and reveling in the fact that the meter was reading as high as it could physically go) and stopped the stretching.

As Bridget dropped to the floor, curling up into a nude feminine weeping ball, the three winning cheerleders approached her. They pulled her wrists forward to bolts in the wall and re-secured her. Then one cheerleader held open Bridget's asscheecks, and the three winners took turns beating her asshole directly with a belt for a total of eighty seven blows.

Then the head cheerleader put the four-inch wide studded dildo onto a strap-on set and began raping Bridget's gibbering form directly into her bruised ass.

As the other two girls also took position to rape her mouth and cunt, Bridget, in her agony, hardly noticed. She simply let them use her body. But there was a single good thought she was having, and she held onto it through her suffering.

She knew how she could get revenge on Samantha.

She would join the cheerleading squad herself. And wield the power to put Samantha into the position she had been in today, hopefully every goddamn day.


That evening, Samantha was at home with Dad. She had on a shirt and nothing else. They were eating dinner, watching TV, and idly groping each other. Just having a normal evening. "So where is Bridget anyway," she asked.

Dad smiled. "She thinks I think she's at a friends house working on a group project."

"Is she not?"

"No she's not."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I'll be thinking about that, but meanwhile I thought this'd be a great time for you and I to get some alone time!" He leaned in and began kissing his daughter's neck. "I've got some new tools in the basement, I need to try them out."

Samantha couldn't get her mind off of the expulsion she'd administered that morning. She knew herself to enjoy causing pain to others, but that she could enjoy even the act of literally cutting off a girl's nipples, and burning her cunt and asshole til she passed out--she was both horrified and fascinated.

And then she'd personally thrown the switch that caused the collar around Victoria's neck to slowly close, and watched the poor girl's face--indeed, holding eye contact with her--as she struggled to breathe.

Was this a career? Was she an executress? She would never have expected it. But even thinking about it now brought forth feelings of intense need as well as disgust and horror.

"Sounds fun!" she grinned, turning to french her dad. As they disengaged, though, she said, while stroking his cock, But I was wondering..."

A bit taken aback at her forwardness, he asked, "yes...?"

"I've got some money saved up. I was wondering if we could order some Girl Slut Nookie tonight."

"Interesting... Why pay if we can just get your sister back home for whatever you're planning?"

"You know, Bridget's hot and all, but a little variety is, you know, always nice?"

"Okay well, I can't complain. How much do you have saved?"

She told him, and he laughed. "That won't get you much! Tell you what, it's on me. Whatever you want."

She smiled sweetly. "Thanks Daddy!" and went down on him as he placed the order on his AoG.

The Girl Sluts sold their feminine services to anyone who could buy, in exchange for the work experience and connections it gained them. It was risky to an extent--who knew what depravities clients might want them to cater to--but there was never a shortage of willing volunteers. (There was, of course, a corresponding Boy Sluts organization.)

The Girl Slut arrived at their doorstep within an hour. A beautiful asian girl wearing the characteristic Girl Slut sash and skirt, she cheerfully called out when Samantha opened the door, "Would you like to buy some Girl Slut Nookie? A Girl Slut is always prepared!"

Samantha took the Slut's hand and pulled her gently in, planting a passionate kiss on her lips. The Slut melted into it--she knew how to play her part, and maybe even genuinely enjoyed it.

When the kiss was finished, the Slut uploaded the menu into Samantha's AOG while the two girls walked into the living room to Samantha's waiting father.

They had a pleasant evening. The two girls began by making out with each other, letting Dad's dick join in as the third member of the makeout session. Eventually he came on both of their faces and they eagerly exchanged his cum back and forth with passionate kisses. From here the two girls slowly dropped to the floor and made love to each other while Samantha's dad watched.

The girls were still shaky from their orgasms, but Dad was ready to go again. They stood up and the three of them went to Dad's bedroom for a comfortable bed for a threesome. Before they started, Samantha told the Girl Slut in a friendly but demanding voice to sit on the bed and put her hands on the bed behind her back. Smiling in a sultry way as she saw Samantha and her dad raising up, respectively, a paddle and a belt. "I want to hear the other kind of moan first," said Samantha, to which the Slut simply replied with a smile, "Understood!"

Samantha hit the Girl Slut's breast with her paddle. The Slut kept eye contact on her as she hissed in pain. "Not enough to make you cry?" asked Samantha and the Slut replied, "No, not yet."

Now dad hit the Girl Slut's other breast with his belt. The Slut emitted a kind of whimper of protest but did not lose her composure.

"Tough girl, huh?" chuckled Samantha.

"You gotta earn it!" laughed the Slut in return.

So Samantha and Dad took turns beating the Girl Slut's breasts. After several more blows she lost the ability to maintain eye contact with them, and eventually did begin yelling "Oh fuck!" at the pain. Tears began to flow. But a good Girl Slut never asks her client to stop, and she didn't.

Finally Samantha couldn't take any more. She lept onto the crying girl, first kissing her face while humping her crotch, then sliding up across her body, dragging her cunt across the girl's bruised breasts, then turning around and sitting on her face.

As dad spread the girl's legs and placed his cock at the entrance to her cunt, Samantha grabbed two clamps from the drawer next to the bed and cruelly pinched the poor girls' bruised nipples while beginning to facefuck the girl with her pussy. The girl screamed at the sting, the vibration of her voice adding to Samantha's pleasure, and the passionate look on her face and movements of her body ensuring her dad's dick was rock hard and long as it pierced the Girl Slut's vagina.

As Dad thrust in and out of the Slut and Samantha raped her face while the girl squealed in pleasure and pain beneath them, Samantha leaned over and began whispering in her dad's ear, telling him what else she wanted to do to the girl.

He stopped fucking the girl's pussy momentarily, but only just. "That's expensive," he grunted. "You'll owe me."

"I know Daddy but it's what I really want. But don't place the order until later, I want it to be a surprise."

He grinned ruefully, and continued a-fucking.

When he'd finally finished, Samantha leaned over once again, this time to get into sixty-nine position with the agonized Girl Slut. She cleaned out her dad's cum from the girl's pussy while cumming on the girl's face. She then turned around, yanked the clamps off the girl's nipples and as the girl openly screamed, placed a cummy kiss into the girl's yelling mouth, rubbing the girl's clit til she, too, had an orgasm.

In the aftermath, as her dad lay half-asleep on his back and the two girls drank in each other's beauty on the bed beside him, idly kissing and stroking each other, the Girl Slut spoke up. "You guys are really good at this."

Samantha laughed. "We're the customer, we're supposed to be judging you."

"I know but you know, sometimes being a Girl Slut is fun, other times it's not, then there's those times when it's really... like... interesting. Makes me not know if I'm having the best or the worst day of my life."

Samantha kissed the girl. "Aww," she said as they disengaged, "I'm sure you say that to all the clients."

"Maybe," the girl winked. "But this time I really mean it."

"So what's your name?" asked Samantha.

"Sungli," said the girl.

"Sungli," repeated Samantha, "I love that name. Do you speak Chinese or anything?"

Sungli said some words in a sing-songy voice.

"That was beautiful, what does it mean?"

"Not telling!"

"Hah. Okay. So Sungli, what do you like to do? I mean other than fucking people and letting them hurt you?"

"That's pretty much it," said Sungli with a smile. "I mean, shopping is fun, and dancing. But I'm basically thinking about fucking the whole time. I might be a lifer."

"In the Sluts, you mean?"


"Other talents?"

"Well, I mean my mom makes me practice Violin like twenty hours a week. I'm pretty fucking good, but I hate it."

Sungli sent a video to Samantha's AOG. Samantha listened to the performance. Sungli stood on stage, nude, playing violin while a boy (also nude, cock fully erect) played Cello beside her. Their performance was somehow achingly erotic, and when the song was over, they put down their instruments and Sungli straddled the boy. The final part of the performance consisted in the two of them fucking til both had cum.

"Is that boy your..."

"My brother? Yes. We're a pair!"

"You're really good."

"I know."

Samantha laughed. "Humble much?"

"I mean, I hate it. My mom makes me do it. I like the fucking part, though."

Samantha grabbed the girl's crotch. "I bet you do." They kissed again, and Samantha crawled down to eat the girl out.

"Hey I'm supposed to be servicing you!" laughed Sungli.

"Consider it a tip. Anyway, Dad's about to fuck your ass," and indeed that was the case. From behind he rolled Sungli onto her side while Samantha kept playing with Sungli's clit with her tongue and fingers. She switched between taking his dick from her ass into his mouth, then when he put it back in the ass licking Sungli's clit some more. When he came into Sungli's ass, Samantha dutifully cleaned it out and deposited the sperm into Sungli's mouth as the girl's kissed. All the while she kept rubbing the girl's pussy til she finally came.

As the girl lay there sighing in the glow, Samantha smiled at her, keeping her eyes locked. Not looking away, she said quietly, "Okay, Dad. Put in the order."

Samantha's stomach went into sympathetic knots as she read Sungli's face as the order came through. The transition from true orgasmic contentment, to an incredibly brief pause of surprise and despair, to an almost immediate state of forced happiness so well done it could almost be real, the girl's reactions were incredible to watch.

"Okay," Sungli smiled. "Do you want me to go out to my car and get some tools for it? A Girl Slut is always prepared..."

Samantha smiled as well, gently. "No, thank you sweetie, we have what we need. You look a little scared."

"Well," said Sungli, a little shudder in her voice. "I mean, I was going to go out dancing after this... and Mom is going to freak..."

Samantha kissed the girl again. When a tear quietly escaped her eye, Samantha kissed it and returned it to its place.

As further, more detailed orders came in detailing exactly how they were going to do what they were going to do, Sungli's breaths became shallow, and an actual sob escaped from her lips. "Sorry!" she cried, "Sorry," and desperately tried to regain her composure.

"Sungli, you know this just makes me want you more."

"I know, it's not a trick, I promise," Sungli said and actually managed a kind of laugh. "Okay. Fuck. Okay I'm... I'm ready... I mean, I thought we were maybe going to be friends..."

Samantha smiled as she climbed up from the bed. "We are. We are very good friends. I will miss you forever, my very good friend, my passionate lover, Sungli the Girl Slut. That I promise."

Sungli smiled, doing her job. "Alright," she said, turning over to her stomach in anticipation of the plan that had been laid out for her. She put her hands behind her, meeting at the wrists. "I'm ready."

They bound her hands together, tightly. It was not Samantha's plan to be gentle with her new friend.


Things didn't get better for Bridget after cheerleading practice. Having "lost" her clothes, she had to borrow what the school had to offer to be in compliance with the school dress code. And what the school had to offer in such cases, for girls, was a two piece set called "The Nettles" together with a pair of "shoes" with heels so high that a student could hardly walk.

The Nettles was, by strict definition anyway, a pair of underwear and a bra, sufficing to "cover" her nipples, anus and pubis. Of course since the structure of these pieces of "clothing" was constructed out of loose metal wiring, you could nearly always see right through them to the parts underneath that were supposed to be hidden. But the school allowed this to pass.

The "nettles" part of the name came from the numerous tiny needles attached to the wiring these "garments" were made of. And the name was especially apt since the garment was typically dipped, prior to being put on, in an irritating solution, to help remind the student who was being forced to wear them that compliance with the school dress code was of great importance.

So Bridget spent the last half of the school day already bruised and aching from cheerleading practice having to walk mince around nearly stumbling over, every movement of her legs and arms tugging at the stinging nettles surrounding her pelvic and breast areas, nearly crying with pain every time she had to sit down or hold anything against her chest.

Students wearing the nettles wore them leaving campus as well, being required to return them the next day (or wear them again if their punishment required it). So when Bridget showed up at the policewoman's door, she was still wearing them.

The policewoman smirked, then tsked and clucked in happy concern as she opened the door. "Rough day!" she said, as she took in Bridget's cuts, bruises and sore manner of walking as she walked gingerly into the living room.

"Yeah, I got in big trouble for being late."

"I can see that. Well I want you to be all clean for my girlfriend so go ahead and get those, 'clothes?' off and feel free to luxuriate in our bath for a while.

Bridget was momentarily relieved. She'd be allowed a few minutes to herself. For that she was extremely grateful. Maybe she'd be able to get herself off once or twice in the time allotted.

But then just as she was about to enter the bathroom, the cop lady called her back over. "Shit, I'm sorry I just... you just look so good in those and I never got to do anything to a girl wearing them. Just for a few minutes, alright? Come bend over and put your hands on the arm of the couch."

Bridget, downcast, did as she was told.

"Spread your legs a little."

Bridget did so.

The cop lady had a hairbrush in hand, and started in with it, first spanking Bridget on her bare skin, but soon working her way to the part of her ass that was covered with the nettles. You would think by now her skin had immunized itself to the pain, but no. Bridget squealed unapologetically as the needles dug into her flesh, injecting the irritant again and again.

Cop lady put on a thick glove next and reached in between Bridget's legs, pressing upwards, jabbing the nettles directly into her pussy. Bridget closed her eyes, tears flowing freely and grunted in pain.

Cop lady pulsed her hand several times, in a motion that in other contexts might have been conducive to sexual pleasure for Bridget. But with the nettles on, it was simply agony. When a needle found its way to her clit every now and then, she made a kind of squeak grunt that cop lady seemed to find endearing.

"Haha okay, just a little more. You're really fucking hot you know, I almost can't help doing this shit to you." The cop lady took Bridget by the shoulders and had her turn around. Not gently, she lay Bridget down on her back on the couch, then climbed on top of her.

Grinding her clothed pelvis against Bridget's nettled pussy, the cop took the nettle bra roughly in hand and viciously manhandled her stinging breasts while forcing a kiss into Bridget's mouth.

Bridget just cried through the burning and the oral invasion until the policewoman had had her fill of Bridget's discomfort. "Haha oh man," the lady remarked. "I can't cum like this you tease. Go get washed up."

She pushed Bridget off the couch, holding onto her arms so that she slammed breasts-first into the floor. Bridget whimpered and crawled pitifully into the bathroom, and drew a bath, simpering over her wounds.

Cop lady never called her out of the bath--Bridget was allowed to spend as much time as she wanted to. She masturbated three or four times in the course of the bath, got all the irritant washed off of her, cleaned up her wounds as best she could, prettied up her hair, put on jewelry that had clearly been left out for her, and walked back into the living room stark naked.

Cop lady's girlfriend--a beautiful, very dark black and athletic woman--was sitting on the couch already, cuddling Cop lady, who by comparison seemed white as new paper.

The girlfriend spoke first. "Aww, she's all scratched up!"

Cop lady cooed. "I know, she wasn't like that when I found her but she got in trouble at school."

"Well you know what we do when our girls get in trouble at school. Everything that happens in their punishment at school gets translated into spankings here. So, what's your name girl?"

Bridget, still standing at the entrance to the bathroom, said softly "Bridget."

"Bridget, come kneel in front of us and tell us everything that happened to you at school."

Once she'd finished recounting everything, cop lady and her girlfriend came up with a number of swats that was too big to think about. Basically it meant Bridget would be spanked literally through the night. She wasn't looking forward to it but nothing could be worse than needles in the anal sphincter, or under the nails. She would take it.

The girlfriend had Bridget lay across her lap, while cop lady splayed her legs to place Bridget's face right at her pussy. "You already bruised her!" said the girlfriend once she got a look at Bridget's ass on her lap.

"No," said cop lady defensively "I swear she was perfect when I found her. They did that to her at school."

"Bridget, is that true?" asked the girlfriend. Bridget knew that the spanking she'd received earlier would have left a bruise, but said truthfully nevertheless, "Ma'am, my punishments at school severely bruised me."

The two ladies chuckled. "Carefully worded!" said the girlfriend, "but okay. Let's begin--the number of swats it takes before my Lydia cums will be doubled and administered once again to you after she cums. And go!" The black lady immediately began rapidly whipping Bridget's ass with a ruler. Bridget yelped but then dove into Lydia's pussy.

When Lydia was finished with Bridget's face, they turned her over and the black lady sat on her mouth. Lydia sat on Bridget's shins to hold down her legs, and began rapidly swatting the fronts of her thighs with the same ruler while desperately trying to make Shanice (for that was her name, as she learned) cum.

She accumulated hundreds of swats through the doubling of the number it took to accomplish these two orgasms. They were administered to her breasts by the two ladies--both with rulers--while she was cuffed by all four limbs to the ladies' bed.

Once that was over, the ladies pet Bridget's soft hair and cooed at her as she wept, then after kissing each other and her, each put her mouth on one of Bridget's nipples, and together they brought her to a fairly surprisingly ecstatic orgasm using her clit and nipples as points of pleasurable contact.

After several seconds of her orgasmic screams, they turned the screams into squeals of discomfort by taking the aforementioned rulers and beating the insides of her thighs with them.

That was round one. Very methodically, now using the divan in their room instead of the couch in the living room, they went through the entire process again, only this time not with rulers but with hairbrushes.

In this manner, Bridget was forced through cycle after cycle of spankings, first on the ass, then on the fronts of the legs, then on the breasts--then an agonized orgasm--and finally a cruel beating on the insides of her legs. After the ruler and the hairbrushes, the other side of the brushes was used--the spikes of the brush having had their ends cut off so that they were quite sharp. She ended up with a gridlike pattern of red dots all over the sensitive portions of her body. Then belts--then belt buckles. Then curtain rods, then coat hangers, and finally, electric cords.

Only then were they exhausted enough to turn in for the night. They uncuffed her and wrapped their arms around her weeping body, kissing her all over and making her cum several times.

In the morning, Lydia let Bridget borrow some of her clothes and helped her sore body out to her car to go back to school. "Don't suppose you'd want to come by again sometime?" asked Shanice with a grin as they left.

"Actually I mean, I don't know. Right now I'm in a weird headspace. Probably tomorrow I'll be like 'no way' but you guys are so good at making me cum that right now, I don't know."

"Well think about it girlie," said Shanice, and pinched Bridget's nipple hard and affectionately.

As Lydia was driving her to school, she turned in at the cop station. "Just one second, I gotta get my assignment real quick." She reached over and kissed Bridget on the shoulder, then went inside for a few minutes.

She came back outside to the car, but didn't open the driver door. Instead, she opened the passenger side. "Well, Bridget, you can't catch a break. Step out of the car please."

"What's happening?"

"Just step out of the car." Lydia had a pair of handcuffs in hand.

Bridget stepped out.

Lydia spoke into a walkie-talkie. "Need two assistants for a strip search."

"Why? What did I do?"

"Turn around, Bridget," Lydia said, grinning.

"Is this a joke?"

Lydia grabbed Bridget and spun her around, leaning her over against the hot car. She ripped open the shirt she'd loaned Bridget, whose breasts were now pressed against the burning metal. Pulling the shirt off, Lydia now cuffed Bridget's wrists together behind her back, then Bridget felt it as the two assistants who had been called for removed her shoes, shorts and underwear as well.

"Your dad contacted my AOG a minute ago. He figured out you lied about where you were I guess, and he said I can throw you in a cell for truancy today."

"No please!" said Bridget. "I'll do anything! I don't want to miss school!"

"And he told me something else, pretty girl. He said he gives permission for any person in that building today to fuck you. Any person at all. On any side of any cage--inside or out."

Lydia and the two assistant cops--both male--started invading her mouth, anal and pussy cavities with their fingers. Once the strip search was over, they took her by the elbows and marched her over to the station entrance. A cold blast of air greeted her naked, cuffed body, and she was led over to booking for her stay in jail.

She was probably going to endure dozens, perhaps hundreds of rapes today. That was bad enough. But how was she going to make up for the loss in merit points at school? And how could she make the cheerleading squad now, with her perfect attendance record marred by not just half a day, but now a whole day and a half?

Bridget sobbed at the unfairness of it all.


It had been weeks since Samantha's night with Sungli and Daddy, and she still couldn't stop thinking about it. She awoke to dreams that should have been nightmares, but somehow they made her cum. Samantha sat on the school bus, the hot vinyl seat stuck to her nearly bare legs, images of that night returning to her--the poor girl's screams as each of her fingers, her beautiful, violin-playing fingers, fingers that had so skillfully brought Samantha to orgasmic screams of her own, as each of these pretty girly fingers was violently, audibly cracked while the girl struggled mightily against Dad holding her face down onto the bed, no longer able to control herself in light of this unbearable torment.

Then, her hands thoroughly broken, they'd made her go down on each of them one more time. Dad and daughter both fucked and came into that beautiful sobbing, weeping face. When they were finished with her, they'd had her stand up, and Samantha held a knife under the girl's pussy. As the girls continued weeping, Samantha pushed the blade between the girl's pussy lips, but did not cut her. Instead, dad, from behind the girl, grasped her hips and pushed gently downwards. He did not force her down, but was preventing her escape. "It's time to end this," said Samantha gently to the crying girl.

Even through the haze of broken finger agony and the fear of impending death, Sungli managed to take on a little bit of composure. Still weeping, she inhaled a deep breath, and nodded, eyes closed.

And, slowly, she began to lower herself on the blade. Dad didn't push her, but held firm so that however low she went, she could not raise herself back up.

She squirmed and squealed and cried some more as she felt the tip of the blade beginning to poke sharply into something up there in her womb. But gathered herself, and forced herself to keep moving downward.

Samantha kissed her one final time once she'd finally lowered herself down to a level where their eyes could meet comfortably. Samantha dropped the knife and reached her bloody hand up to grasp Sungli's hair in passionate embrace, managing to soak the girl's Slut Sash in the process, as the two girls fell down into the tub together, one dying, one feeling unspeakably alive. Samantha continued kissing the poor girl long after she was gone.

Barely able to walk due to the buzzing in her groin on reliving that night, Samantha walked off the bus and went to the principle's office as she'd been ordered to through the AOG that morning. Something about some administrative business having to do with her position as class president.

As she entered the principle's office, he was finishing up fucking a student's ass.  That student happened to be the incoming head cheerleader for her class--and just happened to be Samantha's sister, Bridget. "Ah, Samantha," he said, grunting his cum into the Bridget's colon. "Come in."

Bridget pulled her skirt back on, and kind of smirked at Samantha.

"What's up?" the older sister asked the principle.

"I wanted you to know, there's to be another expulsion today."

Samantha felt an inner delight. She hadn't had a chance to expel a girl since Victoria, and her dad, loaded as he was, was unwilling to blow money every night on a Girl Slut murder.

"Okay, is the student in my class? Will I be the expulsioner?"

"The student is in your class. You will be participating. But you will not be the expulsioner."

"But I'm the class president, how... who...?"

She looked again over at Bridget, who'd just been servicing the principle. Something clicked. "Oh my God, Bridget, is it you who's getting expelled? What the fuck did you do?"

Bridget simply smiled. "Nope."

"Samantha," the principle now took a stern tone with her. "Do you really not see it already?"

"See what?" she asked innocently.

"It's you, you idiot bitch," said Bridget gleefully. "You fucked up! You're getting expelled! And I'm gonna help!"


It wasn't easy but Bridget had made it. Tryouts for the cheerleading squad had begun just a few days after she'd resolved to join it.

To tell how she did it, and to describe the whole tryout process, would more than double the size of this story. But in short, the way it went down was this.

The whole thing took twelve days.

On the first day she had to dance--both strip-tease style and cheerleader routine style--in front of an audience consisting of the present cheerleaders, the football team, the two coaches, the principle and the student council (the head of which happened to be her sister). She and about thirty other contestants went through their routines and were scored by acclaim through the AOGs. Twelve girls were selected as finalists. Those who didn't were stripped of all merit points, duly raped and sent back to class.

Showing her actual cheerleading skills was the easy part. After that, she had to spend successive nights sexually servicing and debasing herself before individual members of that voting audience, by spending nights at each of their houses. Each contestant was on a rotation so that, by the end of it, each voter would have spent a night with each contestant.

First she spent five nights on a "date" with each of five football players selected by their coach for the privilege. Though they weren't allowed to hurt her, at this point, still they could rape her all they wanted, and of course at the end of each date she was to go home with them, where they and their families were free to make whatever sexual usage they wished of her . She had to prove she could take it with a smile and show them a good time no matter how much they kept at it.

Then, in turn, nights were spent at the homes of the football coach, the head cheerleader, the cheerleading coach, the principle, and the student body vice president and the student body president--her sister.

Finally, on the big day, day twelve, all the contestants were lined up in the gym. A pole was raised above the floor horizontally, a series of leather straps attached to it. Each girl was tied at the neck to the pole using these straps.

The results were called out one by one. The head cheerleader would stand behind a girl, and after a dramatic pause, would either call out that she'd made it--whereupon the girl's collar was untied and the squad embraced her, cooperating to give her an orgasm--or else the head cheerleader would call out that the girl didn't make it. In the latter case, after a brief moan or protest or plea or shriek from the girl, the head cheerleader would tighten the collar around the girl's neck and refasten it in place, such that the girl was now doomed to slowly choke to death.

At the end it had been down to Bridget and one other girl. As was customary, the last two were both the worst and best contestant. Whoever won would be the new head cheerleader. Whoever lost would be tortured before strangulation.

They didn't make an announcement. They just began whipping the other girl, and her screams were music to Bridget's ears. She stayed up on the pole, the strap remaining wrapped around her neck while she watched ecstatically as the girl's skin was ruined with deep welts and the girl desperately, clumsily tried to avoid the blows while restrained at the neck. Finally, the head cheerleader put the girl out of her misery, and Bridget was released. Bridget was going to inherit the mantle of head cheerleader! They took over to the "throne," which was just a chair. But the next order of business was that each of the other cheerleaders, both old and new, now had to kiss her pussy passionately, with tongue. And the old head cheerleader had to eat her out til she came.

It was the best day of her life.

And now here she was, gazing at her sister, the object of her utmost hatred and lust, secured to the wall in the front lobby of the school.

Samantha was stripped completely nude, and bolted to the brick wall by restraints around her shoulders, her wrists, her knees, her ankles, her pelvis, her neck and her forehead. She was about a foot off the ground, standing on a ledge protruding out of the wall. She'd also been stripped metaphorically, having lost all her merit points. Bridget could still see the thousands of welts she'd received all over her body from the school's faculty as they'd taken those points out on her--and she hoped Samantha could still feel them, and would feel them til the end.

As students walked by, they'd casually grab, tweak, punch, or slap Samantha in any way they saw fit. They were also sending the weeping girl "offers" which she couldn't not refuse because she had zero merits. People were spending everything they safely could for a round with her in the Rape Room in the hours before her expulsion.

Bridget's own "offer" was the largest of all.

Though it was probably going a little further than this display was intended to allow, Bridget couldn't help herself. She knelt down in front of her sister, placed her teeth around one of Samantha's big toes, and bit down as hard as she could. As Samantha shrieked in pain and passing students laughed, Bridget chewed and sliced, then moved on to the other toes.


Samantha had completely fucked up. She hadn't followed instructions. Victoria--the girl she'd expelled several weeks ago--was supposed to be dispatched according to an exact script. And that script didn't include a gang-bang.

Samantha had figured if she'd been caught she'd be in trouble. But not like this.

It turned out cameras were rolling long before she'd hit the switch thinking she was turning on the video. That was a meta aspect of the snuff film she was unwittingly making--the recording wasn't for the record, it was because Victoria's death had been specially ordered, and ordered to occur in a precise way.

There was a lot of money involved for the school. A lot. Far more than Samantha could ever hope to be worth. And so the principle had decided in a desperate effort to appease the donor that Samantha's life would be forfeit.

At first he'd offered to have her killed according to the script meant for Victoria, but it seemed the donor had very specific desires for the things to happen specifically to Victoria. And had quite adamantly intended for her to be a virgin until the end.

It was this last detail that let Samantha know who the donor probably was. Virginity was very much a family affair. Almost no girl strived for it, and those who did, it was generally because their family belonged to an old religion that thought, for some reason, that girls should be virgins until marriage. Only one person, really, could have had an interest in her being a virgin.

It was Victoria's father who had arranged for her murder and to have it recorded. And Samantha had screwed it up. And now here she was, being bought out piece by piece.

And now here was Samantha, bound to a table in the Rape Room, a girl who had almost never been placed in this room before, despite everyone at the school so eagerly wishing to be able to get her in there for a raping. After her years of success at staving off almost every offer sent her way, she now had an "appointment" with practically every student at the school, each eager to take a turn at torturing her and forcing her to make them cum.

All of this to be followed by a brutal public expulsion--the end of her life.

She had no self-control left. As the Rape Room attendant pushed the button allowing for the first appointment to enter, Samantha simply wept openly and begged whoever her first rapist was to be, "Nooooo pleeeeeease." But of course that just made Eric's dick harder.


In the Rape Room, students scheduled for a raping were restrained to a framework secured to the floor in the center of the room. The framework consisted in two vertical metal poles joined together at the center by a crossbar. In the center of the crossbar was a section consisting of a wide circular clamp, such that the victim's torso was secured inside the clamp, his or her ass and genital regions fully exposed below. Meanwhile the victims knees, ankles, elbows and wrists were tightly secured to the vertical metal poles on either side, and another crossbar near the top contained a similar clamp for the victim's forehead. Everything was adjustable to the victim's size. And the whole thing was able to rotate on the axis of the central crossbar.

The effect of all this was that the victim was suspended in the air, arms and legs spread open, the entire body available to any kind of fucking or beating anyone might care to subject them to, and through the rotation, the victim was able to be placed at any angle, for maximizing the pain of the beatings and the rapist's pleasure in fucking the student being punished.

Samantha spent eight hours on the framework that day. The longest she'd ever been on it before was seven minutes.

After eight unbearable hours, having fallen unconscious and been awakened multiple times by the attendant through the whippings and fuckings of every part of her body by practically every student at the school, Samantha knew it was time to go.

But one last rapist entered the room. Samantha found energy to whimper as she looked up through cum-stung eyes to see her sister, in her cheerleading getup, smirking.

Samantha said nothing as Bridget approached. When Bridget softly caressed Samantha's face and kissed some of the cum off of her breast and brought it up to her mouth, Samantha knew enough to realize this was probably prelude to some horrific cruelty or other.

Bridget asked quietly, sweetly, "Did anybody take time to make you cum through all this?"

Samantha shook her head.

"Good," said Bridget. "I wanted to be your first and last today." And with that, Bridget spun Samantha to an upside-down position and bent over to begin licking Samantha's pussy. And her asshole.

Eight hours of unconscionable torture, an entire schoolday of being helplessly raped and beaten, and her sister expected her to be able to cum?

Incredibly, Samantha began to feel the tingle. She moaned involuntarily, even now being aggravated at herself for giving her sister that power at a time like this. But finally, knowing she had less than an hour to enjoy life, she let herself go, and to the extent possible, began pumping her pelvis back and forth in pleasure.

Her sister expertly stimulated her in each sensitive region--her tongue on Samantha's pussy and asshole, her fingers on Samantha's incredibly sore yet still receptive nipples.

Samantha was so close to cumming now. And Bridget stopped.

Samantha moaned louder now than she had been while getting eaten out. Bridget knelt down to Samantha's face and kissed her again, smiling sweetly at her--but not continuing to eat her pussy.

Instead, Bridget reached for the shears.

"I got special permission," said Bridget. "Because I'm your sister. You're special to me. There are things I've wanted to do to you for so long, and this is my last chance, so..."

That was when Samantha lost her clitoris.

When she came too, Bridget was holding the attendant's pot of hot water--supposed to be for making coffee--right over Samantha's crotch. Samantha screamed in a panic as Bridget cried "Let's cauterize the wound or something?" and began pouring the boiling hot water over Samantha's vagina.

Samantha finally fell unconscious once again, and deeply regretted waking up as the moment she opened her eyes she lost her nipples to the shears.

Bridget didn't even bother to rape Samantha. She'd gotten what she came for. She had a pep rally to go to--the pep rally at which her sister would be expelled.


Samantha spent most of the pep rally standing off to the side, on a stool, her hands tied behind her back, the noose around her neck, bleeding from the clit, nipples, and various welts on her body. She watched the rally and the audience in silence.

Her dad was out there, videoing the proceedings. He was focusing on Bridget's performance, of course, a proud father. Every now and then he'd pan over to Samantha, and she could see him zooming in, scanning up and down, then wandering off back to the cheerleaders.

Finally after much cheering and screaming, the rally was nearing an end, and Samantha became the focus of events. Her expulsion was going to be the sendoff for the team. It was a really important game. Samantha felt, amidst the despair and agony and shame, a kind of pride.

As she was prepared for expulsion, she saw her dad whisper to the woman next to him. At hearing him, she gave him a friendly smile and nodded, then gestured to her daughter sitting on her other side. The daughter rolled her eyes, but put on a smile, lifted her shirt over her breasts, knelt in front of Samantha's dad and pulled his dick out of his pants. With one hand he kept filming the rally, and with the other he alternated between tweaking the girl's nipples and grasping her hair. Beside him, the girl's mother slipped her underwear off under her skirt and whispered in the girl's ear. Mom was next.

And the expulsion began. The football team and cheerleaders paired off, male and female, each pair in turn taking a position on either side of Samantha, each holding a whip. One would whip her backside, the other her frontside. And through the beating, her role was simply to teeter and writhe in pain, trying her best to keep her balance on the stool.

She lasted through several screaming, begging, pleading rounds. But she couldn't last forever.

When the head cheerleader--her sister--landed a blow with a knotted whip right between her legs, Samantha jumped a little, and slipped on blood or sweat on the stool, and that was it. She accidentally kicked it out from under herself, and the slow choke began.

The team continued beating her as she gasped for breath, and agony, together with her father and sister's grins, was the last thing she would ever know.


Just two weeks later or so, Bridget was cheering at a playoff game when her team unexpectedly lost. This would not normally be a problem for her. Sure, it was true that when a team lost a playoff game, it was the general tradition for that team to send over a cheerleader to the other team for their unlimited use. Of course, almost no cheerleader ever returned from this. But Bridget didn't need to be worried--she was the head cheerleader, the newest cheerleader, and to the mind of many, the most attractive cheerleader. Her team would never agree to send her away.

As the two teams were conferring--the other team deciding together how to rank how badly they wanted each cheerleader on her team, and her team deciding together how to rank how much they wanted to keep each cheerleader, Bridget saw something surprising. Lydia--the cop who Bridget had spent the night with a while ago--was walking down to her team's side from the stands! She approached Bridget's team, and started flirting with the boys there.

Had Lydia seen Bridget cheering? Was she here to invite Bridget over for another agonizing night of sexual ecstacy? (Bridget would accept of course.) Was she talking to the boys to make sure they didn't give Bridget away?

Then on the other side, Bridget saw Shanice talking to the other team with a smile. And when the boys on the team seemed to make a decision, nodding their heads in unison, Shanice grinned much wider, looked directly at Bridget, smiled and winked--then knelt down to give one of the boys a blowjob.

Turning back toward Lydia, Bridget saw that she, too, was going down on the boys from that team.

And it was time to make the announcement. Both teams had ranked every girl on the team. Each girl would be assigned a score. She started with a number of points equal to her ranking as assigned by her own team--if they ranked her tenth most desirable out of ten, she got ten points to start with. Ninth out of ten, she got nine points to start with, and so on.

Then from each girl's score was subtracted a number of points corresponding to the other team's ranking. So whichever girl the other team saw as most desirable, that girl had ten points subtracted from her score. Second most desirable had nine subtracted and so on.

The girls who ended up with the lowest score was sacrificed to the other team.

There were usually a few rounds of this as various girls tied, until finally in a round all the girls tied. In that case one of the girls was randomly selected to be sacrificed. But as it turned out only one round was needed this time. Her team ranked a girl with a one--with the lowest score possible, and it happened that the other team ranked that same girl as a ten--the highest possible score from their point of view. So that girl got a negative nine score, the lowest possible score and one it was impossible for anyone else to tie.

That girl, on seeing what had happened, completely lost her shit. She screamed in a completely undignified manner, collapsed to the ground, and wept. She had to be dragged off by the other team, completely unable to assist in her own capture. They took her back to the locker rooms--this was their stadium--and the girl saw Shanice nearby as she was dragged past. Shanice, her mouth around another boy's dick, grinned at her.

The girl was Bridget of course.

As the boys dragged her into the locker room, she finally was able to form coherent words. "Didn't Shanice tell you not to pick me?" she whimpered.

"Shanice? Oh you mean the principal? No, she told us to pick you. Not often you get a blowjob from the principal, and we probably would have picked you anyway!"

The boys high fived.

Bridget looked around the room. Just a locker room, much like the one she used as a cheerleader. But in the center of it was a metal post, and attached to the post by a chain around the neck was a nude girl. The girl was incredibly skinny, and seemed too weak to move much. But upon seeing Bridget being pulled into the locker room, the girl began sobbing uncontrollably.

Two of the football players held Bridget on one side of the room while a few of the others went over to the emaciated girl. Bridget heard them chattering as they took her chain off the post. “Jeffs uphe was the mvp this game.” The boy who apparently was Jeff laughed and said “Dont mind if I fucking do.” The boys dragged the emaciated girl over to one of the toilets on one side of the room. Jeff stripped down while the girl cried and weakly begged to no avail. The boys then placed the girl on her knees facing the toilet, and Jeff stood behind her, crouching with his dick at her ass.

Then the boys, laughing “nice knowing you Amber!” pushed her head down til it was underwater.

The girl thrashed with greater might than Bridget would have thought possible given her weak movements just a moment prior, but her head was held firm under the water as Jeff entered her asshole.

His ecstatic grunts increased in volume as her thrashing turned to mere occasional spasms. After she was finally, permanently, stilled, he moaned and thrust several times and finally came inside her bowels.

He stayed inside her, panting, leaning with his weight on her while the boys continued holding her head underwater for a minute, making sure she was well and truly finished. Meanwhile, the two boys who had been holding Bridget in place moved her over to the post. The chain was removed from Ambers neck, and placed around Bridgets, and secured back to the post. Bridgets hands were cuffed behind her back, and she was trapped. She knew what her fate would be the next time the team won a game. Thinking about this was what kept her weeping as the boys now took turns raping her.

Once they were done with her, they picked up Amber, and dragged her out of the room, saying something about leaving her for the custodial staff, and Bridget was left to silently whimper and loudly scream, as the mood struck her. After a while, though, the door creaked open again ad in came two ladies--Lydia and Shanice. "Hey Bridge," they said together and laughed.

She struggled and grunted, trying to beg them to free her. "Let me go!" she cried, but they just bent down and stroked her tear-stained cheeks, kissing her face.

"Oh you poor thing!" Lydia cooed as Shanice walked around behind to admire Bridget's exposed ass. "You know this is it. You lost the game, and got sacrificed fair and square."

"You bribed them!"

"Nothing against the rules in that," said Shanice from behind her, who then began rubbing Bridget's pussy.

Lydia sat cross legged in front of Bridget, like a teacher with her student. "You'll get water, but they don't feed you guys down here. I mean, you get cum to eat of course. A cup or two a day, I guess, which is not really enough to keep you alive but it keeps you going for a while. And um, we dont win much to be honest. That last girl was down here for a couple of months at least. No more walking for you. Just getting your holes fucked til you die."

"Why did you do this to meeeeee?" Bridget whined. "I thought I was good!"

"Oh you were wonderful," said Lydia. "We loved to watch you in pain. That's why we'll be coming down here every now and then. We couldn't just kidnap you, where would we keep you? But this'll work. You thought you got some spankings at our house that day? You haven't felt anything yet. You know there's no rules in here, right?"

Shanice's bullwhip, which Bridget hadn't even known she had, ripped into the skin of the back of Bridget's leg. She screamed uncontrollably.

Shanice continued ripping Bridget's legs and ass to shreds while Lydia rubbed herself off. When she'd finally cum, Shanice stopped, and the two ladies sat on either side of Bridget, stroking her as if to comfort her.

"There's that other kink we've got, too," said Shanice. And she leaned in.

Lydia leaned in as well. Their mouths were on Bridget's ribcage, right where it gave way to her upper back. Lydia moaned through a smile, "We bite."

And they bit. First her back. Then they pushed her onto her back and gnawed her breasts, each rubbing herself as she did so. They didn't stop chewing on her beautiful skin til they'd cum multiple times each, laughing in between at her screams.

Just as they were finishing up, the boys started to come back to the locker room now that the post game events were over. "Aw, Principal Simmons you got her all bloody!"

Bridget sniffled and whimpered.

"I also just gave each of you boys a blowjob, something that will probably never happen again, so be happy with what you've got? Just fuck the girl and enjoy it!"

"Yeah yeah," the boy returned, sullenly putting his erect cock into the doomed girl's face. As the other boys took positions in line behind her, Shanice and Lydia took each other's hands and left, with a cheerful "See you later Bridge!"


Bridge and Samantha's dad sometimes wistfully missed fucking his daughters, but since their deaths (well, who knows what was really happening to Bridget in that team's locker room, but he assumed she was either dead or would be before he ever saw her again) he'd started a relationship with the lady who'd kindly allowed him the use of her daughter at the pep rally. So he had that step-daughter relationship going for him. That'd tide him over, at least, until he could get another pair of daughters grown down at the gene lab. He could wait.

The end.

Review This Story || Author: Onvisy
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