A new song started. A slow song.

Peter pulled her close, into his chest; instinctively, she draped her bare armsover his shoulders and they began to dance, slowly revolving around the dancefloor. As they danced, Stacy began to experience the now-familiar feeling ofdisassociation as the room started to spin. She closed her eyes and held on toPeter’s shoulders, trying to fight off the dizziness. The music and other noisein the room seemed to recede into the background. The drug! They had druggedher; Gary must have arranged this.

Panicked, Stacy tried to disentangle herself, but she was unable to do so. Herlimbs failed to respond properly, and it was all she could do to hold onto herdance partner in order to keep herself from sinking to the floor. Around andaround they went, each revolution sending Stacy’s perception spinning, untilall she was aware of in the room was Peter. There was nothing else; just a blurof sound and a solid object she could hang onto.

She felt the warm tingling begin in her groin.

"Stacy…"

A voice! Her eyes opened and struggled to focus on the face in front of her.Peter? Everything else was a blur.

"Do you remember going out with me in high school?"

Remember? Of course she remembered. Stacy nodded in the affirmative, stilltrying to focus. Why was he asking? The tingle in her groin grew stronger.

"We went on nine dates," Peter murmured to her. "Nine dates…"

Stacy felt one of his hands leave her shoulder, slide down the back of herdress and latch onto her ass. She felt that she should make some objection,but…

"And all I got was one kiss," the voice continued. "One kiss…"

The blonde teenager tried to focus on what Peter was saying, but the hand onher butt was making concentration difficult. She felt the hand pull away…

"One kiss…"

…and begin pulling the zipper of her dress down her back. She tried towriggle free, but her arms remained wrapped around Peter’s shoulders.

"I don’t think that’s fair. Do you?"

"N-no." Stacy discovered that she could speak, although even her own voiceseemed distant to her. The zipper was now all the way down, and she could feelthe cool air of the room on the small of her back. The feelings of arousalincreased, spreading up from her crotch into her belly. Involuntarily, sheground her lower body against Peter as the dance continued.

"So," Peter continued, "we’re going to work through those dates now. All nineof them. As they should have been."

Stacy tried to shake her head, no. Not here; she wanted him to take her to abedroom or something… do what he wanted there, but not here. Not in frontof…

"First date," he whispered, his tongue licking out at her hear. "A kiss wouldbe nice."

Retreating from her ear, he brought his lips down against hers. She moanedsoftly, parting her lips, but he quickly pulled away. That felt so good, butnot here. Please, not here.

"Second date," he continued. One of the straps of the dress slid off ashoulder. She tried to shrug it back on, but it just slipped further down herarm.

"Maybe some tongue."

This time, he thrust his tongue into her willing mouth. She kissed back, unableto do anything else as a wave of lust surged through her body. Oh god…

The kiss broke, but the dance continued.

The dance continued through the "third date", where he copped a feel of herbreasts through the fabric of her dress. Her nipples hardened immediately whenhe ran his fingers over them.

On the "fourth date", he removed her bra, unclipping it from behind her backand sliding it off. By now, her dress had slid down off the other shoulder,uncovering her back all the way down to the top of her ass and leaving herbreasts partly exposed…

More of the same on the "fifth date". Some heavy necking while mauling at hernow almost-naked breasts. By now, Stacy was panting with lust, all thought ofwhere she was and who she was with having fled her mind. All that matteredwas…

The dance. She missed what he said on the "sixth date", but by the end of the"seventh", she was grinding her crotch against him with abandon…

"Eight date," he panted, hoarse. "It’s time you felt my cock."

She didn’t need to be told twice. Groaning with lust, she disentangled one armfrom around his neck and reached down to his crotch. With an ease born of muchpractice, she pulled down the zipper and slide his cock free of his pants. Itwas already damp and rigid…

"Ninth date," he gasped. "You need to be fucked." He looked at her. "Beg forit."

"Please fuck me," she moaned. "I need to be fucked. Please put your lovely cockinto me, Peter. Fill me up. Please…"

Peter could take no more. He had been dreaming of this moment for over twoyears. With a cry, he shoved her back against the wall, pulled one of her legsup, and shoved his cock straight into her dripping pussy. The dress, bunched upat the waist to allow him access to her pussy, fell forward, abandoning anypretence of covering her breasts.

Stacy didn’t care.

Holding onto his shoulders, she wrapped both legs around Peter’s ass and fuckedhim right back as he drove her again and again against the wall. She drooledand slobbered and squirmed out her lust, all the time moaning and crying forhim to fuck her harder.

He obliged…

The last trembling vestige of orgasm rippled though her beaten body. Groggy,she looked up from the floor where she sat, propped against the wall. Just asshe did so, a flash went off… and then another.

Dazed, the blonde teenager looked around. She was lying, practically naked,against the wall, her green dress a shapeless mess around her waist. A group ofpeople - the guests at the party - were standing around, looking down on herand laughing. A few of them had cameras and were using them. She heard the word"slut" and "whore" coming up in conversation.

Were they talking about her?

Just as had happened before, the orgasm seemed to have burned away the effectsof the drugs, leaving Stacy clear-headed and sober. Sobbing with embarrassment,she stumbled to her feet, breasts bobbing merrily, clutching her dress aroundher as the crowd laughed.

Another flash went off.

The dress didn’t seem torn, and she quickly had it back over her tits, but shewas unable to zip it up on her own. Eyes downward, she pushed her way throughthe crowd, looking for…

"Peter!"

He was standing with a couple of guys near the entrance to the kitchen,drinking a beer. "What… what are you…"

He looked over at her and smirked. "I’d heard that you had become quite a slutsince my days at Greenwood. I just wanted to see if it was true."

Stacy stopped talking and began to cry. Yet another flash went off.

"Stop it," she cried, spinning around to strike out at whoever was taking thepicture. The blow missed, however, and she succeeded only in letting the frontof her dress flop forward again. Two pictures were taken of her re-exposedbreasts before she was able to cover up.

Furious, she turned back to Peter. "Take me home," she ordered. "Now."

Peter just laughed. "Are you kidding? Get home yourself, you slut." He reachedinto his pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. "Take this," he said, handingit to her. "There’s a bus depot just down the block. There are buses toBakersville every couple of hours."

Stunned, she held the ten dollar bill in her hand, staring at him. Eventually,she turned and stumbled through the laughing crowd to the door, still holdingher unzipped dress around her.

"And Stacy," Peter called out from behind her.

She turned; maybe he was going to give her a ride after all.

"You were worth every penny."

The crowd roared with laughter as Stacy, tears running down her face, ran outinto the cool night air…