Stacy recognized the house.

She had been there once before; the night of the "party" she had attended. Theparty with the guys from BCN. She blushed furiously as she remembered what shecould of the events of that night; the sight of the house brought them floodingback over her in a wave of shame. Stacy looked at Ashley sitting beside her inthe back seat of Sharon’s car. Ashley glared back at her. Ever since what hadhappened last January - when Stacy had done her part to render Ashleyvulnerable to the blackmail - Ashley had refused to have anything to do withStacy. Stacy didn’t blame her. She just wanted the girl to drink the alcohol;to prepare herself.

She didn’t know yet. She didn’t know what was going to happen inside the house.Perhaps that was why she was so reluctant to drink when Sharon had handed themthe thermos. This time, it contained some sort of wine cooler. Stacy had suckedhungrily at the alcohol. She had a pretty good idea of what would be expectedof them that night, and knew that she would need all the help she could getfrom Gary’s drugs. Ashley, not really understanding what was going on, took acouple of sips when Stacy handed it over, but had to be ordered by Sharonbefore she would drink any more. Karen was also in the car - in the front seatbeside Sharon - but she was strangely quiet. She just sat there in silence,staring straight ahead out the front window.

"OK," Sharon ordered brightly, "let’s go."

She opened her door and slid out of the car. Stacy and Ashley followed suit,but Karen remained where she was. Sharon bent down and looked at her.

"You sure you don’t want to come in?" she asked. "It’ll be fun." Karen shookher head and looked away.

Sharon just shrugged her shoulders and closed the door. Gesturing at the twoother girls to follow her, she began walking up towards the house.

The large living room had clearly been specially arranged for the party. Mostof the furniture had been moved out, leaving only a big, yellow couch in thecentre of the space. Instead of the tables, chairs and other bits of furniturethat had been there a few months ago, the boys had laid out a bunch of baremattresses. The BCN Barracudas had just finished up a winning season, and theguys were ready to party. They were crowded around the big couch - all fourteenof them - beers in hand, waiting for the big entrance. Sharon smirked at themas she stood by the door. Perfect. Time to get the show on the road.

"Gentlemen," she cried out theatrically over the catcalls and hooting, "I giveyou your entertainment for the evening. May I present…" She swung open thedoor. "Cumslut, who some of you know from before…"

Stacy - Cumslut - entered the room. She was wearing a short black miniskirt andbright pink tank top. A pair of black stockings ran from just below the hem ofthe skirt down to her feet, which had been forced into bright red, four inchpumps. She was having some trouble walking in them, but Sharon had insisted. Infact, Sharon had fastened shut the ankle strap with a small lock; Stacy wouldbe wearing the pumps until Sharon chose to unlock them. Her hair was combedout, flowing down over her bare shoulders in a blonde wave, and her face wasmade up in the same overdone, sluttish manner it had been done the first timeshe had been here. She tried to force a smile and look sexy as she entered theroom, following Sharon’s instructions, but it wasn’t easy. Thankfully, the drugwas starting to have its customary affect on her, and she began to feel thefamiliar, welcome tingle in her crotch.

"…and Melons."

Ashley - Melons - followed close behind, wearing even less than Stacy. All shehad on was a red garter belt, which held up a set of black, fishnet stockings.Her outfit was completed by a pair of pink lace panties and a black, pushupbra. Her breasts, always her most prominent feature, jutted out magnificently,the nipples clearly visible over the top of the bra. Like Stacy, she also worea pair of four inch pumps, locked onto her feet by the ankle strap. Ashley alsotried to smile and look sexy, but was unable to manage anything other than afrightened grimace. She was feeling nothing from the alcohol they had beengiven to drink. There was no comfortable disassociation or warm tingling in herpussy.

Just fear.

With a cheer of approval, the members of the BCN Barracudas surged forward tobegin their party.

It had been a good season for Terry Brooks. A freshman at BCN, he had quicklyfound both a place on the first string of the Barracudas and acceptance at thealmost all-white school. Terry, a tall wiry black boy from Oregon, had beenexpecting things to be difficult at BCN, but that hadn’t proved to be the case.Everything had come together nicely. First, a place on the team; then a winningseason with him as the star receiver; and now this: prime white teenage pussy.The kind of thing he could only dream of at home. God, he loved California!Utilizing the speed which had made him a star on the football field, he was thefirst to reach Cumslut, the short blonde one. He liked them blonde; young,blonde and horny.

Like this one.

He threw his arm around her and crushed his lips to hers. She responded almostimmediately, her tongue welcoming his into the wet confines of her mouth. Whilethey kissed, he slipped his other hand down, under the miniskirt and up intoher crotch. She wasn’t wearing any panties. He slid his finger into her pussy;it was already wet. She moaned into his mouth as they kissed.

What a slut!

Unable to hold himself back, Terry pushed her down backwards onto a mattressand climbed aboard. She fell back, legs spread invitingly. He fumbled at hiszipper until his cock hung free. It was hard and ready for action. Cumslutgasped as he fell onto her and jammed it into all the way into her cunt withone powerful surge of his hips.

Almost immediately, she began to pump against him, trying to suck it in evenfurther.

Stacy felt the orgasm hit just as the black guy came. The feel of his warmsperm boiling out into her pussy sent her over the edge into a rising wave ofpleasure that overwhelmed all other considerations. All thoughts of shame,humiliation or pain were washed away in the screaming, writhing, crushing surgeof ecstasy which slammed through her beautiful body. Gasping and writhing,Stacy screamed her pleasure until she crested the top and began to settle backdown.

The black guy, a strange look on his face, pulled out of her and pushed himselfto his feet.

"Fucking hell," he called over his shoulder as he backed away, "she’s a hotbitch."

In the back of her mind, Stacy realized she should be feeling something atthis, but couldn’t remember what it was. All she knew right now was that sheneeded some more cock. Now! The guys were more than obliging. Almostimmediately, she was dragged onto her hands and knees, and a cock stuck intoher sopping pussy. She ground her tight ass back to meet the impaling thrustsof the guy fucking her.

Another cock appeared in front of her face. Instinctively, she grabbed at itand began sucking…

Sharon laughed as she watched Stacy writhe on the floor under the black guy.She was observing the event through the viewfinder of her father’s camcorder.The guys at BCN had been a little hesitant at her filming their party, but whenshe offered them the girls at half price, they had quickly agreed. As well,Sharon had assured them that the video was only for personal use. And, ofcourse, she had promised them a copy.

She continued to film as Stacy’s moans and cries got louder and morepassionate. Finally, Stacy writhed and screamed her way through the biggestorgasm Sharon had ever seen; all captured for posterity…

Ashley turned and tried to run as the guys from the football team surgedtowards her, but she was unable to move effectively in the high-heels. Shestumbled against a wall, and was quickly caught. The football player whograbbed her was obviously a lineman of some sort; he was well over six feettall and must have weighed close to 300 pounds. He spun her around to face himand began to paw at her tits as they jutted invitingly over the skimpy pushupbra.