Debbie cheered her young heart out for the team. She leaped and did aerial splits and screamed encouragements until she was hoarse. And still the team was losing. She had come onto the field feeling self conscious with the skimpy costume on. As she cheered as the game wore on, she had forgotten all about the tiny g-string moving sensuously along her snatch, all about the thin vest rubbing against her nipples and hardening them. All that mattered was cheering the team on to a victory.
"Go, team go!" she cried.
She landed, did a split and then rolled up to wave her fluffy pom poms in the air.
"Good, good," said Bradford. "You're doing a fine job. But we need more out of you," he said, coming up behind her.
She was proud of herself. She didn't flinch away when he put his hands around her waist. After all, they were in the middle of a televised game. The entire scene might be broadcast coast to coast. She didn't want to do anything that might lose her the spotlight. Turning around and hitting the general manager of the team wasn't the kind of thing she wanted going out on nationwide television.
"More?" she asked numbly. "I'm doing the best I can. All of us are."
"Yeah, and you're here on the sidelines. We need to really inspire those men out there. There getting their heads bashed in. The other team's stronger and bigger. They need an edge. They need something to win for."
"I'll do my best," Debbie said. Her voice was almost gone now. She swallowed hard and looked at Bradford the man grinned an evil grin as he turned to walk away.
"I know you will. We're going to make this field goal. Wait and see."
She watched as the team pushed down into field goal territory. It would be a forty yard attempt. Not impossible, but their field goal kicker's longest had been only thirty-three yards. It would take a hell of a pep talk to get him enthused and ready to break a personal record.
Debbie saw Bradford talking to the man. They pointed in her direction. She had no idea what they were saying. She guessed that Bradford was hyping the guy up and that she was supposed to give him a private little cheer of encouragement. She smiled a winning smile and danced around a bit before launching herself into the air, legs spread far apart. She thought she would pull herself apart all the way to the chin, but she didn't. The landing hurt her aches, but it seemed to be well received by the kicker.
He gave her a thumb's up sign and raced onto the field. She watched in hushed silence as the snap came, the kicker turned and glanced in her direction for a split second, then stepped forward, and his leg swinging hard the football missed the outstretched finger of a blocker by inches and soared through the uprights, forty yards away. The team had taken a one point lead.
She joined all the others in a wild, ear splitting scream of encouragement. Debbie brushed a strand of damp blonde hair from her eyes and adjusted the tiny vest. She was acutely aware that the firm bulges of her tits threatened to spill out of the jacket at any instant. But whoever had designed it had made sure such a thing was only threatened it never happened quite.
Rubbing damp hands on her naked thighs, she self-consciously adjusted the g-string. Getting used to being more naked than dressed in public view was something that would take a while to be comfortable with.
"Hey, Debbie, come over here!" shouted Bradford, standing beside the man who had just made the field goal.
Debbie thought Bradford wanted her to personally congratulate the man. She was willing. She didn't know much about the game of football, but she had found herself getting surprisingly worked up over whether or not the team won. She trotted over, and the kicker eyed the jiggle and bounce of her jugs with obvious approval. She felt a little embarrassed at the way he leered, but that was his right. She knew she was an attractive chick. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gotten the job in the first place.
"Hi," she said brightly. "That was a great kick. You put us ahead."
"I had a hell of a lot of incentive," the man said.
"Oh?" She felt a little uneasy at that. Both the kicker and Bradford were staring at her in a way she couldn't quite put into words. They obviously expected more from her. But how much more?
"Yeah, you know," said the player. "Like Mr. Bradford here said."
He obviously expected a lot more. And the girl was beginning to get the glimmerings of what that "incentive" promised by Bradford had been. "And exactly what was it Mr. Bradford said?" she demanded. "Did he promise you something he couldn't deliver?"
"No, I didn't," Bradford said hastily. "And you just go along with him, if you don't, you can just walk right on out of the stadium. You're no virgin. And he deserves it."
"It, Mr. Bradford? Exactly what is this 'it' you're talking about?" She threw down her pom poms and stood her hands on her flaring hips. With her legs spread just a little, she was perfectly silhouetted against the bright lights of the stadium. The player licked his lips and began fumbling at the front of his pants. The girl stood as if she were rooted to the spot. She couldn't believe that he actually expected her to fuck in plain view of everyone in the stadium. Yet, from the way he fumbled around getting his cup out of the way so that his prick would swing free told her the entire story. He did expect her to fuck. Then! There! What horrified Debbie most was the knowledge that Bradford had promised her to this man if he did well. He kicked the field goal and she was going to be his. It was that simple.
She was no longer a woman, a living, breathing woman. She had turned into a piece of property to be used as Bradford decided. He could award her to any of the team members whenever he wanted. She had become no more than chattel property a slave. But she wasn't going to protest. She was too stricken to even speak.
"See, Debbie, that guy is hung. He'll give you one hell of a fine fuck. And I know what that tight little pussy of yours is like," Bradford said, more for the player's benefit than anything else. He had never fucked her cunt. He had only raped her up the ass.
"Get her over here, Mr. Bradford. Unless you want me to ball her in plain view of that Goddamn camera crew."
The player sat on the end of the bench. He was surrounded by a half dozen other players, all intent on watching the progress of the game. Debbie stood rigid and frightened, her eyes fastened firmly to the man's cock. It jutted up and out of his padded pants, red and ugly and impossibly long. She licked her lips and shook her head, a cascade of bright blonde hair circling her shoulders. She hoped this would clear her head. This had to be a dream, a nightmare!
"Dammit, get over there. Sit on his lap and let him fuck you. He did good and now he should be rewarded. You're supposed to get the team worked up to the point where they win. So give him what's his!"
Bradford's voice pushed the girl over the edge. It shocked her back into awareness. She started to back off. She shook her head and blurted out, "God, no! Not this! Not in public! There are fifty thousand people watching! This is sick!"
Bradford slapped her. She felt the sharp sting of his fingers against her check. Tears flowed from the corners of her eyes. Concentrating on the pain helped her to fight off the numbness that fell over her like a soft, cottony blanket.
"No!"
He slapped her again. And this time, he moved up behind her to prevent her from turning and running toward the locker room. All the while the man moved into position behind her, Debbie found herself unable to look away from the jutting hard-on sprouting from the player's crotch. His bell shaped glans throbbed with virile lust. The entire cock pulsed with excited blood, blood pumping harder and harder into his already steely erection. Under ordinary circumstances, Debbie might have been tempted maybe. But not like this. Not in public and definitely not at the order of the general manager. He didn't own her. He had raped her anally and she had allowed that because of the possible exposure she might get. Modeling jobs. Television series, even starring in movies. All those could be hers and she knew it. But to put up with Bradford and this humiliation! It wasn't worth all the fame and fortune in the world! But she had hesitated too long. He held her firmly in place, she could no longer run. His fingers ran under the thin string of her g-string, tugging at it, pulling it down. She felt the cool air gusting across the playing field seek put the humid crease between her legs. She hadn't realized when she was getting hot and horny just thinking, about fucking in public.
"No, I refuse," she said, straining in the circle of the man's arms.
The harder she fought, the more she realized she couldn't escape. These men would be able to do anything they wanted to her. She was helpless! Bradford pushed her closer to the man seated on the end of the bench. Others on the team turned when she began to protest. A couple of them smiled at her predicament. Debbie went cold all over. She realized that this wasn't the first, time this had happened. It was simply that she was the one chosen as the carrot. To be given to the faithful mule for long and useful service. These men used sex as a reward like other businesses used money bonuses.
"Get down on your knees and suck his prick for a while. I think he would like that."
Bradford towered over her she couldn't possibly elude him. And the worst part of the entire degrading scene was the way she felt. She was turned on!
The girl hated herself more and more for that. She tried to tell herself that he was forcing her to do this. He would punish her severely if she didn't do exactly as he ordered. His command was her only concern. She wasn't responsible for anything that happened. Yet she was. She could run. She could scream for help. She could attract all sorts of attention. After all, fifty thousand fans were in the stadium. One of those fans would surely come to her aid if she cried rape loud enough.
But Debbie couldn't do it. She rationalized. She convinced herself that she had no alternative. She didn't want to hurt the team's image. This could destroy everything a lot of devoted men had worked for all season long. To let one evil manager's whim wreck all that was unthinkable. She felt some obligation to the team.
She sucked. The throbbing prick shot up between her ruby lips as his hips came up and off the bench. He gasped as her soft lips clamped firmly on the very tip of his cock. She licked around the hooded edge of his glans and then traced out each and every contour. The man could hardly keep his seat on the bench.
She felt a surge of power over him. They had forced her to do this but who was really in charge? She was! She was the one making him moan in stark lust for her body. She called all the shots. And if she could make him get his rocks off fast, she would show Bradford just what a hot chick she really was. He couldn't possibly say anything to her if his prize stud got off fast. She sucked harder. Her tongue danced all over the man's cock, lightly touching the quivering sides of the shaft and moving downward until she came to the hairy sac containing his balls. Her tongue batted the trapped balls inside the scrotum until the man was crying out almost as loud as the cheerleaders still going through their routine.
The girl felt another surge of carnal power. The g-string rubbed up against her snatch and dipped into the crack of her ass. The nearness, the softness, the motion of cloth against naked, aroused flesh, made her hornier than hell.
This added to her sucking. She wanted to give him the best head she could. The blonde cheerleader was going to show them that she could do all they wanted and make them all feel small. She'd show them!
And then Bradford moved in closer. She felt him grab her hands and pull them behind her back. She abandoned her post at the man's cock and tried to turn to face Bradford. The general manager had her hands firmly secured with a short length of string. The thin thread cut into her wrists and threatened to cut off all the circulation.
"Why are you doing this?" she demanded. "I… I'll suck him off, but don't do anything else to me!"
Her frightened eyes flashed across the sea of strange faces just feet away from where they crouched. All those people watching her humiliation! She tried to move but Bradford shoved her roughly. She stumbled and fell into the man's lap. A hard, round pillar of cock pressed firmly between her thighs and nudged into the thin fabric of her g-string.
Her cunt began to water at the nearness of the man's prick. She tried to stop it. The harder she thought about stopping her frothy flood of juice, the worse it became. The arousal was too intense for her to simply deny. She hated being humiliated and degraded like this. Or did she? Hadn't she virtually asked for this all night long? She had played with Bradford and now he was getting even with her. He was simply giving her to a player to fuck. That was it, so simple. She felt the man's fingers fumbling at the thin string, and then her cunt was naked and exposed. Trying to close her legs did no good. The man was too powerful. After all, he was a football player; he tossed around men weighing two hundred pounds. He may have been only a kicker, but he was strong too strong for her to evade.
His cock raced along the fluid gash of her snatch. He missed her cunt hole on his first stroke. She shuddered under the bludgeoning impact of that thrust. She shook and tried to stand. His hands held her firmly in place.
"Stop, please! Stop! Not in public. My hands! They're tied. You can't do this to me. Not here, not now!"
"Do it," came the cold command from Bradford. The man stood back a few paces and watched as his player began to seek out the tight little hole of her cunt. Debbie had never been more frightened in her life. This couldn't possibly be happening to her. This couldn't happen to anyone. Fucked in plain sight of all those people, tied and unable to do anything about it!
She screamed as the huge prong of the man's cock blasted into her tiny little pussy. She thought he was ripping her apart all the way to the chin. Their position made the head of his cock seem to hang up for a moment just inside the pinkly scalloped ridges of her cunt lips. He shifted her around a little and then his cock surged to the hilt up her pussy.
He began twisting her from side to side. She strained and tried to get her hands free. The only thing that did was bruise her flesh. The tiny thread bound her too tightly and the man was far too strong for her. What was worst of all was that the feel of his prick spreading apart her inner membranes robbed her of all strength. If she had stood, she would have collapsed to her knees. The feeling was rumbling throughout her body, and it was a feeling of sexual weakness. She wanted that cock and couldn't help herself now.
"Fuck me quick," she sobbed. "Please, ohhhhhh!"
He didn't seem to hear. His prick stayed buried balls deep in her cunt. Her delicate insides had begun to expand to take the hugeness of his cock. The girl's resilient cunt walls spread until she could feel every single bump and ridge on his pecker.
The cock danced with more and more lust for her. She felt the thick head expand until she was positive he would rip her apart again. And then be began to bounce her up and down on his knees, like a father might do with his little girl. She felt herself tossed up into the air, the prick almost leaving her cunt. She didn't know which was worse. Having that mighty cock threatening to rip her up was bad, but the emptiness after his prick left her pussy was even worse. But it didn't last long, that feeling of hollow, aching need. Her cunt gulped and filled itself with the huge plug of prick again. She slammed down hard onto his lap. The girl almost went out of her mind with the sensations rippling through her. She didn't think she could be that close to coming. The nearness of prick wasn't all that she needed for getting off. She needed a little tenderness in her lover and she was getting none of that now.
Gone was the feeling of power she had experienced as she had greedily nursed at the man's prick. Bradford had seen her reveling in that power and had allowed her just enough satisfaction so that when he deprived her of it that made the loss all the worse. He was a sadist! He enjoyed playing mind games with her.
Anything that would torment her was fine with him. She could barely focus her eyes, but she saw the huge bulge growing at Bradford's crotch. He was getting off just watching her being publicly abused. He had loved the feeling of her flesh yielding to the tightness of the knots he put into the thread on her wrists. And the sight of the huge prick splitting apart her puckered cunt lips was almost more than he could bear. She closed her eyes, hoping the world would go away. It didn't. If anything, it made the sensations in her body all the more potent. The up and down fucking she received jolted her repeatedly, rattling her teeth… She felt her pussy yielding softly again and again to that male battering ram. The man's cock drove into her juicy twat like a branding iron fresh from the fire. Every single inch seared her flesh. And then came the torrential outpouring of his come. Spurt after spurt filled her pussy in a vain attempt to put out the fires of lust burning there. She felt his cock begin to wilt inside her. Debbie felt nothing inside. She was still horny, but that wasn't the powerful driving force it once had been. These men made fucking into something cheap and tawdry. No longer could she get her kicks from a cock. It would take more, lots more.