Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter 8 Baseball, Hotdogs And Cherry Pie (Well, Almost)



   I had to drop my flip-flops to the ground.  They were jus t too loose
and awkward feeling when I tried to step out on the branch.  I remember
wondering how I was going to get up the tree again.  I would need my hands
and the thought of having to hold them in my mouth was gross.  Which was
typical for me at that age (still is really).  There I was, butt naked and
walking down our alley at 1:30 in the morning on my way to a spanking, (and
hopefully a fucking), and I was worrying about putting my sandals in my
mouth.  Darting from house to house, bush to bush and tree to tree I made
it all the way down to Higgins, cut through the Dairy Queen parking lot on
the corner and dashed across the street.  After two more blocks of
flinching at every sound and diving behind trees I was finally able to
sprint across Ronald Ave.  and into the relative safety of the trees next
to the Bonner Park band shell.  No one was around but it was a long way
from the safety of those trees to the dugout.  Still, it wasn't like it was
the first time I had looked at all of that grass that summer, so I knew I
could do it.  And I knew that I wanted to do it.  I took my flip-flops off
and ran as fast as I could till I reached the opening in the little chain
link fence and stepped down into the 3rd Base dugout.

   I was early.  He was late.  I had known that he would be.  He always
liked to make me wait and worry that some bored cop or security guard would
decide to check out the park and see my blonde head dive for the floor.  I
don't know how long I sat there waiting for him but it was long enough for
me to put my heels up on the bench, spread my legs and cum twice.  When he
did finally get there he had a day pack with him that he laid on the bench.
He sat down, grinned at me and held out his hand.  He didn't have to say
anything.  I gave him one of my sandals and crawled across his lap.  He
gave me 26, 13 for coming without permission that second time and 13 more
for `misbehaving' with Kyle, Jeff and Mr.  Bailey when he told me not to.
We hadn't even reached 10 when he stopped, grabbed my other sandal and
stuck it in my mouth to keep me quiet.  Somehow it seemed hot when he did
it to me and I knew I would be able to do it again when I got home.  I know
I came somewhere along the way but he wouldn't let me go and just kept
spanking me anyway.

   When he was through he pulled his sweats off, and made me squat over him
and impale myself.  I still remember how nasty I felt.  It was like he was
telling me that if I wanted his cock I was going to have to do it myself. I
did, and god it felt great.  I had my arms around his neck and was riding
him as hard as I could.  When he felt me explode on him he picked me and
started bouncing me up and down on it with his hands under my cheeks.  I
don't think I weighed more than 85 lbs.  back then and he just kept
bouncing me like that forever.  I was just on the verge of a major gusher
when he pulled me off and dropped me onto my knees on the dirty dugout
floor.  I got my gusher along with his cum all over my face.  When I
stopped trembling he pulled his sweats up, looked down at me and said,

   "God, I love looking at you with your face slimed like that!  Now,
remember what I told you today about helping you out with your little
exhibitionist kink?"

   I nodded up at him.  I knew it wasn't going to be good.  It wasn't.

   "Well, I've been thinking.  You are pretty use to sneaking down here by
now, so here's what I want you to do.  I want you to crawl around the
infield and keep going until you get all the way out to centerfield.  When
you get there get down on your forearms with your face in the grass and
spread your legs.  When you hear my car horn honk 4 times you can crawl
back here, grab your flip-flops and go home.  Hopefully, nobody but you
will hear my horn."

   He leered at me when he said that.  That was the kicker that had me
dripping; the fear that someone else would hear his horn and come to
investigate.  He couldn't just leave it at that of course.  He never could.

   "I suggest you stop thinking about it and get moving.  I'm not leaving
until I see that you are in position.  My car is 2 blocks away in the DQ
parking lot on Strand and Higgins.  By the way you ran right by me and
didn't even know it.  It's going to take me awhile to get to it and drive
back here so the sooner you get moving the less time you will have to be
out there.  Oh, I almost forgot."

   I knew this wasn't going to be good either.  He never just `forgot'
anything.  He reached into his day pack and pulled out a big black dildo,
the kind with a suction cup on the bottom and balls at the base.  Even the
cock part looked real.  It had veins on it and I remember thinking that
there was no way I would ever be able to get that thing inside of me.  It
wasn't really that big, at least compared to the one I have now, but at 13
it looked huge.  It was half again as big as the first one he had given me.
He turned it around sideways and told me to open my mouth.

   "Now when you get out there I want you to shove this thing into your
slutty little hole and keep it in there until you hear my horn.  And I
don't just want you to crawl back here with it in your mouth like a good
little doggie with her bone; I want you to keep it in your mouth until you
get back to your bedroom."

   I started creaming before I even got out of the dugout.  I could feel it
gushing out of me and down my thighs all the way out there through the wet
grass.  But I did what he said.  By the time I got out there I had drool
running down my chin.  I don't think I had ever been as scared as I was
that night.  Scared and unbelievably turned on from it.  I think I would
have fucked every guy from Sentinel High if they had found me there.  As
weird as it seems, pushing that big thing into me somehow relieved the
fear. It felt so good and doing it made me feel so slutty that I kind of
forgot how scared I was; for awhile at least.  But then I started worrying
about how he was going to know that I was `in position' for him.  There
were some security lights near the tennis courts at the north end of the
park but I knew that their light couldn't reach all the way out to where I
was.  I shouldn't have worried.  After all, it was Mr.  Sanders.

   Apparently he had brought his camera in his pack too.  I didn't hear him
come up.  The first I knew he was there was when the flash went off.  I was
so startled that it wasn't until the second flash went off from behind me
that I finally said,

   "Oh god, no!  Please, Mr.  Sanders, somebody is going to see that!"

   He ignored me, walked around to my right side and took another.  When he
came around in front of me he made me get up on my hands and look at him.

   "You know I really do like you in pig tails, Candy.  It keeps your hair
out of your face."

   I remember thinking what an odd thing to say that was.  Then I noticed
the grin on his face as he pulled a magic marker out of his pocket.  I knew
what it said.  I could feel the letters as he wrote them across my
forehead. He made me keep my head up for 2 more pictures and each time I
had to say the `words'.  By the time I got to the second `slut' I came as
hard as I ever had and collapsed back down onto my forearms with my face in
the grass.  I was shaking so hard that that there was no way I could
control my vagina and it pushed the dildo out of me onto the grass.  He
laughed at me and said,

   "That's going to cost you, slut.  Better add 13 more to your total."

   He walked around behind me, picked it up and pushed it back into me. 
After fucking me with it until I was right on the edge he pushed it all the
way in and warned me not to drop it again.  I told him I wouldn't and
that's when I heard him take the cap off of the magic marker for the second
time and write the same thing across my cheeks.  He reminded me not to
leave until I heard his horn and then walked away.  He left me like that;
on my knees and forearms with my cheek in the grass, my legs spread, a big
black dildo pushed into me and the word, "SLUT" written in big black
letters on my forehead and butt.  I don't think he had even reached the
trees before I reached back between my thighs and finished my orgasm.

   I remember that when I calmed down the fear set in again, big time.  I
was sure that someone must have seen those flashes go off.  Sure that they
were calling the cops or coming over to see what was going on for
themselves.  Like that day in Mr.  Sander's stairwell I knew that I should
go before somebody saw me but I didn't want to.  I wanted to keep on
cumming until somebody did find me.  Scared, crazy and horny I wanted to
get caught.  Just the thought of everyone knowing what I had been doing had
me gushing.  I could see them all laughing at me at school.  See them
pointing at me on the playground or writing "SLUT" in big black letters on
my locker.  Lost in one of my brain / pussy feedback loops I used what I
knew would happen if I did get caught to drive my hand and that dildo into
me so many times I lost count of the orgasms I had.  I also lost track of
the time since Mr.  Sanders had left.

   I remember that I was gasping from the 5th (or 6th?) cum when the sound
of his horn finally pulled me out of it.  He couldn't have just honked as
he drove by on Ronald Ave.  though.  Instead he drove all the way around
onto Hilda and parked next to the trees behind home plate: the direction
that I had to go to get back to my flip-flops.  I don't think anyone could
possibly crawl faster than I did over to that dugout that night.  I was
sure that if anything was going to bring somebody over to the park, a car
honking its horn right in front of it at 3 in the morning would do it.  I
grabbed my flip-flops and ran back into the trees at the corner of Ronald
and Beverly.  I don't know why I did it.  I didn't have to.  I guess it was
just for the humiliation of it.  Instead of carrying my dildo I put it in
my mouth like Mr.  Sanders had told me too.  Feeling every bit the doggie
slut he said I was, I carried it home like a bone drooling all over my chin
and chest.

   It was only 5 blocks but it seemed to take forever.  It was a Sunday
morning so there weren't a lot of cars out.  Even so, as soon as I got
across Higgins I stayed in the alley all the way back.  I only had to duck
behind some bushes twice, but the second time some dumb dog heard me and
then another one barked because he did.  At that point I pulled the dildo
out of my mouth and ran the last 2 blocks until I got home.  And that's
when I remembered that it was Sunday.  It had been my friend on the way
home but it wasn't my friend as I walked thru the bushes between our
garages.  Sunday meant church.  George never missed church.  It was his big
day to act like a saint, but everybody knew that the only reason he was
there was to remind them that he sold cars.  But what it also meant was
that I wasn't going to get to sleep in until they went to work like I
usually did.  I was going to have to clean the magic marker off of me as
soon as I got home.

   I couldn't carry everything in my mouth so I decided to leave my
flip-flops on the back porch.  But when I got over to my tree I discovered
that Mr.  Sanders had one more trick to play on me.  Hanging from one of
the bottom branches was my new peach bikini.  He had promised to give it
back to me after he saw me in my blue one and that was how he kept his
promise.  I knew I couldn't leave it hanging there, plus I was starting to
panic because I didn't have any idea what time it was by then.  Somehow I
managed to the loop the top thru the leg holes of the bottoms and tie it
around my neck.  He had me so well trained by then that the thought of just
putting it on never occurred to me.  When I got into my room one look in my
mirror was enough to get me wet again.  It wasn't just the "SLUT" front and
back, although that was part of it.  It was the big black dildo sticking
out of my mouth with that suction cup on the end.

   Like the first one that he had bought me, I couldn't wait to get down in
front of my mirror to see what I looked like with it in me.  But I had
grass stuck to my calves and arms and glued to my face by his cum.  I used
a dirty t-shirt form the hamper to clean off my legs and arms so I wouldn't
get it on the carpet.  Even as blonde as I am I knew that trying to explain
how I managed to get grass all over my bedroom floor would not be fun.  But
I left the grass on my face.  As always, looking dirty like that made me
cream just from remembering how I got that way.

   I am sure that I must have looked pretty funny at first.  Down on my
knees and forearms, looking over my shoulder like I usually did I started
to cream as soon as I pushed it into me.  But I kept looking at that
suction cup and wanted to feel what it would be like if I didn't have to
use my hands.  I knew that was what it was meant for so I turned around,
lined it up as best as I could on the mirror and backed up on it.  It felt
ok just because of how thick it was but I couldn't get it very deep because
my feet were up against the door.  I tried spreading them wider but it
really didn't help.  I remember feeling frustrated.  It was after 4am by
then and I really wanted to cum and get some sleep before my mom woke me
for church.  I tried standing up and glued it right behind me but that
didn't work very well either.  I could get it deeper but my door didn't fit
in the frame very well.  I hadn't noticed it before but every time I pushed
back it would bang against the frame a little.  I knew that when I really
got going I would wake everyone up, including Mr.  Sanders.  And then I saw
it.  The solution was right in front of me the whole time.  The legs on my
bed frame were square.

   I remember thinking `please let it stick' as I pulled it off of the
mirror because I wasn't sure that it would stick to wood, even if it was
painted.  It did.  And it stuck really well every time I put it there for
the next 5 years.  It was perfect.  With my right leg around the post and
under my bed and my left one outside it I could get it all the way into me.
Staring at my dirty face and Mr.  Sanders' "SLUT" tattoo on my forehead I
came twice before I realized that I had to stop.  I knew I if didn't stop I
wouldn't have time to get the magic marker off.  Ashley and I had painted
ourselves up with colored marker tattoos once when we were 10.  I
remembered that it had taken my mom a long time to get it off.  I never did
get to sleep that night.

   Using baby oil, soap and my loofah it seemed to take forever to get my
forehead clean.  I didn't want to scrub too hard.  I knew if I did I would
have a big red spot.  Plus I had to use my sink to stay quiet.  If my mom
had heard my shower going that early she would have come up to see why.  As
it was I was just getting ready to start on the "S" in back when she did
call up to tell me it was time to get up.  I yelled down `OK" and got into
the shower.  I figured that it would be easier to get the "SLUT" off of my
cheeks with the shower to help rinse it away.  I never got the chance.  I
was just starting to rinse my hair out when my mom pulled the curtain back
and stuck her head in.

   "My, you're up early.  Usually I have to drag you out of bed kicking and
screaming, especially for Church."

   I was almost quivering.  If she had stuck her head in 5 seconds sooner I
would have been facing the spray and she would have had a heart attack.

   "I know, I didn't sleep very well.  I guess because of all the
excitement of the car show and driving up to Stevensville and back.  And
then the birds woke me up about an hour ago and I couldn't get back to
sleep."

   "Well I brought you some clean towels.  Now don't take too long or there
won't be any hot water left for the rest of us."

   I didn't have any choice.  I had to get out of the shower with the
"SLUT" tattoo on my back still intact.  I dried my hair and then pulled my
panties on.  It was worse than I thought it was going to be.  The black
letters were visible through the thin cotton but they were also visible
above the waist band.  Although you couldn't tell exactly what they
spelled, it wouldn't take a genius to figure it out.  I knew that I had to
get them off of me before I put on another pair of cut-offs.  I threw on my
dress and brushed my hair but when I got downstairs my mom took one look at
my old green dress, shook her head and smiled at me,

   "You have got to stop growing, Candy.  If you go up another bust size,
that dress is going to look like a shirt.  I guess we are going to have to
go back to the mall this week.  You can't keep going to church in a dress
that short."

   I remember George looking over at me when she said that.  He was by the
kitchen sink drinking a cup of coffee and the look on his face wasn't very
pious.  He had started `perving' on me when I turned 10 and didn't stop
until I moved out.  It wasn't that it was really that short.  It was only
about 3 or 4 inches above my knee.  My new school skirts were that short
and the old ones were a lot shorter.  It was just too short for church.  I
offered to put on a nice pair of slacks but George shot that idea down
right away.  Most of the families in the parish never dressed up for Mass
anymore, except for Christmas and Easter.  But "his" family was going to
dress `right'.  He wore a suit and the three of us always had to wear
dresses.  I'm sure the first thing that anyone thought of when they came to
buy a car was how much they loved the dress I was wearing the previous
Sunday.

   It flared out at the waist so I did have to be a little careful getting
in and out of the car or sitting down and standing up.  (If I wanted to.)
If I let the back drag a little behind me as I got out of the car or a
chair it would pull the front up just enough for me to flash a little of my
panties to whoever was standing there.  I don't know why I have always been
so bad but that day in church I was terrible.  Maybe it was because of what
I had done the day before or because of the "SLUT" that was still scrawled
across my cheeks, but I just couldn't keep myself from teasing a little
bit. When we got there we were early but not too early, just the way George
liked it.  He liked to get there early enough for everyone to notice but
not so early that he couldn't `shake a few hands' before we went in. 
Another reason he liked to get there early was so we could get one of the
front pews were Father Morton was sure to see him.  But the main reason was
because after the service we would be one of the first families out and he
could do a lot more `handshaking'.  In case you haven't noticed I don't
like George very much.

   When we got there my mom and I took Debbie down to the nursery and when
we got back upstairs George was waiting for us.  It was always the same. 
The three of us would march down the aisle and when we got to the closest
empty pew George would stand aside to let me and then my mom in.  I will
say this, considering what my mom went through; getting pregnant with me in
high school and having more than a few `boyfriends' before she met George,
she was very religious.  She honestly enjoyed going to church.  Me, not so
much.

   It really was an accident that first time.  As we went down on the
kneeler my dress kind of caught on the pew and then flipped up in back as I
went down.  I didn't know if the people behind me had seen anything but I
got a little moist wondering if they had.  The "impure thoughts" weren't
far behind.  I've never been to any other churches so I don't know if they
are the same as ours but I swear that we spent more time kneeling down and
standing up then we did sitting.  But that day, for the first time ever it
didn't bother me so much.  Each time we went to sit back down again,
instead of sitting on my dress I would flip it up in back at the last
second so that I was sitting on the wood.  After that, each time we would
go down to the kneeler my dress would drag behind me long enough that I was
sure they were getting a good flash of my favorite pink panties.  By the
time we went up to take communion my panties were soaked.  The last time I
did it, I purposely went as slow as I could and I thought I was going to
cream right there in church.  Not just from knowing that I was giving
someone a good flash but from wondering if there was a wet trail on the
wood behind me.

   The other thing that we did right at the end of the mass is everybody
shakes each other's hands and wishes them a million bucks or something.  I
had forgotten about it.  I didn't know who was behind us.  I had been too
caught up in the `moment' to worry about it.  If I had thought about it at
all I guess I reasoned that it had to be one of the older couples that
always got there early too.  When I first realized that I was going to have
to turn around and face them I started to panic.  But I knew that they were
old and I was young so my `clueless' routine would save me.  But they
weren't old.  They were young.  Only 3 years older than me to be exact. 
When I turned around I was looking into the grinning faces of the Babel
twins, Jeremy and John.  They had been in trouble since kindergarten and
everyone wondered how they had made it to their junior year at Hellgate
High School.  John grabbed my hand like he was going to shake it but pulled
me close to him as he leaned over the back of the pew,

   "Nice show slut.  Wear blues ones next time, I don't really like pink."

   Jeremy was worse,

   "If you don't want us to tell your mom what you've been doing, meet us
by the walkway after Mass.  I want to see what those panties look like from
the front."

   I don't even remember the Benediction.  As we walked down the aisle I
was trembling from the fear of what they would tell my mom if I didn't show
up, and creaming from wondering what they were going to make me do if I
did. While we went to get Debbie, George went outside to `handshake'.  When
we got outside he was in a big conversation with Father Morton and 4 or 5
other men.  My mom wanted to talk to her friends so I told her I was going
to talk to the other kids over by the High School.  I'm not sure if she
even heard me.  It was the same routine every Sunday.  After a half an hour
we would all meet up at the car again.  I could see John and Jeremy waiting
for me, but as soon as I left my mom they took off too.  I probably should
have realized that it wasn't a good thing that they didn't want to be seen
with me.  They were 17 year old juniors and I was a 13 year old eighth
grader.  They never would have lived it down if any of their friends had
seen us together.

   By the time I got back there they were waiting for me between the 2
maintenance sheds attached to the back of the school.  Jeremy backed me
into the wall and grinned,

   "I knew you'd come, slut.  Afraid of what your mommy would do if she
knew you were flashing your pretty panties at us all through Mass?"

   I tried to play `clueless' but I knew it wasn't going to work.

   "I don't know what you guys are talking about."

   "Bullshit, every time you sat down you flipped that dress up at us. 
Besides, you wouldn't be here now if you didn't want to keep your mom from
finding out.  So let's see them.  Pull that dress up."

   I looked at John but his leer told me that I wasn't going to get any
help from him.  I started to blush before I even got my hands on the hem. I
knew what they were going to see and I creamed a little more.  It wasn't
just showing them my panties or the fact that I probably had a camel-toe
showing.  It was the fact that they were wet and had been getting wetter
ever since that first trip to the kneeler.  When they saw the wet spot I
thought for sure that someone would hear them.  They must have too because
they quieted down right away and John went down to the opening between the
sheds to make sure no one was coming.  Jeremy wasn't concerned.  Still
holding my dress up to my waist for him, he pushed me up flat against the
brick wall and started stroking me.  I wanted him to make me cum but at the
same time I was scared to death he would turn me around and see Mr. 
Sander's tattoo.  I spread my legs a little for him and he grinned at me.
He pushed his hand inside my panties and down to my slit.

   "Ever had a finger in this wet little hole, slut?"

   I lied to him of course.  God only knows what they would have done to me
if they had known the truth.  I felt him push his middle finger up into me
but he got this weird look on his face.  I thought that maybe it was
because I was so wet.

   "Get them off."

   "What?"

   "If you want me to finger bang you take them off.  They're too tight."

   He laughed when I did it.  Not so much from the fact that I did it;
admitting to him that I wanted him to `finger bang' me, but because of how
fast I did it.  John held his hand out when I got them off and I handed
them to him.  As soon as I did Jeremy pushed me back up against the wall
again and told me to lift my dress.  I had nowhere to look but into John's
grinning face as his brother worked me over.  Looking right into my eyes he
leered at me, squeezed my right breast as hard as he could and hissed into
my ear,

   "Slut!"

   Jeremy must have sensed I was getting close when his brother said that,
probably because I clamped down so hard on his finger.  He made me spread
my legs wider for him and then pushed a second finger into me.  God, I felt
so nasty letting the two of them use me in public like that.  I was almost
ready to explode when we heard the whistle.  It was one of those whistles
that guys make with 2 fingers in their mouths; the kind of whistle that can
be heard for blocks.  It was their father's whistle and they were scared to
death of him.  Jeremy pulled his fingers out of me,

   "See ya, slut.  We have to go."

   I was so close and then it just ended.  I think I was kind of stunned
more than anything.

   "Wait, John, give me my back panties!"

   "Uh,uh, you get them back after I've had my turn."

   I didn't think they would just leave and not say anything.  Maybe a
thank you.  Or, can I have your number?  I should have known better.  To be
honest I did know better.  If they had been at all interested in me as a
person they would have let me walk with them.  Jeremy did have one last
thing to say.

   "You can let go of your dress now, slut."

   I was so stunned by how fast everything ended that I hadn't realized I
was still holding it up.  I dropped it but not before the 2 of them broke
out in laughter again.  I was so hot by then that all I wanted to do was
lean against the building and rub one off.  But I knew that my mom was
probably looking for me too so I straightened my dress and walked back
around to the front of the church.  George was still `handshaking' but I
could tell that she was ready to go.  As a team the 3 of us went over and
stood next to him.  He got the hint and we finally left.

   When we got home I told my mom that I really wanted to take a nap
because I hadn't slept very well and woke up so early.  She understood and
told me the Espland's were having a cookout and that I should come down
when I woke up.  They had a pool so she told me to wear my new suit.  I
knew there was no way I could go with that magic marker on me so as soon as
they left I jumped back in the shower.  It didn't seem to take as long,
probably because some of it had already started to wear off.  Then I
crawled into bed.  I really was tired from being up all night.  Well, ok, I
didn't go right to bed.  I had to make sure that suction cup would still
stick to the bed post first.  I never did make it to the cookout.