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 Chapter 10 How I Learned To Play Basketball

   By the time I got up to my room my suit was soaked from his cum leaking
out of me.  I couldn't help myself.  I really couldn't.  I looked so nasty
like that I thought I was going to cum just from staring at myself in my
mirror.  It didn't take long.  It never does.  It wasn't until after I had
showered and was getting dressed that I remembered that Brian still had my
pink panties.  I had a bad feeling about that and I was right.  Monday
morning when I walked up to the school I saw that he didn't have them
anymore.  They were waving in the breeze at the top of the flag pole.  I
was a mess all day waiting for the hall pass that would summon me to the
principal's office and let everyone know that they were mine.  But the hall
pass never came.  It wasn't until Thursday that I finally stopped worrying
about it and decided that for some reason Principal Geiger was being nice
to me.  The only other option I could come up with was that the janitor had
kept them.  Everybody knew that he was a perv.  It wasn't until I was
giving him head in his car two weeks later that Brian told me that he
hadn't written my name on them like the guys do in high school.  He said he
just did it to torment me.  It worked.

   He was a master of that.  For the entire four years we were `together'
he was always finding new ways to drive me crazy and then he would pull me
back into his arms and I would let him.  I know now that it was because
that is the way I am `wired'.  I love being sexually humiliated.  But at
the time I told myself it was because he was my `boyfriend' and that he
wouldn't love me anymore if I didn't do the degrading things that he wanted
me to do for him.  Afterwards, when he was taking me home in his car he
would always have me sit next to him, put his arm around my shoulder,
massage my right breast and tell me that he loved me and how proud of me he
was for being his `little slut'.  And I think he did love me in his own
way. He just wasn't `in love' with me.  Certainly not in the same way I was
in love with him.  He wouldn't call for weeks, and just when I had given up
on him, resigned myself to the fact that he had used me and dumped me, he
would show up and I would go running back into his arms, and into whatever
sordid game he had planned for me.

   I didn't hear from him for over 2 weeks.  In his defense he really
couldn't call.  My mom and George both had cell phones but I didn't. 
George didn't think that `children' should have them.  So the only phone I
had access to was the wall phone in our kitchen.  I was on my way home from
school when he drove up next to me, grinned and told me to get in.  Ashley
had just turned off less than a block behind and I remember looking back,
nervous that she might see me getting into his car and worried that I would
have a lot of explaining to do the next day if she had.  He told me that he
had tried to call me but that both times my mom had answered so he had hung
up.  We decided that picking me up on my way home from school was the only
way we could get together or make plans.  For a moment he was almost tender
as we joked about the panty episode and then he got that look in his eye
that I learned to expect, a look that told me that he was up to something
that I wasn't going to like.

   That day he wanted a blow job.  He asked me if I had ever given one
before and when I nodded yes he unzipped his jeans and told me to get
started.  I remember thinking to myself what a slut I was for doing it in
his car like that, but that didn't stop me.  He was my `boyfriend' after
all.  I leaned over and took him in my mouth but the angle was awkward for
both of us so he told me to get up on my knees and bend over.  That put my
butt up in the air of course, making my cheeks flush from knowing that
anyone driving by or on the sidewalk would see them and know where my head
was.  As he pushed my head into his lap I was thinking more about whether
my short school skirt was long enough to cover my wet slit.  I knew it was
wet.  I could feel it starting to ooze down my thighs.  And just like every
time I had sucked Mr.  Sanders or any of the other men in our neighborhood
I knew that I would cum long before he did.

   I know I surprised him.  Every time he would push my head down I would
let him slide into my throat.  After the third or fourth time he pulled me
up by my pig-tails and asked me where I had learned to do that?  I knew I
couldn't tell him the truth, so I lied and told him that I just thought
that was what I was supposed to do it.  All he said was, `Damn Straight'
and then pushed me down again.  But after that he didn't push nearly as
hard.  Somewhere along the way he decided to pull my skirt up so he could
play with me and that's when he discovered that I wasn't wearing panties.
Pulling my head up again he made me explain why and I told him.  I remember
him laughing at me as he told me that I was the, `skankiest little slut' he
had ever met and that I was never to wear them when I was with him unless
he told me too.  Still laughing he told me that if he ever did tell me to
wear them I could expect to find them up the flag pole at school with my
name on them and then he pushed me down again.

   That's when I came for the first time.  Well almost.  It took my brain
all of 30 seconds first.  It was all so humiliating and the more I thought
about it the hotter I got.  I mean there I was with a cock in my mouth, my
skirt around my waist, knowing that everyone could see my now oozing
cooter, and that this time the hall pass to Principal Geiger's office was
sure to arrive and let everyone know what a slut I was.  I came hard.  And
knowing that people could see my cum oozing out of me in globs onto his
vinyl seat made it more intense and sent me onto my `plateau'.  I remember
him pulling me up, laughing at me and asking me if I was having an orgasm.
All I could do was look up at him with puppy dog eyes and quiver.  He let
me calm down for a minute, told me he had never met a girl who would cum
just from giving head and then pushed me down again.

   By that time we were on Brooks and I remember wondering where he was
taking me.  Every time he would start to get close he would pull me up by
my pig-tails so he wouldn't cum and so I could see how busy the traffic was
around us.  Finally I felt him turn right, then left and then he was
backing up.  He had one hand on my head pushing, his cock as deep into my
throat as he could, turned the car off and let me have it.  I remember
thinking that no one could possibly cum that much but he sure did.  If he
had just been in my mouth I don't think I could have ever kept up.  He made
me stay down there until I had licked him clean and then pulled me up.  And
that's when I came for the second time.  We were in the back parking lot of
Rockin' Rudy's music store.  People were walking by on Tremont St.  and
because he had backed in my still oozing pussy was on full display.  There
was a small tree between me and the sidewalk but that was it.  I spun
around and slid down the seat so my head was below the window.  But it was
too late.  Just the thought that they had seen me sent me over the top.  He
couldn't stop laughing me as I pulled up my skirt and masturbated in front
of him.

   When I stopped shaking he asked me if I had ay pens or magic markers in
my pack.  I told him both and he told me to give him the markers.  After
what Mr.  Sanders had done to me I knew that I was in trouble.  I had
three; black, orange and red.  He took the red one.  By the time he was
through I had `SLUT' across my forehead, `FUCK ME' on the inside of my
right thigh with an arrow pointing up, `EASY CUNT' on the inside of my left
one with another arrow.  He made me give him my bra and tie the loose ends
of my blouse up under my breasts as tight as I could so he could write
`COCKSUCKER' across my belly and then made me turn around and get on my
hands and knees.  After I felt him write `SKANK' on my back he pushed 2 of
his fingers into me and made me cum for him again with my head out the
window.

   When he was through with me he told me get out of the car.  I remember
thinking `my god', what else is he going to do to me?' But he saw the look
in my eyes when I turned back around and sat on the seat.  He knew that I
was getting off on the humiliation and so did I.  At first I thought it was
because he just wanted to see what I looked like standing up and to torment
me with the possibility of someone walking by.  He got out too, walked
around the front of the car grinning at me with that `look' that told me I
wasn't going to like what he had planned for me.  He had my day pack in one
hand and his camera in the other.  He told me that I didn't look slutty
enough yet and made me roll the waist band of my skirt up until it was
barely 6 inches below my cheeks and cooter.  I don't remember how many
pictures he took of me but all of them were humiliating and as always just
the clicking sound of the camera made me cream.  I remember that most of
them were of me bent over touching my toes or facing him with my breasts
pulled out of my blouse, my legs spread, and holding my skirt up with both
hands.

   I remember thinking that it couldn't possibly get any worse, but it did.
A lot worse.  He made me get my panties and the black magic marker out of
my pack.  Then he spread my panties out flat on the hood of his car, handed
the marker back to me and told me to write my name on them.  I tried
squeezing my knees and thighs together but it wasn't any use.  The thought
that I was going to write my name on them, so he could humiliate me further
by running them up the flag pole at school my made me crazy.  And knowing
that I had put my name on them myself, contributing to my own humiliation,
admitting to him and everyone at school what a slut I was, drove me right
back onto my `plateau'.  Right there in the parking lot I grabbed onto the
door handle, spread my legs and came in front of him as he laughed at me
and at the goo dripping out from under my skirt onto the broken asphalt
between my feet.  Then I did what he had asked, I wrote my name on the back
of my panties and gave them to him.

   And that's when he hit me with the final humiliation.  He stuffed my
panties into his back pocket and told me that he was late for work and
wouldn't be able to drive me home.  I remember begging him not to make me
walk home with all of his graffiti on me but he just laughed.  He said I
better get walking if I wanted to get home before my mom and that I better
not touch my skirt or blouse until I got there.  He told he made deliveries
for the store and that he would be driving by to check on me.  He did too.
I was at the corner of Beverly and Higgins waiting for the traffic to clear
when he drove up in front of the Dairy Queen across the street, honked his
horn 3 or 4 times and yelled SLUT out the window as loud as he could.  But
by then I had been through so much that one more humiliation just added
another glob of goo to my already soaked thighs.  I sprinted past the
people at the DQ, through the parking lot and down our alley until I
reached our garage.  I was so winded by then that I had to stop next to the
garbage cans and put my hands on my knees to get my breath back.

   I was still huffing when Mr.  Sanders came around the side of our garage
with two of George's ratchet straps in his hand.  I don't know what I
expected when I stood up to look at him.  Sympathy?  Did I mention how
clueless I can be?  I was covered in red graffiti from my forehead to my
knees, covered in cum from the top of my head to my anklets and my blouse
was so wet it was transparent.  The last thing on his mind was sympathy. 
He grinned at me and ordered me not to move.  As I watched him go down his
basement steps my knees started to shake.  I knew what he was going down
there for.  But as always he surprised me.  When he came back up he didn't
just have my paddle in his hand, he had his camera and video camera too. 
He made me pose for his camera like Brian had.  But when he was through he
picked up my paddle, pushed me face first over our garbage can and told me
to start counting.  13 spanks later he told me that those were for standing
him up.  In the excitement of seeing Brian again I had forgotten that he
had left me a BRS note on his basement door that morning.  Just like Brian
he made me pull my breasts out and hold my skirt up.  Then he picked up his
video camera and said,

   "All right Candy, let's hear it.  Start with the moment you took your
panties off after school right up to this instant.  And don't leave
anything out.  I have a feeling the guys at work are going to love this one
a lot more than all of the others put together."

   When he said that I remember flashing back to Jeff and Kyle and
wondering how many more men at his work had seen my pictures and videos. 
It was like he was forcing a confession out of me for them.  He wanted me
to humiliate myself for their enjoyment and his.  And I wanted to do it.  I
know I did.  I wanted to see his face when I told him just how degrading my
afternoon had been.

   As soon as I realized that Brian really wasn't coming back I ran across
the street to the shelter of some maple trees.  But when I crossed Blaine
there were only a few trees left until I reached Higgins and I remember
hoping that since it was too early for people to be getting off of work,
and that most of the kids my age were already home, I might just be able to
make it.  If I stayed on the right side of the street with cars going by me
in the other direction there was a good chance that they wouldn't see or
notice me, and if they did they would already be by me before they realized
what they had seen.  The only problem was the cars driving up behind me. 
They were sure to see the "SKANK" on my back but I didn't know what else to
do.  My plan worked, for a while.  I knew I couldn't walk down Higgins. 
Even though it was the shortest way, it was also one of the busiest streets
in our part of town.  I waited for an open spot and then darted across to
the shelter of the trees on University Ave.  University has its share of
traffic too because it ends right at the U of M (duh) but only one car
passed me.  It was two guys and they honked at me, but I am pretty sure
that it was because of my skirt and not because they could read Brian's
graffiti.  But because of them I jogged the rest of the way to Gerald Ave.

   Gerald has a lot of trees and very little traffic and I remember
thinking that if I could just make it to Beverly I could run across Higgins
again to the safety of our alley.  And I almost made it.  I was about 3
houses away from Beckwith when I saw her.  She had to be almost 80 and was
sitting on her porch watching the street.  I knew I couldn't walk right in
front of her so I crossed to the other side of the street and prayed that
she had really bad eye sight.  I can't blame what happened on her, but if I
had been able to stay on the right side of the street there is a least a
chance that I might have made it home dry.  I had just crossed Beckwith
when the inevitable finally happened.  Two guys in a blue convertible drove
by me.  I still think it was my skirt that grabbed their attention but I
wasn't going to wait around to ask them.  As fast as I could I ran into the
alley between Beckwith and Evans and through the first bushes that looked
like safety.  I hoped that they would just keep driving towards University
but when I heard their tires squeal as they turned around that hope was
gone.

   With no bra on the twigs and dirt scratched my breasts and nipples so
hard I started to juice, although the fear of getting caught by them
probably had something to do with it too.  But no matter what there was no
way I was going to get off of the ground and give them a chance to see me.
Peering out from under the bushes I saw their tires roll slowly by.  They
were laughing about how hot I was and how fast I could run.  I waited for a
bit and then crawled forward just enough to poke my head out from under the
bushes and see them turn right on Ronald.  Somehow I knew that they would
come back so I squirmed backwards and waited.  They did, and that time they
weren't laughing as much.  They sounded frustrated that they hadn't been
able to find me.  That time when I poked my head out it was to see them
turn left on Ronald, back in the direction they had been going when they
spotted me.

   I waited a couple more minutes just to be sure they weren't going to
turn left on Beckwith and circle around one more time, and then I got up.
When I looked down it was to see my blouse covered in dirt and my nipples
poking out so far that there was a twig lying on top of the left one.  I
brushed it off, and as much of the dirt as I could, but I still looked like
I had been wearing that blouse for a week.  I jogged down to Ronald just to
be sure that they weren't coming back one more time but when I looked up
the street I couldn't see their car anywhere and panicked.  I crossed
Ronald and ran down the alley the rest of the way to Hilda.  The problem
with Hilda was that it put me on the far side of Bonner Park and I either
had to walk around it or cut through it.

   There was no one on the tennis courts or playing volleyball but there
were six guys playing basketball on the court down by the baseball field. I
decide to cut through between the tennis courts and volley ball pit.  By
then the fear and the humiliation had done their work on my bladder as well
as my nipples.  Just past the tennis courts there is one of those little
cinder block bathrooms.  If I had just waited until I got home so much in
my life may have been different.  (but not nearly as fun).  Looking back
over the last ten years I have been gangbanged a lot and I have always
loved it.  All those cocks in me, all of that cum on me, and being the
center of attention drives me straight up onto my `plateau' and I stay
there for at least 2 days before I start feeling `normal' again.  They say
that there has to be a first time for everything and that first time for me
was just like the last time a couple of weeks ago.  I came.  A lot.

   I don't know when they first spotted me.  It could have been when I was
sneaking between the tennis and volleyball courts, or when I walked into
the bathroom.  For all I know they may have noticed me when I crossed
Evans. But whenever it was the biggest one was waiting for me for me when I
came out.  I'm still pretty sure that it was my short skirt that first
caught his attention too, but when he saw all of that nasty graffiti on me
I thought he was going to choke.  As the others came up he grabbed me by
shoulders and spun me around so they could see it.  Then he twisted me to
face him again and demanded to know what was up.  I tried to lie of course.
I told him that I had lost a bet with my girlfriend but he just laughed and
said,

   "`Bullshit, it looks to me like you got caught cheating by your
boyfriend and he wants everybody to know what a slut you are."

   What choice did I have?  One lie was as good another so I told him he
was right, that I had promised to never cheat on him again and let him tag
me up so he would take me back.  I still remember the way he laughed when I
told him that.  It was as much mocking me as laughing at me.  He told me
that I was going to break my promise 6 times before I saw him again and
then pushed me into the men's side of the bathroom.  When he did my skirt
must have flipped up.  He didn't see it but one of his friends did.  As
soon as we were in there he pulled it up and let them all know that I
didn't have any panties on.  The big one grinned at me and told me to pull
up my skirt.  When I did he reached down and began running one of his fat
fingers up and down my wet slit.  After everything I had been through I was
on the verge anyway.  My knees started to buckle and I had to spread my
legs a little to steady myself.  He took that as a `welcome' sign and
grinned at me as he pushed his middle finger into my hole as far as he
could.  Sneering at me he asked if I wanted all of them to fuck me.  Just
the question sent me over the top and as I came in front of them I knew
that I was going to let them do anything they wanted to me.

   The big one went first of course.  He was obviously the leader of the
group.  I never did learn his name, or any of the others' names for that
matter.  They kept calling each other `man' and `dude'.  I'm pretty sure
they did it on purpose so I wouldn't know who they were.  Not that I would
have cared.  I was already climbing towards my `plateau' when he pushed me
over to the sink.  But just like Mr.  Howard he couldn't get the right
angle because of our height difference so he pushed me over to the urinal
and tried it that way.  The rest of the guys thought that was hilarious but
he still didn't like it and pushed me to my hands and knees.  The concrete
was really rough and I remember worrying that if they all fucked me on the
floor like that I was going to have some seriously scraped knees by the
time they let me go.  But the big one didn't like it either and ordered one
of his buddies to check the dumpster outside for some cardboard.  While his
friend was gone he was slowly pushing in and out of me and driving me
crazy. I kept trying to push back against him but he wouldn't let me.  He
was having fun embarrassing me in front of them.  He kept telling them how
wet and tight I was and every time he would bottom out he would spank me
and ask me if I liked getting fucked.

   When his friend got back he was carrying 2 cardboard boxes and one of
them was wet.  You can guess who got the wet one.  They broke them down and
laid them on the floor in front of the toilet stall.  He pulled out of me,
spanked me really hard and told me to get crawling if I wanted any more of
his cock.  (Like he would have stopped fucking me if I hadn't.) I did of
course, and apparently fast enough that it made them all laugh.  As always
the humiliation of guys laughing at me made me cream.  My arms gave out and
I dropped to my forearms in front of them.  He really let me have it after
that.  He kept asking me if I liked being a slut, I kept moaning yes every
time he asked.  His friends were calling me every nasty name they could
think of and in less than2 minutes he had me cumming all over his thick
cock.  He didn't have to tell them, they could all see the way I was
shaking and pushing back against him.  If anything he began to fuck me even
harder when he felt me clenching around him.  And that's when the one who
had found the boxes said,

   "Hey man, don't cum in her.  I don't want sloppy seconds."

   He slowed down long enough to look over at him and snarl,

   "How the fuck do you think we're going to knock her up if we don't cum
in her?"

   And that's how my favorite fantasy was born.  Ever since then, just
thinking about getting pregnant at a 9 or 10 man gangbang and not knowing
who the father is drives me crazy.  And it did that day too.  As soon as he
started fucking me again I started begging him not to cum in me.  I knew he
was getting off on it.  He spanked me really hard and told me that a girl
that was slutty enough to let 6 guys gangbang her in an outhouse should
carry her own "god damn condoms" if she didn't want to get pregnant.  I
came for the second time when he said that and when I did I felt him swell
up inside me and let loose.

   The box boy was in me as soon as the big one pulled out.  His qualms
about sloppy seconds were apparently replaced by the lust of getting me
pregnant.  He let me have it almost as hard as the big guy had.  And that's
when I saw that the big guy had his camera phone pointed at me.  Number 3
rolled me over on my back and pushed my legs over his shoulders.  He told
me that that way their cum was sure to get even deeper into me.  4 took me
the same way and by that time I had been begging them not to get me
pregnant for so long that I was starting to believe it was possible.  I was
lost in my own fantasy and I loved every minute of it.  5 couldn't wait,
kneeled down and pushed his cock all the way into my throat.  As with most
of the guys I have known he seemed surprised that I could take it.  But he
didn't stay surprised for long.  He pushed himself up over me and began to
fuck my face almost as hard as his buddy was fucking my pussy.  The only
annoying thing was that his belt buckle kept hitting me in the chin every
time he came down.  When number 4 pulled out of me I heard the big one warn
number 5 not to cum in my mouth but save it for my pussy.  He tried I think
but it was already too late.  As soon as he pulled out of my mouth he
exploded all over my face.  I could have shielded my eyes if both of my
hands weren't buried between my thighs, the right one playing with their
cum and the left one rubbing my clit as I arched up in the air and came for
the hundredth time in front of them.

   Number 6 didn't even let me finish.  He grabbed what was left of my pig
tails and pulled me over to the urinal on my hands and knees.  The other 5
started laughing as he pulled me up and bent me over it.  With my skirt
over my waist, my hands on the sticky rim and my head just inches from the
back splash he pushed into me so hard that I banged into the porcelain.  He
didn't last very long.  I suppose because he had to wait for all of the
others he was too worked up that first time.  He lasted a lot longer when
he came back for seconds.  They all did.  I don't remember if they kept the
same order.  All I do remember is that the next two took me over the
urinal, pulling on my pig tails to keep my head up for the pictures.  The
next one pulled me back over to the cardboard where he and the next two
fucked me on my hands knees.  Actually I was probably down on my forearms
again.  I kept begging them to please stop cumming in me, that I didn't
want to get pregnant, knowing that they would only fuck me harder every
time I said it.

   When the last one pulled out of me I looked up to the see the legs of
the big guy.  He reached down, grabbed my left pig tail and dragged me into
the toilet stall.  He pulled me up so my waist was against the rim and
pushed me over it.  My knees weren't even touching the floor and I remember
feeling like I was in space as he pushed himself into me and kind of half
moaned and half sighed because he had finally found the perfect height for
fucking me.  When I heard that sigh I started to think that maybe he wasn't
as bad as I had thought.  (Don't even say it.) He stroked me 3 or 4 times
and then pulled out,

   "What kind of a girl lets 6 guys fuck her in an outhouse?"

   I remember thinking to myself `oh god, not another one with the
humiliating questions'.  But I knew what he wanted to hear.

   "A slut."

   He pushed back into me but kept fucking me slowly.  I knew he was
teasing me.  With my knees off of the floor like that I couldn't push back
against him and he knew it.  Even so I started climbing but as soon as he
sensed it he pulled out of me again.

   " And what kind of a girl lets 6 guys fuck her in an outhouse without
any condoms?"

   I didn't know what to say at that point.  The question was different so
I knew he wanted a different answer.  But I didn't know what to say.  He
spanked me and repeated his question.

   "A slut?"

   "Not just a slut.  A dirty little slut.  And you are by far the dirtiest
little slut that I have ever met."

   He pushed himself back into me and that time he didn't pull out. 
Instead he wrapped his hand even tighter around my pig tails, pulled me up
next to his face, forcing me to arch my back and hissed into my ear,

   "Do you know the best way to clean up a DIRTY little slut?  A swirly."

   Now no one can ever accuse me of leading a sheltered life but up until
then I had never even heard the word let alone knew what it meant.  But the
way the rest of the guys were laughing and high fiving behind him I knew it
that it wasn't going to be good.  He pushed me back down and started
fucking me again but he didn't stop pushing.  As my nose touched the water
I tried to push back against his hand.  I don't think he even felt the
effort.  In no time at all my entire head was under the water, my nose was
pressed against the bowl, and he was fucking me as hard as he did the first
time.  Just when I started to panic he flushed it, waited until all of the
water was gone and pulled me up over the bowl without losing a stroke.  He
fucked into me 5 or 6 times and then pulled me upright again.

   "What are you?"

   I thought I knew what he wanted to hear so I told him.

   "A dirty little slut."

   I could hear the guys laughing behind me but it barely registered as he
pushed me down and pressed my nose against the bowl for the second time. 
Just like the first time he fucked me really hard until I started to panic
and then flushed.  Each time he asked me the same question and each time I
gave him the answer I thought he wanted to hear.  His friends were almost
crying they were laughing so hard but I thought it was just because of what
he was doing to me.  Between their laughter and him fucking me so hard I
actually came the 5th time my nose touched the bowl.  He waited until I had
calmed down and pulled me up.  By then my blouse was completely soaked and
transparent.  He grabbed my left nipple, pulled my head around to face him
and his friends, grinned at me and said,

   "You are not very bright are you?"

   It wasn't until my head was under water for the 6th time that I finally
realized what the answer was.  He had said that the only way to clean up a
dirty slut was to give her a swirly.  He really let me struggle that last
time.  I didn't wait for him to pull me up and ask me the question again.
The water wasn't even gone before I was yelling,

   "I'm a clean slut!  I'm a clean slut!"

   He pulled out of me, spun me around so I was sitting on the floor facing
them all and looked down at me,

   "Yeah and you are possibly the dumbest clean slut in Missoula.  Do you
know what a circle jerk is?"

   Just like the swirly I had no idea what a circle jerk was.  He pulled me
over into the middle of the bathroom on my hands and knees and made me sit
up like a puppy with my cheeks on my calves.  While the box guy took his
turn at the door the rest of them gathered around me and pulled their cocks
out.  By the time they were through with me my face and hair were coated in
their cum and I had one last load in my cooter from the box guy.  When I
tried to wipe some of it out of eye the big guy grabbed my arm and ordered
me not to touch any of it until I got home.  He told me that way if my
boyfriend drove by me he would know that I couldn't even last one day
without being a lying, cheating, `dirty' little slut.  They told me to wait
until they got back to their truck because they didn't want anybody to see
me with them.

   As soon as they did I ran for the band shelter next to Beverly.  They
had to drive by of course.  Big guy was driving.  Box guy was in the front
seat with him and the other four were in the back.  All of them had
something nasty to say except for big guy.  He just honked his horn as he
turned left on Ronald and drove away.  By that time I really didn't care. I
knew I was a slut.  Calling me one in public like that just made me cream.
Two blocks later I was creaming for Brian across the street from the DQ and
2 minutes after that I was creaming harder than ever in front of Mr. 
Sanders' video camera.

   When I was through he put his video camera on top of one of the garbage
cans and told me to bend over the other one and look right into it.  I
thought I was going to get another spanking.  What I got was the 7th hard
cock of the day in my cookie.  When he was through he pulled me up by my
hair and spun me around,

   "You better get inside and wash that "SLUT" off of your forehead before
your mom gets home.  But leave the rest of it on."

   I still remember how my mouth dropped open when he said that.  A couple
of years before, I can't remember if it was when I was in the 5th or 6th
grade somebody convinced the Junior High school board that grades would go
up and behavior improve if we all had to wear the same uniforms to school.
Our school was the experiment.  It didn't last very long.  A year after we
graduated they stopped it when the parents started to complain about the
extra cost.  Starting in 7th grade we could only wear the school's plaid
skirts and white blouses to school.  It wasn't as bad as it sounds.  I did
like flashing my panties at the boys after all.  But I didn't want to do it
with those nasty tattoos on my thighs.  And I knew that the bright red
"COCKSUCKER" and "SKANK" were going to be at least somewhat visible through
my blouse.  I tried explaining that to him but he just grinned at me,

   "Candy, I don't really care.  I have plans for you this Saturday, so
when your mom asks you about it tonight act surprised.  And now my plans
include you looking just like this.  If you are that worried about it wear
a t-shirt under your blouse and keep your knees together for the first time
since you were 10."

   Then he spanked me once last time, told me to re-write them if they
faded in the shower and pushed me towards the house.  I remember my knees
feeling like jelly as I walked up the back steps.  It wasn't just the fear
that someone would see the graffiti that worried me.  He had said that he
had plans for me with it still there and I knew that couldn't be good.