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From: Bill Collins <BillHCollins@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Cheerleader's Torment Continued, Chapter 8 (nc, M/f)
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Date: Wed, 22 Sep 2004 02:10:02 -0400
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+++++++++++++++++++
I've been an enormous fan of the work of James Dawson for many years, 
especially his unfinished (to my knowledge) story "Cheerleader's 
Torment." I must stress: the following attempt at continuation is merely 
an homage. The characters, the plot and even much of the style all 
belong to Mr. Dawson.

Chapter 8 picks up where the story left off (way back in 1996, I 
believe), and while there is a brief recap, I suggest that you read the 
rest of the story, still available on the James Dawson Tribute Page: 
http://members.tripod.com/~Monsieur_Ed/ct.htm
If the response is favorable, more chapters will follow.

Finally, the following story contains content that is not only adult in 
nature, but potentially quite offensive. Some people find such things 
sexually exciting, but if you find you are not one of them, I encourage 
you to stop reading.

-Bill
++++++++++++++++++++



CHEERLEADER'S TORMENT CONTINUED

by Bill H. Collins

==================================

Chapter Eight - The next morning

Inevitably, Kate had trouble getting to sleep that night.

She'd been surprised when Mike had led her to her own room. "Sleep well, 
Kate. We've got a big day tomorrow," he'd said. Perhaps he felt that he 
couldn't guarantee her safety for an entire night in a room with the 
other guys. Her insides convulsed at the thought: as terrible as he was, 
Mike was still her only protection against the more mercurial appetites 
of Jack Wilcox, Tom, and Ken.

Even the dreaded "photo shoot" had been postponed. Citing the waning 
sunlight and a need for more film, Mike had simply snapped a few 
pictures of Kate with the hotelman's fresh semen dripping down her chest 
and left her alone in her room.

Dazed, she sunk down on the corner of her hotel bed and let her tears 
flow down her cheeks. Finally, however, she began to move. Making sure 
no one was lurking under the bed or staring through the windows or 
waiting to burst in through the door, she began to strip off the horrors 
of the day.

First, she took off her mangled bikini top, which had come on and off 
numerous times, exposing her bare breasts to strangers. Then, she took a 
damp towel ("No shower. Not tonight," was Mike's last minute command. 
Even in his absence, she found herself terrified to disobey) and wiped 
away the gobs of old man cum dotting her torso, nearly retching with 
every dab. She peeled away her jeans and finally her soaking panties. 
She put on a clean pair of underwear (Her only other set. She hoped 
these would last!) and a long t-shirt that came down to mid-thigh. At 
last, checking to make sure the door was still locked, she climbed into bed.

Once under the covers, though, she found herself tormented by her 
predicament: humiliation about what had already transpired and fear 
about what the morning would bring.

Haunting scenes kept playing themselves over and over in Kate's mind, 
keeping her wide awake:

Showing her bare breasts off to that crowd at the rest stop

Being bent over the hood of Mike's car, having her jeans and panties 
pulled down and being given a spanking right in front of those tourists 
and that group of skater kids

The scene in the diner: being forced to stroke that ketchup bottle for 
the amusement of Auggie's patrons. The torture of having to once again 
expose her breasts, this time to the jeers of those dirty, ugly old men. 
Once again being given a humiliating public spanking. The feeling of her 
bare bottom being put on display and covered in ice water, and, oh god, 
the sickening sensation of Auggie's greased finger slipping briefly 
inside her asshole.

She imagined she could still feel her anus tingling from the violation, 
and she burst into fresh tears at the thought.

What would they force her to do next? How far would they go? Half-formed 
plans of escape would periodically rise to the surface of her insomniac 
mind before giving way one after the other to despair and new fits of 
sobbing.

Kate tossed and turned in this state for many hours before, somehow, 
physical and emotional exhaustion overcame the frantic cacophony of her 
thoughts, and she fell asleep.
---

  "Wakey wakey, Kate."

Kate let out a gentle "mmmm," drifting gently into wakefulness, drowsily 
thinking herself back in her own bed at home.

This blissful ignorance was brought to an abrupt and cruel end with the 
first sight her sleep-crusted eyes encountered: Mike's face was 
suspended not three inches from her own.

Kate let out a scream and nearly fell off the bed. Mike simply laughed.

"Just a little joke, Kate. Don't take it the wrong way."

He inched towards her and put his hand on her thigh. She shivered in 
revulsion. How long had he been sitting there, watching her sleep? How 
long had she lay there, unconscious, while her tormentor silently gazed 
at her helpless body? Despite all that had happened, this new invasion 
frightened her.

"Time to get up. The sun's almost up, and I want you to get a shower in 
before we start the morning's shoot. Make sure you blow dry your hair 
and get it combed and brushed out all pretty. I hope you brought your 
makeup?"

She nodded silently. Perhaps all Mike wanted were a few glamour shots, 
maybe some in her bikini or that slutty black dress. Yesterday, she 
would have recoiled at the thought of posing in either of these outfits, 
but today the prospect was a relief.

"So get yourself cleaned up, get your face on or whatever, and come join 
us by the pool."

He turned to go. She started to breathe again.

"Oh, I almost forgot. See that bag on the dresser there? We picked you 
up a razor and some shaving lotion when we went out for more film. I'd 
like you to shave."

Her heart skipped a beat, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"And I mean everything, Kate. Completely hairless. From the neck down. 
Remember: what's our key word for this weekend?"

There was a terrible pause before she managed to croak out: "O... Obedience."

"Good. Now, you've got 30 minutes to be at the pool. Or there will be 
consequences."

She was left alone once again. She wanted to get up and lock the door, 
but she'd learned this morning that it was useless. If Mike or any of 
his cronies wanted to stroll in and peer at her while she was showering, 
there was nothing she could do to stop them.

Her eyes settled on bag with the razor and lotion. What was she going to 
do? Kate had been regularly shaving her legs since she was 14, but Mike 
had made his intentions quite clear: he wanted her to shave not just her 
legs and armpits but her sensitive pubic region.

Could such a thing even be done with just a razor? She felt herself 
blush, though there was no one around to see it. What if someone found 
out? What if her parents found out? Trembling, she opened up the 
package: a pink, women's Gillete. It would be far worse, she told 
herself, if her parents were to see video of her doing a strip show in a 
diner and letting herself be spanked with a spatula.

She gritted her teeth and stepped into the bathroom. After turning on 
the hot water, pulling her t-shirt over her head and pulling her panties 
down under her feet, she stood in front of the mirror to inspect the 
auburn colored bush that covered her crotch. It was not very thick, or 
very long, but it was still going to present a technical hurdle to 
remove, as well as an emotional one.

Kate finished up her legs before even considering moving farther north. 
When she did, she took a handful of the shaving cream and lathered it 
over her privates.

Once, several months ago, Kate had experimented with pleasuring herself 
in the shower, a fact of which she was deathly ashamed, and the process 
of caressing her nether regions with this moist goo brought back these 
same feelings of guilt and self-loathing. Of course, such sensations 
were only exacerbated by the knowledge that she would soon undoubtedly 
be forced to expose her newly-bare womanhood to the leering gazes of her 
four captors.

Her hands were trembling, and she had trouble holding the razor, but 
Kate somehow managed to press the blade against her pubic mound, just 
above the top of her slit, and drag it upward, painfully pulling clumps 
of hair out in the process. Still shaking, she repeated this procedure 
many times, shaving closer and closer to the skin and taking her strokes 
closer and closer to the sensitive apparatus of her vagina.

When the job was finished, she ran her palm across the bare surface, 
distracted for a brief moment by the foreign sensation of hairlessness.

---

Kate took one step out of the steamy bathroom and stopped dead.

All four guys were lounging around the hotel room, staring at her. Mike, 
who was seated at the desk, rose to confront her, arms crossed.

"I said 30 minutes, Kate. It's been 45. That's not good."

Terror shot down Kate's spine like an electric shock. Jack Wilcox shot 
her an evil smile.

"I- I- I'm sorry," she tried to explain, wrapping her towel more tightly 
around her body.

"She was probably playing with herself in the shower," jeered Tom, his 
eyes roving across her naked, still-damp shoulders. She flushed at the 
crudity of this accusation.

"Is that true, Kate?" asked Mike. "Did you keep us waiting just so you 
could fiddle yourself a little bit?"

Her heart had sunk into her stomach. "Please... it t- takes... shaving," she 
began to stammer.

"Ah, that's right. You had a little hair removal project to attend to. 
Let's see how that turned out. Put your hands on your head."

Kate opened her mouth to speak, but no sounds came out.

"Obedience, Kate."

Shakily, Kate relaxed her grip on her towel and placed her hands on top 
of her head, all the while looking at Mike with her big, watery eyes, 
silently begging him not to humiliate her once again.

Mike walked over to her and gently loosened her towel. As it unraveled 
and fell to the floor, she let out a sob, but kept her position. Mike 
knelt down and put his face level with her pussy.

"Say, this isn't a half bad job, Kate. You must have done this before."

The boys all snickered. Then, to Kate's horror, Mike reached out his 
hand and began to feel the smooth skin of her hairless crotch.

"Spread your legs apart," he ordered.

As Kate complied, he began to stroke her inner thighs while the other 
boys sat silently, shifting in their seats.

"Now, I want you to make sure not to move, Kate. Ok?"

Mike's tongue snaked out of his mouth, and the tip brushed lightly 
against her clit. She shivered uncontrollably.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Mike rose to his feet. Ken 
checked to see who it was.

"It's the hotel guy," he called back.

Mike smirked.

"Let him in."

"Oh god. Please, no... Please..." Kate begged.

But it was too late. The door had already swung open, and the gangly old 
clerk stood there stunned, staring at beautiful naked figure in front of 
him.

"Uh... Did you guys... uh... need...?" He couldn't even finish his sentence. He 
could do nothing but gawk at the 17-year-old cheerleader, who just last 
night had given him a public handjob, standing completely nude with her 
hands above her head, her skin still glistening from the shower.

"I'm glad you stopped by, Mr. O'Reilly. See, Kate here's been having 
some trouble with punctuality, and I was hoping you could help us teach 
her a little discipline."

"Well now... huh huh huh..." panted Mr. O'Reilly.

"How is it that you usually get punished, Kate?"

It seemed that all the blood in her body rushed to her face. "A 
spanking," she whispered.

"That's right, Kate. So if you do exactly what you're told and 
cooperate, you'll get another couple of slaps to that pretty little 
peach of yours. No big deal. Hell, you've already done it twice. If you 
make it tough, though, things may get a lot uglier. Mr. O'Reilly, why 
don't you have a seat on the edge of the bed right there? Kate, lay down 
across his lap."

Stunned, O'Reilly complied. Kate gulped, trying to swallow her fear and 
humiliation. It was bad enough when Mike was doing the spanking, but now 
she was going to be displaying her bottom for the pleasure of some 
crusty old hotel worker. Somehow, she managed to walk over to the bed.

"Good Kate. Now just lean all the way over his lap."

Kate complied. Her feet now dangled off the bed, but could not quite 
touch the floor. Her torso lay across the covers, and her ass was lifted 
into the air, the highest point on her body, on top of this man's lap. 
She began to cry again.

"Now, Mr. O'Reilly's being very good to help you out here, Kate. So I 
want you to thank him."

"Th- thank you," Kate choked out between sobs.

"Oh, it's ... huh... it's my pleasure, sweetheart.... Huh... god damn you've got 
a nice ass."

"Let 'er rip, Mr. O." Mike instructed.

O'Reilly brought his hand back and gave Kate's left cheek a nice, 
resounding SLAP!

"Now, come on. You can do better than that," Mike urged.

This time, O'Reilly brought his palm down much harder, twice in a row, 
right in the center of Kate's bottom. SMACK! SMACK!

Kate let out a cry, and her hand instinctively reached back to protect 
herself. O'Reilly was having none of this, however. He grabbed Kate's 
wrist violently and pinned it to her back. He then commenced to let 
forth a volley of spanks. SLAP! SMACK! SLAP!

Kate's legs kicked up into the air. SLAP! SMACK! SMACK! SLAP! Her crying 
became quite vocal with the violence of the assault, but even through 
the loud percussion coming from her ass and her own wailing, she heard 
the faint click of camera shutters and looked up to see, once again, 
that her humiliating ordeal was being recorded for posterity.

SMACK! SLAP! SMACK! SMACK! The relentlessness of this over-the-knee hand 
spanking was beginning to cause more physical pain than even Mike's 
spatula had inflicted. Even worse than the pain, though, was the 
sickening sensation from underneath that Kate was becoming more and more 
conscious of: she could feel the bulge of the old man's raging erection 
bumping up and down against her naked crotch.

"Please," Kate pleaded, "please, please, stop."

"That's probably enough for now, Mr. O"

SLAP! SMACK! SMACK! O'Reilly gave her a last couple of good hard slaps 
and then stopped.

"Good. Now, there's one last thing. Stand up, Kate."

O'Reilly release her wrist, and she did as she was told. Her bottom was 
bright red.

"Now I want you to sit in his lap, like he was Santa Claus."

Kate gulped back another sob. What was she going to have to do now? The 
thought of sitting nude on this man's lap, having to feel his erection 
against her naked ass repulsed her. Still, what choice did she have? 
Stealing a quick glance and Tom and his camcorder, she gingerly lowered 
herself down, the pain from her bottom making it difficult.

"Now, as a little thank you to Mr. O'Reilly for your lesson, I think you 
should give him one of your famous lap dances."

Kate stared at him, uncomprehendingly.

"Wh- what? I don't... I don't know how."

"Bullshit! You're going to grind your ass against his cock! You want me 
to draw you a blueprint, you dumb little whore?"

Kate had never been called something like that before, and Mike's sudden 
fury frightened her speechless. Still, she didn't move.

"You just gonna sit there, Kate? Maybe it's time to start duplicating 
some video tape and getting some photos developed so everyone can see 
what you've been up to this weekend. I'm getting sick and tired of this 
fucking bashful virgin routine."

Trembling all over, Kate began to rock back and forth on O'Reilly's lap. 
The old man groaned and leaned back slightly. She could feel his cock 
rubbing against her through his pants.

Suddenly, O'Reilly grew much more confident. He leaned forward and 
grabbed Kate around her naked torso, hugging her to him. She screamed in 
surprise and tried to pull away, but his grip was stronger than it looked.

One arm was wrapped around her stomach and his hand clutched her right 
hip. The other hand was occupied fondling her left breast. She could 
hear him panting in her ear as he forcibly mashed her body into his.

They were now bouncing up and down on the bed, his crotch humping her 
ass and his hand squeezing her breast tightly. She squirmed, trying to 
get away, but this only made their dance more erotic.

She looked up at Mike, begging him to intervene, but he was busy 
directing his cameramen.

Finally, after several violent thrusts, O'Reilly stopped, and Kate 
realized with growing nausea what must have happened. He allowed her to 
roll off his lap, and she lay face down on the bed sobbing into her hands.

Clearly embarrassed, O'Reilly stumbled over to Mike and they exchanged a 
few words. Some panted remarks of gratitude were all that Kate could 
make out, but suddenly Mike laughed and said, "sure, sure."

"Don't move a muscle, Kate," Mike warned as she felt the hotel man walk 
up behind her.

"Here's a little tip for you, honey," O'Reilly told her.

He reached into his wallet, pulled out a twenty dollar bill, and stuffed 
it in between Kate's ass cheeks. She let out a groan of shame.

"You're one of the best damn hookers I've ever seen." And with that, he 
walked carefully out of the room, no doubt to find a change of pants.

"You can keep that, Kate," Mike laughed. "Now get into that black dress, 
put on some makeup and meet us out by the pool."

All four guys filed out, leaving Kate alone, face down on the bed with a 
twenty dollar bill protruding from her ass, like the cheapest of tramps.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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