Toying With Tiffany
Ch. 1 - 4

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TOYING WITH TIFFANY (MMMM/f teen, nc, humil.) Ch.1 - 4 by Dr. Wu

Warning: This story is of an adult sexual nature. If you are under 21, you are forbidden from reading it. Go somewhere else.

Important mumbo jumbo: This story is copyright 1999 by Dr. Wu. It may be freely distributed on any newsgroup or any part of the Internet where access is completely free and unhindered. It may not be archived or be made part of any site that charges for access in any form.

The usual blah-blah: This story is complete and utter fiction. No one bears any relation to anyone real. In real life, anyone who tried to do any of the stuff described in this story would be guilty of both serious felonies and major sins, and would deserve punishment. But this is a fantasy world, so enjoy.

Comments: Dr. Wu has now successfully posted and re-posted the entire 13 chapters. Your comments are always welcome, but please do not ask me to e-mail anything.

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CHAPTER ONE: THE ONE WITH THE ANTS IN THE PANTS

Tiffany Daniels squirmed in her seat. Her delectable 16-year-old ass slid forward and back, forward and back, rubbing against the wood. As she rubbed her butt against the seat, she crossed and uncrossed her legs.

Tiffany Daniels, high school junior, cheerleader, princess tease, was antsy. Very antsy indeed.

She swung her right leg over her left, crossing them in mid-thigh, and squeezed the muscles in her legs. She scooted back an inch in her desk chair. Nothing she did revealed the terrible itching in her sweet young pussy, the itch that spread deep up into her virgin asshole. She was afraid that if she wriggled much more, her embarrassingly short skirt, which was already climbing up her thighs, would ride up high enough to expose her white panties in front of her teacher and all her classmates.

Mr. Green, her English teacher, was droning on about Emily Dickinson in front of the class. Tiffany was too pre-occupied with the uncomfortable feeling in her pussy and ass to notice how often Green was looking her way. He didn't stop talking, but he was keeping his eye on the writhing youngster.

What he saw was one of the prettiest, sexiest young girls at Daniels High School (named for Godfrey Daniels, Tiffany's grandfather, making her one of the town's blue bloods, and one of its biggest snobs). Even in days past, when Tiffany had dressed like a typical teenaged girl, she had been a vision of pure desirability. She stood five feet seven inches, weighed 115 pounds, and had blonde wavy hair that fell down over her shoulders and gorgeous blue eyes. She had sprouted a fantastic set of breasts over the last couple of years, perfect grapefruit-sized beauties that stood out from her chest with the arrogance of youth. Capped with the kind of large pink nipples that you usually only saw in girlie magazines. Her slender waist flared out into rounded hips, and from there on down she was nothing but long, tanned legs. Her cheerleading kept her fit. Her family's money kept her tanned, with regular trips to a tanning salon, and exquisitely groomed with regular trips to the best hair stylist in town.

She had been told, frequently, by boys at school that she resembled the tennis player Anna Kournikova. She figured they were just saying that to get some pussy - teenaged boys would say or do anything to get some pussy, particularly some as wonderful as Tiffany's - but it was true, there was a resemblance.

But today, Tiffany was not dressed like the other girls. Just about everybody, even the rich bitches like Tiff, wore jeans, sneakers and T- shirts to school. It might as well have been the official school uniform at Daniels High. Tiffany, however, wore a white blouse that was about one size too small for her, so that her breasts pushed the front of the blouse out, calling more attention to them. A plaid pleated skirt was the traditional Catholic schoolgirl look, but this skirt was much shorter than any Catholic school would ever allow. It fell only a few inches below the cheeks of her ass, and that's why she was so concerned about it riding up as she wiggled in her seat. On her feet, she wore little white anklet socks and white high-heeled sandals made up of many small criss- crossing straps.

It was an outfit that virtually screamed "Look at me! Look at what a sexy little 16-year-old tease I am!" Which was the idea. But not Tiffany's idea.

Tiffany was mortified by being forced to wear the too-tight blouse and the too-short skirt. But she had forgotten about her deep shame for the moment as the unbearable, agonizing itching in her pussy suddenly became even worse.

"MMMMMMffff!" moaned Tiffany, biting her lip, and rubbing her ass against the chair for all it was worth.

"Miss Daniels, is something wrong?" asked Mr. Green, interrupting his lecture. He stared at her. The entire English class stared as well.

"No sir, I'm OK," the suffering teenager squeaked out.

"Then why are you squirming so much in your seat and making noise?" asked Green. His eyes glittered with a touch of evil.

"I'm sorry," said Tiffany. "I'll be good."

"Stand up, please," ordered Mr. Green. He gave her a hard look, willing her to get to her feet.

Reluctantly, Tiffany slid out of her seat and stood beside her desk. Every male eye in the classroom was riveted either on her naked thighs (the leg men), or her nipples, which pushed against the thin fabric of her top.

"Miss Daniels, which poem are we discussing?"

Tiffany blushed. She had no idea. She had been so pre-occupied by the feelings in her young crotch that she had tuned the teacher out for the entire class.

"Mr. Green? Please? I don't feel well," Tiffany said, her voice taking on the pleading tone of a little girl.

"And what exactly is the matter, Miss Daniels? Do you have ants in your pants?"

The whole class burst into laughter. Tiffany turned crimson red in shame.

Because the truth was, she did have ants in her pants. She had hundreds of ants crawling all over her pussy, down between her legs, along her ass crack. She had ants up deep inside her pussy, and ants deep up inside her rectum.

And the rule for the day was, she could not take them out. Couldn't even take her panties off to scratch. She had to suffer, all day long, both the physical discomfort of the nasty little insects violating all of her private parts, and the psychological pain of knowing that she was not allowed to do anything about.

Green waited for an answer. Tiffany wondered: did he know? She stammered, unable to answer.

"Well, if you won't even give me the respect of an answer to a simple question like whether you have ants in your pants, would you please come up to the front of the room?" Green asked, politely but firmly. Tiffany didn't move. Her heart was pounding like mad.

"Now, Miss Daniels!" barked the English teacher. "Or it will be detention for you today after school!"

Detention? thought Tiffany. God, that was the last thing she could handle. Reluctantly, she walked to the front of the room.

"I believe you know the spot," Mr. Green said, and gestured at the blackboard. There was a chalk circle drawn there, and whenever a student misbehaved, Green ordered them to stand with their nose pressed to the circle and their back to their fellow students. Tiffany had never been singled out for this humiliating punishment, and on this of all days! She didn't know how she could bear it.

"Circle or detention, Miss Daniels," Green said coldly. Suddenly she knew, somehow, that Green was in on it, that he knew what the principal had done to her that morning. How he'd poured honey all over her pussy and ass, parted the tender labia with his rough fingers and dribbled the honey deep into her pussy, then parted her ass the same way and applied honey there. How he'd then pulled a jar of ants from his desk drawer and dumped them all over her middle. How he'd handed her the white panties, and after she put them on, had taken a roll of heavy-duty white duct tape and firmly taped the top of the panties to her skin, all the way around her waist, 360 degrees, then done the same with each leg band, taping each to her luscious thighs. The ants were trapped inside the panties, but they didn't mind. They had honey to feast on.

The principal, Mr. White, had told the cheerleader that she would keep the ants in her panties all through the school day, and only be allowed to take them out at the end. If she tried to get the ants out before the final bell, the next day he would repeat the exercise, using fire ants instead of regular ants. Fire ants, Tiffany knew, would bite her most tender places repeatedly and be a hellish agony far worse than the tickling of the regular ants.

Green knew about the ants, Tiffany thought. And if he knew, detention would be far, far worse than the chalk circle. It would mean she'd have to keep the ants in her pants after the final bell.

Slowly, Tiffany walked to the front of the room, as the guys snickered and watched the sway of her short, pleated skirt moving back and forth across the ass they all wanted more than anything in the world. Her cheeks burned. She felt as if she was on the verge of tears, but told herself she would not cry. She reached the blackboard and pressed her nose into the circle. In order to do so, she had to stand so close that her 36-C breasts mashed into the blackboard as well. She worried that she was getting yellow chalk marks all over her blouse right over her breasts, which would call even more attention to them the rest of the day. But she did not dare take her nose out of the circle.

Mr. Green went back to his lecture on Emily Dickinson, but no one was listening. The boys were all ogling Tiffany, wondering why she had started dressing like such a slut. The girls looked at her with various mixtures of envy for her good looks and malice for her past bitchiness.

"Nice ass, Tiff!" she heard a boy yell. She couldn't recognize the voice, but her face felt so hot. She didn't dare look around and let them see her.

Tiffany felt the itching start again, deep, deep insider her rectum. Several ants were working their way up further and further. She wanted more than anything to rip her panties down, even there in front of everyone, and plunge her fingers up her own ass, crushing the ants, plucking them out. But with every eye on her, that was impossible. Even if she had been alone, she knew what would happen if she didn't keep the panties in place all day.

So Tiffany Daniels suffered. And waited in agony. There was still half an hour to go in English class.

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CHAPTER TWO: THE ONE WITH THE FLASHBACK

Tiffany stood with her nose in the chalk circle, her large, firm teen breasts pushing against the blackboard, her back to the class. She could feel the lustful gazes of the young men, all 16 years old just like she was, and as full of hormones as 16-year-old boys can be, staring at her long tanned legs. Those legs were even more on display than usual, as the skirt she was wearing - had been forced to wear that morning - was about an inch shorter than her normal cheerleading skirt. She knew that if she were to bend even slightly at the waist, it would ride up high enough for everyone to see her white panties. Her thighs were smooth, the inner surfaces freshly shaved, her calves shapely.

Tiffany Daniels was a good girl. She rarely got in trouble. Made mostly B's, occasionally an A from a male teacher who graded her up just because he enjoyed having such a sexy girl in his class, occasionally a C from a jealous female teacher. She never got detention, had not tried drugs, and was still a virgin, although she had had a couple of close calls with boys who had pushed hard during make-out sessions. She had let one such boy, Brad, get as far as a hand down her panties and a finger teasing her teen pussy lips, and it felt better than anything had ever felt in her life, but she didn't want to get carried away, and it stopped the necking session, leaving Brad with a case of blue balls.

Brad had only told a couple of friends, but that was enough to get Tiffany branded a "prick tease" around Daniels High School. That, and the normal cruelty of teenagers. She exuded the confidence of the young, rich, good-looking teenaged girl, the kind who got out on the basketball floor every Friday night in her tight cheerleading uniform, and knew that every male cock in the arena was twitching over her. It gave her a feeling of power, and even, sometimes, made her pussy a little juicy, just thinking about how horny all the boys were for her.

Well, she wasn't feeling very powerful today. Powerless, in fact. She felt an ant crawl across her clit. It was a maddening tickle, and made her slightly horny. God, what a slut, she thought to herself, I've got an insect crawling on my clitty and I'm getting off on it.

One little mistake, she thought. I cheated on one lousy little test, and now I here I am with my panties taped to my body and my pussy full of ants. God damn that Mr. White and the rest of them.

Her mind drifted back three days earlier, when her ordeal began.

Tiffany had been in algebra class with Mr. Brown, taking a test. She had been so busy with cheerleading lately, and making signs for the big homecoming game, that she had neglected her studies. So she had made up a tiny cheat sheet on a piece of paper the size of a matchbox with the half-dozen formulas she needed but hadn't memorized. When it looked like Mr. Brown was busy grading papers at his desk, she had pulled the cheat sheet out and placed it beside her test and gone to work.

The 16-year-old beauty was so engrossed in the test, her head bent low over the paper, that she hadn't realized Brown had gotten up and was walking through the room until he was standing right over her. He put his hand down on the cheat sheet. Tiffany looked up, fear in her bright blue eyes.

"See me after class, please," Mr. Brown said. He picked up the cheat sheet and walked away. The other students hadn't even realized what had happened.

When the bell rang, the students filed by Brown's desk, dropping their test papers. Tiffany lingered. When the last student was gone, Mr. Brown shut the classroom door.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Tiffany?" he asked. His dark eyes burrowed directly into hers.

The young girl trembled. She didn't know what to do or say.

"Oh, please, sir, I'm so sorry," she blurted out. "I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to what?" Mr. Brown asked.

"I didn't mean to cheat on the test."

"Oh really?" he said sarcastically. "And how did that cheat sheet in your handwriting get on your desk if you didn't mean to?"

"Oh, please, oh God," Tiffany burbled, almost starting to hyperventilate. Brown noticed approvingly how her sweater was rising and falling rapidly, thrust out by her heaving bosoms as she gulped in air.

"You've already said you're sorry," Brown said. "So just take that last little step and tell me what you did."

"I I I I cheated, sir. Oh please don't flunk me!"

"You cheated on my algebra test, Tiffany Daniels?" repeated Mr. Brown.

"Yes," she said in a tiny voice. "I cheated on the test." Brown opened a desk drawer and pulled out a small tape recorded. He clicked rewind for a second, and Tiffany's voice filled the room, admitting her transgression.

Tiffany suddenly felt sick.

"Why did you tape that?" she asked.

"Evidence," Brown said simply.

Tiffany didn't like the sound of this at all. And she liked the rest of the conversation even less.

"I'm going to give you a choice, Tiffany," her math teacher said. "I can take this cheat sheet and this tape recording, and you, down to the principal's office. There, we can call your parents. When your parents come in, we'll tell them you're getting an F in algebra this semester and why. And we'll remind you of the school rule that any F means you cannot participate in any extra-curricular activities, meaning you'll be kicked off the cheerleading squad as of this afternoon."

Brown took a deep breath. It was time to play the card. "Orrrrrrr," he continued, "we can work out an alternative punishment. You can meet me tonight at this address. Your parents won't know, you'll get an A in math, you'll stay a cheerleader."

Tiffany had a feeling that the meeting involved something sexual. She felt nauseated, felt like she wanted to cry. She was being blackmailed, but she had no choice.

"I'll meet you tonight, Mr. Brown," she said timidly.

"I liked it better when you called me sir," he said sternly. "Let's stick with that."

"Yes sir," the blonde beauty said. Her knees were trembling, and she was on the verge of tears.

At 8 p.m., Tiffany knocked on the door at the address Mr. Brown had given her. It was a nondescript apartment complex on the outskirts of town, and when Brown opened the door, Tiffany saw that the apartment itself was as plain as could be. Nothing on the walls, minimal furniture, no trace that a person really lived here.

"Is this where you live, sir?" she asked, remembering to address him the way he had requested.

"Oh goodness no, Tiffany," he said politely. "This is just a little place I rent on the side."

He studied the 16-year-old cutie. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore little makeup, but she was still a knockout. She wore khaki pants and a long-sleeved navy T-shirt from Abercrombie and Fitch. Brown could tell she had tried to make herself as plain and unsexy as possible. He'd soon fix that, he thought.

"Come in, have a seat," he said, and gestured to the couch. "Can I fix you a drink?"

"Like a Coke?" Tiffany said nervously. Her heart was hammering, her bountiful breasts heaving again under the shirt. She had to get control of herself, she thought.

"No, a real drink," Mr. Brown said. "Scotch and water, perhaps?"

"Uh, sure," said Tiffany. "I mean, I'd like that, please, sir." Tiffany wasn't a drinker, but she wanted to play along with her math teacher. Plus if she could somehow get evidence that he had offered a 16- year-old student alcohol, she could counter-blackmail him and maybe get out of this jam.

Brown went into the kitchen, poured Scotch over ice, added a dollop of water, and then his own little modest addition. He poured a powdered mix out of a baggie into the unsuspecting girl's drink. It contained half a dose of GBH, a tranquilizer that was another version of a "Roofie," or date-rape drug, mixed with half a dose of Ecstasy, the tripping drug used at raves. Even together, the dosages would not knock Tiffany out, just give her a mellow buzz, a feeling of being disconnected from what was growing on. Brown hoped it would also make her horny and make her highly suggestible.

The cheerleader sipped her drink, and Brown his, which was undoctored. To relax her, he asked about cheerleading, about her other classes, about where she wanted to go to college. Tiffany drank nervously, and answered, and began to think that maybe her math teacher didn't want to fuck her after all. Maybe he was just lonely and wanted to talk, she thought.

"That was tasty," she said after she had finished the Scotch. "May I please use the bathroom, sir?"

"Sure," Brown said. "It's right down this hall."

The teenager stood up, and suddenly her head began to swim as the drugs took effect. Her legs felt wobbly, her tongue was thick in her mouth, and her whole body was tingling in a strange way. She quickly sat back down.

"I don't feel good, Mr. Brown," she said pitifully.

"Oh you're fine, Tiffany, just fine," the scheming teacher reassured her. "Just not used to drinking Scotch, I imagine." He got up from his chair and sat down next to her on the couch. He continued to talk to her in a low, reassuring voice.

Tiffany felt so strange. Everything was swirly. She was very aware of her body. Her nipples seemed to be more sensitive - she could feel them pushing against the inside of her bra. Her pussy felt warm and open. Her limbs were numb and heavy. She felt hot and flushed. She could hear Mr. Brown's voice, talking, talking. It seemed to anchor her in all the confusion.

"I feel hot," she told the lecherous teacher.

"Let me see - do you have a fever?" He put his palm on her forehead and applied a little pressure. Tiffany leaned back, her head against the back of the couch, and shut her eyes.

"Yeah, you're really feeling warm, sweetheart," Mr. Brown said. "Is your heart beating fast?"

"Oooh, God yes," said Tiffany. Even with her eyes closed, she felt the room spinning, and the tingling was increasing.

"We'd better cool you down," Brown said. "Let's get you out of those clothes."

Oh God! thought Tiffany in the part of her brain that was still functioning. He's trying to get me naked! But she couldn't believe when she heard her voice say, as if from a distance, "OK."

Brown pulled her arms over her head, and pulled the T-shirt up over them, exposing her white lacy bra. He quickly undid the front clasp, exposing her teenaged breasts, leaving her naked from the waist up.

When the air hit Tiffany's nipples, they instantly sprang to life and became erect, jutting out like little erasers. God, they feel so good and tingly, Tiffany thought.

Meanwhile, Brown leaned over and unlaced her tennis shoes, pulling them off. He lifted her ass up off the couch and somehow quickly pulled her pants and panties down together. 16-year-old Tiffany Daniels, the virgin cheerleader, was now wearing only her white knee socks.

"Here, lie back, Tiffany, you'll feel better," Brown purred. She stretched out. Everything seemed so strange, like it was happening to her but not happening to her.

She heard Brown's voice. It sounded so soothing. "Are you feeling tingly?" he asked. "Are you very aware of your body and how it feels?"

"Oh God, yesssss," she moaned.

"I want you to touch your pussy," Mr. Brown said in a low, commanding voice, and placed her right hand on top of the blonde curls. "I want you to play with it. The more you play with it, the better you'll feel." His voice had a hypnotic quality, and Tiffany obeyed.

She was no longer in a strange apartment with her math teacher. In Tiffany's mind, there was only the male voice telling her what to do, and the the strange but increasingly wonderful way her young body felt. She used her fingers to pry open her lips, and began to rub her clitoris through its little hood.

"Mmmmmm" she moaned. She was oblivious to everything except the warmth spreading out from her young pussy.

Brown let the drugs, his own suggestions and the girl's growing horniness work their own magic. He got up and rearranged Tiffany's legs, putting one leg high on the back of the couch, placing the other foot on the floor. The effect was to spread her legs wide apart, which wasn't difficult for a girl used to doing the splits as a cheerleader. It also pulled her pussy lips wider apart, exposing more of a special place.

Brown went into the kitchen and brought back an armful of stuff, which he carefully arranged on the coffee table in front of the sofa. The bottle of Scotch sat next to Tiffany's empty glass. He pulled out a Ziploc bag of pot and several rolled joints, and scattered them on the table. He also laid down a mirror with several lines of cocaine laid out.

Tiffany, her eyes closed, her head thrown back, her right hand working furiously on her young, throbbing clit, was blissfully unaware of what he was doing.

"Feeeels so goooood," she purred. The dazed and confused girl continued to masturbate as the combination of drugs took her further and further away from reality. She felt as if there was a river of warmth flowing up from her crotch, up her torso, caressing her breasts with their erect nipples, up her neck and straight into her brain.

She was completely unaware of the tiny, high-pitched whir of the digital video camcorder recording her every move. The Daniels High School principal, Roger White, was sitting in a closet across the room from the masturbating cheerleader, pointing the expensive camera through a broken slat, capturing her every move. His erection strained against the front of his pants, and he thought how nice it would be to get out of this damn closet, whip out his massive prick and plunge it into her boiling twat. All in good time, Roger, he thought.

John Brown, her math teacher, saw that Tiffany was approaching her orgasm. Her breathing was getting ragged, her large breasts rode up and down, her fingers flew. Her pink clit had now completely escaped its protective hood and was swollen with lust.

"Uhhhhhhhhh. Uhhhhhhh," Tiffany groaned, lost in her own druggy world of sensual pleasure and self-gratification.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" Mr. Brown asked softly, his lips only inches away from Tiffany's ear.

"Ohhh, yessssss," she shuddered as her climax approached. Her young pussy was now slick with her own sweet juices, and her inner labia gaped open, exposing the redness within.

"I want you to listen very carefully, Tiffany," Mr. Brown addressed her. "In order for you to be able to cum, I'm going to have to cum, too. That's the only way you can cum tonight is to make me cum."

Tiffany's eyes flew open in panic, and she saw her math teacher standing next to her head, his trousers down to his ankles, his huge erection bobbing a few inches from her face. It was angry and purple, its head swollen.

She knew she should be afraid of the large organ, and what Mr. Brown was asking.

"Close your eyes, sweetie," Mr. Green said. "And open your mouth. Doesn't your pussy feel so good?"

Tiffany obeyed. Her young lips parted, almost of their own accord. John Brown moved forward and slipped the bulbous head of his cock between her lips.

"Now suck on it, Tiffany."

A tiny part of the drug-addled girl's brain knew this was wrong, but she didn't have the strength to object or fight. It was so much easier to just do what he said, and keep fingering her pussy. She began to suck on the teacher's dick, and he pushed a couple more inches into her mouth.

For the next few minutes, the room was quiet. There was the slight whir of the video camera, the slurping sound of Brown's cock as it sawed back and forth into the cheerleader's luscious mouth, and the wet, sloppy sound as she frantically rubbed her clit, which slid around in circles in the lubrication of her pussy juices.

"OK, I'm going to cum now," Mr. Brown told her, his breathing labored, as he felt his scrotum tighten and his balls prepare to release a massive load into the young girl's warm, moist mouth. "There's going to be some sperm shooting into your mouth, and as soon as you feel it hit your tongue, it will be time for you to come too. I want us to come together. And I want you to swallow all my sperm."

Tiffany, in a daze of lust, close to her own orgasm, practically stripped of her own will by the drugs, just moaned in agreement.

Suddenly, she felt her teacher's hot cum spurting onto her tongue, and his hypnotic suggestion took hold. She tipped over the edge into her own orgasm and began to cum hard. The older man's cum spurted and spurted, hot and salty, and she began to swallow, as her pussy began to spasm. Her hand kept busy on her clit, rubbing furiously, as Green rammed his cock into her mouth again and again until his balls were drained.

The student and teacher were both at peace, drained by their tremendous orgasms.

The remainder of the evening was just logistics. Brown helped the groggy girl get dressed, and fished out of her purse the address he had given her, so as not to leave any link to himself. He walked her out to her car and drove her home - she was certainly in no shape to drive! - all the while talking gently to her to keep her from freaking out. Tiffany just hummed softly to herself, and seemed unaware of her surrounding. Brown parked the car in her driveway and told her to go into her house and go to bed, and the girl obeyed. Roger White drove up five minutes later and picked the math teacher up.

"God almighty, I got a hard-on like a fucking crowbar," said White.

"Well then," said Brown, "I guess you get first crack at her tomorrow."

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CHAPTER THREE: THE ONE WITH THE GOLDEN OLDIE

And that's how it had started, Tiffany thought, as she prayed for the bell to ring to signal the end of English class. Her pert little nose had been parked in the chalk circle for 10 minutes now, but it seemed like an eternity. She had to stand still even as hundreds of ants feasted on the honey that had been applied to the insides of her vagina and far up into her teenaged asshole. The maddening ants kept her in constant agony, and were even starting to make her horny as they marched back and forth all over her little clitty.

Of course, she only found out some of the details when Brown and White finally told her how they had worked out the plan; the night she had fingered herself to orgasm and swallowed a load of Brown's hot cum, she had been so doped up on GBH and Ecstasy she barely knew her own name.

The morning after the cheerleader had put on her little show for the treacherous older men, she woke up feeling awful, an after effect of the drugs. She told her mother that she didn't feel well and asked her to call the school office. Her mother agreed; Tiffany was not the sort of girl to fake being sick.

Her younger sister Stephanie popped her head into Tiffany's room. At 14, Stephanie was a budding beauty. She still had her braces on her teeth, which were due off in a year, and her breasts had not yet begun to sprout into the impressive 36-Cs that poked out of Tiffany's torso, but she was still a little cutie who was obviously going to be just as hot as her older sister.

"Hey!" said Stephanie cheerfully. "Where were you last night? I didn't hear you come in."

Tiffany cast her mind back. She remembered going to her math teacher's apartment, but not much else. She had a vague memory of being naked, and she blushed. What had happened? Why couldn't she remember?

"Oh, I stayed at school to work on homecoming banners," Tiffany lied. She hated being dishonest with her sister, but couldn't possibly tell her the truth, and she wasn't even sure of the truth.

Tiffany stayed in bed all that day. The next day, although she felt fine, she also had her mother call in sick for her. She was dreading facing Mr. Brown. Had she really been naked with him? Had he fucked her? she wondered. No, she'd be able to feel it in her pussy, she decided, and she could tell she was still a virgin.

On the third day, Tiffany felt like she had no choice. She couldn't stay home from school forever. Homecoming was approaching, and if she missed too many practices she wouldn't be allowed to cheer. She dressed for school conservatively - blue jeans, a bulky sweater, Doc Martens - and drove to Daniels High School.

Sitting in first period, Tiffany listened to the morning announcements over the P.A. system. Just as they were winding up, the vice principal who was reading the announcements said, "And Tiffany Daniels, please report to the principal's office."

Every kid in homeroom turned and looked at the cute cheerleader, and she blushed. But hey, she thought, I haven't done anything wrong. There could be all kinds of reasons to meet with Principal White - student council (Tiffany was vice president), homecoming plans, all sorts of things.

The teenager gathered up her book bag and marched down the hall to Principal White's office.

"Come in, come in, Tiffany," Mr. White said jovially. His eyes twinkled. Tiffany was relieved. If she'd done something wrong, he'd be acting stern.

"Have a seat," White said once Tiffany was inside his office. He shut the door. Tiffany thought she heard him turn the lock, but maybe she was mistaken.

"Well, well, Miss Tiffany Daniels," said the principal. Suddenly he was no longer twinkly, but stern. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she said nervously.

"Fine, huh?" repeated the principal. "Well, maybe we can change that. I want you to watch something."

The sexy blonde cheerleader noticed for the first time a TV set on a portable cart, with a VCR underneath it. White pressed a button on a remote control, and a video flickered onto the screen.

There was Tiffany Daniels, sweet 16, splayed out stark naked except for white knee socks on a sofa. On a table in front of her, crystal clear, was a bottle of Scotch, some joints, and what looked like lines of cocaine spread out on a mirror. Tiffany had never touched drugs of any sort, but the juxtaposition was damning.

As the girl watched in growing horror, she saw herself start to masturbate. There was no sound on the video, but the image swung up and down her lithe young body, focusing first on her face, with her eyes closed and her mouth open in ecstasy, then panning down her breasts with her nipples hard and firm, down to her pussy, where her fingers were working away at her clit. The image zoomed in on her pussy, showing her blonde pubes slick with her pussy juices.

The image jumped back to her head, and a man's torso entered the frame. He was unidentifiable, seen only from mid torso to mid thigh. He had an enormous erection, and he approached Tiffany's mouth and slid it right in. She could see the man's cock move in and out of her mouth. She was horrified, humiliated, totally degraded, as she watched herself suck a strange man's cock while masturbating, and watched it in shocked silence with her school principal standing right beside her.

White laid a heavy hand on her shoulder, and Tiffany jumped.

"Some video, huh?" he asked, leering. He hit the remote, and the screen went black.

"But wait, there's more!" White said, making his voice sound like a TV pitchman on an infomercial. He was enjoying her distress, toying with her, piling on the humiliation.

Tiffany sat numbly, her world shattered. She realized the video must have been made two nights ago at Mr. Brown's apartment, even though her memory was hazy. White walked to his desk and pulled out a large envelope and tossed it to her.

"Have a look, baby," he said with a grin.

Tiffany pulled out a tape recorder, pressed play and listened once again to her confession of cheating on her algebra test. She stopped it and pulled from the envelope her cheat sheet. But the last thing in the envelope was the worst. It was an 8x10 photo taken from the video. It showed her face in close-up, her eyes closed but very recognizable. Her lips were stretched around a male cock.

Printed across the bottom of the photo in some sort of electronic type was this message:

"MY NAME IS TIFFANY DANIELS. I LIVE AT 300 W. ALAMEDA STREET, BEVERLY, TEXAS. MY PHONE NUMBER IS 555-1212. I'M A JUNIOR AT DANIELS HIGH SCHOOL IN BEVERLY. I LOVE SUCKING OFF NASTY PERVERTS. IF YOU CAN IMAGINE IT, I WILL DO IT."

"Oh God, Mr. White," the poor girl moaned. "What is this? What are you doing to me?"

Mr. White was humming to himself. Tiffany didn't recognize the tune.

Suddenly he began singing the song he had been humming. "You're 16, you're beautiful, and you're mine! You're 16, you're beautiful, and you're mine!"

The stunned girl sat, immobile.

"Let me explain your new life to, Miss Tiffany Cocksucker Slave Cunt Daniels. You are mine, utterly and completely. You will do anything and everything I tell you to, starting at this moment. Am I making myself clear, you wretched little slut?"

The cheerleader nodded, mute. This was all a horrible nightmare, she thought. No one had ever dared talk to her in such a way. It was unimaginable. She'd report him to the school board. She'd tell her parents. She'd kill the motherfucker!

"Now, Miss Slut Slave, here is what will happen if you don't do exactly as I tell you from now on. There are already dozens of copies of this video dubbed. They have been edited so there is no sign as to who made them. The only thing people will see on this video will be Tiffany Slut Cunt Daniels sucking a man's cock after she's obviously indulged in illegal drugs. The tapes are in envelopes, already addressed, and with a friend of mine. If I say the word, copies will be mailed to your parents, your pastor at St. Timothy's, your fellow cheerleaders, and about 50 of the guys here at school. I'm sure they'll make sure they're distributed to everybody else.

"The picture you see with your name, address and phone number will be posted repeatedly on every sex newsgroup on the Internet. Within 24 hours, thousands of perverts nationwide will know who you are, where you live and where you go to school. Of those thousands, surely a couple hundred will want to track down the girl in the photo. You'll be stalked at home and at school, probably raped repeatedly, possibly kidnapped, never to see your family or friends again.

"If you go to the police, or even if you get really brave and try to kill me, my friend will mail out the tapes and make the Internet postings. Your life will be over. So you see, Tiffany Tits, why I sing: You're 16, you're beautiful, and you're mine."

The cheerleader felt like she was dead. She was being blackmailed, and she had no choice but to go along with her perverted principal.

"So, shall we begin, you little slut-monkey?" he said evilly, trying to degrade the teenager even further with his name-calling.

"Please," the poor girl squeaked. "Please don't do this to me. Please let me go. I'll be good."

"Oh, you'll be good all right," White said sarcastically. "You'll be great. You'll be as much fun as we've had in a long time.

"We're going to play a series of games," he continued. "We'll call it 'Toying With Tiffany'. You won't like hardly any of them, although there's a good chance that you'll get some nice orgasms along the way. Your life here at Daniels High School is going to be a living hell for a while, until we get tired of you, and then we'll move on. That's right, Tiffany, I said we. I'm part of a team of men here at Daniels that breaks young girls like yourself. You aren't the first and you won't be the last. You're just our Number One project at the moment."

"Please," the cheerleader pleaded. "I beg you, Mr. White. I'll do anything-"

"That you will, Tiffany, that you will. Now, stand up and strip."

Tiffany hesitated.

"Now, cunt!" he barked.

She had no choice. Maybe later she would figure out how to beat the horrible principal. But for now, she had to obey him or risk destroying her entire life. She rose, and slowly began to peel off her clothes.

When she was naked, White ordered her to lay on his desk on her back, grab her ankles and pull her legs back. Her heart pounding, she obeyed. Was he going to rape her now?

Instead, he pulled a jar of honey from his desk drawer. "Don't move a muscle, bitch," he hissed, and began to apply the honey all over her blonde pubes. He swathed it down the sensitive strip between her pussy and ass, and smeared her ass cheeks with it. He held open her pussy lips with one hand and poured honey up inside her, then did the same thing with her ass. Tiffany was mortified at what was going on, but didn't understand.

"Please, don't do this to me," she wailed.

"Shut up!" he snapped. "I don't want to hear another word out of you." He reached down to the floor and picked up her white cotton panties and stuffed them into her mouth. "Keep them there until I tell you to take them out," he ordered.

Then he pulled out the jar of ants. "Not a twitch, bitch, or mommy and daddy and the whole world will see that video." And with that, he poured the ants all over her crotch. Tiffany was petrified, but obeyed his order and didn't move a muscle. She wanted to scream, but didn't.

"One final touch," he said. From a closet be brought forth a bag. "The clothes you came in are a little too modest for a whore-dog like you. From now on, you'll wear what we tell you to wear. Put these on." Tiffany climbed down from the desk, her head spinning. Honey dripped down one thigh. The horrible ants were crawling all over her. She pulled out another pair of panties, also white cotton, and pulled them on.

A short pleated skirt went over them, one a little shorter than her cheerleader skirt that almost showed the bottom of the cheeks of her sweet teenaged ass. There was no bra, and she looked at Principal White with a pleading expression, not daring to take the panty gag out of her mouth and ask a question.

"That's right, no bra. And on future days, probably no panties," he said.

Tiffany put on the sheer white blouse that was a little too small. She buttoned it all the way up, but White unbuttoned the top two buttons. Her large, firm teenaged breasts strained against the cotton; White could faintly make out her aureolas under the blouse. The cheerleader continued getting dressed, pulling on little white anklets with lacy tops and then buckling on white sandals with high heels. God, she thought, I wouldn't wear an outfit like this in a million years. It's so...slutty.

White pulled out a roll of duct tape. "Just to make sure these panties stay on," he told her, and wrapped a thick strip of tape around her waist, taping the panties to her bare skin. He did the same around each thigh, taping the panties to each leg. "If you try to remove the panties to get rid of the ants," White warned the scared girl, "we'll repeat the game tomorrow, using fire ants.

"Now there's one last order of business, Miss Blowjob Daniels," the principal said. "I'm more than a little horny after our little meeting. I want you to kneel down and suck me off."

Jesus, thought Tiffany, this will never end. Reluctantly, she kneeled down in front of the principal and pulled the panties out of her mouth as he unzipped his fly and hauled out his erection.

"Take it deep, little girlie, and use your tongue."

Tiffany leaned forward and opened her lips and allowed the principal to insert his cock into her moist young mouth. She had never felt so humiliated or degraded in her 16 years, to be kneeling here, sucking off her principal in this slutty outfit, while hundreds of live ants crawled all over her most private and sensitive parts. It was a nightmare, she thought, but she had no choice.

After a couple of minutes of sucking, she felt his cock begin to swell. He clasped his hands on the sides of her head and thrust deeper into her throat. She started to gag, but fought down the urge, as his cock erupted, shooting stream after stream of jism deep into her throat. She swallowed over and over until he was done.

"That's a good little slut," Mr. White said. "Go back to class now. And during the day, if a teacher tells you to do something, I suggest you do it. There are several of us in on this little project, and you wouldn't want to piss off anybody."

Humiliated, Tiffany stuffed her old clothes into her book bag and left the office. As she left, she heard White singing to himself:

"You walked out of my dreams, and into my life Now you're my angel divine You're 16, you're beautiful, and you're mine."

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR: THE ONE WITH ALL THE CHEERING

Finally, the bell ring, signaling the end of Tiffany's humiliation in front of Mr. Green's English class. As the other students filed out, Tom Green said softly to the teenaged girl, so no one else could hear, "Stay right where you are, Tiffany."

She stood, her nose pressed to the chalkboard. The live ants were having a field day in her sweet little asshole, crawling up and down, irritating the sensitive lining. It was maddening, but Tiffany stood still.

As the last student filed out, Tom Green shut the door.

"Well, well, well," he said. "Little Miss Tiffany My Pussy's Too Good For Y'All Daniels. How do you feel?"

The cheerleader didn't know what to respond. Green was obviously in on the conspiracy with Brown and White to degrade her, so she knew she had to tread carefully.

"I asked you a question, Miss Tiffany Ants Up the Ass Daniels." Green stood directly behind her and leaned in so his breath was hot in her ear and on her neck. If anyone had walked in, it would have looked like a teacher having a conference with a student who had been disciplined, but Tiffany knew this was far beyond that.

"I don't know, sir. Please, can I go to my next class?" Tiffany pleaded.

"Sure, slut," Green said. The teenager flinched with each new verbal assault. She was used to respect and deference, not horrible sexual insults. "And you didn't move, so you don't get detention, even though I'm sure you wanted to wiggle that little ass, didn't you?"

"Please, may I go now?" she repeated.

"Yes you may," said Green, and Tiffany stepped back from the blackboard. Green ogled her brazenly, and his eyes stopped on her gorgeous teenaged tits.

"Uh-oh, little problem here, Tiff," he said. She looked down and saw two large yellow chalk smears, one over each breast, where they had pressed against the board.

"Here, let's clean you up," Green said with mock kindliness.

"No, that's really OK," said Tiffany, "I'm gonna be late."

"Nonsense," Green countered. "We can't have you walking around the halls looking like that." And he pulled a packet from his desk drawer. It was several of those moist towelettes, like little napkins soaked in antiseptic cleaner. "Here, hold still, and let me clean you off."

Knowing what was coming, Tiffany took a step back. She didn't want her English teacher pawing her tits; despite all the terrible things done to her over the last few days, she still had her dignity.

"I said hold still!" hissed Green, "That's a goddamn order! Put your hands at your sides, bitch!"

The trembling teen obeyed.

Green extended a towelette and begin to dab at her right breast. The coldness and wetness soaked straight through the thin cotton and, since she had been forbidden to wear a bra, hit her young nipple, causing it to spring to life in full, glorious erection. As her nipple hardened, Tiffany looked down and realized the moisture was soaking the blouse all over her breast, causing the fabric to become nearly transparent!

"Please, Mr. Green, I'm gonna be late! Oh God, people are gonna see!" The poor girl, who had already endured so much, was becoming more and more frantic.

"Don't move a muscle!" barked Green. "I'll write you a fucking pass." He pulled out a new towelette and began the same process on her left breast, with the same result: a perky, extended nipple and thin, wet, white fabric. Anyone could see both of Tiffany's perfect teenaged breasts and their hard nipples, and the halls were full of her fellow students changing classes.

"There, we got all that nasty chalk off," Green mocked her with a sick smile. He scribbled out a pass for her tardiness to her next class," and then said, matter-of-factly, "When you go to your next class, Miss Daniels, why don't you carry your books by your side under your arm rather than hugged in front of your chest. In fact, consider that an order. If you try to hide that pretty little chest, I'll report you to Principal White for disobedience."

Tiffany knew what that meant. She would just have to hope she could make it there quickly.

The halls were still packed as Tiffany scurried along, her breasts in plain view, jiggling wildly in their braless state. As her nipples rubbed the inside of the tight blouse, they stayed erect. Every student in the hall stopped and stared. Some laughed, many pointed, as the wealthy young woman, named for the founder of the school, walked rapidly along.

"Hey, Tiff, I like the new look!" called a male voice.

"It's Tits, not Tiff," yelled another. Raucous laughter burst from a pack. Her face burned with shame. This couldn't be happening to her, she thought. What a horrible nightmare.

Several boys started a chant, mocking her cheerleader status: "Gimme a T! Gimme an I! Gimme a T! Gimme an S! What's that spell? Tits! Who's got 'em? Tiffany!"

God, were there no teacher to save her from this? Tiffany was almost in tears when she reached study hall. She burst into the room, made straight for her desk and sat down. She choked back tears. Her life was a living hell.

The rest of the day passed without major incident for Tiffany. Her blouse dried in study hall, and her nipples finally returned to their normal state. The ants were still driving her nuts, but many of them had died from being squished between her butt and the chairs she sat in. The ones that remained, though, were the worst, for the they were the ones crawling deep inside her pussy and ass.

Mr. White had not given Tiffany any instructions as to what was happen to her at the end of the day, although she thought she was due to have the ants removed. So she was not surprised when, during her last class of the day, a student "runner" from the office came in with a sealed envelope for Tiffany.

Report to my office at the final bell, read the note inside. Tiffany could tell White and the other male teachers were being careful not to leave any evidence that could incriminate them.

A few minutes after the last bell rang, Tiffany was once again in Principal White's office, the place where she had begun her day in hell. White again shut the door.

"How was your day, Tiffany-Bitch?" he asked maliciously.

"Hellish," she answered honestly.

"The correct answer would be, 'Hellish, SIR,' " he corrected.

"Yes, sir," she responded.

"I imagine you're anxious to get those ants out of your pussy and ass," the evil principal said. "But I'm concerned it might be difficult to get the ones that have crawled up really high and out of reach. So I bought you something to help."

He pulled out an enormous black dildo, about 10 inches long and as big around as a paper-towel tube. Tiffany's mouth hung open as she stared at it.

"No, bitch, it's not for your mouth," White said, "although you might want to get it wet there first. It's to crush the ants. Your fingers won't reach far enough. So you insert your new little friend here all the way up your pussy, then all the way up your ass, and use it to crush the ants. I'm afraid that if you don't use this, you'll never kill them all, and tomorrow you'll still have ants crawling inside you. You don't want that, do you?"

The dejected, dazed cheerleader just shook her head.

"So take your new friend here and put him in your backpack. Go on home and find yourself a little privacy and get rid of the ants. Heck, be glad I'm not ordering you to do it right here on my office floor. It would make a great addition to the videotape: Sweet little virgin Tiffany Daniels fucks herself up the ass with a big black dildo. Yeah, that would be a popular offering on the Internet," he chuckled.

Tiffany reluctantly took the dildo and stuck it in her backpack.

"Then once you get rid of the ants, we thought it might be nice to go shopping tonight," White continued. "So tell Mommy and Daddy you have to come back to school after dinner to work on a Homecoming project. Be here at 7:30 p.m., and we'll meet you in the parking lot. We'll have you back by 9:30 so you can get home and get your beauty sleep."

"May I ask a question, sir?" Tiffany was looking down at the floor submissively, which White liked.

"Yes, you may, ass-licker."

"Where are we going tonight? And who all is going?"

"Well, you're the central attraction, of course," White said. "And there will be myself, and Mr. Brown and Mr. Green, and maybe some others depending on their availability. We're going to the mall and pick out some new clothes for you, something more in line with what you were wearing today. I'm sure as hell not gonna spend any more of my own money buying you slut outfits like this one."

"So should I bring money, sir?"

"No, that won't be necessary," White said ominously. "You'll be paying for the clothes, but not with money." He smiled at her and winked.

Tiffany felt sick. She didn't know what was in store, only that it wasn't good at all.

* * *

To Toying With Tiffany: Ch. 5 - 8

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