Should you be offended by explicit sexual material, or if you are under age in your local, please read no further. Please leave and avoid both of us embarrassment.

This little tale is a work of fiction. No one in this story is based on anyone in real life. Any apparent references or relationships to real people or events are purely coincidental, and not intentional.

The reader should also recognize that, as everything in this work is fiction, this story is meant for entertainment and amusement. There are many acts described of violence and behavior considered unacceptable by society. No actions are condoned or otherwise sanctioned or encouraged.

Krissie Beavers

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Medi Junior Part Two - Krissie’s Crushed

Medi allowed himself to drop out of Kelly. She continued to lay on her stomach, the gaping wound in her ass oozing cum as he got up. He pursed his lips as he looked at the names and matched them to the photos. He realized he didn’t know any of these girls, that they had done him no harm, that they just happened to be available. He liked the looks of the sassy cheerleader, so he chose Krissie Mane, senior, captain of the cheerleading squad. Looking at her dirt, he thought to himself that he really didn’t have anything against drugs and people who used them. But they seldom came to a good end. He would be just using the materials at hand. He smiled as he remembered the line from The Godfather. It wasn’t personal, it was just business.

Having made his selection, Medi put on gloves and opened the batch of index cards. Taking a pen from an unopened pack, he wrote in block letters: I KNOW ALL ABOUT YOUR DRUGS. IF YOU WANT TO KEEP YOUR SECRET, MEET ME OUTSIDE THE RATHSKELLER AT CLOSING TIME ON TUESDAY NIGHT. I WILL BE WATCHING TO MAKE SURE YOU ARE ALONE. OTHERWISE, I WILL POST THE INFORMATION TO THE INTERNET. IT’S YOUR CHOICE.

Medi had made sure to frequent the Student Union’s Rathskeller off and on for a several weeks, establishing himself as a regular. He tended to stay by himself. That wasn’t much of a problem since most of the American students tended to hang with their own groups. With his presence a given, he was unlikely to arouse any particular suspicion.

Two days later, Krissie shifted her pack as she crossed the common. She knew that, by holding the single strap, her sweatshirt was bunched around her breasts. She could see, out of the corner of her eye, the boys staring at her. She smiled a little smile, enjoying it. Life was so good. It was so much fun to be a girl. It was great to be Krissie Mane, captain of the cheerleaders. She was looking forward to seeing Jerome before supper. She thought fondly of her football player. She knew they made such a good looking couple. And everyone was expecting them to tie the knot at some future point, probably when they graduated in the spring. She wasn’t quite sure what he would they would do if he didn’t catch on in the NFL, but they would have a good time.

At the sorority house, she opened her postal box and got a single letter. As she made her way up the stairs, she opened it. Reading the block script, she came to a complete stop, blood draining from her face. Another girl, walking up, asked if she were okay. She mumbled something and stumbled to her room. She felt numb and sick. It was already Tuesday, and she had a choice to make. She could not go and let her drug problems and the rehab stuff all come out. Did they know about the drug buys? Or she would see what they wanted. Her mind whirled, considering her options. She finally decided that, maybe, Jerome could beat them up.

She made up some story about how a TA had been trying to feel her up after a class, trying to get her to go to bed. This had actually happened in the past. She told him about a threat to her grades if she didn’t have sex with him. That part had never happened. But it got Jerome all pumped up. And he decided to bring his friend, Butch with them. His anger excited her and she promised to tap into it when this was done. It was fun to play around when he got physical.

He got there about at around 10:00, an hour before closing. He contented himself with sipping his beer, listening absently to the classical music, Hadyn he thought. He had arranged for Grimes and Jarvis to stay in their car until about 10 minutes before closing. They would drift over and step into some convenient dark doorway to await their role. As an added bonus, they expected to get a crack at the blonde’s crack at some point. At about 9:45, Krissie and two athletic young two men came stomping in, glaring around. Medi looked away under their withering gaze. She had not disappointed him. She was a sailor’s wet dream. She had on too tight hip hugger jeans, a jean jacket over a top which almost made it down to her waist line, and black cowboy boots.

She was unable to convince Jerome to wait outside. She wasn’t sure how serious this ‘come alone’ stuff was, but he was insistent. They got to the Rathskeller, the beer selling adjunct to the Student Union, a little before closing time. She seldom used it, since there were many, more cool places to go. Jerome wanted to know where he was. She told him she couldn’t see him, that maybe he was scared away. She persuaded him to go outside and wait. When he showed up, Jerome and Butch could beat the crap out of him.

The bartender announced last call. Medi moved to the exit with many of the customers. The jocks went out too. The tall blonde remained. Medi trusted his men had spotted her interference. They should understood their role and memove her supposed protection. Muscles wouldn’t match up with the hardware they were carrying. He moved past Krissie, hardly paying her any attention. He moved into his own shadows.

Krissie was the last to leave the Rathskeller. She had been looking around, wondering if the would be blackmailer one of the customers, or was skulking around, outside. She felt a tiny thrill of fear as she stood there. She hoped this wasn’t some stupid prank. She jumped as the lights went down. She looked at her watch. It was now about 10 minutes after closing time. But the asshole still hadn’t shown up. Trembling with anger and fright, she half hoped and half feared he would show up. If he did, he would get it.

Medi, standing in the shadows, watched as she came out. She must have been 5’9”, blonde hair flouncing down over her shoulders. He knew her to be 37-26-35. He knew where she had gotten her breast implants. He let her stew . The lights had gone down. He gave his men time to suppress her protection. Then he stepped out of the shadow and walked, scraping his feet a bit so she would be aware of him. He could imagine her eyes flashing with anger.

She was checking her watch again when he heard him. In her boots, she was nearly as tall as he was. She brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Who the fuck are you?” She peered forward, trying to see his face. “Are you the asshole who’s been sending me those little notes?” Even though it was dark, she could now see that he was a fucking Arab. How she hated these dirty foreigners, strutting around like they had bought the country.

Medi didn’t say a word. Shrugging, he handed her a copy of the stuff Hernandez had dug up. He could see her peering at him, trying to place him. There was no reason for her to know him. She ripped open the envelope. Squinting, she tried to read them in the dim light. She whirled and took quick strides, her cowboy boots clacking on the pavement, she carried the open envelope to the nearest light available, a street lamp. Try as she might, she could not make out what they were. They were some manner of form. She jumped when the Arab spoke to her.

Medi spoke quietly to her. “Perhaps I can help, since the light is somewhat poor. The first item is an admittance form to the Jackson Clinic.” It was a well known clinic for treatment of drug dependency hallmarked by very discrete handling of its clients. Her full name was listed as the patient in question. “The second item is a copy of a police report, detailing three different arrests for charges of illegal possession of drugs. I believe they all predate the treatment you underwent.” She was staring from the papers to him. “The final item is from a drug dealer. I believe he knows you. He has offered to turn state’s evidence, to provide the names of his clients. As you might imagine, one of the names is yours. And, unfortunately for you, his evidence post dates your treatment.” Her shoulders were slumping a little. “The light is so poor here. I suggest we go where there is more light. Would that help you?” He was wondering if it would be flight or fright.

Not wanting to, she had been listening intently to what he had to say. Her worst fears were confirmed as he described what she was holding. Her parents had worked so hard to keep the drug rehab thing in her Junior year quiet. His mention of the police reports had sent chills through her. And she had began to feel sick when he mentioned the drug buy stuff. She had tried so hard to stay off, but she couldn’t. When he mentioned going where there was more light, she knew she had to get the situation back under control.

She could feel her face twisting into an ugly snarl. She was told it was pretty good. “Just who the fuck do you think you are, you little camel jocky? And what the fuck does this crap have to do with me? Do you know who you are dealing with?” She could see his face very well. She hoped he was shaken. “You know what I’m going to do?” She was almost yelling by now. “Somebody is going to teach you a lesson. I how you are around to remember it when Jerome and Butch are done with you, you miserable camel turd.” She turned to face the Science Building. “Hey Jerome? Butch? You can come out now. Come on over here and meet the piece of shit I was telling you about.” Her voice echoed of the dark granite.

Medi had to work to keep from laughing. Because there was no reply from her would-be protectors, they must have come off second best to his men. He gave them no further thought. Jarvis and Grimes would fill him in later.

This bastard was laughing at her. Clearly he didn’t believe how much trouble he was in. “Hey guys. Over here. Come on out. Get your asses over here and beat the shit out of this bastard.”

“Excuse me, miss. Are you inquiring after your muscle bound friends. I fear they will not be coming. You see, they were not invited to this party.”

She was suddenly a little afraid. What if they didn’t come? “Hey guys. Come on. This isn’t funny.” She felt a little foolish as her voice echoed, once again. She leaned forward, hoping for their voices. Or their appearance. Or something. But there was only the normal background noise of a University after midnight. She felt tears beginning to form. “Come on, please? Just show yourselves. I’m sorry if I pissed you off. Honest.” The bastards had abandoned her to this creep!

He laughed again, softly. He had done it. He almost had her now. There was no answer from her would be enforcers. His laughter provoked her into a wild swing at him. He was expecting it and sidestepped it easily. He retreated, not wanting any watchers to connect him with a hysterical woman. It would be so easy for her to scream rape.

He stepped away from her and she followed him, swinging again, but she didn’t really have any heart for it. She was in serious trouble and knew it. What did he want from her? Her heart was racing and the blood was pounding in her ears.

He spoke very softly now, remaining a little out of her reach. “What happens next is totally up to you. Please. Take a deep breath. Come on, take a deep cleansing breath.” He waited, watching her. She was facing him now. She was, literally, wringing her hands. He expected her eyes were pretty wild. He heard her take a ragged breath as much as saw it. “This is all quite understandable. You have had a great shock, yes?” He could just make out her nod. “You have hidden this for a long time, and now it is all threatening to come out. This is, at best, very ackward.” He could see that, finally, her hands were still. “Please try to be reasonable. You should read the documents in question. And the light is very bad here. Let us go where there is more light. Is that not the reasonable thing to do?”

The words had taken some time to sink in. She was trying to absorb what this all meant. She could easily loose her position on the Cheer Leading Squad. And the bit about the drug dealer might lead to legal action. Maybe she would wind up in jail. The Student Union was not far. The lights burned in the concourse all night, although the shops were closed.

“I should think you would want to assure yourselves these are genuine. And you will, of course, do as you see fit. I promise you that you will not do anything you do not want to do.” He let her silence speak for itself. Without waiting for an answer, he led the way. After a few seconds, he heard the clacking of her boots.

Mentally shrugging, she reckoned she had no other choice. She followed him. Her legs barely carried her, knees almost buckling as she walked. She really didn’t need to see the documents. The hundred feet or so to the entrance of the Student Union were the longest she had ever walked. Getting to the door, she could not believe how he mocked her by holding the damned door for her. She moved over to a chair and sat down. Looking at the documents, there was no question of authenticity of the admission form or the police reports from her junior year in high school. She turned to the two page statement by Iggy, the guy she had been buying drugs from. It was all there. All he had to do was name her name and she was toast. Unbidden, tears came to her eyes. Without bothering to brush them aside, they fell on the papers. What was she going to do? More to the point, what was he going to do? It was time to find out what this was going to cost.

He marveled at how pretty she really was. Medi stayed at a distance while studied the documents. There was no question of authenticity. She knew it. He knew it. He studied her while she shuffled from one paper to the next. She really was quite beautiful. Her golden hair had a light wave to it, just perfect. Her makeup was just right, not too heavy and not too light. And her jean jacket and sweater ended an inch above her jean, showing nice white skin. All in all, she was a real dream. She finally turned and looked at him. He could see tears forming in her eyes.

She blinked back the tears. Her voice held a hopeful tone. “Are these the originals?” When he shook his head, she wasn’t surprised. She already knew that. Her voice held just the faintest of quivers. “What happens now?”

He had her! “Do you wish to discuss this here? Or would you prefer to go somewhere more private and talk?” He smiled an encouraging smile. And then he frowned. “Or should this be posted to the internet?” He could see her studying him carefully, her pretty tongue wetting her lips.

The threat of an internet posting fit. It would be everywhere in a matter of days. She wondered what this would cost. “Are you trying to blackmail me?” She wondered, would it be money, or sex, or what?

“Oh. Such an ugly word. I believe we are discussing an arrangement, are we not?” She was standing now, looking him in the eye. He loved long legged women. He could see her crinkle her nose, like she was smelling something bad.

His reply spoke volumes of some kind of deal. She hoped it was money. she shuddered at the thought of sex with this oily Camel Jockey. At least he didn’t smell as bad as the others. He wanted to get her out of here. She really didn’t want to talk about any more of this in public either. Maybe she could contain this.

“If I may be so bold?” He raised his eyebrows. “We might retire to my car. It is just out in the parking lot.” Actually it was a van, a specially equipped van. But she didn’t need to know that yet.

Not knowing what else to do, she agreed. She shrugged and they walked out the front door. With that they walked out the front door of the Student Union. She hoped no one saw them. Walking through the parking lot, she wondered if he was going to rape her. When they got to the large van, she was sure he would want sex. When he opened the door, she just stood there. She could feel her independence slipping away. She climbed inside.

Medi resisted the impulse to pat her tight ass. He followed her inside, avoiding direct contact with her, and locked the door. He turned on the light and the audio and video recording devices. With the tint on the windows, no one was going to be able to see inside. With the insulation, they weren’t going to hear anything, either. As he turned to her, she shrank back away from him, sliding down the bed toward the rear of the van. She looked at him, warily, as he sat down beside her.

This damned van had a bed. She knew she was screwed in more ways than one. She waited for him to break the silence, wondering what was going to happen. His body language did not suggest any immediate action.

“Might I call you Krissie?” He waited as she shrugged, not really looking at him. “I need to make certain I have the data correct. If I might. What kind of drugs were you using when you were, as they say, busted, in High School?”

She simply looked at him. She had been expecting some kind of demand, not this. She decided to be silent and dumb to all of this.

“Krissie. Let is get something clear between us.” He stopped. “Look at me when I talk to you. It is not polite for you to pretend not to hear me.” She raised her eyes to his. “It is of small concern to me. However, if you do not answer my questions to my satisfaction, this material goes out on the internet.”

The tears were starting to form in her eyes. How could she have been so stupid about this. He wasn’t going to get any kind of break here. “It was coke.” And he wanted to know about the clinic. “It was part of a deal set up by my parents. I go into recovery and I avoid a trial.” He made her repeat her statement, more loudly. Then, he wanted to know if she would have done time. “I suppose so. I would probably have been in juvie hall for a while.”

The admissions would, at most be a soure of embarrassment. The next data would be more than that. “Have you been doing drugs since you came to college?” Her eyes were no longer meeting his. “Krissie. I grow weary of your lack of respect for me. Please look at me, or I will become impatient.”

Even though it was cold, she could feel sweat breaking out on her forhead. “Oh, who knows? You go to parties and people give you stuff and you have a good time. Stuff like that.”

He frowned at her, and began to shake his head. He put on a stern tone. “Now Krissie! We both know that isn’t true. Now, just tell me the truth. You will feel better for this.” He had softened his tone toward the end of his disapproval of her.

This was hard. How had he known about her restarting? “Yeah, I guess so.” She could see impatience growing on his face. She really didn’t need to get him angry. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I started doing coke again.”

“But there is more, isn’t there Krissie?” He was looking expectantly. “Haven’t you done some things to keep costs down?”

It was only then that she realized she might be seen as some kind of a drug dealer. “Well. I kind of.” She stopped. “I sold drugs to other people.” Her heart was pounding again, and she was beginning to sweat more heavily. She wondered what else this fucking pig wanted from her. Maybe he wanted drugs. She could get them for him if that would finish this. Or maybe he wanted money. She was terrified at the thought of going to jail. Tears began to well up in her eyes again.

He smiled at her. “There, there. It will be better now.” She looked hopefully at him. “You have done very well. It is always good to get that kind of thing off your chest. Don’t you feel better?” She shrugged again. He really didn’t care, but it was key that he had her admitting, on tape, to being a pusher. She could do hard time for it. Maybe sweet Krissie would, before he finished with her.

Medi moved on to another matter, that of understanding and complying with instructions. “May I ask a question?” He really didn’t care whether she wanted to hear it or not. “I am puzzled. Clearly, because you are here, you read the instructions to you. But perhaps you did not understand them?” Even in the dim light he could see her tense up.

The conversation took another tack she had not fully expected. Clearly he remembered she had not come alone. And, now that she thought of it, she had no idea where those worthless bastards had got to. When he asked, again, she decided to stonewall him.

In a calm voice, he continued. “Unless I am mistaken, you were to come alone, were you not?” She looked at him, trying to calm her appearances, but she was not succeeding. He spoke in a louder voice, with a threatening tone. “Did you understand my question?” This time she nodeded. He lowered his voice to a normal level. “Were you supposed to come alone?” This time she nodded. He spoke again, as if to an errant child. “Have you done something wrong?”

She brushed her hair out of her eyes. She still wasn’t quite sure where this was going, but she didn’t like it. She nodded that she had done something wrong. She tried to stop herself from licking her lips.

“Have you been a bad girl?” The nod was there, if reluctantly. “What happens to bad girls?” His cock was getting hard again.

She had a sinking feeling in her stomach that this wasn’t going well. She shrugged. And he demanded, in that hard tone, to know what happened to bad girls. She froze. Maybe he was probably some kind of S&M freak. She suddenly felt very afraid again. What had she gotten herself into? He was wanting her to prescribe a punishment.

“Krissie!” She jumped in a most satisfactory manner. “May I remind you of our agreement. You will answer the question. What happens to bad girls?”

She stammered. “Well, I guess they loose their allowances?” She knew how stupid that sounded.

“Krissie. You disappoint me. Perhaps I really should post the material to the internet. Is that what you want me to do?” Eyes closed, she shook her head. He could see tears leaking down her face. “When you were bad, what did your father do to you?”

Her voice was trembling. “He, um, he, well, he spanked me.” There. It was out on the table. She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She knew this was what he wanted to hear by the hungry look on his face.

“And how did that work? Did he bend you over his knee and pull down your pants and spank your bare bottom?” He could see the dismay on her face. He doubted very much that anything like that had ever happened to this cheer leader princess. He listened as she made up details, about being laid over his knee, about having her panties pulled down, and her ass being left bright red. “And do you deserve this now?”

The question hung in the air, silent and menacing. Ever so slowly, she nodded. “You have a choice to make. You can leave, with the consequences.” He raised his eyebrows. She didn’t move. “Or, you can assume the position, now!”

Confined in the van, she had to get up on her knees to drop her pants. He wondered if she would take them off, or just pull them down. “Don’t be disrespectful to me. Look at me when you do something for me.” He marveled, yet again, at her perfect skin tone as she kicked out of her boots and wiggled out of her too tight jeans. He denied her any modesty by pointing at her panties and grunting. With obvious reluctance, she pushed them down her legs and off her feet. He was gratified to see her golden fleece, confirming her natural blondness. It was neatly trimmed. His cock was rock hard as she crawled to him and lay across his lap. He moved around to get more comfortable.

He made her scoot further forward to get into a position of his liking. She was mortified. She had never done anything like this in her life. She she was, naked from the waist down, laying over some stranger’s lap, her white ass sticking up in the air. She could feel the cool air on her naked ass and thighs. Not having to look at him anymore, she closed her eyes. Krissie resolved not to cry, to take this entirely in silence. She would not give him that satisfaction. She felt him move and then his icy hand was on her ass. She fought the urge to get up and run. She felt his disgusting hand begin to roam over her body. As he began to play with the crack in her ass, she remembered that Arabs were big on sodomy.

She was trying to be still, but he could see her skin almost crawling. She had jumped when he touched her. She was much warmer than his hand. Running his hand over her firm flesh he instructed her. He told her how how this worked. “Krissie. Please listen. This is important.” He paused, until she nodded. “I am going to administer 20 strokes. You will count for me, lest I forget wherre we are. If, alas, you should forget to count. Well, we will have to start over. And, since this is for your own good, you will thank me for it. Do you understand?” He was beginning to play with her clinched crack. She gave him a chocked affirmative.

She twitched as his hand left her ass. Knowing she should relax, she tried. Then there was the sharp pain and the sickening smack. She heard him prompting her to play her part in this. “One. Thankyou.”

The girl had jumped, but he steadied her. Looking at her white ass, he could see a perfect red hand imprint on her smooth white skin. He raised his hand again.

The second blow was in the same spot as the first. The first one had surprised her. The second one really hurt. “Two, thankyou.” She had hoped he would play at this, but he wasn’t going to. He emphasized this by gripping her between his legs and holding her head down. She was surprised at how strong he was.

He smacked her again, in the same spot. She remembered to count this time. He struck her a third time. The red was spreading. When he struck her the forth time, he heard her burble. He continued to concentrate on one spot, for the fifth through ten strokes. The red was over her entire cheek now.

First her eyes had watered, and then she began to openly cry. She did not remember this much pain, not even when she had her appendix out. She blubbered, feeling her nose beginning to run. But she was determined to count. He went to the other side. At first this was a relief, but that didn’t last. At 18 she was sure she could not make it and tried to get up. He held her in a vise. Then there was only her crying in the silence. Had she Medi’s view, she would have seen that her ass was beet red. Krissie had never felt such shame in her entire life. To be a college student and be spanked like a 5 year old. Totally broken, or so she thought, she lay there across his lap, utterly at his mercy.

He shook his stinging hand. If he did this again, he would get a paddle or some such. His erection had died down a little. He took his finger and slid it into the crack of her ass. She was still crying and hardly noticed as he forced his thumb into her hole. She grunted as she realized what he had done. With his other fingers he moved further forward, finding her pussy lips. They were actually a little moist. “Oh. I think you liked this, yes?” He pushed his finger up the length of her slit, and her pussy lips quickly swelled with blood. “Perhaps your father pleasured you after each spanking, yes?” He probed around and found her rosebud.

The finger up her ass was uncomfortable, but he was skilled in finding her pea in the pod. She had never felt this mixture of pain and pleasure. She couldn’t believe it as she began to feel a delicious heat rising in the middle of her being. And she knew her nipples had hardened too. Without realizing it, she had spread her legs apart to permit him unfettered access to her womanhood. Not wanting to, she had to move her body to his gentle torture. She began to sweat and breath harder as he continued his relentless attention to her. Not wanting to, hating herself, she began to move to his unending rhythm. When he poised his fingers at the entrance to her pussy, she shamelessly pushed up against him. The pain and pleasure was creating a wild desire in her. An animal moan, often faked but seldom real for her, escaped her lips.

He had felt her twitch in a new, uniquely feminine way. “Ah. You do not play games with me. You like this.” She didn’t verbally answer him, instead matching his probings of her holes with thrusts back against him. He could feel his thumb through her inner skin. She was pushing back against his thrusts, vigorously. “The sounds. Yes. Make them. It is natural for you do to so. She bit her lip to be silent, but he had goaded her into surrendering even that. She began to moan, shamelessly, like a porn star.

Something clicked in Krissie’s brain. She needed a cock inside her, even this oily Arab’s cock. Writhing out from under him, she pushed him back down on the bed. Her blonde hair had cascaded over her shoulders and down into her face. Impatiently she pushed it aside so she could see. Pussy dripping with her wetness, she practically ripped his jeans apart. Suddenly, she had his manhood free, in her hand. Earlier this evening she would have entertained ripping the root from the trunk, but now she had a driving need for its primal use. It wasn’t nearly as big as Jerome’s, and it wasn’t circumcised, but she didn’t care. Straddling him, she grabbed it and lowered herself onto it. Then she pushed it into the hole of her pussy and stabbed herself with him. She was so wet that she had no trouble swallowing him whole. Pushing down on top of him, back arched, she spread her legs as wide as she could, driving him up into her as far as she could get him. And then, thinking at only the most primative of levels, she pumped him frantically. She began having lots of orgasms. She felt him tense and arch his back, lifting her up. She pushed down, even harder, trying to get more of him into her. Like the weak man he was, he soon emptied himself into her, squirting his Arab seed into her unprotected white belly. This triggered another screamning orgasm, after which she collapsed on top of him.

His manhood slowly deflated inside her. Through her jacket, he could feel her delicious, perfect white breasts flatened against his own chest. Gasping and panting, they slowly regained their rational minds. But the drug Medi had taken did its work. He found himself hardening again. Clearly she recognized that, and she began to move on top of him. When he reached up and began tugging at her jacket, she was quick to disgard it. Her pull-over sweater went over her head and her white cotten bra came off too. He reached up and cupped her perfect breasts, too stiff to be natural, and she cooed and leaned against him.

That had been the most intense, most mind-blowing orgasm she had ever had. She knew she should have hated herself, but she had felt such a wild freedom. She urged him back to life, feeling him inflate inside her. He was like the energizer bunny, fucking and fucking and fucking. She offered him all of her holes, and he took every one of them. She was amazed and in awe of his stamina, loosing each and every challenge she made to his manliness.

As dawn broke, Medi was almost totally exhausted. He had wildly fucked the cheerleader who pranced and teased thousands of cocks at each of the games. He took everything. She denied him nothing. He had made sure to use all of her holes. Before they had fucked for the first time, he had planned on sharing her with Grimes and Jarvis. But she had, unbeknownst to her caused him to claim her for himself that night. They could fuck this white pussy, or ass, or mouth, some other time.

Krissie sleepily awoke as he stirred beside her. She felt the van moving and she sighed, sore and totally contented by the sexual escapade of the night. When the van stopped, she began to get dressed, after he told her to do so. Fumbling around, she tried to find her underwear, but couldn’t. Feeling a strong need to use a bathroom, she gave up and pulled her pants on. She was dry enough, although encrusted, that she wouldn’t stain her pants. Pulling on her sweater and jacket, she got her boots back on, and climbed into the front seat. Her watch said it was 7:16.

Medi reached over to the rumpled blonde. She leaned against him and he guided her hand to his crotch. Knowing what to expect, she urgently undid his zipper, freeing him. She leaned over to his lap, and then found it more comfortable to kneel down between the two bucket seats. In short order he was hard again. And then her head was bobbing up and down, simulating a pussy. He looked up at someone staring at them as he came yet again in her mouth.

When he opened the cargo door, she was nervous and charged up. When he hugged her, she found herself gluing her body to his, despite the chances of someone seeing them. She experimentally ground against his groin, but got no answer. She welcomed his hands slipping inside her jacket, squeezing her mellons. And, after a hand snaked down the skin tight crotch of her jeans to her pussy, she found herself humping against his motions. She was sad when he stopped and, not to gently, pussed away from her. Stinking of sex and depravity, she walked gingerly up the steps, soreness throughout her body. Not the least of that was from her bruised ass. Because of that, she remembered him every time she sat down in a hard, wooden classroom chair. She did not know that her panties now adorned the mirror of Medi’s van.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Krissie slowly recoverd from her night with Medi. She was on the way to patching up things with Jerome. It had taken him a couple of days to call her. She hadn’t really minded, since she was going through an unexpected period. And when she did see him, he still had bruises and a slight limp. Neither of them spoke much about what had happened. And the rumors of her night out slowly died down.

About two weeks after their ‘date’, Medi punched up Krissie’s cell phone number. He knew that the drug had reset her biological clock. Fourteen days was the optimal time to put a baby in her belly. It was 11:30 on a Thursday. The phone rang a number of times before a girl’s voice answered. “Krissie. This is your friend from the van.”

Krissie, was on her way to a lab in the Psych Building. When she heard his voice, she froze. Standing there in a stream of people, she didn’t know what to say or do. “Um, hi.”

“I need you to come to my apartment. Now.” His cock was already hard. He briefly stroked it.

Krissie didn’t know what to think. She pushed her way through the stream of milling students and leaned against a rail protecting the second floor window from students leaning against the glass. “Why are you calling me now? I did what you wanted me to. And I have a lab I need to go to now.” Her knees felt weak.

“Krissie. I will decide when you are done doing what I want you to do. And right now, I want you to come to my apartment. You have until noon to get here. Do you know where I llive?” He knew very well she didn’t.

“Oh please. I need to make this lab. Won’t you give me a break?” She was torn. One part of her was still angry at his callous plundering of her body. Another part, supressed, had liked it. She had gotten off with him like no other man she had ever been with.

Medi grinned. She still had spirit, not yet broken to the saddle completely. “I won’t ask you again. Either you come, or you don’t. You know what the consequences will be. I live at the Garden Arms Apartments. Apartment 2669. That is down University Avenue. Do you know where it is?”

She felt a thrill of fear. But it was tinged with something else, anticipation. “I guess I can get an extension from my TA. I wish you had given me more notice.” She made sure she had the address correct, even writing it down. And then she dashed off to see her TA, getting an extension from him, in return for a very warm and adoring smile. And then she hoofed it off the campus and down University to the large apartment complex that seemed to have no particular architectural style.

Medi waited for her to come to him. He reasoned that, if she showed up within a few minutes of the time he had specified, she would not have time to bring any of her bully boy friends with her. If she did, he would not answer the door. This was Kelly’s apartment anyway, and she would be able to play dumb if there were any questions.

At four minutes after noon, Medi heard the knock on the door. He looked through the peep hole, seeing her standing there. From his fishbowl view, she was wearing a pink sweater and jeans. He could see no one else, so he was pretty sure she was alone. He opened the door, and there she was. Her pink sweater was quite snug. And her tight, low cut jeans left an inch of bare midriff showing. He guestered for her to enter.

Krissie hadn’t been sure what to expect. But she wasn’t particularly shocked to see a naked, hairly little Arab standing at the door. She noted that his rod was deployed, ready for use. As she entered, she refused to jump when his hand slid across her denim protected ass. She went a ways into the standard little room, hearing the door close behind her. She turned to face him.

Medi snapped his fingers and pointed to his throbbing member. He saw her eyes flash for the smallest of moments, and then her cheeks flushed. She started to walk to him when he snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor. She stopped momentarily and then went down on her knees. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor, again. She went down on all fours. Another snap of her fingers and she was down on her belly.

Krissie felt totally humiliated as she crawled across the floor to him. When she got to his feet, her head was pressed against the floor by his bare foot. She endured it, acknowledging she was in his power. When he let up, she arched her neck and head back to look up at him. He was pointing to his foot. It didn’t take much to understand what he wanted. She kissed his foot, and then began to lick it. When he rotated his foot up, she began to suck his toes, trying to get just of few of them into her mouth.

Having established his supremacy, Medi pulled his foot away from the prostrate blonde. His cock was dripping with pre-cum. He didn’t trust himself if she wrapped her mouth around him. “Get your pants off, bitch.”

The B word stung. But what else was she? She started to set up, and his foot forced her down again. She started to turn over, and he stopped that as well. She got the message. On her stomach, she kicked out of her tennis shoes. Then she reached under her body and unbuttoned her sweater, getting enough buttons undone that she was able to pull it over her head. As she undid her bra, the cheap carpet was scratchy on her smooth white skin. The button and zipper of her jeans were next. Still on her stomach, undulating like a marine animal on land, she slid them down, and kicked them off, along with her white cotton panties.

Medi had to resist his impulse to grab his rod. He would have lost it all over her if he had. When she was done, he stepped around behind her and kicked her legs apart. He gazed down at her exposed slit, admiring her two holes. Dropping to his knees, he grabbed her by her hips and pulled her up on her knees, keeping her head down on the carpet. Takiing his brown member, he jabbed it into her pussy. It was wet, waiting for him.

Krissie was embarrassed at how easily he slipped into her as she pushed back against him. Feeling her breasts swaying, she matched his thrusts, feeling her excitement grow. And then, all too quickly, he had her hips in an iron grip and he was squirting his sperm into her. And then she was swept away in one of his mind shattering orgasms. She could hear herself moaning as she was reduced to an animal. Little did she know or care that his sperm, propelled by her orgasms, quickly reached her unprotected egg. And one of them ate through the cell wall and disappeared inside, ahead of the thousands of other competitors. She slumped down as he pulled himself out of her. She turned to him, hopeful for more, but he was already standing up.

Medi walked over to the table and grabbed the package. He tossed it to her, but she clumsily dropped it. “I am throwing a beach party in a few weeks. And I want you to come. This is what you are going to wear. You can bring a date or not. It’s up to you.”

Krissie, setting on the floor, looked up at him. “But I thought I had done everything you wanted me to do, and you wouldn’t, um, bother me any more.” She could hear the whine in her tone. She frowned as he shook his head. She wanted to argue with him, but remembered the bruises on her back-side. Not knowing what else to do, she tore open the package. And she was holding a tiny, thin, slinky, two-piece gold bikini. She had never worn anything quite like this. But she was going to find out what it would be like.