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

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Medi Junior Part Nine - Party Time Second Half

Darker Is Better

Smiling, Medi reached into the bowl. Holding up the ticket he called out to the murmuring crowd. “Would the holder of ticket number two please come forward. As they say on the TV, come on down.” He knew there was no number two. The crowd was looking around, “Should we wait for number two?” They roared no. “You are so impatient, so quick.” The crowd laughed. He reached in and picked another number, The hour glass figured girl, was attired in a small golden bikini. From the proud jutting out of her breasts, she was clearly not a natural 37. She had been his first blackmail conquest, spanking her ass until it was beet red and then screwing her until the sun came up. He felt his manhood stirring at the thought.

As she got up on stage, Krissie could remember everything he had done to her, first in his van, and then in his apartment. On stage, she found herself trembling. She listened as best she could to his explanation of how the game was to be played. She dreaded it, but didn’t really have any choice. Escorted to the wheel, she spun it. DARKER IS BETTER seemed a pretty bad choice, but the were all bad. She was betting she was going to have to admit to sex with Blacks. But it was better than going to jail. As a cheerleader, she had teased a number of Blacks, but always under the protection of a strong white boyfriend. In fact, her night with Medi had been the first time a nonwhite had been in any of her holes.

Sasha sneered at the cheerleader. She just knew all cheerleaders were sluts and whores. Otherwise, how could they carry on in pubic in the way they always did. This bitch had everthing coming to her. And it took no imagination to figure out this girl’s fate.

Medi’s friendly smile masked the pleasure he felt at her demise. From the nervousness of the girl, she had to suspect what was coming. From the very male laughter of the crowd, they strongly suspected what was going to happen, too. Medi knew that American males had split personalities on this. They deeply resented and feared the mixing of races, especially when their women were involved. On the other hand, they seemed to take particular pleasure at white girls being reamed. Medi could sense the crowd’s impatience to get on with this. And he really wanted to stick it to her. Medi almost felt sorry for her. But he also needed to make an example of her.

Krissie could hear the murmuring of the crowd and felt like a piece of meat on the stage. But she was a cheerleader, used to men lusting after her body. Her stomach was fluttering. She looked nervously at Jerome, her tall date. He was looking warily at the two minders next to him. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t go home with him tonight. She wondered if she would go out with a nice white kid again. Her smile trembled and then steadied.

His cock was stirring, yet again. He wouldn’t mind screwing her again, making an Arab baby in her white belly. But that was for later. “Have you every fantasized at being fucked by a black man?” He could almost see her heart beating faster. A vein in her forehead throbbed. In a small voice she mumbled something. “Now, Krissie. Please speak more loudly. After all, you are a cheerleader, right?”

She felt her hands shaking. “Yes. I have thought about what it would be like to be fucked.” The N word had slipped out before she knew it. She could see the Blacks all around the room stiffen at the word. Jerome turned and left the room. Medi peeled off $100 and handed it to her. The hooting crowd assumed she was in this for the money, and she blushed. Around the room, some of the guys were nudging each other. Girls looked on with as much greed as their dates. They could picture her being stuck on a black cock.

Medi knew she was already ruined. But the biimbo didn’t seem to understand that yet. “Are you ready for another question, or should we stop?” She nodded for him to continue. Now he was holding up two bills. “When you are around Black men, do you try to figure out how big their cocks are?” She started. “As a bonus, have you checked any of them out tonight?” Her eyes were almost popping out of her head.

Her eyes were fixed on the floor until he snapped his fingers, reminding her she was supposed to look at him. She knew her checks must be glowing bright red. She clinched her teeth, groaning at where this was going, and shook her head. She became afraid that he might kick her off the stage and then turn her in to the police for drug use. Closing her eyes, she nodded. But he wanted more. “Yes, I size up black cocks. But I haven’t done that tonight.” The crowd laughed, suspecting a different answer.

He stepped up beside this sailor’s wet dream. He put his hand around her waist. She trembled. He winked to the crowd. “You have earned $500. Do you want to continue, or stop?” She nodded. “Has a black man ever sucked your tits, or finger banged your pussy or ass?” He was holding up four bills. He could see from her body language she was going to deny it.

She remembered the other times he had gripped her waist. She was almost gagging at this. She was ruined if she answered. She shook her head no. She had seen the way some Black football players had looked at her and she knew they wanted her. She was now hoping she could limit her night to just one of them. Medi was holding up more money for her. She could see the look in his eye. She felt his hand slip down onto her ass. He pinched her and she flinched a little. Her spanking was still fresh in her mind. And his hand was inside her bikini, wandering around her crack.

He loved how his hand slid over the slinky material she was almost wearing. But she didn’t particularly pull away. After all, he knew her better than anyone did. And she had enjoyed more than a little of it. He was holding up eight bills now. He was sure glad he had signed that deal with the adult film company to take his raw footage. Otherwise, this was getting to be just too expensive. He massaged her ass, nearing her crack. Then she became defiant in claiming to have been sucked and finger banged. “Did you have a good time? Is one of them here tonight?” Per plan, before she could answer, the starting Wide Receiver, Rick, yelled out that Krissie had a hot little number and they had had a super night at his pad.

Diane laughed with the rest of the crowd. Despite her own problems, she thought this stupid piece of fluff was about to get her reward. And a foot of black meat was just about right.

Krissie could feel the sweat running down her chest. This was horrible. As he asked her if she wanted to go on, he was warning her that she had to make a choice between going to jail or being his play thing. She was unaware her tight bikini bottom was starting to stick her her, revealing every secret of her blonde body. Then he asked her if she had ever had sex with a Black Man where he had been in her pussy, mouth and ass. And, which did she like best. But she knew she needed to just get to the end. She felt him fondle her ass, snapping her out of her indecision. “Yeah.” And he wanted to know what? “I’ve been fucked by a Black Man in my mouth, pussy, and ass.” He was dangling the money in front of her, wanting to know what she liked best. “The pussy is always more fun.” When he wanted to know what position, she grabbed the money and wouldn’t answer him.

He moved away from her, turning to the cheering crowd. “Well. Here we are. The moment we can stop and you can keep your money. Or go on. What is it to be?” Her long blonde hair was matted with sweat, and her skimpy gold bikini was so tight. She was breathing heavily. With her nipples poking through her top, she looked like she was ready to be fucked. Her dazed look showed she did not yet know her life, as she had known it, was over. “Are you ready?” The crowd was. “Are you willing?” He paused and the room laughed,

She knew it was coming. He was asking her if she would be willing to go out with a Black man. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded. He required her to say it. “I want to go out with a Black Man.” He prompted her further. “For the weekend.” There, it was out. She took a deep breath, seeing other men mimic her breathing, just like they always did. Maybe she shouldn’t have had the augmentation of her breasts. This was the point where this had all been moving anyway. Looking up, she could see Black men edging toward her. Having seen him do it before, she waited for the ‘oh by the way.’ He explained that she would pick a group of them. He wanted her to do some cheers for them. Then, somehow, they would bid on her and the high bidder wins. This was someone’s cheerleader fantasy and she was right in the middle of it.

Medi was rock hard, again. “Here is the mechanism. You will pick six Black Men and do a cheer for them. They will be inspecting the merchandise as you do the cheers. They will bid on your services. And the high bidder wins. Do you understand?” She nodded. For some reason her tits took that moment to jiggle so nicely. So did the black men in the room, judging from their ugly male laughter.

Sasha edged away. She could sense the animal atmosphere taking over. And, for once, having a strong male at her side seemed like a good idea. Protection was something she didn’t normally worry about.

The ‘by the way’ was she would have to select the men with the biggest cocks. Except for the odd magazine, she had never seen a black dick. But she knew that was about to change. Still red faced, she turned to the salivating males, crowding around below her. With fascination, she watched as some of them pulled their black meat out. Her mouth was dry but her palms were sweaty. She wanted to look and didn’t want to look. He ordered her to sort them biggest to smallest. They came in all sizes, some very thick and others very thin. She decided to go with length. She felt a sick thrill.

He loved it. So did the guys, as their cocks came to attention. “Please, Krissie, why don’t you get a closer look? Go ahead, kneel down and get a good close look. After some hesitation, she began putting them in order. There was grumbling as some of the men were moved down to the end. It only took her a minute to do it, and then she stood up. Medi stepped forward, pressed $100 into the hands of the losers and asked the six winners to move over to a cordoned off area.

Krissie was directed to step behind a curtained area and change outfits. Leave the bikini for someone else, okay? She went behind the curtain and found an X-Rated version of her own cheer leader outfit! There were the boots, but they were thigh high with 4” heels, and red insted of white. And the red skirt was a slinky red, with a slit up the right side. Of course, there were no panties. And the red sweater was of very look weave, cut way too low, and guarnateed to leave a foot of bare midriff. She wiggled into the skirt, trying to pull it down over her ass and pussy. The sweater was way too tight, and almost impossible to keep her breasts inside. And the boots were no fun either, with the heels forcing her ass to jut out, invitingly. Teetering on the heels, she pranced back out.

Medi had been instructing the lucky contestants on how this would work. Their dark faces were darting between him at the curtain she was behind. “Krissie will lead the first cheer, to get you all warmed up. Then you will bid on her top.” One of the guys was almost rubbing his crotch.” The winner gets to take it off of her. But don’t be too rough with her, okay?” They laughed, imagining how they would do it. “Then we do the cheer again. Another bidder will get to take her skirt off. Then we cheer.” More male laughter.” Then we bid. The winner gets her boots. Then we cheer.” The mention of boots drew another, ugly, laugh. He wondered why that was. “Then we bid. The winner gets her for the weekend. All clear?” They had it down.

She was moved to a stage above them. They were looking at her, practically drooling. The cheer was one of those spell the word cheers, where she would have to mimic the letter with her body. The phrase the sick bastard had picked out was F-U-C-K K-R-I-S-S-I-E. As if the blacks below her need any hints or encouragement. She just hoped she would be able to avoid a gang bang. She had never done anything like that, and hoped it wouldn’t be required of her tonight. She wondered if she would get to keep the money.

At some unseen cue, a CD banged out a rhythmic beat, to which the crowd began clapping. As she started into the cheer, she was trying desparately to keep from showing her body parts, but nearly fell as a heel caught. She contentrated on staying upright. And so she led the cheer. At first it was mechanical, but her cheerleading instinct took over and she began to get into it. It felt so liberating to be able to lead a cheer like that. She was an exhibitionist, but it had never been as explicit as this.

Diane was laughing. This was the perfect punishment for a cheerleader. After all, they were there to sell sex. And this was just a little more honest than in the past.

She finished, having given it her all. She was a little sweaty, and breathing hard. The Arab invited the men to bid on her sweater. They were clearly saving their money, so they went for $30. She started to step back as a huge Black she had never seen advanced on her. He slapped her hands aside and, without bothering with the finer points, ripped her top from her body. She was still reacting to the stinging sensations when he reached up and fondled both of her tits, his black hands in sharp contrast with her pale white skin. He was surprisingly gentle. For that she was grateful.

No longer encumbered, her tits jiggled and flopped every which way. It was uncomfortable, but the males loved it. And, to tell the truth, she could feel her nipples harden. So came the next cheer to fuck Krissie. Then it was time for her skirt. It went for $40 to the Wide Receiver who claimed to have felt her up earlier. He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, forcing his tongue down her throat. Her body felt so soft and vulnerable against his hard, muscled body. Then he reached down and ripped her skirt apart, holding it up to his nose to smell as he stepped down.

Then, with just the ridiculous boots on, she led the obscene cheer again. And then there was the bidding as she stood, looking on. One of the offensive linemen came up on stage with her. She held out her foot and he reached down and picked it up. He unziped each boot, caressing her legs as he did so. She managed to avoid him actually getting to her womanhood, at first. But his persistent fingers found her womanhood anyway. Only with some encouragement did he step back down.

She led the final chorus of ‘Fuck Krissie’. She ended in the required splits, looking out a her potential dates. She was bought and paid for with a final bid of $423 by Marcus Lincoln, point guard for the basket ball team. He stepped up on the stage to claim his prize. Looking at the leather clad bundle of muscle, she felt totally vulnerable.

Medi, his latest triumph almost complete, cut in over the hubbub of noise. “All right. Here is how it works. Marcus and Krissie will go on their date now. A cab is waiting at the front door to take them to the fabulous Pine Tree Hotel, downtown. Monday morning, before checkout at noon, a cab will pick them up and bring them back to the campus. Since Krissie doesn’t have any clothes left, maybe Marcus will loan her his coat, or maybe he won’t. After all, she did use the N word to describe African Americans. But don’t punish her too much Marcus, she just needs to be taught better.”

Buddy Can You Spare A Dime?

Medi was particularly looking forward to this one. In his country, women knew their place. Only in countries like this did women presume to be the equal of men. He went through the charade of dipping in for a number. And then he called it out, number three. He watched her head snap up, and the crowd began urging her forward. Shamed, she came forward. He invited her to identify herself. He was amused that she had closed her eyes, trying to deny all of this. She gave her name. He asked if she were head of FLA. With a burning face, she corrected him, saying she was only the Vice President. The crowd hooted in derision. They were licking there chops. He invited her to do a 360 for the crowd. He commented that she had a nice ass. He could see her skin almost crawling.

He took her arm and she supressed a need to pull away from him. He guided her to the wheel. There were only two slices left. One probably dealt with prostitution, and the other with gang bangs. Both thoughts were gagging. She knew she was finished as President of her Sorority. She was probably finished in the Sorority itself. She didn’t want to spin, but finally did so. He held up some money, as if she were doing this for money. The wheel went for a surprising distance, considering how little effort she had put into it. It came up, ‘BUDDY CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?’ She was surprised when he jumped straight into it.

Diane was stunned at the latest contestant. There was no chance that Sasha would ever, willingly, do this. Clearly, the Arab had something on her. As the crowd focused on Sasha, Diane looked at the last item, knowing that it dealt with group sex. She prayed she wasn’t the one tonight.

Medi held up $100. He winked at her. “Have you every wished you were a prostitute? Maybe earning your living on your knees, or on your back, or some other position?” She only nodded, and Medi was getting tired that these stupid bitches couldn’t follow directions. “May I remind you of the rules? You must give me an oral answer.” The crowd laughed at that line and what was going to happen to this ‘libber.

Sasha cringed at the laughter. There was no sympathy from that quarter. “Yes. I have wished I were a prostitute.” Then he wanted to know if she worse slutty clothes with the intent to turn on her partners? As a matter of fact, she had done that for Sean. She shook her head negative, not wanting this to happen. More money went up. He asked her again. God, people must think she would do anything for money. “Yes. I wear slutty clothes to turn on my dates.” She took the money. When he asked if anyone were here, she denied it. She could see his expression, reminding her that he was thinking about her brother.

He knew who she dressed for. He knew who she tried to turn on. But that would come out later. “If I might. You have a very nice rack, do you not?” He told her she had a nice rack. She looked mortified, but finally nodded. He stepped closer, looking down her front. “Is it true you let men look down your blouse to get things from them?” She shook her head again, turning away from him as he stood on his toes trying to look inside. He held up eight bills. “Please think. Are you sure?” She sighed, audibly, and said that she had done that. He doubted it very much. He gave her the money.

She was breathing more heavily than normal. She didn’t care that it caused her chest to heave and her breasts to jiggle. But she knew they had done three questions, and were almost done. He offered her the chance to take her winnings and cash out, or to go on. By his count she was holding $1300. It was a ridiculous game. She knew she had no choice, but she forestalled the final for as long as she could. She felt so alone, standing there by herself. She finally nodded.

His cock was hard, again. He really needed to relieve himself in one of these American sluts. But, first, business. “Have you ever fucked a TA or a professor to get a better grade?” He watched as she looked around, desperately. If she were looking for a white knight to come and rescue her, it wasn’t going to happen tonight. He held up the eight bills and raised his eyebrows. She was having trouble forming her words.

Diane wanted to answer for her. Silently she urged Sahsa to tell him to go to Hell. But, deep down, she knew if she were in a similar spot, she would have no choice either.

The question was one of the many Sasha thought he might come at her with. Still, no words would come to her mind. She moved her lips but nothing came out. He was waving the money in her face. She finally found her voice. “Yes, I slept with one of my professors.” She hadn’t. He wanted her to be more specific. “I fucked a professor to raise my grade.” She had always been smart enough to avoid that trap.

And now they were at the part of the game which would lead to her final humiliation. “Are you ready for the final question?” She was looking at the floor so he took it for a yes. “Are you willing,” and he paused while the crowd laughed, “to call one of your current professors to TAs and get them to spend the night with her in a hotel?” She refused. It took four tries, all told, before she nodded, totally defeated. When he pointed to his mouth, she vocalized that she would do it.

Diane was craning her neck, along with everyone else, to see what would happen. Sasha was toast. There was nothing left except to enjoy it.

The last question, the killer, was finally on the table. And Sasha had agreed. She felt numb and distant, not really here anymore. She stood there as he explained how this would be done. They had already made up a list of who she was to call, complete with phone numbers. And she was supposed to call them in the order prescribed. Her job was to get one of them to join her for the night at the Lone Pine Hotel. She imagined that it was some tacky place that rented out rooms by the hour, and that a single bed filled the room up.

He explained how this would work. “To make it easier, we have prepared a list, complete with phone numbers. All you have to do is go down the list until you score.” The crowd laughed. “And we have a special place where you can make the calls.” He looked at a booth which had just been unvieled from behind a curtain. “All you have to do is convince one of them to join you at the Lone Pine Hotel.” She was trembling and sweat was dripping from her brow. “We do seem to be giving them a lot of business tonight, don’t we?” The crowd laughed loudly.

Then she felt his hand on her arm as she was guided over to a door she had not noticed before. She stepped inside. There was a simple table, a metal folding chair, sure to be cold, a phone, and a digital clock. Then, as he was leaving, he told her she had 20 minutes to get herself a date. He always seemed to have a final twist of the knife as his parting shot. With that, the door closed.

Sasha looked up as the 20 minutes was replaced with 19 minutes and a dwindling number of seconds. Not having time to ponder her fate, she picked up the list. Her heart sank. Dean Richard Whitaker, Doctor Claire Heiberger, Doctor Bjorn Norris, and Professor Steven Clark were on the list. What were they going to think of her? But she had to protect Sean. He was getting a good start with that Wall Street legal firm and their secret would destroy him.

With a trembling hand, she picked up the phone and dialed Dean Whitaker’s number. The phone rang three times before someone picked it up. She was hoping no one would answer. A woman’s voice said a sleepy hello. “Is Dean Whitaker in?”

Looking up, she could see the crowd straining forward. Obviously, they were listening in on her conversation. The woman wanted to know who this was.

She took yet another deep breath. “I am one of his students. My name is Sasha DiMicilli. Is Dean Whitaker there?” There was some muffled voices and then he was on. She had butterflies in her stomach. She identified herself, but he was still less than totally alert. He wanted to know who it was again. She repeated her name again, and said she was a student in one of his classes.

It finally penetrated his sleep adled mind who he was talking to. and his tone became more frosty. She had taken him to task several times on ‘woman’s issues’. She was wincing at the thought of some of the things she had said. “I was wondering if I could speak to you about my grade.” He asked her if she knew what time it was. “Yes, I know it it pretty late, but it cannot wait.” He was incredulous. Gulping she took the final plunge. “I’m down at the Lone Pine Hotel, and was hoping you could come by and talk to me about my grade, tonight.”

She held the phone away from her ear as he bellowed about seeing her in his office first thing Monday morning to discuss whether she had broken the honor code. Then the line went silent. The clock read 00:16:21. The crowd was roaring with laughter.

Tears were in her eyes. She went to the next person on the list, her mentor, Claire Heiberger. Sasha wondered if she might actually take her up on this. She had seen the looks the professor had given her more than a few times. She dialed the number. A woman voice answered on the second ring. It was Doctor Heiberger. “Doctor Heiberger, this is Sasha DiMicelli. Am I interrupting anything?” The Doctor was puzzled, and pointed out the hour. If something were troubling Sasha, she was welcome to come to her office and talk about it. Sasha blundered on. “Actually, I need to talk to you about my grades, now. I’m down at the Lone Pine Hotel and wondered if you could come by.”

There was a dead silence on the other end of the line. “I really, really, really need to see you. Please?” Then there followed a lecture on betraying the sisterhood of progressive females. She accused Sasha of being a slut and a whore, and slammed the phone down. The clock read 00:12:03. The crowd was practically rolling on the floor.

Sasha was beginning to panic, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. What if she couldn’t get anyone to come see her. She decided she had better start laying it on thick. Instead of demanding that they come, she had better persuade them. Lines from movies and TV shows flooded into her mind. She punched in the number for Doctor Bjorn Norris, a guest lecturer from Sweden. The phone rang four times before a man’s voice answered. “Doctor Norris?”

She was relieved when his accented voice answered. “This is Sasha DiMicelli. Are you doing anything right now?” He said he had just been getting ready for bed when she called, and wondered what she wanted.

She decided to be more suggestive. “Are you alone right now?” She gagged at the words coming out of her mouth.

Puzzled, he said he was. “I was just thinking of how you look at me, sometimes, in class.” She heard his strangled laugh. “Are you seeing anyone right now, I mean a girl friend or anything right now?” The man was flustered, but he had been eyeing her, and every other woman in his class. The pig seemed to be undressing her with his eyes.

He said he wasn’t really seeing anyone just now. “Maybe you would like to do something tonight?” He said he had no idea she felt this way, that he had never gotten any signals that she was interested in him. She was almost gagging. “You seem so graceful in class, like an athelete. Do you work out in the gym?”

He agreed he did. “I was wondering if you would like to show me some of your workout?” He wanted to know what, in particular. “Well, I was hoping to get to know you better.” He asked how much better. “How much better do you want to get to know me?” He laughed and said something about knowing her in the biblical sense. Feeling like a common whore, she laughed, too. “That’s what I was thinking too.” He asked if she would like to come over.

At that point Medi opened the door and signaled for her to read something. She asked him if he could hold on for just a second. She put her hand over the phone. Medi told her that a car would pick the professor up and take them both to the Hotel. “I would just love to do something with you. I will come by and pick you up, okay?” He gave her an address about six blocks from the Mansion. She said she would be by in about 20 minutes, and they could go somewhere special. He agreed.

Sasha felt drained, and was surprised to find herself covered in sweat. Sasha was pulled from the booth, back to the platform. He said she needed to dress special for her date. He held up a tiny silver tube dress. With nothing else for it, she tossed her bikini aside. Taking the silver dress, she wiggled into it. She tugged it up, stuffing her tits inside it, and then tried to tug her hem down. She was almost in the position of covering her breasts or covering her pussy. She was very worried what she would look like when she sat down.

Medi came forward with an atomizer, and sprayed her with some perfume. It assaulted her sense of smell. It was the stuff cheap whores wore to cover the smell of their profession. With a slap on her ass, Medi sent her strutting out the door to the waiting auto. This time, it was a limo. It was rigged to record the beginning of her adventure with her professor, as well as the room they were headed for.

The More The Merrier

Medi’s cock was throbbing unmercifully. He could see a number of men discretely brushing their hands on their crotches. So, too, did a surprising number of females. “Well, we are down to the last piece of the pie.” He motioned to the wheel. There it was. ‘More the Merrier.’ He shook his head and offered apuzzled look. “I wonder what that means?” There was knowing laughter in the room. It was pretty obvious what it meant. “Well, shall we find out who the lucky winner is?” The laughs of glee readily answered the question. He reached in and took out a number for the final time. He invited number 13 to come on down.

Diane groaned. There she was, holding ‘lucky’ number 13. She wanted to run, but there was no where to go. Pushing away from her date, a nobody she had asked out, understanding her likely fate. She knew how she must look. Her hair was up in a pony tale, a convenient handle for blow jobs. Her bikini top prominently displayed her D size breasts and clearly showed the color and shape of her nipples. The band-aid size bottom barely covered her mound, and disappeared between the cheeks of her ass. She felt as if her 3 inch fuck me heels caused her to jut her ass out, and she was almost prancing to keep her balance. That, in turn, got her breasts to swaying. And her red face screamed her humiliation.

Medi, now standing beside her, watched her nipples harden and begin to poke out. He slid his arm around her bar midriff, pulling her to him. She tried to brush him off but not too hard. He ran his hand along her skin. It was soft and creamy and white. God how he loved fucking American girls. He felt her shudder but stayed put.

In his grip, she crossed her arms under her breasts, feeling totally ackward. The stupid heels, not something she normally wore, were making her feel wobbly too. Her skin crawling, but she also had butterflies in her stomach. She realized she hated him. But, in a sick way, she wanted him too. Although he was a bastard, she had experienced, simply, the best sex she had ever had. He continued to move his hands over her. She resisted the impulse to run or to lean against him as his hand wandered down to her ass for a quick squeeze.

He turned to the crowd. “Pretty nice, is she not?” The crowd clapped in approval. He nodded and turned to the morified girl. “So, you are Diane Sattler, right?” She nodded to him. “As I understand it, you are headed for Magna Cum Laude, is that not so?” She nodded again and the crowd murmed at the the paradox. On one hand she was supposed to be pretty smart, but here she was looking like a bimbo.

And then he was asking her if she understood the rules. What else could she do but agree. She understood all of the rules, completely. And she was stuck with the final category, ‘THE MORE THE MERRIER’. She assumed it was about group sex. So, too, did the crowd from some of the comments she could hear. She didn’t have any, or rtather, much experience with this subject. Until the night in the van, she had never experienced anythng like that. And his men had actually each done her just one time, compared to the numerous times he had used her.

Holding up $100, Medi waited for the crowd to quiet. “Right. Question one. Have you ever fantasized about being captured by wild savages and repeatedly raped?” There were whoops of delight from some of those in the audience who fancied themselves wild savages.

She felt almost sick to her stomach. She had not had a great deal of experience with men, letting only two drive it home with her. That is, until the other night with Medi and his two men. It wasn’t that she dislike men. She wasn’t a lizzy or anything like that. She had not had time for men. She shook her head no.

He held up a second bill. “Are you sure?” She still shook her head no. He held up a third bill and said nothing. She gave another shake. He gripped her by the waist, forcing her side fully against his. Leaning over he whispered into her ear. “Get on with it! Either that or the world will learn that you are an academic fraud. He could feel her trembling.

She really had no choice. She reached for the bills. And she paraphrased the question in her answer. “I’ve fantasized about being captured and raped by wild savages.” The crowd laughed, knowingly.

Medi turned to the crowd and rolled his eyes. “Question two.” He was holding up two bills. “Diane. You like going to the movies, yes?” As she nodded she reached for the money. “Be patient, my dear.” The crowd chuckled. “While in the theater, have you been felt up?” She had frozen against him. “Did he get his hand in your pants?”

She looked out on the unpitying crowd. Then she looked at him. No one was ging to rescue her. She was totally alone. Something in her mind off. “Yes. I’ve been felt up at the movies.” He held the bills just out of her reach. “They got up my skirt.” And then she had the money. And she felt his hand running over her exposed flank, down the bare skin of her hip. It was causing her to have goose bumps.

“She is such a good sport is she not?” The crowd laughed, leaning forward to hear what was next. “Question three.” He was holding up three bills. “You have gone on double dates, yes?” She nodded. “Did the other couple ever see you fucking your date?” She momentarily tried to pull away from him, but he gripped her tightly.

She had seen him do it to the other women, and she knew how cheap and eager to make money she looked. She rebelled again, not thinking $300 was worth it. She didn’t think $600 was worth it either. Then he slapped her on the ass, making a large sound. She could hear the crowd laughing and someone saying that was how to treat a girl. He was now holding up twelve bills. She caved in. “Yes. I got fucked on a double date. The others could see hiim doing it to me.” She grabbed the money. God, what have I done to my reputation?

“Did you do both guys that night?” He was holding up another $1200. She nodded, and then remembered to vocalize it. He had expected her to deny it, and had only been asking it to play to the crowd. But, he had deviated from the script and been rewarded with a bonus answer. She could hear and see her breathing hard as her aroused breasts heaved up and down. And her skin was becoming shiny with persperation.

In her dazed state, she was mildly surprised to learn they were at the point where, in theory, she could stop. But no one had, and she wasn’t going to either. His body language clearly communicated his threat to her. He waited on her, and waited on her. She had no more choice than the other girls. “I guess I’m ready to go on, okay?” The eyes in the crowd were hungry, hungry for her humiliation.

The crowd approved. “Question four. Have you ever fucked two guys at the same time? Which holes?” He could feel her sagging against him. He was tracing a pattern on her ass. She no longer fought him.

She knew her que. “Yes. I’ve fucked two guys at the same time.” It was a total lie. Surely the crowd had to know that, somehow. He asked again which holes. “Pussy and mouth.” She reached out and took the money.

They were down to the final question. Medi turned to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen. She had been a very good girl, has she not? I believe she deserves a round of applause.” The crowd was hooting, knowing it was time to find out which deed she would be paid to perform, something which took very little imagination. He disengaged from her. He could feel the coolness on his body where she had practically been glued to him. “Remember, you must answer the question or loose everything, right?”

She swallowed before nodding. Her smallest movements were amplified by her breasts. Then he told her he wanted her to pick six dates for a weekend at the lovely Lone Pine Hotel. She looked at the five bills being held out. But she was not ready, yet, to engage in her second gang bang. She found herself shaking her head. She immediately regretted it, hoping she had not blown it. When he started to pull away, she leaned closer to him. She couldn’t afford to miss out now.

Medi was surprised when she refused. But he noticed she was leaning against him. Winking, he held up an additional ten. “After all. We know what kind of girl you are, don’t we? We are just settling on the final price.” He grinned as she took the money.

She felt a sick thrill, a feeling of helplessness. To her hard nipples she could add a damp pussy. But she had no idea how to pick the men. She was not surprised that he got it rolling by asking wanted to date her. She was dismayed and gratified that eleven men wanted her. She was also disappointed that others did not. Their attention was divided between the Arab and her. But everytime she moved at all, their eyes would jerk to her, drinking her every wiggle and jiggle in. It didn’t make any sense to her that so many did not want her.

“I will ask you some questions. The answers will pare you down to a smaller group. After all, we wouldn’t want to hurt her, would we?” They were all eyeing the nearly naked brunette, imagining what they might do to her. “How many of you had sex before coming to the party? No, not you Diane.” That brought a laugh from the crowd. Three raised their hands, not enough to make a selection one way or the other. “How many of you are wearing underwear?” He asked how many were wearing underwear. Four raised their hands. “Sorry. Maybe next timie, okay?” That left seven of them. He still had to get rid of one of them.

The group did not look too bad. She hoped she could get the number down to six. And she was relieved when he told her she would have to make the final cut. And that he wanted her to rank them in order of their hairiness. It was hard to keep from gagging at the thought of course male hair scratching at her own clearn, smooth white skin.

Medi turned to her again. “Are you ready?” He waited until she gave him the smallest of the nods. “Please gentlemen, to remove your shirts so the lady may inspect you.” Some of them gave him a funny look, but the lust was overtaking their own inhibitions. “Please to drop your trunks as well.” This was probably unnecessary since the hair on their legs was readily visible. He turned to his victim again. “Yes. Now, please rank them.”

A disgustingly sick thrill went through her stomach straight to her pussy. She rank ordered them as best she could, trying not to look at their cocks, but she could not avoid seeing the stiff rods that were going to be inside her. Four were extremely hairy and the other three less so. She could feel her own sexual excitement rising. That left her with two Whites, one Arab, one Hispanic, and two Blacks.

Medi grinned at the utter humiliation the girl was inflicting on herself. “Please to remove your clothes.” If it was possible, she blushed even harder. She kicked off her 3” fuck me heels. She pulled the top over her head, freeing her breasts. They jiggled enticingly. It was all he could do to keep from caressing them. And she pulled off her skimpy bottom, not that it had hid much at all. She was shaven. Now all she was wearing was the scarlet wash skin that proclaimed her shame.

She heard the Arab inviting this gang to claim their prize. They grabbed her by her arms, and pulled her to them. She felt herself being tilted over on her stomach, and her tits swung down. But they weren’t lonely for very long. Almost immediately both of them were being fondled, some hands more rough than others. And her pussy was quickly invaded. Someone made a joke about it being wet alread, which was true. And other fingers were suddenly up her ass. Still other hands were grabbing at her hair or stroking her bare flesh. She was carried out of the room to the van, knowing she was in for a long night. The happy group was headed for the Lone Pine Hotel. She did not yet know that the Arab had been able to get contiguous rooms for all of his girls going to the hotel. The aroused men would migrate from room to room and the girls would get little rest this weekend.