Assume the Position (1 of 3)
-- by lightswitch (C) July 2007

(FF, lesbian), teen, (reluctant, some nonconsensual), (interr,
interracial), (white female, wf; black female, bf), humiliation,
(high school Phys Ed class setting), 1st time

Note: See TrunkJunk's graphic adaptation of this story, starting at 
http://beta.renderotica.com/gallery/showimage.php?i=25888&catid=member&imageuser=32865

===========

"Christine Marshall!"

Beth waved, unable to keep the surprise from her face. "I didn't
expect to see *you* here!" my friend called, jogging across the
crowded school gymnasium to join me. "You've been missing this
class for almost two full months!

"Yeah, yeah," I waved off her exclamations. "I thought I could
ditch Phys Ed all year and take the F, since my other grades are
good enough, but it seems they won't let us graduate unless we
get a passing grade in PE." I sighed in frustration.

Realization dawned slowly on Beth.  "We have to pass PE to get a
diploma?" she asked. "That sucks! We have to get out of high
school *now* if we want to get into a decent college by the time
we're 18!"

I nodded glumly. "I'm already 18," I said, "but you get the
picture. I *hate* PE! I hate getting all sweaty and out of
breath, but old man Moss dragged me into his office and told me
that if I skip even *one* more class, including PE classes, he'd
fail me ... and that means I wouldn't graduate this year. So ...
here I am."

I scanned the crowded gymnasium. About 60 girls were milling
about. "So, what's on today's agenda?" I asked, in resignation.
"More dodgeball, I assume?"

Beth grimaced. "We wish!" she said. "Ms Washington has been
teaching us *wrestling*."

Ms Washington was a tall, square, muscular black woman with
extremely dark skin and close-cropped bleached-blonde hair. She
was probably in her early 40s. She looked like a combination
ex-Marine and current-biker, and her harsh mannerisms did little
to change that perception.

"Ms Washington is a dyke," I stated, flatly. Beth laughed.

"Actually, you're probably right," she whispered. I looked at my
friend in surprise.

"Rumor has it that she scouts the Senior PE classes," Beth
continued, "looking for suitable submissives. She makes the
selected sub her `Assistant' and they go to her office ... for
the rest of the year. She leaves the running of the PE class to a
`Squad Leader.'  The good part is: Both these girls get A's. The
bad part is ... you can probably guess the duties of the
Assistant."

It was my turn to laugh. "Get outta here!" I scoffed, giving her
a shove. "Are you serious? Washington culls a sex toy from the
Seniors in the Phys Ed herd and some `Squad Leader' gets an A for
telling everyone else to do calisthenics?"

The wheels in my head were turning. I wondered how I could assume
that Squad Leader position ...?

Beth seemed to read my mind. "Rumor also has it," she said, "that
the trick to getting the Squad Leader position is to put on a
good show during the wrestling final exams - which are today! 
They say that Ms Washington is a lesbo dominatrix-type and gets
off on seeing pretty, big-titted girls subjugated. The girl that
puts on the most dominant performance becomes the Squad Leader.
The one who is most humiliated ..."

"Becomes the Assistant," I finished, pondering this new
information. It seemed logical that the partner of anyone who was
judged `most dominant' would, almost certainly, be judged `most
humiliated.' So all I had to do was really `top' one of these
other girls during a wrestling match ...

"OK, ladies!" the big Phys Ed coach called, interrupting my
reunion with Beth. "Pair up for your final exam match!"

I looked around the `herd,' trying to spot a likely candidate to
be my partner. Who would be best one to improve my chances of
assuming that Squad Leader position? It had to be someone
extremely attractive, very feminine, big tits ... and, most
importantly, someone whom I could physically dominate.

Almost immediately, I spotted my mark: A beautiful Filipino girl
named Li.  She was about four inches shorter than me ... maybe
5'2"? And although she had a slight frame, she sported breasts
that seemed very large, on such a slender figure.

"She'll be perfect!" I thought, already planning how I'd dominate
the pretty little Island girl and excite my dyke PE teacher's
favor.

"You," came a voice off to my right. "I pick you!"

I turned my head to see a fat black girl her pointing finger at
me. I knew her. Her name was Oprah Jefferson, a Nobody who didn't
belong to *any* of the school cliques. She was about my height,
maybe an inch taller, but she *really* outweighed me.

Oprah had a noticeable gut, but what really caught one's eye were
her massive ass and tits. Her backside was enormous - if two
girls lay side by side and she sat on them, her ass cheeks would
still almost touch the floor! Her breasts were almost as big,
threatening to burst the strained fabric of her gym shirt. Her
huge, floppy tits looked a bit droopy and I could see large dents
where her big nipples were poking up in her jersey.

With a start, I realized Oprah wasn't wearing a bra!  That could
only mean ...

"She knows about that `Squad Leader/Assistant' position rumor!" I
thought. "And she's trying to pick *me* as her foil!"  Part of me
was flattered - she must have figured, like me, that the more
attractive the sub was, the more effective the performance would
be. And I *did* have an impressive rack, I had to admit.

But mostly, I was pissed. I already had a plan and *I* was going
to assume that Squad Leader position! Though her tits were
certainly huge, Oprah wasn't pretty enough to be an effective
partner for me to top. Also, she was big ... even though she was
a fat cow, I wasn't certain I could take her.

"Sorry, Jefferson," I sighed, brushing past her, "I've got
something else in mind."

But the fat black girl had something else in mind, too.  She
grabbed a handful of my jersey, just below the neck and above my
breasts, which strained the already-stretched fabric even
further, and swung me around to face her.

"You ain't listenin', pretty Chrissie!" she whispered, pulling my
face close to hers. "Ah *said* I wanted *you*!"

I slapped her hands away and smoothed my stretched gym shirt. Out
of the corner of my eye, I saw Maryanne Butler swoop in and claim
my pretty Filipino.

Damn!  My target partner had been snatched up.  Worse, as I
scanned the gym, it looked as if all the rest of the girls had
now paired up.

It looked as if I was stuck with this orca.

Anger welled up in me. "Fine!" I spat. "You want me? You got me!
Let's go!"

We were off in a corner, close to the gym teacher's station. The
entire gym floor was covered with thick, blue mats, so I
immediately began circling my foe.  If I was stuck with Pudgy,
I'd have to make the best of it.  My mind raced, trying to figure
how best to attack and knock her off her feet.  Once I had her
down, I could get down to some serious domination ...

Oprah watched me with amusement.

"Girl!" she laughed, "Ain't you been paying attention at all
these past few weeks?  This ain't no WWF! This is high school
rasslin'!  One girl gits down on her hands and knees, the other
assumes the top position. *Then* we start."

I glowered at her. "I want the `top' position!" I yelled, cutting
off further explanation. The black girl looked at me and just
smiled.

"OK," she said, simply, dropping to her hands and knees.

I looked at the kneeling girl, her fat black ass jutting up into
the air and those huge, floppy black tits hanging down. There had
to be some way to turn this disaster into a positive. What were
the chances that Washington was the type of dyke to get off on
seeing fat black chicks dominated?

"Probably not good," I thought. Still, this was all I had to work
with.  maybe some exotic positions or extreme humiliation would
make up for Oprah's lack of looks.  The fat girl wasn't *ugly*.
She just wasn't pretty.

I knelt next to her and tried to get a good hold on her fat body.
She sighed in exasperation. "Not like that!" she scolded,
repositioning my hands. "Hold me here and here."  I let her
reposition me and then gripped her tightly. This bitch was going
down!  But I'd have to be *especially* rough and dominant with
such an unattractive opponent, if I was to impress my lesbo gym
teacher and get that Squad Leader position!

Maybe I could sit on her face ...

"Go!" Oprah called, remaining motionless. I lunged against her,
intent on tipping her on her side like the fat cow she was.  The
black girl's bulk worked to her advantage, though; I found I was
unable to budge her. I strained and heaved, but Oprah maintained
her position, on her hands and knees, smirking. This went on for
three full minutes.

"My turn," she said.

I'm not exactly sure what happened next; all I know is that she
certainly moved fast for a being such a big girl.  Before I knew
it, she had shot one leg backwards and somehow spun those thick
legs so that she was no longer on her hands and knees. To my
amazement, I found that *she* was now grabbing *me* from behind!
I was beginning to regret cutting all those classes; I realized I
didn't know the first thing about wrestling moves or tactics.

One big, black hand snaked around and clamped itself over my
chin, pulling my head back. I found myself pulled upright, on my
knees, legs spread wide, with both my hands clutching the thick
arm holding my head back. She had me bent slightly backwards, her
grip on my head pushing my butt down between my ankles, giving me
no leverage to escape.

Though her grip forced my head back to face the ceiling, I looked
"down," and saw Ms Washington sitting about 10 feet away, in a
metal folding chair, a look of rapt attention on her face, as she
watched us. The wall behind her was mirrored and I did not like
what I saw in that reflection: A pretty brunette, forced back on
her knees and effectively immobilized by a thick-bodied black
girl.
"Damn!" I thought. "This is not going well!"

I felt Oprah's hot, wet tongue trace a path along my ear and her
other hand reached around to gently brush my jersey-covered
breasts. My traitorous body responded to these caresses and my
nipples stiffened, obvious to anyone watching.

"The bitch is topping me!" I realized, with a flash of panic. I
began struggling wildly in the big girl's grip.

Oprah's other hand found the hem of my gym shirt and slid
underneath.  She snaked her arm up until her fingers grasped the
edge of my sports bra.

Then she pulled.

It was a struggle for her, because my sports bra was tight and
barely contained my big, white tits. But the strained elastic
finally pulled free, dropping down around my waist.  My breasts
bounced free, although still in the firm embrace of my tight gym
shirt. I felt my face go red.

"You *bitch*!" I hissed, under my breath, writhing franticly in
her grasp.

I felt her thick, moist lips on my neck as she began kissing and
licking me. She sucked hard, leaving a trail of large, painful
love-bites on my pale, previously-unmarred skin.  The hand
pulling my chin back finally released its grip and my head
dropped forward. But the big arm fondling my breasts still held
me firmly.

I could hear the big black girl begin to breathe heavily ...
hotly ... on my neck and the persistent nudge of her knuckles
against my shorts-clad backside told me the fat bitch was rubbing
herself.

She was getting off on this!

I surged forward and almost broke free, but her big right hand
stopped molesting my tits long enough to let her clamp her thick
arm firmly around my upper waist, just below my breasts.

"She has only one hand to hold me!" I thought. With both my arms
now free, I pried at the thick black arm imprisoning me. Her grip
was loosening.

I was starting to break free!

Unable to hold me one-handed any longer, she grudgingly brought
her left hand out of her shorts and wrapped it around my face,
again, pulling my head back, cruelly.

Her palm was wet and dripping, sealing itself over my nose and
mouth. A familiar aroma filled my nostrils.

"Oh *fuck*!" I gasped, my exclamation muffled in her big,
smothering hand.

That was the hand she'd been using to get herself off!

Still slick with pussy juice, her big hand had wrapped itself
firmly around my lower face, its damp, sticky flesh forming a
perfect seal around my nose and mouth.

I couldn't breathe!

My eyes widened in fear as she pressed her strong hand firmly
against my face, forcing my head back, against her shoulder.

I found myself looking directly into the eyes of our gym teacher.
Ms Washington's dark face looked flushed and she repeatedly
licked her lips. No one else in the gymnasium seemed to be aware
of what was happening to me. Evidently, the sight of a girl's
big, black hand wrapping itself around another girl's pretty
white face was a turn on for this degenerate lez, even if the
aggressor wasn't that attractive.

I struggled, but the smothering was taking its toll. My vision
began to dim and lights flashed before my eyes.

As my struggles grew more feeble, the fat girl's other hand got
bolder, loosening its grasp around my upper waist and slowly
creeping southward.  Finding the band at the top of my gym
shorts, her questing black hand smoothly slid past the elastic
and caressed the pale, white flesh beyond. I was only dimly aware
of that hand, my attention focused on the big, wet, stinking mitt
that was clamped over my face and smothering the life out of me.

That is, I was unaware of that other hand until I felt it slide
down between my legs.

My body tensed and I felt a jolt of unwanted pleasure. Her big
hand had crept inside my panties and was cupping my pussy,
rubbing and caressing until my traitorous body began responding.
My slit grew wet and, she sighed victoriously, as she let her
thick, dark fingers slide between my tender, pink cuntlips.

I moaned softly as the big black girl continued rubbing my slit,
my body trembling at this erotic violation. The hand-over-mouth
smothering was also taking its toll: My consciousness was
starting to slip away, even as her other hand furiously rubbed
and fondled my vulnerable dark-haired snatch, arousing me to
dangerous levels.

"Want to breathe?" she whispered in my ear. "Want some air?" I
nodded, weakly, shamefully aware of my debasement in front of our
dyke gym teacher.

"Lick my palm," she ordered. "Lick the pussy juice from my hand
and I'll let you breathe." She had said that just loud enough
that Ms Washington could hear.  Furiously, I shook my head.  "Go
to hell, bitch!" I tried to shout. But it was muffled behind that
big, smothering black hand.

"Have it your way," Oprah sighed, increasing the pressure on my
lower face.

I moaned, partly in weakness from my lack of air, partly as an
aroused response to the thrusting fingers of her right hand,
which had finally focused on my throbbing clit.

I was light-headed and I could feel consciousness fluttering
away. My slim, white arms felt weak and seemed impossibly small,
framed against the thick, black arms of the fat girl holding me.
Slowly my grip on my tormenter's big arm weakened, and my
nerveless, pale hands began sliding ineffectually down Oprah's
fat, black arms.

I was passing out.

Tears of humiliation coursed down my cheeks as I shamefully
extended my tongue and took a tentative lick of the black girl's
damp, cunt-befouled palm.

I had to breathe!

"Oh that ain't gonna do it," Oprah chided. "Come on, white girl!
If you wanna breathe, you gotta gimme what I want!"

Crying openly, now, I began fervently licking her slick, wet
palm. The taste of cunt was pungent and the taste in my mouth
made the smell in my nose even more intense, making my head spin.
True to her word, though, she removed her smothering left hand
and went back to rubbing herself, but not before securely pinning
both my arms behind me, between her body and mine.

I gulped in precious air.

Her insistent right hand was having its way with my pussy lips
and throbbing, exposed clit. Waves of red-hot ecstasy were
sweeping across my body and brain. I found myself whimpering
softly, in shameful pleasure. Weakly, I tried to lean forward,
thinking to break free.

But that big left hand came back up and wrapped itself around my
lower face, again, smothering me. Panicked, I immediately began
licking my dominatrix's wet, sticky palm, trying to ignore the
fresh coating of pussy juice it now sported.

My treacherous finger-fucked pussy was driving me insane,
dripping wet and throbbing with pleasure. I realized I was
dangerously close to climax.

I opened my eyes to see Ms Washington staring at us with
half-closed eyes, one hand inside her gym shorts.  That lez!

I couldn't let this happen! If I let this fat black chick force
me to climax, I'd never get to assume that Squad Leader position!

"Lick my fingers," Oprah ordered. Willing to do anything to get
some air and keep from passing out, I quickly obeyed. Oprah
pulled her hand away slightly and I took deep, ragged breaths as
I licked.  The big black girl traced one damp finger around my
lips, leaving a wet, odiferous trail.

Then she slid one fat finger between my lips.

Hot tears of shame burned my eyes as I began sucking her thick,
intruding finger, oblivious to the pungent taste of pussy in
which that finger had been soaked.  She slid two more fingers
into my mouth and three into my throbbing cunt.

"Cum for me, white girl," she ordered, using her thick, thrusting
fingers to fuck me in both ends. "Cum for me!"

My face was flushed and my wildly roving eyes locked with Ms
Washington's steady gaze. The gym teacher's thick, dark lips were
parted and she was actually drooling! She had one big hand down
her shorts and she was panting, as she furiously fingered
herself.

"Cum for her," the muscular black woman mouthed. "Cum for her,
white girl!"

In despair, I realized I was losing. I also realized I couldn't
take it anymore. My high-pitched, mewling moans of pleasure
intensified and, with a sinking heart, I realized there was no
way I could stop what was coming. I was about to lose,
completely.

When it hit, I almost lost consciousness. A powerful orgasm swept
over me, shaking my entire body. I tried to keep from screaming
in pleasure, but I couldn't repress a loud, shamed moan. I gagged
on Oprah's thick, thrusting black fingers as she drove those
pussy-slicked digits deep down my throat, but I was as helpless
to prevent her from finger-fucking my fevered mouth as I was to
prevent her from finger-fucking my spasming pussy.

My body bucked in the big girl's strong arms as she rode me
through my climax. I sobbed in burning shame, but was unable to
resist the waves of ecstasy that crashed down on me.

Finally, completely spent, my sweating white body fell limp in
Oprah's thick, black arms.

Slowly, triumphantly, she removed her dripping fingers from my
thoroughly used orifices.  To my amazement, none of the other
girls in the gym seemed to have noticed my finger-rape; all of
them were intently focused on their individual wrestling matches.

Oprah gave me a quick kiss on my forehead, probably avoiding my
pussy-smeared face, and then flipped me on my back.

"Time to make it official!" she declared, jumping on top of me.

I gasped as the big girl knocked the wind out of me. Laying her
fat black body on top of mine, she held me in a long, humiliating
pin, made worse by kissing and love-biting at my now-marred neck.
I realized that everyone who saw my love-bitten body within the
next three weeks would have a constant reminder of my
humiliation.

The black girl's weight was oppressive and I thought I was going
to pass out from the pressure. She held me down like that for at
least five minutes, as I endured her oral attentions.  After what
seemed an eternity, she finally got off from me and stood, posing
triumphantly, over my prone body.

"The winnah!" she announced, placing one large, black bare foot
on my upturned pale face. I was completely exhausted and couldn't
even roll away.

Ms Washington walked over on unsteady legs. It was obvious that
Oprah's performance had ended before the gym teacher could
achieve satisfaction.

"That was *excellent*, Oprah!" she praised the big black girl.
"Outstanding! I think there's no question that you are worthy to
assume this year's Squad Leader position!"

I blinked back tears. I'd lost the position!  That meant I'd have
to attend gym class every day and actually do Phys Ed stuff. I
wasn't athletic - I had always gotten by on looks -- so I'd
probably be lucky to get a C. Worse, I'd suffered a totally
degrading domination and lesbian rape at the hands of this fat
black girl.

The knowledge of my humiliation was bad enough, but when the
other girls found out - and they would -- I'd be ruined!

I tried unsuccessfully to stifle a sob as my gym teacher squatted
and helped me up into a sitting position.

"You, though, Christine!" she barked, standing and beginning to
pace. "You have absolutely no technique and no grasp of even the
most basic wrestling fundamentals!  If we're to get you up to
par, I can see I'll have to start training you personally!"

Could this *get* any worse?  Now, not only would I have to attend
PE class every day, I'd also have to start really exerting myself
- I couldn't slack off if Washington was personally right in my
face every day!  I tried to the hot tears I felt welling up.
Fortunately, the other girls in the class were all still
occupied, so no one was aware of the dressing down I was
receiving.

My misery was interrupted by two huge, dark legs that wrapped
around my waist from behind. They clamped onto my midsection and
squeezed the air out of me, immobilizing me in a crushing,
pythonesque scissor hold.

I couldn't breathe and doubted I could break free even if I
wasn't completely exhausted. My pale white hands beat
ineffectually at the strong, heavily-muscled legs that seemed
more like thick, dark tree trunks than appendages on a person,
and were squeezing the life out of me.

A thick, muscular, dark arm pinned my both arms behind me and
another big, black hand wrapped itself wetly around my lower
face.

That familiar scent immediately told me what that wetness was.

"Pussy juice!" I thought, as what little air I had was cut off,
yet again. Slightly different - heavier ... muskier ... but
unmistakably pussy juice!  It almost didn't matter - the crushing
pressure from those legs made it so I could barely breathe,
anyway.

"Damn you, Oprah!" I gasped into the smothering hand as I
struggled weakly. I was already exhausted and humiliated. She had
won! What was the point in continuing to torment me?!?

I was in serious danger of passing out again.

From my seated, embrace-pinned position, I was shocked to look up
into the smug eyes of the victoress of my recent wrestling match,
standing in front of me.

"Oprah?" I thought, dumbly. "But, if you're there ... ?

My eyes shot to the mirrored wall. There, I saw a big, muscular
black woman with short, bleached blonde hair - her massive, thick
black arms and legs entwined around a pretty, bedraggled
brunette, completely immobilizing the pale beauty, and clamping
one glistening black hand over the white girl's face.

That brunette ... me?!?

"Ms Washington?!?" I gasped, words not coming. My mind still
couldn't process what was happening.

"Christine," came a hot whisper in my ear, followed by the caress
of a thick, wet tongue. "You're coming to my office."

Those thick, muscular arms, far stronger than Oprah's could ever
hope to be, tightened around me. Those powerful legs clenched
tighter and I lost consciousness, as my captor lovingly whispered
in my ear.

"I'm making you my Assistant."