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."