From: an409775@anon.penet.fi (Stroker Ace)
X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories
Date: Fri, 5 Jul 1996 19:40:17 UTC
Subject: New: Ashley's Prom M/F PG17
Ashley's Prom
This story may be distributed electronically provided it
is complete, unaltered and with this statement intact.
The author maintains all rights to this story.
(c) 1996, Stroker Ace
`Ashley's Prom` is entirely a work of fiction.
"Searching for a boy in high school is totally useless."
Ashley's Prom
In the tiny room behind the stage, a young girl sat.
Her bare legs were tightly crossed, she flicked her free
foot nervously. A black pump tottered from her toes. Now
and then she flexed her foot and the shoe like an obedient
dog snapped to her heel. She would hold it like that for a
moment or two before relaxing again, the pump dropping only
to sway at the end of her foot.
Such an obedient shoe, Mr. Bixly thought. So lucky.
To be summoned by her feet. To service her toes. To look
up past miles of leg to that most holy of triangles.. Mr.
Bixly felt himself stir, bounding to life in his pants. He
re-crossed his legs.
"Stop that. Take it off right now, young lady."
It was an order but still there was something
distinctly alluring in the way that the teenager so very
smoothly without the slightest hint of hesitation or
question reached down and slid off the offending shoe.
Slowly it dawned on Mr. Bixly, it must be. A submissive. A
true submissive. By nature. It had to be. The way she
took it off. Just handed her last piece of clothing to him.
All his life he had dreamed of meeting a true sub, and now
the most fragile of beauties sat before him. Nude, barely
covered by the remnants of a gown. Ashley held the shoes by
two fingers at the back and handed the satin heels to her
principal.
Mr. Bixly took the pumps in a soft fleshy hand. Tiny
shoes the pair barely filling his hand, light as a feather,
he read the name, Candy, made in Italy. Size six, printed
in gold. The heels so thin and long. Barely worn but still
warm. From her. God, he was going to burst.
It was impossible to think of Ashley as a senior
anymore. It never was easy. But especially not now. Not
after what he had just seen. The thought of her completely
nude under that white sequined cloth was too much. He was
bone hard now, swollen in his Sears trousers with no desk to
hide behind. Still growing, obvious to all. She was
looking at him.
"Act your age, young lady. You are in a very serious
predicament. Your entire future, not to mention your
reputation, or what's left of it, is in jeopardy. You have
completely ruined one of the most important days of the
entire graduation class at Point Hope High." Miss Grundy
stood and deliberately stepped in front of the principal.
Thank God for Miss Grundy. The assistant principal had
bailed him out again and gotten the meeting back on track.
Mr. Bixly was sure that Miss Grundy had seen him growing,
knew that he was getting his jollies. He would have to pay
her back. Maybe he would humiliate one of the young
football jocks in front of her. Perhaps a strip search, a
spinster like her should like that.
Miss Grundy continued, "Not only ruined it for your
classmates but for their parents, ruined it for the faculty
and ruined it for Mr. Bixly and I. The local TV station was
there for Christ sake! Your parents are on the way over. I
will have to explain what happened to them!"
Mr. Bixly, trying to regain control of the situation,
stood and walked in front of the seated Ashley. He looked
down on her blond head. Silky hair, so long, cute little
nose, mouth done hot red, round heart shaped open a little,
just the right height for his ... He fought to remain
focused, "Umm," cleared his throat. "Young lady, suppose
you tell us, exactly what happened. From the beginning, in
your own words, Ashley."
+++
"OK. Ok. You are probably going, `Is she like a slut?
Or what?' But hey, I actually got like a way normal life
for a sixteen year old HPV girl."
"HPV?"
"Oh sorry. Hope Point valley."
"I go to school. Work a few hours at the Taco stand.
And do homework. Like, I have absolutely no social life.
None. Daddy wants so much for me to have like good grades
and all. He wants me to be so Stepford, you know. So like
all year, you know, I have been doing this book thing. Like
trying to keep a C average. Its not easy you know."
"Anyway its like pure guava. I am happy, kind of in a
sort of bored way, you know? Then like, this semester, you
know, Becca came to the stand and like actually talked to
me.
"Becca?" Miss Gurndy asked.
"HELLO? Rebecca. Totally Betty, energizer bunny Becca.
Oh my God, she is like WAY popular."
"Rebecca Morison, in Mrs. Schnider's home room," Mr.
Bixly explained. "Jet black hair, big.... I mean, well
developed."
"Anyway we talked, I mean not just tacos and diet coke
stuff but like girlfriend talk. I could have died. I never
had like a Guess Girl, to hang with before. She was so
neatospiffywow! She hung with those German mafia guys, you
know the Bimmer crowd. You got to drive a German sports car
to hang with them. Brad was there too. Ohhh. His parents
must be rich but he won't talk `bout them.."
"Well, like in no time, Brad was goofing on me. He is
so Barbie dream! Jeepers! I was hanging with Becca,
sounding with Brad, it was so dreamy. Only Brad and Becca
were kind of like that Tasters Choice couple on the tube.
You know, always exchanging glances and such. Well, we were
crusing the mall, my girlie friend and I when Becca
suggested a makeover. For me. I was totally paused.
"Makeover?"
"Girls get together to do their hair and face," Miss
Grundy explained.
"Becca said that Brad was interested in me, but I had
to look more Octopussy. She did a complete redo, then we
went to the mall. Becca was like TOTALLY mommie dearest.
She like insisted that my fashion taste was in the toilet.
I just had to wear this or that. I said `whatever'. There
is this shop in the mall called Frederick's, Becca just went
totally ape shit charging everything in sight on my parent's
plastic. She said that is what Brad liked. Well you know
Becca is not EXACTLY a virgin. So I said `whatever'. I
thought I looked like a slut when she had me wear the
outfits to class, but the German mafia hung with me. No one
would give me any shit with those guys around. They are
like SO popular. So I wore their outrageous outfits.
Whatever."
"They would take me with them to the coolest clubs and
stuff. It was so nifty. It was like I was their mascot or
something. I would have to ride with other guys when Brad
wanted me too, but I didn't mind, it was major fun. All the
guys would look at me when I walked in. Tiny leather skirt,
thigh highs, platforms, rib ticklers. Brad and Becca kept
cutting my tops, higher and higher until they just barely
covered my pink. The girls would all whisper and stuff.
Becca said they were just jealous and stuff. That's why I
got the belly and nose ring. To drive them wild. I went
everywhere in their Bimmers. Brad let me drive once! Me
driving a BMW!
"Do you have your license, young lady?," Mr. Bixly
asked.
"Er, no?"
"I have heard a lot of complaints about those boys,"
Miss Grundy stated. Ashley, did those bad boys try to take
advantage of you? Tell the truth. I can tell if you are
lying."
"No Miss Grundy."
"Ashley?"
"No. Honest. We would go to the beach at night, you
know, under the pier, but nothing happened."
"Ashley?"
"We just played suck and blow. That's all."
"You blew Brad?" Mr. Bixly's voice sounded almost
envious.
"It is just a game that the kids play. They pass a
credit card from mouth to mouth without using their hands by
sucking on it," Miss Grundy explained. "Ashley, that
usually leads to something more. Do you remember what I
taught you in Sex Ed. Class?"
"Yes Ma'am. We just kissed a little and the boys wanted
to play touchy feely. I didn't enjoy it. Honest, Miss
Grundy. When they finally got my clothes off they found
that I was serving the crimson wave. I had to haul ass to
the ladies. When Becca saw that I used tampons she insisted
that I change to bulky pads. So Flintstone, but it shut her
trap. Whatever. Going to beach with them wasn't too bad.
I did some things for them and they let me hang with them
all week. No one bothered me at school, `cause I was with
them."
"Well graduation was coming up. I am not a slacker or
a loadie, you know, but my grades had gone to hell. I was
toast. But the greatest thing about being a Senior is that
the teachers all want to get rid of you, to send you off to
Jr. College or whatever. So I passed. Totally freaked me
out. That's when it started. Becca, was first."
"I was in the back seat of Brad's car. I had quit that
lamer of a job. Who has time? We were jawing about the
prom when Becca suggested that she pick out my prom dress.
Said that she knew this dress maker in the city that could
do something special. I guess, she made costumes for
Becca's step mom. You know, she dances professionally.
"Yes, I am familiar with her dancing. Er, I mean I
have heard about it," Mr. Bixly quickly corrected himself.
"Well I tried, Miss Grundy. I really did. But, you
see, Becca and Brad really had my ride ticket. They could
and did make me do anything. Totally. I just couldn't say
shit to them. Well actually I did say no but it never did
any good. I was so afraid that the dress would be something
trashy. My parents would see it and I would be char-
broiled. But it actually turned out to be totally awesome.
Ashley moved to show the dress, forgetting for a moment
that feathery fabric was the only covering for her bare
body. She quickly pulled the dress to her breast, carefully
positioning the bunched cloth in her lap.
"Dreamy Brad picked me up with the BMW. Daddy acted
like he wasn't impressed but he was really ga ga. He took
like a zillion pictures and stuff. Brad was all Nutrasweet,
kissing up and stuff. But like at the first gas station he
like pulled over. He had like felt my bra. Bummer. He
likes to touch me. Nothing bad, its just that he says
that's what I am for. Like anyway he stops the Bimmer at
the gas station and like tells me to take it off. Tells me.
Whatever. He wants me to take my panties off too. I am
like in a womanly way, you know. So he asks if I am wearing
a pad like Becca told me too. I tell him yeah. Dick Tracy
has to raise my dress to check. I am of course, cause
Becca and Brad well they like to check me out, you know. I
don't want a soap opera or anything so I go the ladies and
take it off, throwing them in his lap. After that, he is
cool, all sweet and lovey dovey and we are off to the
prom."
"Totally awesome. Pure guava, it was great. Dream boat
was the envy of all the bitches. We danced. It was like a
Hallmark card commercial or something. Definitely a Kodak
moment. You saw me Miss Grundy. Wasn't I the loveliest
girl there. Wasn't I?"
Ashley look up at the principals. For the first time,
tears stained that pretty face.
"You were lovely, dear."
"I was totally clueless. When the music stopped and
Brad lead me to the steps, I went up on the stage. I didn't
know what to expect, but I thought it was all planned out.
I guess it was. All alone on stage the whole school was
looking at me. The TV lights were on me, I felt so dorky.
Then I saw that beautiful corsage on the stool. The note
said to pin it above my heart. I saw the fishing line tied
to it, but didn't think anything of it. I had to do
something, everybody was looking. Becca was out there. I
saw her. She nodded her head, and I pinned the corsage to the
dress. Then yank, just like that and that damn dress just
flew apart, leaving me standing bare ass naked in front of
everyone. God I was even wearing that God awful pad. I wish
I were dead!
"Honey, the dress was made to tear away. Made for a
stripper." Miss Grundy lifted the seam of the dress. "See
how weak the stitching is."
"What was left of the dress was hanging over your head.
You tried to jump for it, but it was just beyond your
reach," Mr. Bixly said.
"The whole school was laughing. There was nothing to
cover myself with. I had to jump naked for it, like a
trained porpoise at Seaworld. The more I jumped the more
they laughed. No one would help me. So I jumped again and
again. Eventually I climbed up on the stool and pulled it
down."
"Everyone was taken by surprise, dear."
"Brad claims he doesn't know anything about it. He
says he was with you all afternoon. He has a airtight
alibi. I think we should just let this incident drop," Mr.
Bixly said. "After all, there is no reason to believe that
my son had anything to do with this unfortunate situation."
-Stroker Ace-
Comments welcome
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