Chapter 6 The one about the high price of high heels
CHAPTER 6
THE ONE ABOUT THE HIGH PRICE OF HIGH HEELS
The words still echoed in Tiffany's head: "You need someone older and wiser,
telling you what to do."
Sweet God, thought the befuddled, horny teenager. Her tormentors had even taken
something innocent and precious to her, "The Sound of Music," which she'd
performed in last year, and turned it into something she would now think of only
with shame and humiliation. She was being told what to do by men older than her,
but not the way the song meant.
"May I ask a question, please?" she asked meekly as Joe Black released her from
the handcuffs, freeing her trapped arms."
"Sure thing, slut," said Mr. Brown.
"What are those things you put, uh, you know..." She couldn't bear to bring
herself to say where she meant. "You know, inside me," she finished."
"You mean stuffed up your little teenaged pussy?" responded Brown. "Those are
ben-wa balls, baby. God, you really are such a child! They're hollow metal balls,
partially filled with mercury. Women use them to masturbate. They fit snugly up
inside that pussy of yours, and when you walk, they shift their center of gravity
over and over, stimulating the inside of your pussy. The sensations, I'm told,
are quite delicious."
Tiffany shuddered at the thought of these awful foreign objects inside her most
private place.
"The thing is, as I understand, a woman will usually sit in a rocking chair when
she has the ben-was in place and rock and play with her clit. The result is a
spectacular orgasm for the woman. For you, though, it's likely to be mostly just
an exercise in frustration, cause you're going to be walking around the mall. You
won't be able to finger yourself to get yourself off, although if you want to, we
probably won't stop you, so long as it's some place nice and public, like the
food court. Mainly, as we see it, you'll just be in a heightened state of
horniness for our little shopping trip."
Brown smiled diabolically. Tiffany, stunned at how much trouble they were going
to, just looked down and bit her lip.
The men helped her back into her clothes, all except for her bra, which they told
her she didn't need.
"Those 16-year-old tits are so perfectly perky you should never wear a bra,
babe," said Joe Black. "They'll get more bounce that way when you walk. Guys like
that!" Finally Tiffany was dressed - jeans, blouse, sneakers, no bra - and they
all got out of the SUV. She realized she had no idea where they were, that during
the long ride of torment she had been paying attention to what was being done to
her in the backseat rather than where they were going.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"This is Southlands Mall, in Bernard," said Principal White. "About 30 miles away
from town. We figured there's a lot less chance of being spotted and recognized
here than if we went to the mall back in town. Last thing any of us needs is to
be spotted hanging around outside school hours with our school's prettiest
cheerleader, particularly when she's doing what you're going to be doing here at
Southlands."
"Please, sirs, I'm begging you, can we just go home?" Tiffany implored. She was
trembling with anxiety, and still a little lust from being brought so close to
orgasm by the men and then stopped right before her climax.
"Of course not, bitch. We've gone to a lot of trouble to set this up," said
White. "Now listen carefully, because once we get inside, I don't want to have to
be repeating these directions for you over and over. You can make this simple, or
you can make this complicated. The simple way is you do exactly what we say for
the next hour, no questions, no tears, no trying to alert mall security, and
after an hour, we go home. The hard way is you give us any shit, or fail to
follow our instructions precisely. If that's the case, then my friend starts
sending out those videos. We'll probably be able to add a few more minutes onto
the part with the cock-sucking and the masturbating and the appearance of drug
abuse of little Tiffany, naked, singing "I am Sixteen, Going on Seventeen," if
Mr. Green here got a nice tight closeup that crops out the men to your sides.
"You understand so far?"
"Yes sir," Tiffany said quietly.
"So you're going to get yourself some new clothes tonight, stuff you can wear to
school from now on. Here's how it will work. We'll see something in a store
window and tell you what we want you to get. You go into the store, and one or
more of us will go in with you, but we will pretend like we're not together. You
don't acknowledge us, we don't acknowledge you. But we'll be keeping an eye on
you to make sure you keep our deal. You try on the item or items and make sure
they fit. Whether you like them or not is irrelevant. If we're doing our job,
you'll probably hate 'em, but tough shit. You take them to the cashier, who we'll
have scoped out in advance, and who will be male. Tell him you want to buy this,
but you don't have any money, and could you pay for it instead with a blow job."
White paused to watch her reaction.
The color drained from Tiffany's beautiful young face. "What?" she shrieked,
forgetting where she was. "I can't! I won't! I'll scream for help!" They were
asking to offer oral sex to strange men in a shopping mall.
"You scream for help, missy," said the girl's principal, "and out go the tapes,
complete with name, address and phone number. By the way, isn't your daddy
running for City Council? We better make sure we add his opponent, and the news
media, to the list of recipients. Make a helluva of a campaign issue! Charles
Daniel's Teenage Daughter in Sex and Drug Video Scandal! What a headline!"
"Stop! Stop! Stop!" shouted Tiffany, holding her hands over her ears as if she
could block out the torture. "I'll do it, I'll do it!"
"That a girl," said White. "So as I was saying, you offer the clerk or the
cashier or whoever the blowjob. Maybe there's a backroom you can use, maybe a
dressing room, maybe you have to go to the mall men's room and find a stall.
Picture that. Tiffany Daniels, the cock-teasing princess of Daniels High, down on
her bare knees on a men's room floor, swallowing a stranger's jism. It will
certainly be in your best interest, once you get started, to make it nice and
quick. Suck his cock, swallow his cum, and meet back up with us.
"Simple as that," concluded the principal.
Tiffany could barely speak. She started to hyperventilate in panic and outrage.
She wanted to cry, or run, or kill these men. None of those was an option. Her
only option was to do as they told her.
"Give me your purse," ordered Mr. White. He took the girl's purse and gave it to
Mr. Green, who stuffed it into his shoulder bag with the video camera. "Now you
have no money, no charge cards, no ID. You're not Tiffany Daniels, spoiled little
rich girl any more. You're the Blowjob Queen of Southlands Mall.
"Let's go," said Mr. White jauntily, and Tiffany and the four men walked to the
mall. Almost immediately, the sexy cheerleader felt the ben-wa balls start to
move in her pussy. It was a strange sensation, really rather pleasant. She was
still wet from her masturbation session with the dildo and then the
finger-fucking in the back of the Lincoln Navigator, and the slick balls slipped
and tumbled inside of her.
Their first stop in the mall was an upscale shoe store. White, who was clearly
running the show tonight, told her to stop, and the cheerleader and her
tormentors all looked in the window.
"I kinda like that pair there," said Old Joe, pointing to a pair of sexy black
open-toed pumps with 5-inch stiletto heels. The price tag in front of them read
$79.95.
"Nice choice, Joe," said the principal. "But do you think a blowjob even from a
stone-fuckin' fox like Miss Daniels here is worth $80?" There was no one else
standing nearby, and the men were talking about her like she was some sort of
street prostitute! Tiffany burned with shame.
"Oh, easily," said Joe. "I'm sure she lacks a certain expertise, since I haven't
sampled her yet, but just look at those lips. The chick looks so much like that
Kournikova girl that plays tennis, that's worth a lot right there."
"Well I've had a blow job from her," chimed in Brown, the math teacher who
started it all, "and while she's not a seasoned pro yet, when my dick started to
spurt down her throat, I would have gladly paid $500 on the spot. Course, I was
getting it for free!" He laughed, and the other men laughed with him. Tiffany
wanted to die.
"OK," said White, turning to Tiffany. "Go in there and get those shoes. You know
what to do. We'll be watching you. And do exactly as you've been told, or the
whole world gets a special video treat starting tomorrow."
The cheerleader swallowed hard. Her stomach felt like lead. She walked into the
shoe store, still feeling the metal balls churning and churning inside her pussy.
"Hi, excuse me," she said to the salesman. He was a middle-aged man, about her
father's age, but obviously just a clerk in a mall shoe-store at night: a little
dumpy, dressed in polyester, no wedding ring. His pin= on name tag said Jim.
"May I help you, miss?" His eyes glittered as he took in the ravishing teen girl
before him.
"I'd like to try on that, uh, pair of shoes in the window," Tiffany said
nervously, pointing.
After Tiffany gave her size, the clerk went to get a pair from the window, and
she sat down. White and Green had entered the shoestore and were standing at a
display, pretending to be engrossed.
Jim returned with the shoes and tried them on her feet. Tiffany stood up - Whoa!
They were by far the tallest heels she had ever had on. She swayed precariously
and grabbed the clerk's shoulder for balance. He grinned and quickly slipped his
arm around her waist, as if to steady her, but actually just to brush up against
that firm teenie flesh.
"Take a few steps and see how you like them," the clerk said. He was so engrossed
in Tiffany that he hadn't even noticed the two male "customers."
Tiffany took a few wobbling steps. Normally a healthy five foot seven, she was an
Amazon in the shoes, six feet tall. She could feel the muscles in her legs moving
differently than they ever had before, stretching and pulling, and she also felt
the ben-wa balls inside of her moving in a more stimulating way. The heels
changed the way she walked, she realized, causing her to thrust her pelvis out,
arch her back to maintain her balance. She was starting to walk more like a
provocative slut and less like the normal teenaged girl she still desperately
wanted to remain.
As she wobbled around the store, getting used to the high heels, her large,
lovely breasts bounced more than usual in her blouse. Freed of their bra, the
nipples rubbed against the cotton fabric and the stimulation began to make them
erect. Soon her teenaged nipples were poking straight out through the shirt, with
no bra to hold them back. All the while, the ben-wa balls stuffed up inside her
rolled and rolled, a constant reminder of her horniness.
She walked back to Jim and spoke to him in a low voice. "Can I talk to you
privately, please?" she whispered.
Jeez, thought Jim, what's up with this chick? The middle-aged clerk saw her
nipples poking out, obviously braless, and now she was coming on all
husky-voiced. He took her by the elbow and steered her toward the back of the
store, with Tiffany hobbling and wobbling along, trying to keep up.
"I, uh, mister, uh," she stammered. She could barely make herself speak the
unspeakable words. But her two tormentors were still in the store, stealing
covert glances at her, and she knew what the penalty would be if she didn't
follow through: not just humiliation in front of her friends and family, but
Internet postings of her name and address that could get her stalked and raped.
The beleaguered cheerleader forced herself to do what she must. "I don't have
money for these shoes, but I really want them," she blurted out. "If you'll let
me have them, I'll, uh, you know..." She stopped again.
"No, I don't know," said Jim, but his cock was beginning to get an idea. It
stirred in his slacks. What was this little slut up to?
"I'll, uh, make you cum."
"Yes!" thought Jim. "Thank you Jesus!"
"I think we can work something out," said Jim. "Excuse me, gentleman," he shouted
at the two men hovering in the front of the store. "I have to close up for a few
minutes. Out ya go!"
Mr. White and Mr. Green exchanged smiles and willingly left. Jim slid the glass
front of the store closed and locked it.
"I'm all yours, little lady," he leered. "Now more specifically, what did you
have in mind?"
"Can we go in the back room?" Tiffany said quietly, close to tears.
Jim steered the trembling schoolgirl into a backroom, and unbuckled his belt. His
pants fell to his ankles, and Tiffany could see the outline of his erection
throbbing in his jockeys.
Tiffany took a deep breath. She could either drag this out and take all night, or
get it over with and get home, safe in her own bed. There was only one way out.
She dropped to her knees in front of the clerk, pulled his shorts down, and
engulfed his cock in her warm teenaged mouth.
"Oh yeah, baby, suck that rod," the salesman said. "You can have all the shoes
you want anytime you want, baby."
It was the first time young Tiffany had given a blowjob on her own. Her first
time she had been drugged and her mouth little more than a receptacle. The second
time, her principal had fucked her mouth and forced her. Now it was up to her to
figure out what to do.
It didn't take long for the girl to learn. The salesman held the sides of her
head and started sliding his cock in and out of her mouth.
"Use your tongue, baby, and lick the underside," he ordered. She did, running her
pink tongue along the bottom of his shaft and then around its thick purple head.
"Oh yeah, baby, that's it."
Tiffany felt the cock moving in and out, sometimes pushing so far into her mouth
that she almost gagged. She didn't even think to use her hands, and it didn't
occur to Jim to tell her, because it wasn't necessary. Jim had had three blowjobs
in his entire life, and all three of those from hookers, and to have a sexy young
girl come into his store, drop to her knees and start sucking him off was beyond
his wildest sexual fantasy. He felt the sperm building in his balls.
On her end, Tiffany felt the head of Jim's cock start to swell. He was pushing in
harder and faster now, and his grip on her head tightened. Her knees hurt from
the concrete storeroom floor, and her humiliation knew no bounds. She wished the
earth would swallow her whole.
"Here it comes, slut!" shouted Jim, and suddenly the cock in her mouth erupted,
shooting stream after stream of thick white jism onto her tongue and straight
down her throat. She started to spit it out, but remembered somehow in the back
of her mind her orders were to swallow, so she started gulping.
It had been more than a week since Jim had masturbated, and he had a huge reserve
of salty semen for the kneeling cheerleader. She swallowed over and over, eight,
nine, ten times, and finally Jim's cock was quiet.
She arose from her kneeling position awkwardly, stood again on the high heels.
Jim pulled his pants back up.
"Could I interest you in another pair of shoes?" he asked with big grin.
"God no!" Tiffany blurted. Now that she had followed her orders, she wanted to
get out of the shoe store so badly she could scream. She walked quickly toward
the front of the store and Jim, reluctantly, let her out. As he watched her walk
away, he wondered if this was where those letters to the editors of Penthouse
came from. And here all along he thought they were made up!
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