SSY-10.TXT
STACY'S SENIOR YEAR
(PART TEN)
By Parker
an210088@anon.penet.fi
WARNING: This story contains any number of things you may
not want to read about: blackmail, humiliation,
semi-consensual sex, D&S and all that sort of bad stuff.
This story is NOT POLITICALLY CORRECT. If you do not enjoy
fantasizing about this kind of activity, STOP READING right
now, before it is too late. Really. You can't say you
weren't warned.
- This is Part Ten of a ten-part story; if you don't know
what that means, you may as well go ahead and read this part
first, 'cause the plot will be way too complicated for you
anyway .
Copyright 1993. Feel free to distribute this story as
you like, but please use some discretion. As well, I
would appreciate it if you would leave both the text
and the attribution unchanged. Thanks.
=================================================================
In due course, Stacy was elected Homecoming Queen.
It was no great surprise, either to her or to anyone else. The only
possible competition - Ashley Peters - had more or less dropped out of the race
in the last month. Ashley no longer moved in the kinds of social circles from
which Homecoming Queens were inevitably chosen. Stacy, for all of her sexual
activities at Greenwood over the previous nine months, still enjoyed at least
the appearance of respectability. While the word was out among most of the guys
at school (and more than a few of the girls) that Stacy was a cocksucking slut,
nothing could really be proved, particularly to those who mattered: the
teachers and parents. And, if Stacy dressed a little more daringly during the
course of her senior year and went out on lots of dates, well... there was
nothing really wrong with that as long as she kept her marks up in school (and
her grades in her final year were the highest of any student ever to attend
Greenwood).
So, a little wildness - a little rebelliousness - was to be expected and
tolerated. She was a teenager, after all.
Indeed, her now well-known willingness to fuck and suck just about any guy
in school actually helped her get elected, in an odd sort of way. There were
six male students on the Grad Committee, which selected each year's Homecoming
Queen. Stacy had fucked two of them during the course of the year, and - just
before the crucial election - had given each of the six a blowjob out in the
school parking lot.
Sharon's "suggestion." But Stacy didn't really mind too much at this
point. After some of the things that had happened to her over the course of the
school year, giving blowjobs in a parking lot was almost relaxing. She was more
or less used (or at least resigned) to the taste of cock in her mouth, and only
two of the guys actually made her swallow. She hated that. Against her will,
she found herself almost thankful that they only wanted to fuck her mouth.
Since the incident at the second football party, she had found herself once
again unable to get excited when having sex.
Just like in the beginning.
The fourth of the six guys she sucked off was the long-awaited number
sixty-five.
She hadn't even realized it at the time. It wasn't until she made her
regular report to Gary that he had pointed this out to her. Number sixty-five!
She was done; finished; no-longer-a-sex- toy. It was a dazed and confused Stacy
who had admitted Gary and Sharon to her house later that same afternoon. She
had been almost certain that they would not release her as they had promised,
but that seemed to be exactly what was happening. Right after school, the two
blackmailers brought over a small box of material - four videotapes and a large
number of still pictures - and handed them over without comment. Gary even gave
her advance copies of her final exams. She had almost forgotten about them, and
was certainly not prepared. She was so surprised, she found herself feeling
genuinely thankful.
That feeling, however, only lasted until they had gone and she had a
chance to go through the material. She quickly re-discovered that familiar
sense of loathing for her (former) tormentors.
Before the hour was up, she had burned the pictures and the videotape lay
in crumpled ribbons at her feet. No one was ever going to have that kind of
power over her again! She had also ripped off the charm bracelet, but in doing
so had involuntarily sent the shiny "F"s sailing loose across her bedroom. She
had located many of them, but they still turned up once in a while, in a pillow
or under a seat cushion.
No matter.
The remaining two weeks of school shot by. Exams were held the week of the
21st of June. With the aid of the stolen exam papers, the first four exams were
a breeze. During the fifth exam, however...
Stacy stared down at the exam paper, eyes widening with shock. This wasn't
the test she had prepared! Desperate, she re- read the questions, even flipping
the paper over the make certain that she hadn't missed something. Nothing. The
questions didn't even begin to resemble those that Gary had supplied her with.
Gary! This must be his idea of a joke. She felt tears of rage well up
inside her and spill over onto her face, but there was nothing she could do
about it now. Or ever, for that matter. She knew that she lacked the will to
confront Gary with this latest torment. Besides, what could she do about it?
She doubted that the school authorities would have much sympathy for her
plight.
Feeling sick to her stomach, she got down to work, answering the questions
as best she could. By the end of the exam, she felt that she had done pretty
well, despite her lack of preparation; the material wasn't that difficult, and
she had always considered herself smarter than most of the other students at
Greenwood anyway...
The final two exams went fine; the supplied exam papers matched exactly
the ones supplied to her by Gary. Stacy was almost willing to believe that the
incident had been an honest mistake on Gary's part. Almost.
Not that it mattered.
It had now been over a week since she had fucked anybody. A whole,
wonderful week of doing and saying whatever she wanted! She'd had to refuse
quite a number of "offers", but that was turning out to be almost enjoyable. It
gave her no small amount of satisfaction to let those jerks know exactly what
she thought about them. In fact, she was beginning to feel more and more like
her old self every day.
The same, however, could not be said of Ashley. She was a new person.
Physically, the change was obvious. Gone was the long, brown hair and girlish
clothing. Instead, she now sported a mannish crew cut, combed back and gelled
on top and had gotten both of her ears triple-pierced. She even wore a shiny,
silver stud in her nose. The clothing was different too. No more dresses and
frilly blouses; she now basically wore only black jeans and dark tee-shirts.
Just the same as Karen.
The changes were more than just physical. After the night of the football
party at BCN, Ashley had quickly drifted away from her old group of friends and
started spending all of her time with Karen. Eventually, they became
inseparable, and could often be seen holding hands and even - the rumour went -
kissing in the woods behind the school. Ashley soon joined her girlfriend in
social isolation, but she didn't seem to mind much. Neither did Karen.
On the Monday of the last week of school, Stacy had resolved herself to
attempt to talk to her old friend, but when she tried to locate her, she
quickly found out that Ashley and Karen had left school a week early (right
after exams) to go on a camping trip together. Ashley's puzzled mother had
confided to Stacy that Ashley had withdrawn her application for a position at a
major university back east and, over the strenuous objections of her father,
had instead decided to attend college at BCN next year. Her parents were both
mystified at this change of plans.
Stacy could have told her why, but kept her silence.
Karen had FAILED AND HAD one more year of highschool in
Bakersville...
*****
"Excuse me, Ms. Peabody?"
Stacy stood in front of the secretary's desk, clutching the pink slip
which had informed her of the principal's wish to see her "immediately". The
last week of classes was more of a formality than anything else - checking in
books and materials - so there had been no problem in leaving the class to
answer the principal's summons. His secretary, a tall, thin women with her gray
hair pulled back in a severe bun at the back of her head, took the slip and
stared at it.
"And you are Stacy Richards?"
The older woman stared suspiciously at the teenager, as if suspecting her
of being an imposter.
'Yeah,' Stacy thought to herself sarcastically, 'like I really want to be
here'.
"Yes," she answered politely. "Dr. Grossman wants to see me?"
'Probably something about being this year's Homecoming Queen,' she mused.
"So it would appear." The secretary picked up the phone, pushed a button
and spoke into it.
"A Stacy Richards here to see you, sir." There were a few moments of
silence and then she nodded briskly.
"Go right in; he's expecting you."
Stacy entered the principal's large office. It was set in the back of the
school building, giving it a good view of the playing fields and then the
forest stretching out behind Greenwood. The principal, Dr. Randall Grossman,
sat behind a large oak desk. He had short, jet black hair which had recently
begun the long retreat up his forehead. His large, dark eyes peered out from
behind his bifocals. Despite this seemingly mild appearance, the principal had
a strong physical presence about him. He had experienced little or no trouble
in intimidating the students (and staff, for that matter) into compliance with
his policies. As a result of his abilities, Greenwood regularly had one of the
highest academic records in the state.
The students, of course, hated and feared him, and Stacy was no exception.
Grossman did not hesitate to expel a student when he saw the need and had even,
on one memorable and well- publicized occasion, been instrumental in the
criminal conviction of a student who had been caught with a stolen exam paper.
Stacy, perhaps better than anyone, remembered this.
"Miss Richards." His voice was high; surprisingly effeminate. "Please...
have a seat."
Stacy sat as the school principal opened a white folder and removed a
sheet of paper from it. He glanced at the form and then looked up at her.
"Stacy," he began, "your marks this year have been the best we've ever
seen from a student at Greenwood. I've personally never come across such a
consistently brilliant student."
"Thank you," Stacy said, breathing a small sigh of relief. She hadn't been
expecting trouble, but you never knew.
"That's why I was so surprised at your History test," the principal
continued.
"What?"
"History 12," he explained, handing the piece of paper over to her. It was
the cover sheet of her exam paper in the History class; the one Gary had given
her the wrong paper for. It had a "49" marked on top of it in bright red pen.
Forty-nine!
Stacy felt like she was going to throw up. That was a failing grade. Her
hand trembled as she held the sheet. After everything that had happened to her
this year; and now...
"Summer school," Dr. Grossman said, as if reading her mind. "If you fail a
course, you have to make it up over the summer." He stared at her as she turned
pale. "You know that, don't you?"
White as a sheet, Stacy nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Summer school!!!
A tiny smile played across Dr. Grossman's mild face as he noted the girl's
reactions. They were perfect; and so was she. A real find. Ever since Mr.
Edgar's tearful confession the previous week, Grossman had been looking forward
to this moment. He had always fantasized about something like this - getting
control of one of the beautiful young sluts in his school and imposing his
"tastes" on one of them - but he had never dared try it before now. There was
too much at risk: his job, his career, his reputation; and there was always The
Club whenever he felt the need to indulge himself.
The Club! What wonderful things they could think of to do with this
teenage slut; what wonderful things they WOULD do to her... if his plan worked.
And it should. It should work. If Edgar's description of events was at all
accurate, there was every reason to believe that his plan would unfold exactly
as he hoped. First, however, he wanted to test the water. See how she
reacted...
Stacy thought quickly. She couldn't go to summer school. She just
couldn't! Taking a deep breath, the teenager regained control of herself and
looked over at the principal. He sat staring at her appraisingly. Maybe. It
worked with Edgar; why not with...
"Young lady," he said sternly, breaking the silence, "is there anything
you wish to say or... do to convince me to exercise my discretionary powers in
favour of giving you a passing grade."
He stared at her from behind his bifocals.
"I can do that, you know."
Stacy wasn't stupid. She knew what he was talking about.
"S-sir," she stammered, flushing red. "I'll do whatever I have to do to
pass; whatever you w-want." The blonde teenager fought down the bile which rose
in her lovely throat. She was supposed to be finished with this bullshit.
Dr. Grossman raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"
"Yes sir," she answered quietly.
They understood each other.
Moving suddenly, the school principal leaned forward in his chair and
punched a button on his intercom.
"Ms. Peabody," he ordered. "Hold all my calls and visitors for the next
two hours. And call Gardner to the office. He can wait out there." The
secretary acknowledged the orders.
Dr. Grossman sat back in his chair and stared over at the trembling
teenager. She looked so delicious, sitting there in her tight jeans and pink
top, her beautiful blonde hair done up in a long braid.
"OK Stacy," he said. "Here's the deal." He got to his feet and walked
slowly across the room towards her.
"Stand up against the desk."
She did as ordered. The large oak desk came up to just below her crotch.
"Now, bend over and grab these drawer handles."
Once again, Stacy did as ordered. She was now bent over the desktop,
stretched out with her hands just reaching the two drawer handles.
"Now," the principal continued, running his gaze appreciatively up and
down her body "if you can hold that position for the next two hours, you pass.
But if, for any reason, you let go of those handles... well, we'll be seeing
you at summer school. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," Stacy answered quietly. Her fingers curled tightly around the
small metal handles as she prepared herself for the worst. A tear trickled down
one cheek and fell onto the desktop. She had a pretty good idea of what would
soon be happening...
Harold Gardner was a big man. He was also a black man. He worked as a
janitor and general handyman at Greenwood High, a position he had held ever
since he had been personally hired by the school principal, Dr. Grossman. He
and Grossman went back a long ways. They had similar tastes in certain...
activities, and both enjoyed membership in an exclusive Club. When Gardner had
lost his job at City Hall because of his criminal record, Grossman had been
happy to take him in and provide him with employment. No blackmail or anything
like that; just one friend doing another friend a favour.
Gardner looked over at Ms. Peabody and smiled. The secretary looked over
and acknowledged his smile. She too was a personal appointee of Dr. Grossman
and, like Gardner, she was a member of the Club. Grossman had discussed his
plans for Stacy with her a couple of days earlier and, although she was
somewhat concerned about the risks, she had agreed to go along with it. If it
worked...
A rhythmic slapping sound came from the principal's office. It had been
going on for about twenty minutes now, and showed no sign of abating. Gardner
and Peabody looked at each other and smirked; they had a pretty good idea of
what was happening in there.
Five minutes later, the sound stopped. The door to the principal's office
opened and Grossman looked out. His face was flushed red, and damp with sweat.
"Ah, Mr. Gardner," he said. "I wonder if you could help me with a little
'matter' in here."
"Ah'm sure ah can," Gardner answered, getting to his feet.
"Is there anything I can do," Peabody asked hopefully.
Grossman shook his head.
"I'm afraid I need you out here," he answered. "You have to hold my calls
and keep people out of the office for the next little while. Later though..."
He smiled promised much as he closed the door.
Ms. Peabody shivered and reached one hand down to massage her pussy as she
imagined what was going on in the office.
Gardner didn't have to imagine any more.
The blonde slut (as he thought of her) was lying across the oak desk,
grasping onto a couple of drawer handles as if her life depended upon it. The
janitor was somewhat surprised to see that she was not tied down in any way,
but said nothing. Grossman knew what he was doing.
Her jeans and panties were down around her ankles, and her tight teenage
ass was beet red from the spanking the principal had been administering to her
for the last half hour or so.
"Harold," Grossman said, puffing slightly from his exertions. "Stacy here
was just saying how much she fancied sucking on a black cock while I spanked
her." He brought his hand down sharply on the teenager's quivering ass.
"Isn't that right Miss Richards?"
Stacy flinched and squirmed when he hit her, but her hands remained tight
around the door handles.
"Y-yes sir," she answered, gritting her teeth against the pain. "I'm
afraid I m-might make too much noise while... while being spanked..."
"And..."
Stacy groaned with humiliation.
"S-sir..." This was addressed to the janitor. "Would you put your cock in
my mouth please? If I have a c-cock to suck on... I won't make so much
n-noise."
The blonde teenager squirmed on the desk as Grossman fondled her beet red
ass.
"Well Harold," the principal asked. "Will you help her out?"
Gardner, his cock already straining against his overalls, quickly agreed.
In a flash, he was seated behind Grossman's desk, pulling out his large, black
cock and feeding it to the crying teenager as bent over in the desk in front of
him. She gagged, but soon accommodated it in her mouth.
"Suck it, bitch," he ordered, cuffing her on the side of the face.
Obediently, she began to bob her head up and down. Hands still firmly gripping
the drawer handles, she began to slurp hungrily at his cock. She was good.
"Feels good, you little cocksucker," he complimented her. "You've sucked
plenty of cock before."
Stacy groaned in humiliation as she slid her mouth up and down on his
cock, but didn't pull away.
She just kept sucking.
Even when Grossman continued the spanking, this time using a wooden
yardstick, whacking away at her ass until it was bruised red and blue. Even
when Gardner quickly came, spurting cum into her sucking mouth and down her
throat; she just sucked him dry and then kept on sucking as he became hard
again. Even when Grossman, panting and gasping from his sadistic exertions,
finally stopped whacking her flaming bottom with the yardstick and jammed his
near-bursting cock first into her dry cunt, and then into her tight asshole.
She just kept sucking and squirming until finally, both men let loose, flooding
her with cum from both ends.
Even then, she just kept sucking until finally Gardner pulled out of her
mouth.
Grossman, exhausted, leaned against the desk. His face had turned an
alarming shade of red, but there was a vicious smile on his face. "OK," he
said. "That's enough. You can let go now."
Stacy tried, but her hands were so tightly wrapped around the handles that
it took her several seconds to tear them loose. Groaning with pain and
humiliation, she brought one hand up and wiped ineffectually at the glistening
sperm which covered her lower face. The two men watched as she then bent over
and slowly pulled her panties and then jeans over her shining red ass, covering
the thin trail of sperm which trickled down her thigh.
Finally, she was dressed. She turned her tear-stained face towards the
principal.
"T-the test," she mumbled, dazed with pain.
Grossman reached over, grabbed a pen and wrote a large "Pass" on top of
it.
"Well done, Stacy," he congratulated her, still gasping. "I just wish all
of the students here at Greenwood were as dedicated as you are."
Stacy ignored the taunt. Moving carefully, she turned and limped out of
the office.
"Jesus," Gardner muttered. "Yer jus' gonna let her walk outta here like
that? What a loss. Everyone in the Club will wanna hear 'bout..."
"The Club will meet her soon enough," Grossman chuckled, reaching into a
desk drawer and pulling out a cassette tape. "We're not done with her yet..."
Friday, the second of July.
The last day of school at Greenwood High.
The school seemed quiet, already half-deserted as a good proportion of the
students were skipping the final hours in favour of starting their summer
holiday a day early. Really, the only reason to attend the last day was to pick
up the school yearbook and say goodbye to one's friends. The yearbook was
mailed out anyway, and, with more kids on the beach than in the school, there
was no real reason to say goodbye.
Stacy Richards walked slowly along the quiet hallway, rucksack full of gym
equipment in one hand and school yearbook in the other. Still in pain from the
severe spanking administered to her earlier in the week, she would have
preferred to have stayed at home, but her duties as a Rec Instructor had
required her presence at school to check through and store the class sports
equipment. Actually, she would have preferred to be on the beach with her
friends, but her ass was in no shape for a swimsuit. Maybe in a couple of
weeks, but not now.
She walked up to her locker and began to dial the combination on the lock
when she became aware of a giggling behind her. Turning, she saw three girls,
from a lower grade, looking at her and laughing. One of them was pointing to an
open yearbook.
"What's so funny?" she asked, angry. She wasn't used to being treated this
way by her social inferiors at school. Unintimidated, the girls just laughed
and continued down the hall.
Puzzled, she watched them go. What was going on? Stacy looked around.
Suddenly paranoid, she noticed that others were looking at her as well. Some of
them were just grinning at her while others flipped through their yearbooks,
laughing and whispering. The seemingly deserted school hallway now seemed full
of laughing, whispering students. What was happening?
Locker forgotten, Stacy placed her rucksack on the floor and opened the
yearbook. Everything seemed normal as she flipped quickly through the book;
just the typical high school yearbook...
The page flipped open to the sports section.
"Oh god..." Stacy sagged up against her locker, suddenly weak.
WOULD STACY RICHARDS PLEASE REPORT
TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE
(the PA system)
Stacy ignored it, staring at the picture which covered half a page. It was
under the heading "Swim Club", but rather than the entire team, it just
displayed Stacy. She was posed in a swimsuit; one of the too-small swimsuits
Sharon had forced her to wear during the second photo session. The suit had
been soaked, and her nipples clearly showed through the thin fabric of the suit
as she knelt, knees widely spread, licking a large, pink dildo and staring
seductively at the camera.
Gary!!
That bastard. She didn't know how he had managed it, but it was him
alright. Panicking, she began to turn the pages to the "R" section of the grade
twelves. If he had put that picture in the sports section, what had he...
It was her picture; and she recognized it. She was dressed in the tight,
pink rubber dress Sharon had produced for the first photo session, leaning
forward, hands pushing up her breasts and a look of passion - no, lust - on her
beautiful face. She looked like a complete slut.
Her stunned gaze slipped down to the text below the picture: 'Girl most
likely to... do just about anything.' Under that was a tiny "happy-face" with
the sentence 'I fucked Stacy Richards' beside it. Horrified, the panicking
teenager scanned the remaining pictures on the page. Under the photograph of
Terry Rhymer was three of the "happy-faces"; she had fucked him three times
during the year. The pages of the book flipped through her fingers, coming to
rest in the grade eight section; there were rows and rows of "happy-faces"
under Tim Myers' picture.
The yearbook slid out of her numb fingers and dropped to the floor as the
full realization of what had happened sunk into her. During the course of her
torment, she had been sustained by one goal: to keep what was happening secret
- to maintain her position at Greenwood. Now...
There must be a way. Most of the yearbooks hadn't been given out yet. If
she acted quickly, she could stop the mailout and maybe even get most if not
all of the books recalled.
WOULD STACY RICHARDS PLEASE REPORT
TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE!
(the PA system)
She didn't even hear it.
Moving as fast as she could, she raced through the combination on her
locker and jerked it open, determined to stow the rucksack and get to the
principal's office as soon as possible. As she did so, however, a small stack
of material - glossy magazines - slid out onto the hallway floor. Alarmed,
Stacy reached down and picked one up. It was a porn magazine, entitled CUMSHOT
and it had...
For the second time in as many minutes Stacy felt herself unable to breath
as panic swept through her body. She was on the cover of the magazine! The
full-colour photograph featured a sharp close-up of her face as she lapped
hungrily at a string of cum running from her mouth to a large cock. Neil's
cock, she realized, recognizing the scene.
"What's this?"
It was another student - Stephanie Bowers; Stacy had stolen her boyfriend
in grade ten. The girl bent over to pick up a magazine: YOUNG THINGS.
"Give me that," Stacy yelled, inadvertently attracting the attention of a
number of other nearby students. She grabbed the magazine out of the other
girl's hand and tossed it into her locker. Then she dropped to her knees and
gathered up the remaining publications - TEENAGE SLUTS, CUMHUNGRY - and
likewise put them away.
WOULD STACY RICHARDS PLEASE REPORT
TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE!
(the PA system)
She didn't even notice it.
Stacy slammed the locker shut and locked it. A small crowd of students had
gathered around to see what the fuss was, but the magazines were safely locked
away.
"Fuck off," she cried at them, tears running down her face. They watched
silently as she ran off in the direction of the main office. She had to get
those yearbooks recalled!
Stephanie watched her go, puzzled. Usually Stacy was so cool; so superior.
What had happened to her? She gazed speculatively at Stacy's locker. It looked
like she'd never...
Wait a moment.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small slip of paper with
three numbers on it. She had found it stuffed into her locker that morning. The
numbers looked like combination numbers. Could it be? As she moved forward to
try it out, she noticed two or three of the other students in the crowd were
also pulling out small pieces of paper and looking at them. With mounting
excitement, Stephanie began to enter the numbers...
Stacy barged through the door and charged into the school head office. No
one was there. Frantic, she ran behind the counter and into the administrative
section of the school. There must be someone...
"There you are!"
It was Ms. Peabody. She walked angrily towards the panicked teenager.
"We've been calling you to the office for ten minutes now. Are you deaf?"
"Ms. Peabody," Stacy began, ignoring the secretary's tirade, "you've got
to recall the yearbooks. Someone has..."
She was cut off as Ms. Peabody grabbed her by the ear and began dragging
her down the hall towards the principal's office.
"Oww..." Stacy stumbled along behind her, trying to pull away but the pain
was too much. Finally, they arrived at the office. The secretary knocked on the
door and then pushed it open without waiting for an acknowledgment. She used
her grip on Stacy's reddened ear to propel the reluctant teenager into the
office and then entered behind her, closing the door.
Rubbing her ear, Stacy looked around. Dr. Grossman sat behind the desk, a
serious look on his face.
"Stacy," he said, "sit down."
"Sir," Stacy began breathlessly, "The yearbook... you have to..."
"SIT DOWN!"
Startled, Stacy fell silent and dropped into the seat directly opposite
the desk.
"This is a very serious matter," the principal explained grimly. "I've
just had some important evidence brought to my attention regarding your
academic performance this year."
"S-sir?"
Stacy flinched as she felt a hand at her shoulder. It was Ms. Peabody,
standing behind the chair.
"I found this cassette tape in my mailbox," Grossman continued, pulling a
small tape deck out of his desk. "Listen."
He punched the play button. Stacy listened. Almost at once, she heard the
sound of her own voice:
<"I heard you have a copy of next week's English exam. Is that true?"
"Why do you want to know?">
Stacy felt an absurd sense of deja vu as she listened in panicked
disbelief.
<"I want a copy of that exam. I need it for this weekend."
"Stacy, you mean you want a copy of a stolen exam paper so you can cheat
on next Monday's English test."
"Yes. I need it to pass the exam... I'll pay money. How about $100?
Please?"
"Alright, I'll sell you the stolen exam paper for $100. Will that be all,
Stacy, or do you want any more exams? I can probably get whatever you want."
"That sounds great. I'll buy whatever you can get for the classes I'm in.
$100 a paper."
"It's a deal. Meet me tomorrow after school in the woodworking shop. It
should be deserted on Friday afternoon... Don't forget the money.">
The hissing stopped for a second as the tape fell silent. Stacy struggled
to get to her feet, but the secretary held her down, her hand firmly pressing
down on the teenager's shoulder.
"There's more," she whispered menacingly.
Stacy knew that. She knew exactly what was coming. Trembling, she listened
as the voices began once again:
<"Well," her voice again, "Do you have it?"
"I've got it. One stolen English exam paper for Stacy Richards. And my
money?">
There was a brief moment of silence, and they the sound of paper being
crinkled.
<"It's all there; you don't have to worry about that... now or in the
future."
"Fine, It's all yours."
"Thanks.">
The voices fell silent, and she heard a door slam: the shop door slamming
when she left the room. The hiss slowly faded as the recording came to halt.
Stacy went limp, yearbook forgotten; magazines forgotten... Nothing
mattered anymore. How could that one incident of cheating on the math test have
brought her to this? She brought her hands up to cover her face.
The school principal hit the "stop" button. He looked over at her,
struggling to hold back a smile.
"I think you know what this means young lady," he told her.
She knew. Oh... she knew.
Ms. Peabody, still keeping her hand firmly on the blonde teenager's
shoulder, bent down put her lips to Stacy's ear.
"Summerschool," she whispered. Her tongue flicked out and licked at
Stacy's ear.
"I'm sure," Dr. Grossman continued, watching with glee as his secretary
slid her hands down and began mauling the breasts of the unresisting teenager,
"that this summer will be a learning experience for all of us..."
THE END???
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