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Review This Story || Author: Goddess Agony

Sancia and Claire

Part 2

I can always be reached with comments, praise, or general conversation at goddess_agony@yahoo.com


Chapter 2


It was laughable to even try to focus in school the next day. Sancia did her absolute best to keep her head down, away from the teachers attention, and mumbled out any answer she was unlucky enough to be called on for. Through English, Science and History she sat staring at the clock, watching as it ticked excruciatingly around every revolution, dashing out of the room at every bell.


She sat alone at lunch. Nancy, her only friend, was still out sick with the flu. As she shoveled the foul mashed potatoes into her mouth she stared down where, half hidden by her lunch tray she kept her phone open. She stared at those images, and tried to silence the mixture of fear and a strange excitement. No-one bothered her. No-one cared where she sat. Shrill laughter broke out one table over, and she ignored it. Whatever normal loneliness set in at this time was drowning beneath her new anxiety.


Math class was the worst. The tests came back, handed out down the rows, from student to student, and she heard a snicker as hers was passed backÉshe groaned softly at the 43% and crumpled it up. The stupid blonde bitch three seats back wasnÕt gloating, but everyone in the room knew she had a perfect score again, and her silent smugness was insufferable.


She tried desperately to pay attention, deeply aware of how much catching up she had to do to scrape by a passing grade this semester, but even on the best of days the sprawling figures on the whiteboard made almost no sense, and today she barely picked up on a word out of the teacherÕs mouth. Her foot was tapping restlessly against the floor for almost five minutes before she realized and forced it flat, chest heaving with every heavy breath. She found herself counting along with the second hand as it inched down the last minute of class, and as the bell split the air she took off out the door, fighting down the urge to run, as the halls began to swarm with eager teenagers trying to fight their way outside.


She had to push against the flow, struggling to make her way towards the far end of the complex, where the auditorium was poorly grafted onto the building, along with the theater rooms and the music rehearsal halls. She found herself suddenly free of the crowd in a hallway sheÕd barely set foot in, the big grey double doors at the end cracked open to the late spring day outside. Heart thudding again she stepped forward slowly, down the seemingly endless row of lockers, and forced herself to push the doors open.


There was no-one there The asphalt periphery that ran around the school was deserted. The baseball field stood a few hundred yards off. Down the wall a ways the theater storage shed jutted out from the building. She was alone. She let out a breath she didnÕt even realize she was holding, dropping her hands from her backpack. A giggle slipped out through her lips, and then she was giggling uncontrollably. There was no-one there. A note of panic slipped into her laughter as she wondered what they really wanted then, but she turned around and stepped back towards the open doors.


And froze. There she was. Striding down the corridor towards her. The blonde bitch. The stupid genius kid blond Òskipped two gradesÓ know it all blonde bitch. Claire. For the briefest of seconds Sancia held out a fragment of hope that it was a coincidence, but no, as she approached the expression on her scrawny thirteen year old face told the older teen everything she needed to know. She felt like the breath had been knocked out of her.


A bubble of rage rose inside her as she approached. ÒGive it back give it back you fucking bitchÓ Sancia found herself yelling, without any care for who heard her, feeling her hands clench into fists, as the other girl stepped out into the sun, tanned legs framed by her perfect black skirt, with a perfect white blouse above it and her insufferably perfect curls framing her face. Claire just giggled and pulled the black book from out of her waist bag as she stepped out the doors into the sun.


ÒYou want this?Ó her high voice taunted as she dangled it from her fingertips. Sancia lunged for it and the younger girl darted backwards, before swinging it up and heaving it over her head onto the pavement. Sancia gasped and dove for it, falling onto her knees, while the blonde bitch laughed at her desperation. She couldnÕt bring herself to care, she just pawed through it to make sure it was the right oneÉyes, there they were, there they all were, everything intact. She rose unsteadily to her feet, the book pulled close to her belly, fingers wrapped tight around the edges. ÒWasÉthat all you wanted? To laugh?Ó. There was bitterness in her voice, her worst fears and her unspoken hopes seemingly dashed in an instant.


ÒNopeÓ the scrawny blonde said perkily, ÒI want a lot more then thatÓ. Sancia stared at her uncomprehendingly, until the girl sighed and with a hand on her hip said ÒI have pictures of every page. On my phone and on my computer. And I can send them to every other student. And every teacher. And your parents. At any time.Ó


Sancia felt her face begin to flush as she realized the hole she was suddenly in. She could make her do whatever she wanted alright. But it wasnÕt Darryl, or Jake, or anyone else sheÕd allowed herself the slightest hope for. It was Claire fucking Marcus, insufferable thirteen year old prodigy, and one of the most admired and despised girls at the entire school. ÒWhat do you want?Ó she asked in a low voice. ÒYou want my money? You want me to do your homework?Ó. She stared at the asphalt.


There was an energy in ClaireÕs voice when she answered, an edge to the girl with perfect composure. If Sancia didnÕt know better she would have thought the girl was nervous. ÒShow me your titsÓ. SanciaÕs face snapped up. She stuttered, stepping back once, thrown off guard. ÒW-what?Ó. There was something in the younger girlÕs eyes as she repeated more firmly ÒShow me your titsÓ. SanciaÕs eyes were wide. She never expected this from the girl. Slowly she reached down and rolled her t-shirt up, to reveal her featureless grey bra, supporting her fat breasts. Claire reached forward and grabbed the edge of her bra, yanking it down and causing Sancia to grunt in pain as the other girl wrenched it aside until her nipple was exposed. The blonde grinned. She grabbed it between two fingers and twisted it around roughly and older teen felt her knees shake, letting out a guttural gasp as her electrified nerves sent spasms up her spine.


There was an excitement, barely suppressed, in ClaireÕs voice as she said Òno I meanÉtake off your bra. And your shirtÓ. Sancia gaped at her, and then looked around franticallyÉthe back of the school was deserted, but if anyone came along sheÕd be completely exposed. ÒRight here?Ó she hissed. Claire nodded, a firmness in her voice. ÒRight here. Do it. Or I share with everyoneÓ.


Sancia felt herself gulp. Sliding her backback down onto the ground first, she wriggled her shirt over her head and let it fall to the ground, and then reached back and unbuckled her bra, letting it fall forward as well, shrugging it off her shoulders. She shivered slightly as a warm breeze gusted around the building. ClaireÕs expression was inscrutable. Almost greedy. But cautious. She gently lifted one of SanciaÕs breasts with one hand, and the girl felt herself go weak at the knees again. Then suddenly Claire grabbed her nipple roughly, pinching sharply between her fingers, and began to stride off along the side of the building. Sancia choked down a shriek as she stumbled along, pain lancing up from her poor nipple as she called out Òw-wait stop!Ó, dragged along by her fat tit.


Claire released her in front of the theater storage shed. One and a half stories tall, bolted onto the side of the building and built from slabs of corrugated metal. The scrawny girl heaved on the sliding door until it creaked open just wide enough to squeeze inside, and she slipped in through the dark gap. Sancia stared, glancing at the door, then back at her discarded shirt and bra a hundred feet away. With another gulp she slipped through the door as well, and immediately gasped at the heat. The small, dark space was like a cramped oven, lit only by sunlight slipping through the cracks in the walls, and stacked high with old lumber and plywood, the ground thick with sawdust and grime, a set of shelves stuffed with old and run town tools.


Claire was sitting about four feet off the ground on the edge of a huge plywood stack, staring down at the dark haired girl with what looked like a grin on her face in the dim light, kicking her legs back and forth playfully. Sancia could already feel a trickle of sweat on her forehead as she stared up at the girl, anger and curiosity and fear in equal measure swirling inside her. ÒWhat do you actually want?Ó Her voice came out weaker and more fearful than she wanted. In response Claire poked the tip of her shoe into SanciaÕs left breast and giggled softly Òtake off your pants. Your shoes. Everything.Ó Sancia stepped back quickly, hands flying up to protect herself ÒNo! I wonÕt! You canÕt make me!Ó Even as she said it, the voice in her head said ÒÉshe can make you. You know she can.Ó


Claire slipped her phone out of her bag, holding it high over SanciaÕs head, and began to tap at the screen ÒTahiyaÕs going to love this then. You think she calls you a slut now, just wait till she sees how much of a slut you really areÓ.

Sancia whimpered and cried out ÒStop! Alright! AlrightÉ.Ó Slowly she reached down and began to slide her jeans down her thighs, the denim sticking to her sweating flesh. She peeled them off and then kicked off her shoes and socks, and finally with a shuddering breath she slid her white panties down as well. With a horrible sinking feeling she finally allowed herself to realize how sticky her pussy was, and she desperately hoped Claire would mistake it for sweat. When her clothes were in a heap on the floor she softly asked Ònow what?Ó


Claire leered down at her as she stripped herself naked, exposing herself completely. ÒNow?Ó she said simply, Ònow you beg. Beg me to keep it a secretÓ. SanciaÕs breath caught slightly but then she began to implore ÒpleaseÉplease Claire please donÕt tell anyo-Ò

ÒNo!Ó Claire cut her off, rolling her eyes, Òbeg properly. Down on the floor.Ó Shakily Sancia sunk down to her knees, and then onto her hands, tits swinging as she looked up at her blonde tormenter. She opened her mouth again but before she even got a word out Claire hopped down and planted her tennis shoe in the small of her back, forcing her down. Sancia groaned as her face was forced down to the floor, her breasts mashing beneath her against the dusty concrete, sawdust fluttering around her nose as she inhaled.


ÒNow, try againÓ Claire said slowly, and in a much weaker voice Sancia began again Òplease Claire please IÕll do anything at all but you canÕt tell anyone it has to be a secret no-one can find out my parents canÕt find out pleeeeeaseÓ she mewled pathetically. Claire struggled to keep her own composure under control as her groveling classmate begged under her feet, her own nipples aching beneath her blouse, her budding breasts too small to require a bra yet. The scope of possibility unfolded in front of herÉthis pathetic slut, completely sick in the head and utterly obedient to her. She twisted and ground her foot into the girlÕs back while she thought, earning another whimper, her ass wriggling in the air.


ÒYou are a stupid depraved fucked up slut, arenÕt you?Ó Claire said slowly, and the words hit Sancia like a brick. She physically spasmed on the floor as insults sheÕd tried to brush off from bullies for years hit home from a girl who saw her like this. Claire ground her foot down again ÒSay it, say it out loudÓ. Sancia choked and then forced herself to repeat, her voice trembling ÒIÉIÕm a stupid fucked up slutÓ. A sob wracked her body, oh god it was so real, so horribly real. All those nights sheÕd dreamed about a man who would fuck her silly and call her a slut and none of it felt like this, none of it felt so awful like this, trapped in this filthy shed, naked and sweaty and scared. Her pussy clenched, a trickle of juice dripping down her thigh.


Claire smiled down at her, pulling her foot back. Suddenly her head jerked up, and an expression of fear flitted across her face also. Outside the faint sound of footsteps was audible, unmistakably drawing closer to the tool shed. ÒQuick, quickÓ she hissed, grabbing SanciaÕs clothes and tossing them behind  the plywood stack Òget back there, hide!Ó Sancia scrambled after her gesture in a panic, forcing herself around the corner and ducking down, fighting back a series of whimpers as she scraped her flesh across the rough edges of the boards. There was barely enough room between the stack and the wall, her tits flattened against her chest, forced to awkwardly slide and crouch with one leg folded, the other outstretched. She didnÕt dare to poke her head out over the edge as the door creaked further open, and the footsteps stopped inside.


ÒClaire? What the hell are you doing?Ó It was a boyÕs voice. Probably upperclassman. Claire just murmured awkwardly ÒjustÉhanging outÓ.  There was an awkward silence. ÒohÉkayÓ he said suspiciously, and then the sound of lumber being yanked around, and a few thumps. Sancia could feel her thighs starting to ache, but she couldnÕt rest on the floor without doing the splits. She softly spit out a piece of fluff that floated onto her lips. Boards dragged along the ground.  What sounded like a of nails being dropped back onto a shelf. And then, mercifully, footsteps retreating again and Claire dragging the door back closed. ÒGet back out hereÓ she whispered.


Sancia squeezed back out from around the corner and Claire stifled a laugh. Her hair was a mess, streaked with spiderwebs and sawdust. Her sweaty naked body had attracted a mixture of filth and dirt, and there looked like an oil stain on one of her breasts from where they had mashed to the floor. Sancia glanced down at herself and cringed, pulling her arms around herself and closing her eyes, rocking back and forth slightly ÒpleaseÉplease stop. Please can I just go home?Ó


Her eyes flew wide seconds later at the sudden pressure on her pussy and she stared up into ClaireÕs face above her, sweat soaked as well but still under control. The flat of ClaireÕs shoe was pressed against her dripping slit, and as she glared down at the miserable slut she began to rock it back and forth slightly. Sancia groaned loudly, involuntarily, and found herself rocking her hips forward. Claire found herself smiling as she continued to grind her shoe against the needy girlÕs pussy, until suddenly she yanked it away, stepping back. ÒGet dressedÓ she snapped, and Sancia found herself crying out in frustration as her pussy twitched and squeezed, desperate for attention.


Claire pulled her phone out again as Sancia struggled into her filthy dusty pants, not even bothering to pull her panties or her socks on, just wadding them in one hand. Her eyes darted to the corners of the room ÒClaireÉcan you pleaseÉgo get my shirt, and my bag outside?Ó. The blonde glanced up from her phone Òoh no, I need to take off, IÕm about to miss my next busÓ. She flashed a white smile, and then shoved the phone back in her bag and squeezed her way back out through the door and just like that she was gone, leaving Sancia alone and half naked. The suddenness of her departure left Sansia mildly stunned, such intensity suddenly turned off like flipping a switch. She poked her head out the door and saw Claire already a few hundred feet away. With a gulp, she slid herself through as well, and then dashed for her remaining clothes, lying abandoned in the middle of the hot asphalt, gulping down the cool air as she skidded to a halt and yanked her shirt down over her head.


She sat back against the brick wall of the school and buried her head in her arms. Her entire body was shaking violently. Everything about the last half hour felt completely unreal. Between her thighs her pussy still throbbed, and all she could think about was ClaireÕs shoe pressing down, how good it felt to have it there, andÉwhat it felt like to admit she was a fucked up slut. She sobbed.




Review This Story || Author: Goddess Agony
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