Tag Ciara: the Happy Slut

by Geek of Ages

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, Mult, Teenagers, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, School, Interracial, Black Male, Black Female, White Female, Oriental Male, Oriental Female, Hispanic Male, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Ciara is a fourteen-year-old freshman who really wants to win the game of Tag, which means fucking as many of her peers as possible without birth control. Will she win? Will she get knocked up? Place your bets! Heavily inspired and informed by Rachael Ross's "Tag" series.

Of course I came! How could I not, with a nice, hard cock pounding me from below, my hands steadying myself on the toilet stalls. I was sitting on his lap—I think his name was Charles—my legs spread wide, my back to him. Displaying for all the world to see him balls-deep in me, my puffy and used pussy lips eagerly wrapped around his potent shaft.

Or at least, good enough for my senior buddy to see and take a photo. “Remember, it only counts if you spunk her.” She was standing in the doorway to the stall, snapping pictures, the door wide open, while several other girls at the school watched, snickering among themselves.

“Fuck, she’s cumming on my cock,” he growled, continuing to pound me mercilessly. “Ah! Fuck!” His hands on my hips pulled me down, his own thighs thrusted up hard, burying his cock deep in my fertile cunt. “Tag, you’re bred!” he managed to get out before I felt the throbbing and tickle inside me that told me he was adding his millions of swimmers to the three loads that were blasted into me earlier in the day.

“Awesome!” Jenny, my senior buddy said with a smile, and her phone clicked as she took photos of his balls contracting, shooting their baby-making liquid into me. She was also probably recording a video. That’s a feature they added when Jenny was a freshman: videos.

I panted as I came down from my orgasm—I was sure they heard me in the hall outside—and relaxed.

“Fuck,” Jenny grumbled, looking at the time on her phone. “C’mon, the bell’s about to ring.”

As if on cue, the bell for the next class rang.

“Fucking worth it,” the guy said, pulling his cock from my pussy. I expected some of the sperm to leak out of my pussy after, but nope, it was pushed too far in. I thought I could feel it in me, though.

I hurriedly hopped off of him and pulled my skirt and panties up. I stupidly had worn a pair of black panties, and now the insides were all cum-stained. I’d been leaking cum out ever since one of the seniors filled me in one of the stairwell nooks.

“I hope you get knocked up, slut,” the guy said after pulled up his pants, and then he left. By then, all the other girls, including Jenny, had already disappeared to their class.

I rushed to my next class, which of course was on the other side of the school. I pulled out my phone, my bag slung over a shoulder, to check on my standings. I quickly tapped out my password in the Tag app, and pulled up the current status.

I was at the top of the timeline, and it was, in fact, a video that Jenny had shot of his balls contracting as he pumped me full. I felt wetter watching the video, even as I thought I felt his cum sloshing around inside me.

The video had already gotten ten likes, and a caption: “Ciara takes another huge load of baby batter!”

With my thumb I flicked through the timeline. “Fuck,” I muttered. Right after my post in the timeline was that little bitch Betsy. She’d just had her “study hall” and took the opportunity to get three more loads blasted into her womb, putting her above me in the rankings.

I was at eighteen: three the first day, six the second, five the third, and four so far today; and she was at twenty. Lizzie was still ahead with twenty-one, and then chasing at my heels was Aiko with sixteen, then under her was Tiffany with fifteen.

Still anyone’s game, and I wanted that pot.

Mrs. Reynolds clicked her tongue as I attempted to slip into her English class. “You’re late, Miss Ciara.” She always pronounced it wrong, like Sierra; but it’s supposed to be see-ARE-a. Better than being pronounced Kira, though I’m told that’s what it’s supposed to be in the original Irish or something.

“Sorry,” I said, a blush rising to my face. There’s no way she didn’t know where I had been—all the teachers have to be in on The Game, right? And I was sure I reeked of sex.

“Take your seat, we were just discussing The Scarlet Letter.” She turned back to the blackboard and continued writing the word “Adultery” on the board.

Sheepishly, I walked back to my seat, which of course was in the far back of the room because I was a dummy when I picked it out. Several of the guys in the class leered at me, and I wondered how long it would be until they tagged me; one guy in the second row already had—yesterday, in the library—and he looked at me with a self-satisfied smile.

There were a few whispers from the girls, and I was pretty sure I heard one of them say “slut”; the girls themselves mostly looked at me with faces of derision, thinking a slut like me was below any of them.

But the truth I knew was that I was a slut, and I enjoyed it, and that was far better than their little stuck-up little asses were.

As soon as I sat in my seat, it almost felt like the floodgates were opened and cum started leaking out, getting on my black panties. I’d almost started using a pad to catch all the cum, but Jenny had told me that sluts don’t use pads, so I didn’t.

I squirmed a little in my seat, feeling uncomfortable from all the wetness in my nethers, but I tried to focus on what Mrs. Reynolds was saying. It was a little difficult—my brain was filled with thinking about The Game, and all of the cum that had already been pumped into me.

Unfortunately, English was also my last class for the day, and with only four fucks, I was definitely not on pace to win. I had to get tagged again before I left.

Turned out that Jenny had come to the same conclusion, and she was waiting for me as I was the last to leave Mrs. Reynold’s classroom. “Come on,” she said, exasperated. “I’ve got two boys waiting in Mr. Garrett’s classroom.” She grabbed my wrist with her hand and started pulling me. “And I think Aiko just skipped her last class, so who knows how many points she’s gonna get.”

“Wait, isn’t Mr. Garrett in his room or something?” I asked, hurrying after her.

“He always leaves his room unlocked while The Game’s going on, for us to use. Probably has a camera set up in there to watch or some shit.” We had reached the room, and despite any trepidation I might have had, she opened the door and practically pushed me in. “Let’s do this.” She stepped in and locked the door behind us, and dropped the shade—this was all supposed to be hush-hush, after all.

I think the two boys were both juniors, but it’s pretty hard to tell sometimes. One was a white guy with sandy brown hair and a cute jawline; the other was one of the like, twenty Asian guys we had in the school. Cool, I was finally going to get fucked by an Asian guy. I always wondered if the rumors about their cocks being small were true.

“Alright, who’s first?” Jenny demanded.

“Me,” said the white guy, stepping forward.

“Bend over a desk,” Jenny commanded me, pushing me towards one. I stumbled into it, then bent over, spreading my legs. I pushed down my sperm-soaked panties, revealing my wet slit. “Alright Jake, breed the little slut.”

“Gladly.” I felt his hands on my waist, bunching up my skirt, and then his cock head at my puffy pussy lips.

There was Jenny, snapping pictures of my face on her phone while I felt him push into me. I was so wet and spermed up already that he went balls-deep in one stroke. “Oof!” I said. “You’re fucking huge!” I was pretty sure he slammed into my cervix. My little fourteen-year-old cervix that was more than ready to drink up all of his potent seed.

“And I’ve been saving up my cum load for a week just for your slutty womb,” he laughed, grinding himself into me. Then an emptiness as his cock started coming out of me—and then a deep thrust, pushing me down onto the desk.

“Good, good,” Jenny cooed, watching her phone screen. “Now fuck her good!”

I figured he didn’t need any more urging, because his hands continued their death grip on my hips as he began pounding into me. I mewed and moaned with every thrust, my knuckles white as they gripped the desk, my cunt throbbing in pleasure. I could swear I felt his balls slapping my clit each time he thrust deep, bottoming out in me. My cervix was probably going to feel so bruised, but at the time, it felt so good.

Jenny’s phone kept making clicking noises as she took pictures. I think she even got one between my legs of his ball sack hanging there, ready to unload in me.

“Oh yeah, fuck me!” I cried. “Fuck me! Aaaaaah!” And with that, I came.

“Yeah! Tag! You’re bred!” he cried, slamming into me one last time. Slamming his cock against my cervix. In my pussy, I could feel each spurt rippling up his cock before that tickle inside as he dumped what was probably gallon right up against my womb. My cumming womb that was sucking up all of the seed it could to try to get me pregnant.

There were a few more pictures, even as he pulled out of me, making me feel so empty.

I needed another cock.

“Turn over,” Jenny commanded, and I did, putting my ass on the desk, spreading my legs, a trickle of cum showing. She snapped a picture, then looked at the Asian guy. “Alright, let’s show this slut another good time. We’re gonna do reverse cowgirl—sit on that chair.” She pointed at one of the deskless chairs along the edge of the room, at one of the tables against the wall.

He laughed, pushing his pants and boxers down and sitting on the chair. “My favorite position.”

Holy shit, his cock was huge. Probably the largest cock I’d ever seen. Well, maybe not quite. But it was big. Easily like, a foot long.

So much for the stereotype of the Asian small penis.

“Jesus, will that even fit in me?” I asked, even as I shuffled over to him. I pushed down my skirt so it wouldn’t block any pictures.

“It fucking better. You know the rules: it only counts if they spunk in you,” Jenny said.

“I need to be spunked again bad,” I said. I look right at Jenny’s phone. “God, I’m such a slut, aren’t I?”

“That’s the point of The Game,” she laughs. “Now fuck that Asian cock!”

I grabbed his massive, throbbing member, and aimed it right at my fuck-hole. His hands grabbed my hips, and I slid down—and his dick slid right up into me. A bunch of wet stuff squelched out, some combination of the copious amounts of sperm I’d been a receptacle for, and my own overflowing juices.

This time, I definitely felt him against my cervix. It was an almost painful sort of pressure. And then we were fucking: him thrusting from below, me bouncing above.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” I moaned each time his cock head battered against my cervix. “Jesus fuck you’re splitting me open!”

“That means he’s in deep, and he’s more likely to knock you up!” Jenny cackled. “Hey Dan, how long has it been since you’ve cum?”

“Ugh ... ugh ... ugh...” he exerts as he fucks up into me. “Two weeks...”

“I bet you’ve got a lot of cum stored up, then. You probably dumped a gallon into me when you tagged me when I was a freshman ... and that was on three days.”

Holy shit, I was getting fucked by a senior, not a junior. Not that I really cared, because cock is cock.

“You were in The Game as a freshman?” I asked, trying to think through the haze of my impending orgasm. My hand was on my clit, rubbing furiously.

“Oh yeah, but I didn’t win or anything. Got knocked up by a white guy with blond hair.”

“Where’s the ... uhn! ... baby?” Almost there!

“Gave her up for adoption. But that’s why you gotta be the biggest slut, and get that pot: because I wanna make up for my freshman year.” She smirks at the guy fucking me. “Sorry, Dan, but you didn’t knock me up that time ... but maybe you’ll be more successful this time. Add a little bit of Asian into her bloodline.”

This orgasm hit me like a fucking freight train, and I think I almost blacked out from it. I was screaming like a bitch in heat—which I guess I was—my cunt walls throbbing with pleasure. I must have thrashed on his cock there for two or three minutes. He just kept fucking me with that magnificently huge cock, pressing its dangerous slit right at my cervix.

“Jesus, man, how’d you get through that without blowing?” the white guy said.

“Practice, dude. But don’t worry, I’m gonna breed this slut soon.” He grunted with the effort as I kept bouncing on his cock. Jenny took even more pictures, and probably another video.

I wanted to come up with something to egg him on, begging him to cum in me, but I was so sex-addled I couldn’t think of anything.

“Get ready, Ciara. He’s about to blow!” Jenny teased.

Another orgasm started to ripple through my body as he pulled me down hard, his cock swelling as it pushed against my cervix. I felt each spurt as my cunt walls milked his cock, and through the haze of orgasm I thought I was counting them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

Twelve massive spurts of cum right against my thirsty cervix. He probably dumped that cum right into my womb. It felt like it was filling me up like a water balloon.

“Yeah! Awesome!” Jenny beamed, tapping on her phone to upload the proof. “Looks like Lizzie bagged another one, but nothing from Betsy. I think you’re tied with her now.”

“Great,” I said, rocking on the Asian guy’s semi-hard cock for a moment, then I got off.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you get ahead tomorrow.”

The two guys laughed as I got my skirt back on and put on my panties. I could feel the gallon of cum in me sloshing around, and some of it leaking out. “Thanks for the fuck,” the white guy said.

“Oh yeah. Thanks for being a cum dump,” the Asian guy said. “I really needed to blow.”

“I’ll say,” Jenny said, also laughing. “She’s gonna be leaking you for days!” She turned to me. “Let’s go.”

I was a little sad; I’d hoped to maybe get one more point before leaving, but my cunt did hurt a little bit. That guy’s cock had really stretched me out.

I probably was walking a little funny from it as I made my way home. It would normally only take me like, twenty minutes to walk home, and the day was nice enough that I could. As I walked, I could feel more cum leaking out of me.

If I’d have been asked a week or two earlier if I’d thought I’d like the feeling of cum leaking out of me, I probably would have said “of course not”, though I’d have been curious.

Now I knew, I and I loved it. “I’m such a slut,” I said to myself, getting out my phone.

Jenny had already posted those two fucks, giving me the two points to get to twenty, tied with Betsy. Lizzie was now at twenty-two. I checked the posts. Just a photo for the fuck with the white guy, captioned “Check out this bitch in heat!” with eight likes. And then a video of me cumming as the Asian guy also came in my pussy; you could totally see his balls contracting and the last sliver of his cock pulsing each time he blasted another spurt in me. The caption read “This mulatto slut is trying to add some Asian to her bloodline!”; fifteen likes. That was fast for so many likes—but we were also out of school, so everyone who knew about The Game was probably checking the app.

I checked my other competitors. Tiffany had gotten to sixteen, with a picture that looked like her on her back on a mattress in the drama club prop room, an anonymous brown-haired guy pounding her. And fucking Aiko was now at nineteen. Each of the pictures posted had that little Japanese slut smiling at the camera and making that peace-sign with her fingers all the Asian girls do in photos.

In the third one, she was impaled reverse cowgirl on a dark, chocolate cock—I think the same one that had gotten to me on Tuesday—with her eyes rolled back in her head and her tongue sticking out, still with that fucking peace sign. The caption read, “Time for a Blackanese baby!”; twenty-nine likes.

It was probably Allie’s best caption—Allie was Aiko’s senior partner in The Game—and I have to admit, it made me a little more wet to read it.

I mean, I was half-black, so if I had an Asian guy knock me up, it’d be half-Blackanese, right? At least, I figured I was half-black. My mom’s a super pale redhead, and I’ve got skin the color of a nice, milky caramel. My hair is the thick, kinky black hair people associate with black people—especially because I wear it natural—but it has red undertones to it I probably got from my mom. I didn’t inherit the black bubble-butt, though, and instead had my mom’s flat ass; but I didn’t get her large tits, instead entering high school with a solid B-cup. I figured if I got knocked up, they’d go up a cup, maybe two.

I made sure to put my phone back in my bag by the time I got home—and it was a good thing, too, because my mom was already home, cooking dinner.

“Hey mom,” I called from the living room, acutely aware of smelling like sweat and cum.

“Hey Ciara,” she called back. “What took you so long?”

“You know, stuff,” I replied. “I gotta pee, though.”

It was true: I did have to pee. I dropped my bag in my room, and headed to the bathroom. As I sat on the toilet, I could really feel that cum dripping out of me. Before I even started to pee, I heard a plop as one glob fell into the toilet.

And for all the cum that was leaking out of me, there was probably just as much that had made its way into my womb. I wondered if any of the swimmers had made their way up to find an egg yet—but my period-tracking app said I was probably going to ovulate on Monday, so that’s when I’d be really good and knocked up. Especially if I got tagged on that day—and since Jenny encouraged me to post a video of me doing one of those take-home ovulation tests, I was pretty sure I was gonna be tagged.

After I finished peeing, I tried squeezing with my pussy walls to push more of the cum out, like I’d seen in pornos. I liked it leaking out and all, but I was home with my mom, and that would be super awkward if she smelled it or something! So I also tried to like, wipe up around there and get a little clean, but my pussy lips were still red and puffy, and I still had a little bit of an ache on my cervix. I had been fucked good.

Then I went out to help my mom with dinner, hoping that she wouldn’t notice. The other three days, I’d gotten home before her and had been able to take a shower, which helped.

“How was your day?” my mom asked, her hands busy with cutting some vegetables.

“Pretty good,” I said.

“I heard a rumor about you today.”

“Oh?” I worried that she knew about The Game and was gonna lay down the law or something.

“Yeah, that you were involved in some contest or something at school.”

“No idea what you’re talking ‘bout,” I lied.

“You know, it’s not like I don’t know anything about contests in high school.”

“Yeah, I know, mom!”

“There was one that I played when I was just a freshman ... oh, what was it?” She made a show of thinking, but I figured she already knew what she was about to say. “I think we called it Tag.”

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Tag? Like that schoolyard game?”

She laughed, rocking her head to flip some of her long red hair out of her face. “Kinda. It was a sex game, though.”

“No shit,” I said. One thing I loved about my mom is she didn’t care if I cussed.

“You’d better believe it.” She gave me a look that told me I shouldn’t mess with her. “And from what I hear, you’re playing Tag, yourself.”

“Uh...” I couldn’t think of a good way to defend myself. “Of course not!” I probably sounded so fake!

“Uh-huh,” she nodded. “When did it start?”

I considered lying to her ... but I knew there was no point. I was already outed as a slut at school, and it was a matter of time before that got back to her for real. And I was probably gonna be knocked up anyway. So I looked down at my feet sheepishly. “Monday.”

She pursed her lips, “And how many points do you have?”

“Twenty,” I admitted.

She laughed. “See, I knew you were playing!”

“So wait, you’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m mad, but mostly that you didn’t talk to me first about it, sweetie.” She sighed, pushing the now-cut vegetables off the cutting board, then turning and resting her behind against the counter. “And I’ve got a confession for you.”

“Whatta ya mean?”

“So y’know how I said I’d played Tag when I was a freshman in high school?”

“Yeah.” My skin was crawling as the pieces clicked into place.

“Well, why do you think you were born like, right at the beginning of summer? One of the black guys who tagged me knocked me up with you.”

“Holy shit,” I said. I’d always wondered about dad, but this was the most she’d ever said.

“Now, I wouldn’t trade it for the world, sweetie. But I’m surprised they’re still able to get away with playing The Game.”

I laughed. “All the teachers and the principal are in on it, I bet. A portion of the pot’s set aside for them.”

She looked at me, confused. “The pot?”

“Yeah, like, all of the guys who tag have to put a hundred bucks in, and then whoever gets the most points splits the money with her senior buddy.”

“Hah, there’s a cash prize now?”

“There wasn’t when you played?”

“Nope! The only reward was pride at being the biggest slut. Back then, of course, the seniors basically blackmailed girls into playing.”

“Were you blackmailed, mom?”

“A little. My senior buddy—a girl named Priscilla—had gotten some nude pictures of me, and threatened to show them to my parents if I didn’t play. I didn’t really care, but I let myself get dragged in.” She stared wistfully into space. “It was kind of nice, for a while.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “Guess I passed the slut genes to you.”

“Nice of you to tell me, mom,” I whined, grinning at her. “But I’m seriously surprised you’re okay with this!”

“You’ve already gotten twenty loads of spunk in your pussy, young lady. There ain’t nothin’ I could tell you that’d change that. And since I figure you’ve already gotten your ass knocked up, there ain’t no harm in you trying to win the whole thing, especially if there’s a money prize.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” She looked at me with that mother gaze, and I knew she was telling the truth. “Though it’s gonna be mighty weird to be a grandma before I’m thirty. But I always wanted another kid.”

“Why didn’t you have any?”

“You know, the usual reasons. You, mostly. And I could never really find a guy to settle down with. Most of them disappeared when I told them I didn’t know who your daddy was.”

“No shit.”

“I think we’ve done alright, though, don’t you?”

“Yeah, and when I pop out your grandkid, we’ll figure it out.”

She grinned. “That’s the spirit! Now, I wanna know if the rules are the same since I was in school. How many girls are there competing?”

“Mom, you should just watch the video,” I protested.

“What video? They still have the website up or something?”

“Please,” I said. “It’s an app now. I think one of our math teachers made it.”

“They let that shit on the app store?” She raised an eyebrow.

“It bills itself as one of those stupid free games that you have to pay money for.”

She glanced at the food on the counter. “This can wait a minute; let’s go get my phone.”

“Sure, but it costs twenty bucks to just get access to the timelines and leaderboards, and only for the current game. And you gotta know the secret way to get there. That’s how they keep out all the people who don’t know about it.”

“I consider it an investment,” she said, walking into the living room as I followed. She got her phone off of the side table, where it was charging. “So, what’s the name of this app?”

“Tag,” I said, picking up my phone and showing her the icon. “The blue one there.”

She took a couple of moments fiddling with her phone—adults!—then exclaimed, “Ah, there it is. Okay, getting it now...” Then after a few moments, she moves her hand down so it’s easier for me to see her screen. “There it is. So I just tap on it...”

“It’ll look like a stupid game at first,” I said as the cartoon images of kids running around playing tag came up. “But what you gotta do is go into settings, then tap the upper-right corner five times.”

She did that, and a small, blue button appeared in the upper-left corner. “Tap that?”

“Drag it over to the right corner. That’ll unlock it so you can just tap five times in the corner to bring stuff up.” She dragged it over, and then the signup page appeared. “Now you just gotta sign up and put twenty bucks into the pot.” I grinned at her. “Hey, when I win it, then I’ll get a piece of it.”

“Sounds like a good investment, then,” she said, putting in her information. I watched her for the next couple of minutes as she went through the sign-up, paid the twenty bucks, and then input her password.

The top post in the timeline was still me getting fucked by that Asian guy. My mom stared at it for a moment, her eyes wide. Then she started scrolling through the timeline, looking at the pictures.

“This is a lot more advanced than the website we had when I was in school. You have videos, and likes, and comments. It’s like a social network.”

“Totally. And then on this tab,” I pointed at the tab bar, “Is where you can place bets.”

“Bets?”

“Yeah. I can’t do it or anything, but anyone else can, whether you’ve signed up to tag girls or not.”

She tapped over to it and scrolled a little. “I remember having odds of this sort of thing, but I don’t know if there was any betting.” She laughed. “Oh, ‘odds of having a black baby’ is still there! I had real good odds of that back when I played. Looks like you’ve got pretty good odds, too! Want me to place a bet on that?”

“Mo-om!” I protested.

She grinned at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll place all my bets when you’re not watching.” She looked back at the screen, “What’s this ‘paternity pool’?”

“It’s new this year. So like, if you’re a guy and you’ve paid up to tag girls, you can mark the pics or videos as being of you if you pay another like, ten or twenty bucks, I don’t know. Then if the girl gets knocked up, after she has the kid, they’ll do paternity testing, and if you’re the father, you win the money everyone put in for the girl.”

She laughed. “How many guys have signed up for that so far?”

“I dunno, it doesn’t say.”

“Probably not many. The whole point is to be anonymous.” She pursed her lips. “I’m guessing that whoever runs this takes a bit off the top of all this betting.”

“Probably.”

“So you mentioned a video. Aside from this video here of you getting fucked in a bathroom stall, of course.”

“Oh, yeah, there’s an intro video that I think you tapped past. Here...” I tapped on the settings tab, and then the “Re-watch Intro Video” button.

After a moment of loading, a video popped up of my face. I had forgotten I was the first. “Hi, I’m Ciara!” I waved for the camera—the shot itself had been taken in Jenny’s bedroom after school early last week.

It then flipped to similar shots of my four competitors, introducing themselves

“Hey there, I’m Lizzie!” A blonde girl with blue eyes, wisps of her long hair floating in her face. Outside in a backyard somewhere.

“Hi! I’m Aiko!” A Japanese girl with shoulder-length hair and a round face. In a classroom.

“Hi, I’m Betsy!” Another blonde, though maybe closer to brown. Lying on a bed with pink sheets.

“Hi, I’m Tiffany.” A third blonde, though the bottom half of her shoulder-length hair was dyed purple. Standing in the field behind our school.

“Lotta blondes,” my mom muttered.

“And we are the five girls who are tagged for The Game,” I said in the video.

Aiko: “And we’re going to see...”

Tiffany: “Just who is the biggest slut!”

Lizzie: “Let’s go over the rules.”

Over the next minute or two, cuts between us explained all of the rules: during the three weeks The Game is in session, any boy in the school who’s paid a hundred bucks using the app can “tag” each of us once, which means to fuck us. For every “tag” we get, we get a point—but it only counts if the guy cums in our pussy (this features a clip of each of us saying “in my pussy”). We can’t use any sort of birth control during that time—all natural. And it has to be captured on photo or video by our senior buddy, and uploaded in the app. It only counts while on school grounds, and during normal school hours, and the app will verify the timestamp and location information of every photo and video to verify that it follows the rules. There’s a cash prize for the senior-freshman pair that gets the most points.

Aiko: “And remember...”

Lizzie: “Anyone can use the app to follow the score leaderboard...”

Betsy: “Comment on pics and video...”

Tiffany: “Or bet on the contest...”

Aiko: “Like whether or not I’ll get knocked up...”

Tiffany: “Or if I’ll get a black baby...”

Me: “Or if I’ll be crowned the biggest slut!”

Lizzie: “So use the app, follow what’s going on, and be sure to place your bets!”

Betsy: “And find out who’s the biggest slut!”

Aiko: “If you want to find out more about us, check out our intro videos...”

Me: “And become part of The Game!”

FInally, it showed shots of each of us smiling, finishing with AIko doing her stupid peace-sign thing at the camera.

“Pretty slick,” my mom said as the video stopped and she was returned to the timeline.

“I actually had to read through the whole script,” I said. “I think each of us did, then someone cut them all together like that.”

“Who?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Probably one of the teachers or one of the senior girls.”

“So what’s this about more intro videos... ?” she tapped around a bit, then found mine.

“Hi! I’m Ciara!” For this one, I was along the side of our school building, walking casually while smiling at the camera. “I’m fourteen years old, and I’m a freshman here.” I took a few more steps in the video. “I like watching Youtube videos, painting my nails, and baking cupcakes.” I talked a little more about myself, and then said, “I’m playing in The Game this year because I want to be a total slut. I’m not on any sort of birth control, either, so you might be lucky enough to put a baby in my womb.” In the video, I put my hand on my stomach. “So won’t you try to make me a teen mom and tag me?”

“You’re really into this,” my mom commented as the video ended.

“Yeah,” I said sheepishly.

“How’d you get picked to play?”

“Jenny asked me if I’d be her freshman,” I said with a shrug. “And I said yes. I think it’s really more of a competition between the senior girls, because they have to do all the organizing any everything.”

“And you just volunteered?” My mom asked incredulously.

“Well, yeah.”

“Without talking to me first?”

“I figured you’d tell me to say no.”

She put her hand up to her forehead, massaging her temples with thumb and forefinger. “And you’d probably be right. But back in my day, you didn’t really volunteer. You kinda got blackmailed into it, like I said.” She looked at me all serious like. “Had you done anything sexual with anyone before starting?”

“Nope! I’ve never given a blow job—except maybe on Tuesday I helped get someone hard with my mouth before he tagged me—and I was a virgin until we started.”

“Who got your cherry, then?”

“Brenton. He’s Jenny’s boyfriend. She told him to spunk my little cherry pussy good ... if you scroll through my personal timeline, you can watch the video.”

At that, she clasped her hands, making it clear that she was done talking about this. “Maybe later. Right now I’ve got to get dinner on the table. While I do that, why don’t you go take a bath. It’ll help you relax, so it’s easier to get tagged more tomorrow. I’ll bring you to school extra early, and you can stay as late as you need to get points.”

“So you’re really serious about helping me with this?”

“Way I figure it, you’re probably already knocked up higher than a kite—and even if you aren’t, I wouldn’t be able to stop you anyways, so I might as well help you win.” She flashed me a grin, “Help me relive my glory days.”

I stepped close to her and gave her a big hug. “You’re the best, mom.”

“Just make sure you win, okay?”

“I’ll try!”

I hopped away to take a bath, and mom was right: I did feel better after it. Over dinner we pretended there wasn’t anything going on, and then I spent a bit of time doing homework. Even though I was a slut, I still had to study to get grades.

Though I’d heard a rumor that whoever won The Game also got straight A’s. But I wasn’t gonna risk that rumor.

Mom made me go to bed early, telling me I needed my rest. I was so exhausted, I fell asleep almost immediately. Must have been all the fucking!

Thankfully, I felt pretty refreshed in the morning. While my pussy had been a little sore Tuesday morning, by Friday my body was getting pretty used to being fucked, just like a good slut.

My mom even dropped me off at school super early—but it didn’t really matter, because I couldn’t actually get any points without Jenny there. So I just waited around out front till she showed up.

“Damn girl! You’re here early!” she said, walking up to me. “You ready to score some points today?”

“Oh yeah,” I said with a giggle. “Time for Ciara to take the lead!”

“Good, because there’s Carlos; I convinced him to tag you this morning. Hey Carlos!” She waved her hand at him.

Carlos was one of the Latino boys in the school. His parents were probably immigrants or something, because his English was only like, seventy percent there. He was a senior, and had a body that looked like it was chiseled from rock. It wouldn’t have been hard to convince me to fuck him, even when not playing The Game.

We didn’t even make it inside. Instead, we went around to the grassy side of the building, out of the view of the street and parking lot. Not many students walked by there in the morning. We both shucked off our clothes, and he screwed me on top of the damp grass, missionary style.

His cock was maybe a little bigger than average, but he knew how to use it, and pounded into me, forcing my ass and back to rub against the ground. I clutched his back with my arms, and wrapped my legs around him, giving him a chance to drive even deeper.

Jenny kept taking pictures as I begged Carlos to put a baby in me; he kept gibbering random Spanish. Not that I needed to understand: his cock did the talking. As he pounded into me, I thought I saw Tiffany walk by, grass in her hair. Little slut was probably scoring points behind the building!

I came, of course. Twice, before he finally drove deep and spunked right up against my fertile womb, giving me a third small orgasm. My cervix was fucking thirsty, I bet.

“That took too long,” Jenny moaned, checking her phone after Carlos got dressed and left. “Tiffany got two points in that time—I think it was the Blakely twins that tagged her—and we’ve gotta get to first period. Next time, squeeze his cock harder and make him cum!”

“I’ll try,” I muttered as we rushed into class. Thankfully, I wasn’t late, and had just a moment to check my phone, sitting in my desk, before the teacher walked in, Carlos’ cum starting to leak onto my panties.

Jenny had already uploaded the pictures of course, and had a great shot of my mouth in a perfect oh shape while I was cumming, my limbs wrapped around him. “Ciara starts her morning by getting some Mexican Meat stuffed in her Soft Taco!” the caption read; ten likes.

I heard a snigger behind me, and looked. One of my girl classmates, looking over my shoulder. “I bet a hundred bucks that you’ll get over seventy points. You’re such a slut, Ciara!”

“I bet fifty bucks that Tiffany’s gonna have a black baby,” another girl said. “And then fifty bucks that you are, Ciara—a little baby black as coal popping out of your slutty vagina.”

“Good morning, class,” Mr. Trace, our math teacher, said, walking into the room, shutting all of us up as we shuffled back into our seats facing forward. I hastily hid my phone, not wanting to get in trouble or anything.

Mr. Trace looked at me with a smirk for a moment. He had to be in on it, too. I wondered what bets he had put on me? That I would have twins?

There was even a bet that I would have twins from different daddies. Everyone knew it was something that was super rare, but it was always possible. No one probably bet on it, though.

He then started addressing everyone, and continued class like normal. I was a little sad that you didn’t get points for teachers, though I’d heard that last year one girl had tried to pass off some teacher fucks as real tags. She totally lost the game, and got sent to a private school after she got knocked up. I’d also heard that a couple of the girls in previous years had gotten abortions, which was kinda sad.

Me, I was gonna have the baby, no matter what.

Mr. Trace’s class was boring, but thankfully, I had study hall next, with Mr. Orville. He was a dirty old man that leered at all the girls. Again, it was too bad you didn’t get points for teachers.

But after like, two minutes of study hall, Jenny was there and talking with Mr. Orville, then she came over to me. “C’mon.”

“What?”

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