Chapter 1

"The girls are all set up in the basement," Mrs. Jameson said, leading me across the kitchen. "They're excited to hear your presentation."

"That's quite something," I replied. "I never thought that a girls' club would be interested in global warming and glacier research in Greenland."

"Oh, they're quite enthusiastic!" Mrs. Jameson chuckled. "They've been planning this for months now."

"Months?" I asked, surprised. "But ... they only contacted me last week."

"Did I say 'months'? I'm sorry, I meant uh ... they've thought about the idea months ago, but, um, you know, they've only been planning it for a couple of weeks."

"Well, I hope I can live up to their expectations!"

"Oh, I'm sure you will," she grinned.

I stopped to look at the pictures on the refrigerator. "I didn't know that Janice had a younger sibling."

"Oh gosh," Mrs. Jameson said, looking down, "that is, or rather, that was her young sister Ava ... but she died as an infant."

"Oh, I'm sorry..."

"No, it's okay," she gave me a brave smile. "It's my one regret, not having more children. Do you have regrets, Mr. Michaels?"

"Regrets? Of course I do."

"What would you give to make up for them?"

I thought back. "Almost anything, I suppose."

"Me too." Mrs. Jameson opened the door to the basement and motioned me to descend the stairs. "They're down there."

"Excellent. Thank you."

"Have fun and ... I apologize." Mrs. Jameson said, shutting the heavy steel door behind me followed by what sounded like a series of locks and deadbolts being slid into place.

"Uh..." suddenly, something felt very, very wrong. I descended the stairs carefully.

At the bottom there was another door. I opened it and stepped into the Jameson's basement recreation-room.

"Girls?" It was dark and it took my eyes a few minutes to adjust. I took a couple of tentative steps forward.

"Good evening, girls, I..." I halted in mid sentence, looking down. I was standing on a mattress! "Wait ... what is going on here?"

I looked up, shocked. The entire room was lit with soft lights and candlelight. The floors were covered, wall to wall, with mattresses and blankets and comforters. Around the perimeter of the room were some old, soft, overstuffed sofas and dozens upon dozens of soft, fluffy throw pillows

But it wasn't the furniture that immediately caught my attention. No, what caught my attention were the girls. Eight girls, sitting on sofas, reclining against pillows, lying on the floor...

... all dressed in white, diaphanous, flowing nylon and lace nightgowns.

"What's going on here, girls?" I repeated, concerned.

"What's the matter, Mr. Michaels?" asked Janice, one of my best students. She got up and walked towards me, her nightgown gently clinging to her bosoms and outlining her slender legs. "Don't you think we're beautiful?"

"That's not the question," I responded in my best authoritative teacher voice. "I'm a teacher and you're my students. You shouldn't be dressed like this in my presence. It's improper."

"We're not your students right now," Janice said, stepping closer and looking up at me with her soft brown eyes. "It's summer vacation. And you never answered my question. Don't we look beautiful?"

She was now standing so close I could smell her perfume. Looking closer, I realized she was wearing makeup - as if she had just had a makeover - and she looked stunningly gorgeous. I could just make out her nipples standing out hard tenting the white nylon of the nightgown.

Janice placed a hand on my chest, stroking it gently. "Don't we look beautiful?" she asked again. "We tried really hard."

"Yes," I said, losing myself for a second. "You look absolutely gorgeous. But that doesn't matter! I'm leaving."

I took a step backwards, bumping into another girl who had suddenly appeared behind me. It was Heather, a shy, but brilliant flute player who was also in my geology class.

"Please don't go," Heather said, pressing into me from behind. "We're just getting started. Here, let me take your bag so you can stay a while and enjoy our hospitality."

Caught off-guard, I let Heather take my laptop and put it aside.

"Besides, nobody will ever know," Janice continued. "We've signed a pact."

"What sort of pact?" I stammered.

Janice reached down and unbuckled my belt before I was able to push her hands away. She looked over to Jane and Pamela. "A little help here?"

I tried to move away, but just then Heather pushed into me, causing me to momentarily lose my balance.

In a flash, Pamela and Jane jumped up and each grabbed an arm holding it tight to their firm, young bodies. They were both top players on the volleyball team (ranked second in the state).

"Girls..." I said, getting desperate. "Please! Hey! Stop that!!"

Janice unzipped the zipper on my jeans and pushed them down to my ankles. "Stacy?" she called out.

Stacy joined her, both of them undoing the shoelaces of my black shoes.

"What ... what do you mean, a pact?" I asked, struggling to try and slip free.

"Stop asking questions and just enjoy," Heather said, reaching around from behind to pull my jacket off, with help from Jane and Pamela.

"Got it!" Stacy announced, gleefully, lifting up my leg so she could slip off my right shoe and toss it aside.

"Me too!" Janice added, repeating the same procedure with the other one. "Eve!" she called out. "Kristen, Zoe! Come help!"

The final three girls joined in and, in a coordinated effort, I was pushed backwards, all of them lowering me down to the mattresses and comforters.

Two girls reached out to unbutton my shirt, while two more pulled at the legs of my pants, slipping them easily down my legs and off.

"Briefs! I told you he wore briefs!" Kristen said.

"You stop this right now!" I shouted, trying to be as firm as possible but starting to panic. Pumping my arms and legs I managed to turn and get to my knees. But as I started to use my new-found leverage to get to my feet, Kristen and Eve pulled my legs hard backwards, causing me to fall flat to the ground again.

Somehow I ended up on my stomach, my face pressed into in Heather's nylon-covered lap.

Heather scissored her legs around my head, pressing my face even more firmly against her crotch, while Jane and Pamela re-acquired my hands and held them behind my back.

"Mr. Michaels," Heather said gently, "Please don't struggle. Please! We think you're amazing - that's why we chose you. We were hoping that you would enjoy spending this time with us."

Kristen and Zoe, holding my legs firmly to the floor behind me, each peeled off a sock and threw them aside.

I continued to fight, desperately trying to wrench my limbs free. In the process, my face rubbed against Heather's pubic mound, which I suddenly realized was damp and smelled strongly of female sex.

"Get his briefs off!" someone called out.

Janice and Stacy struggled to pull my briefs down, but they wouldn't go.

"Ow, shit!" I cried out, my voice muffled as they pulled harder.

"You're hurting him!" Zoe said, frantically. "Here!" she held out a pair of scissors, "just cut them off!"

A few quick snips and my briefs were no more.

"His shirt too! Just cut it off."

Like a wild horse, I bucked as hard as I could, trying to get away. "Hold on to him, girls!" Janice said, lying prostrate over my hips, as my shirt was cut away and discarded.

But my air supply was restricted by Heather, whose legs maintained a vice grip around my head, and every other part of my (now naked) body was held down by a girl in a nightgown. After ten minutes of struggling, I stopped, twisting my head as much as I could to get a breath which was not through layers of filmy nightgown and wet pussy.

"Turn him over," Janice said. All eight girls traded limbs and flipped me over.

"Oh!" they all said in unison, as my penis was revealed, already getting hard from all the intimate contact.

"I told you," said Stacy, triumphantly, as Eve placed a hand on my cock and gave it a squeeze with a wicked giggle. "I told you he'd be perfect!"

Embarrassed, I struggled again, this time managing to jerk an arm free, which accidentally whacked Pamela in the face.

"Shit!" She cried out, tumbling over, holding her cheek.

"Get him!" Stacy shouted out.

Scrambling, I was able to get my head free of Heather's legs just as the other girls were able to contain and capture my arms and legs again, pulling me back down to the mattress floor. Heather took that opportunity to scoot further forward and re-wrap her legs around my head and neck again.

I looked to the side and saw Pamela massaging her cheekbone.

"I'm sorry, Pamela," I said, trying to catch my breath from the struggle. "Are you okay?"

"Please," she replied, grinning. "I get whacked like this every volleyball practice. I'll be fine."