Basketball Terror 2 - Cover

Basketball Terror 2

Copyright© 2025 by Zen Master

Chapter 29: Friday at School

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 29: Friday at School - The definitive sequel to Paladin's "Basketball Terror". What happened after that riot? This is a BDSM story. It is heavy on the forced sex. Mostly MF, but some FF and chapter 23 has a short forced MM segment. There's even some plot, too, but you might have to look close to find it. -ZM

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/ft   Slavery   Crime   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Interracial  

Tiny was in the office waiting for me when I got back from class. We went for a walk again “to check out the track” so we could talk. The temporary jail in the warehouse was still working fine, but everyone was getting stretched thin.

The two girls they were keeping at the warehouse, Kathy and Terry, were recovered from their ordeal about as much as they were going to. The only reason to keep them would be for their help training the two cunts. They were pretty happy with that, getting licked out by either cunt whenever they wanted.

The cunts were doing well, too. As long as they licked pussy whenever they were told, nobody was hurting them. Whenever they balked, well, they got whipped, they got slapped, they got tied up in uncomfortable positions, they got an assortment of cocks shoved in every hole they had. Those were their two choices: happy submissive obedient cunt for women, or miserable disobedient whipped cunt for men.

Tiny had Sandra there as well, helping the two cunts learn how much they loved to lick pussy. The more pussies they got to practice on, the better. Dimona was pitching in, too, giving the two cunts another pussy to lick whenever the girls needed a rest. Daisy would probably help, but we should keep her out of this if we could. Could Alice and Melanie and Shanda come by more often and help out? Could _I_ come by and help out?

The biggest problem they had at the warehouse was man-power. Bubba needed help. Dimona wanted her pussy to have a fresh load of spunk whenever she made a cunt lick her, and Bubba was just worn out. They needed to bring in some fresh dick. Not necessarily to fill Dimona’s twat, but to help fill the cunts’ holes whenever they acted up. And to make sure that the two cunts never got any ideas about leaving.

I agreed that we could probably all go by there after school. We had other errands to run, so we’d be out. Sure, getting all three of my women licked out by eager submissive lesbian slaves sounded like just what they needed.

Tiny was there whenever he could be, especially since Sandra could help, but they needed more men. Or, to get rid of the two cunts so that they could close the operation down. I told him that I may have a home for one of them, and explained what was going on with Irene.

He didn’t have any problems with Irene taking one cunt home with her. That would be great. That just left one cunt as needing a good home. I didn’t have any ideas on that, yet, but if there was only one cunt in jail we could probably move the jail somewhere else. Someone’s house, wherever.

I really didn’t want her. Not long term, not even for a couple of days. I had three women I needed to be nice to with maybe two kids coming soon. None of them needed having me treat the stupid cunt the way she deserved to be in their faces all the time.

Maybe one of the other male coaches could take her in? She’s yours, use her any way you want. Bring any winning team over to your house to be rewarded. Varsity football, freshman baseball team, hell, even the winning team of the fourth-period PE basketball tournament.

That wouldn’t work, though. Someone would talk, and we’d have the FBI up our ass again. I could lose Alice! Oh, HELL no! Both of those cunts had to go somewhere else.

Could we give Cunt One to Horace? Put her to work in the school office under Beverly’s thumb? Have her actually help grading papers and stuff. That could actually work. She had a degree and several years experience as a high school teacher. We could get some actual useful work out of her, if we could keep everyone from killing her. After school, use her to reward individuals for performing well on, well, anything.

Track season was coming up. Any W-C student who wins any event at a track meet gets head from Coach Piper.

Baseball season was after that. Make it a standing rule. Coach Piper will give head to anyone who hits a home run. Not intramural, the batters would pay the pitchers to give them good pitches, but real home runs in actual games against other schools. Maybe make it only if we win the game. We don’t want to reward people who swing at bad pitches in hopes of a home run.

Get straight “A”s on your report card? Any service you want, within reason. Head, pussy, ass, yes. Pissing on her, no. I bet W-C’s average grades would go up fast if we started doing that! Straight “A”s for more than one report? Every time you repeat with straight “A”s, a night with Coach Piper, and she’ll do whatever you want all night.

That would only work if there were only a few people with straight “A”s, though. If a reporting period was six weeks, that was only 42 nights before the next reporting period. No, it was never that exact, but if there were more than forty or so students who were carrying straight “A”s, they’d have to start doubling up on her. I didn’t think the students would mind, but someone would have to play referee.

I wanted to stay out of that. I had my women and as far as I was concerned my life was perfect. Anything else I did was more likely to fuck my life up, not make it better. Maybe Horace could give managing the cunt to Beverly. Beverly could make the cunt give her some personal services, too, as long as Horace allowed it.

Or, if she wanted to stay ‘faithful’ to Horace, she wouldn’t have to do anything herself. We could provide a couple of fine upstanding young men to provide any muscle needed. If the young men got good grades, we wouldn’t even have to pay them. They’d get paid in personal services.

As long as the cunt wasn’t ever put in a position of actual authority, everyone should feel safe. The cunt would probably even volunteer to serve in W-C’s office and help us out. Given a choice between that and going to prison for raping little girls, she’d probably be better off with us. At least with us, we’d have good reason to keep her alive and healthy, if not necessarily happy. In prison, she’d be someone’s bitch, and her owner wouldn’t much care if she lived or not. There were always more bitches around when she was used up.

Don’t believe there are people like that? Go look at my sister.

I did have more shit for Tiny to do, though. We had to check on Sammy. I hadn’t seen him all week. I hadn’t even heard from him, and that was unusual. He was pretty fucked up and always doing something stupid, and what Sammy was up to today was usually a big gossip thing.

We lost people all the time down here. People who didn’t have family, didn’t have friends. If anything happened to them, they died alone, wherever they were. That was part of what Horace and me were trying to build up, a sense of family and community.

If Sammy needed help, I didn’t want someone to find him next week after he’d died. I told Tiny to break the door down if it was locked and Sammy didn’t answer when he knocked.

That was all I had time for. I had to get ready for my Government class. If I had time after class I’d start on the homework, but that would probably have to wait for the weekend. There was always something else going on that needed my attention.

Alice wasn’t back by the time I was done with class, so I went to help out at lunch. The kids were turning into young men and women, and lunchtime was when some of their issues came out. There was almost always at least one fight, either between two boys over a girl or between two girls over a boy. And, because boys are stupid and easily led around by their dicks, a lot of the fights between boys were instigated by the girl.

Today was no different from any other day, except that the general mood was better. Everyone was happier on Friday than they were on Monday, right? By lunchtime, the day was half over. The kids could see their weekend comin’ over the hill.

Monday’s fights were usually about what one of our young ladies had done over the weekend, with Boy One instead of Boy Two. Friday’s fights were usually about what one of our young ladies was going to do this coming weekend, and who she was going to do it with. Today, it appeared that a young lady had promised some quality personal time tonight with more than one boy, and the boys didn’t want to share.

Since the young lady in question had been the subject of more than one fight before, I was pretty sure that neither one was gonna get anything from her unless they tied her up. She just liked to be so important that men would fight over her. Stupid bitch. There’s a difference between being fought FOR and being fought OVER.

People you care about get fought for, to protect them. Your family. Your girlfriend, your wife, your sister, your daughter. She has problems with other people, you fight to protect her.

Only property, cars and money and stuff, get fought OVER. The pile of cash you and your buddy just found on the ground that a drug dealer dropped doesn’t care who owns it. The two of you could just split it, but if you want to fight over who gets the whole thing, it doesn’t mind.

Human beings mind. Human beings don’t want to be property. If the stupid bitch wants to be fought over, she’s as good as admitting that she doesn’t consider herself to be a valuable human being in her own right. She’s just property, to be owned by whoever wins the fight.

Me and the other teachers monitoring the lunchroom ended up giving another human rights and values lecture. “You people just shut up and listen. Go ahead and eat, you don’t have that much time, but be quiet and listen while you chew. I know that every one of you has heard of the Civil War. That war was about a lot of things, but one of the things it established was that blacks were people with the same rights as white people and brown people and red people and blue people and green people...”

I just wasn’t into it today. I had too much on my mind. I let Al Brown give the lecture this time while I babysat the young woman who wanted to be treated like property and the two young men who wanted to fight over who got to do it. Was I seriously about to adopt three kids?

I did get to ask the two idiots if they really thought that what they were fighting over was worth it. Did they really think that the prize they won would stay won? No, she’d be getting two other idiots to fight over her next week. Did they really think that they’d win anything worth the effort? Hadn’t their ‘prize’ done this same exact thing with other young men several times before? Were any of the previous idiots still trying to get or keep her? No! Why not? It was because they’ve learned that whatever they got from fighting over her wasn’t worth the effort.

If any of the young men who had gotten in a fight over her in the past had been happy with the results, she’d have a boyfriend who would fight to keep her, so he could continue to be happy with his girlfriend. She didn’t have a boyfriend. Ergo, not one single boy before them had gotten what they wanted from the fight. What were the chances that they would get any sort of reward, and even if they did, would the reward be worth anything?

The saying was that they were buying a ‘pig in a poke’, or something unseen in a closed bag. They wouldn’t know if there really was a pig in that poke or just some dirt until they’d paid for the poke and gotten it handed to them.

No, I wasn’t calling her a pig, she really was fairly attractive PHYSICALLY, but she was trying to get them to buy something when she had no intention of actually giving them anything of value. Either that, or she was engaged in prostitution. Not that I had a problem with that as long as she was honest and provided value for value, but if she was going to be a whore she really needed a pimp to protect her. Pretty little girls who promised things to men and then didn’t deliver usually didn’t live very long. Either that, or she needed to work for a business that would protect her.

If the boys really wanted value for their effort, they should go get a job, then take their pay to the Crib a couple of times. The Crib didn’t hire young ladies who promised the world but never delivered anything. The Crib had skilled professionals who would show them a good time. It wouldn’t matter if the boys had years of experience or had never done anything, the women at the Crib would teach them what they needed to know and they’d walk away a lot happier than what was happening here. The two of them were beating each other up for something that didn’t really exist. It was a mirage.

Then, once they knew what they were doing, they should get their own girlfriend. Someone they liked and respected. Find a young lady who WANTED to be with him, someone who liked and respected him. Spend all their pay on HER. Treat her nice and she’d treat him nice. If she was the sort of nice, honest young woman they wanted as a girlfriend, that is. They’d get a lot farther by concentrating on one young lady than they would fighting over someone who just liked getting fought over.

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