Chapter 14

Marsha was waiting for me the next morning, nervously pacing around in circles at the end of the street where Reggie lives. She's understandably afraid to go to Reggie's house alone. She asked me about her outfit, a short skirt and a semi sheer blouse.

I don't like being the one to have to tell her what she must already know from seeing the outfits Reggie make's me wear to school now. But I suppose it's in my own best interest to avoid getting the cruel bitch worked up first thing in the morning. I shook my head and said, "If Reggie sees you like that..."

I unbuttoned her blouse to below her breasts. I shook my head again and said, "Marsha! You know you can't wear a bra now! Reggie will freak out! Take it off!"

She turned bright red and stammered, "B-b-but..."

I shook my head and sternly said, "No buts! Take it off. Now!"

She already knows she has to do it. Meek as a kitten she reached under her blouse and unfastened the bra. She kept glancing around nervously as she carefully removed the bra without being too obvious. There are already kids walking past on the way to school. I reminded her that it doesn't matter. Not anymore. And she knows. She has an idea what today is going to be like for her. But she can't help being embarrassed.

She put her bra in her purse and I asked, "Are you wearing anything under your skirt?"

She must have shaken her head but I didn't see it. I can't help staring. I'm fascinated by, and very jealous of, her remarkable cleavage. She really does have sexy breasts.

I finally tore my eyes away from her breasts and repeated my question. She blushed and shook her head. I then had to tell her what I'm sure she already knows. "The skirt is too long."

She sighed and nodded. She shrugged and said, "It's the shortest one I own."

This is getting to be exasperating. Every girl knows what to do if her skirt is too long. I told her to roll the waistband under and then again when the first time didn't make it short enough.

I looked her over, shrugged and said, "Okay. It's up to her now. Let's go. I have to get changed."

Reggie yelled for us to come in when I knocked. She was frowning when we got back to her room. But she didn't say anything. She looked at Marsha's outfit and reluctantly said, "I suppose it will have to do. I guess you're going to have to earn some money so I can take you shopping."

Marsha knows what that means. It can't be coming as a huge revelation. I heard Reggie tell her about it yesterday. She knows Reggie makes me do it. Reggie intends to whore her out. She's going to make her undress under the bleachers and sell her to the boys at school for sex at lunchtime just like she does me.

I took off my normal clothes while Reggie examined Marsha. One of my new slut outfits is hanging behind her door for me. It's the wrap around dress with the belt closure. There aren't any buttons or snaps to hold it closed. There was apparently a button at the waist at one time but it either fell off or someone removed it. Now there's only the cloth belt at the waist to hold the garment together.

It's very short, of course. It's one of the few dresses Reggie thought was already short enough when they selected it for me. Or at least when I tried it on she didn't say it needs to be shortened.

The dress is tight on me. It probably doesn't overlap in front as much as the designer intended. That's a problem because aside from the possibility of the sides separating if I don't pay attention, the dress has a very deep cleavage. The front of the little dress doesn't come together until well below my breasts. I'm sure it would have been very sexy on Marsha with her well developed chest. While it's revealing on me it isn't nearly as sexy because of my small breasts.

Mr. Curry might like it because of his preference for small breasts. But I know I'm going to catch a lot of grief from the boys at school.

Reggie inspected me after I finished dressing. She smiled; no doubt in anticipation of the humiliation we all know will be heaped upon me when we reach school. We gathered our things and started walking but she has another surprise in store for Marsha before we even get to school. When we got to the intersection at the end of the street Reggie stopped and said, "I forgot to check something before we left the house."

She turned to Marsha and smiled sweetly. Then she asked, "Are you wearing underwear?"

Marsha shook her head and exclaimed, "No! You told me I couldn't!"

I don't think Marsha has any idea what's coming. Reggie sighed and said, "I don't know if I can trust you, Marsha. I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that you prove it."

Marsha stared at Reggie as it finally sank in. She started to look around as if to make sure no one would see. She doesn't realize I've been through this several times at this intersection. The many small groups of kids who have begun to slow down around us are preparing to stop, eagerly anticipating another slutty performance.

Reggie snarled, "You don't have time for sightseeing, cunt! You look at me!"

Marsha moaned under her breath and forced herself to ignore the fact that there are kids all around us. She did the same thing I did the first time Reggie put me through this. She attempted to discreetly pull up the center of her skirt in front, just enough to reveal her bare crotch.

Reggie stared at her, obviously not satisfied. But instead of ordering her to lift her skirt up around her waist the way she did me, she turned to me and ordered me to show her what's required of her.

Damn! I thought I was going to get out of it today!

I lifted my skirt up to my waist, all the way around, and stood holding it, waiting helplessly with a dark red face and neck for Reggie to give me permission to let it drop.

Marsha stared at my exposed body in shock for a moment, too stunned by what's being required of her to move.

Reggie furrowed her eyebrows and said, "You've just earned a punishment, you stupid cunt. Would you care to try for two?"

That finally got Marsha moving. She pulled her little skirt up and held it around her waist. Her face looks as red as mine feels. You might expect that I'd be accustomed to this sort of public humiliation by now. I'm not. It's almost as embarrassing this morning as it was the first time she made me do it. It doesn't seem to help that there are two of us now, either.

Reggie ordered us to turn around slowly. I tried to stare at the sidewalk as I turned around. But I couldn't avoid seeing all the kids who have seen what's going on and have come to a stop to watch Marsha and I expose our bodies from the waist down.

We were allowed to let our skirts fall back into place as soon as we were facing Reggie again. Grinning widely she turned without another word and headed toward school. We walked behind her like the docile sex slaves we are now. We walked side by side in silence until we reached the school.

As we turned into the schoolyard I watched for some sign that I'm dismissed. She never tells me in advance what her intentions are. But Reggie decided to keep me around today. The three of us made our way through the throngs of kids to the place she normally meets up with her friends. The kids who weren't at Reggie's house yesterday must have already been filled in on what they missed by Tank, Tara and Steph. They're all grinning at Reggie as we approach.

Carol looked disdainfully at Marsha, already relegating her one time friend to the status of sex slave. She turned to Reggie, grinned and eagerly exclaimed, "So! You did it again!"

Her admiration for Reggie's skills as a rapist and breaker of young girls is apparent.

Reggie smiled proudly and demonstrated her power over us by ordering both of us to once more lift our skirts and turn around slowly.

We're already attracting a lot of attention. Dozens of our classmates watched as Marsha and I bared our lower bodies and slowly turned around. Before we were permitted to lower our skirts I felt a hand on my ass and I saw Marsha jump. I glanced over my shoulder to see Matt and Kevin.

Kevin has apparently told Matt everything. He's standing behind Marsha, gripping her left ass cheek. The two boys compared our asses using the crudest terms and speaking loudly enough that everyone around us can hear them.

Kevin described in detail how tight Marsha's ass is and how much he enjoyed fucking it, after he fucked her mouth and her pussy.

We could hear the girls around us gasping or giggling, depending on their reaction and personal feelings about the things Reggie and her friends are doing to us. The boys near enough to enjoy watching have a different and pretty much universal reaction. They appreciate the display we're being forced to provide and they're jealous of Kevin.

I can look around and see the curious looks on the faces of the girls who are, or who were Marsha's friends. I know that just like my friends have done, her friends will quickly begin to shun her. I'm now the closest thing she has to a friend. And through the process of elimination she has suddenly become the closest thing I have to a friend.

Even Trish has been avoiding me lately. I don't blame her. I did, after all, recommend that she stay far away from me. But it makes me sad because she was the last of my friends to melt away and I hate it that even though she knows I'm being blackmailed and have to do these things she can't handle being seen with me.

Reggie finally let us cover up but by the time she did the damage was done. I'm starting to get used to this ... sort of. My heart still beats like crazy when I'm forced to do something like this and my skin is so red from blushing I feel it tingling almost painfully. I no longer feel like I'm going to pass out, though.

But Marsha is only just beginning to accept her new status as a sex slave. It's just starting to sink in that from this moment on, she's going to be fondled and groped and sexually harassed constantly, just the way I am. She'll probably suffer even more since she's blessed with those nice tits to draw the attention of the boys who'll soon be taking advantage of her.

Reggie ordered us to meet her under the oak tree at noon and in her own inimitable and increasingly regal way she dismissed us. The groping started as soon as we turned and began trying to make our way through the numerous small groups of kids between us and the front door of the school.

Marsha jerked around like a puppet on a string at first, trying to avoid the hands of the boys who, thanks to the precedence I've already set and the obscene display orchestrated by Reggie, realize they have just been given tacit permission to explore our bodies at will. After a week of this most of them are already accustomed to groping me to their heart's content. They know from the show we were just forced to put on that Marsha is fair game now, too. Most of them don't have a clue as to why we do the things we now do. But they don't care as long as they can have their fun.

We got halfway to the door before half a dozen boys surrounded us. They're all boys who were invited to Reggie's house days earlier to rape me. This morning they concentrated most of their attention on Marsha. She's fresh meat.

I wasn't ignored. Ryan stood in front of me and looked at my dress. He reached out and slowly pulled the sides apart without untying the belt. When he was finished my entire front was exposed. The belt served only to hold my dress open for the amusement of him and all the other kids watching.

Seth and Perry, meanwhile, are devoting their attention to Marsha. I heard her sobbing quietly while Seth unbuttoned her blouse. Perry reached up under her skirt. It has to be obvious to everyone around us that he's groping her pussy.

Todd doesn't want to be left out. He reached up under the back of her skirt and began to grope her ass.

I was aware of more boys joining the group surrounding us. I saw Kevin standing off to the side. He's obviously getting a kick out of watching his classmates expose his ex girlfriend and grope her body freely. I probably shouldn't have been surprised. Not after what I've been through and what I've learned about boys in the last week. But I just can't help being astounded by how very much he obviously enjoys the humiliating things these other boys are doing to her.

There were probably thirty or forty of them around us by the time the bell finally rang. There were a few crude comments when they first started to molest us. But after that, for the next nearly ten minutes until the bell rang that large group of boys was unnervingly quiet while they stood around watching us being displayed and groped.

By the time the bell rang I was ready to start crying, too. I don't want to. I cried almost constantly the first three or four days. I'm tired of it. But more importantly I have finally come to realize that all I manage to do by crying so much is demonstrate and reinforce how weak I am to the boys who fall all over themselves for a chance to take advantage of my situation. When I do that I only empower them to humiliate and degrade me all the more.

When the other kids began filing in through the front door the boys molesting us reluctantly drifted away in twos and threes. But our ordeal didn't end with the ringing of the bell. Even as they began wandering toward the door many of the boys who have been out of reach in the back of the pack took advantage of the opportunity to reach in for a few quick feels. When the groping finally ended Marsha and I took a moment to put our clothing back in order.

Dressing in front of the school with scores of kids watching turns out to be every bit as embarrassing as you might imagine. And this isn't even the first time for me! It doesn't matter, though. It doesn't get easier. Marsha and I looked into each other's teary eyes for a few seconds. We didn't speak. There's nothing to say; no way to take away the trauma of this sort of treatment. We only sighed in resignation and turned toward the door to run the gauntlet to our lockers.

The rest of the morning passed the way all my mornings pass now. I was surprised when Reggie didn't order me to report to Mr. Curry and Mr. Perez at lunch time. But she didn't and I ended up under the bleachers again. This time Marsha joined me and because we had no choice we quickly undressed for the entertainment of a still growing number of our fellow students.

The crowd that forms to watch Reggie whore me out grows larger every day as word of our activities spread. I'm not keeping track. But it looks like there are more than fifty kids watching today. I never fail to be surprised by how many of the kids in the crowd are girls who seem more than mildly amused by the terrible things Reggie makes me, and now me and Marsha, do.

It's Marsha's first day as a prostitute. Understandably, she's really upset about it. She cried quietly for the entire hour. But she obeyed every order. She's broken now, just like me. We'll both do anything Reggie orders us to do no matter how humiliating and disgusting.

Together we made two hundred and seventy dollars for Reggie over the lunch hour. That's a pretty good income. Especially when you consider it's tax free and all Reggie has to do is stand around and watch her classmates come forward two at a time for the opportunity to rape Marsha and me.

Today the kids got a special show. When Reggie was finished pimping us out she made us eat the cum from each other's pussy before she let us get dressed.

I saw the shock on Marsha's face when Reggie gave the order. She looked like she was going to be sick. I wasn't happy about it. But after a week of performing disgusting and degrading acts for the amusement of others I was less freaked out.

The kids who have been standing back watching us getting raped for money started closing in around us. I ignored them. I didn't even look up to see how many of them I know. I've learned it's best to keep my mind as blank as possible while performing for Reggie.

No one thought to provide us with a blanket today. We've been on our hands and knees in the dirt while giving out blowjob after blowjob to any boy with the cash to pay Reggie while at the same time serving as a mindless cum dump for every boy to whom she sold our pussies or asses. We were still on our hands and knees when she ordered us to clean each other. We both sat up on our heels. We both turned, ignoring the expectant looks on the faces of the kids still gathered around to watch this final humiliation to look at Reggie as if hoping she had just been joking. But we both know better.

I told Marsha to turn around and get back down on all fours. She stared at me with a blank look as if totally uncomprehending; though it's more likely she's just in denial. She looks like she's about to have a breakdown. I understand perfectly. I feel pretty close to losing it, too.

I held her cheeks in my hands and forced her to look me in the eyes. When I saw some sign that she's more or less aware I'm talking to her I whispered, "You know we have to do this. It's just cum. You've already swallowed a gallon of it. Now turn around and get back down on your hands and knees. I'll lick you clean and then you'll have to do it for me."

She looked like she was going to refuse until I whispered, "Remember that cattle prod, Marsha. If you piss Reggie off she'll zap you with that thing until she has an orgasm."

Marsha's face crumbled and the tears started again. But she slowly turned around and got back down on her hands and knees. I tried to calm my stomach as I looked at her well fucked orifices and the stream of slime that's still draining out of her. I reminded myself that I've done worse things. Then, with Tara holding the camera in my face and my classmates and dozens of kids from other classes watching closely, I bent down and began to lick up the mess between Marsha's legs.

I worked fast. I have absolutely no desire to drag this out any longer than necessary. I want to get my dress back on before the bell rings. I'm going to have to go to the girl's restroom to clean up and I prefer doing that before everyone starts streaming back inside.

I lapped up all of the mess I could. It wasn't as bad as it sounds. I've swallowed so much cum in the last week it hardly bothers me anymore. What bothers me more is the camera capturing every degrading move I make and all the kids watching, especially the kids who were once my friends.

When Marsha was as clean as I can get her with my tongue I popped her on the butt and said, "Okay. It's your turn. Hurry up and get it over with so we can go inside and clean up before the bell rings. The faster you do what she wants the faster this ordeal will come to an end."

Well, that isn't really accurate. Our ordeal won't end. It just moves on to the next phase.