Chapter 3

When the door to his office opened the sight of young, beautiful Alina Rogers was everything Jerry Senders had hoped for. The once haughty, self-assured girl looked utterly defeated and confused. Her skin was paler than normal and there was a sad expression on her pretty face. She seemed surprised to see him and she glanced back down at the pass she was holding in her hand.

"Jerry?" she said. "Sorry, I'm ... Mrs. Simon wanted to see me. Excuse me..."

"Take a seat, Alina," he said with a stern voice. "And close the door."

The girl tensed but she didn't argue. After closing the door she took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. She looked really uncomfortable and she wouldn't match his knowing stare.

Perfect, he thought.

"I understand you missed most of third hour," he said.

She looked shocked. "I ... l-look, Jerry, I'm supposed to see Mrs. Simon but she must have written the wrong office number on the pass. She sent for me, see?"

Jerry pretended to glance at the hall-pass the girl held up to him with a trembling hand. "I believe that says you're to see your counselor in office 3C," he said, keeping his voice stern. "This is office 3C, Alina. I'm your new counselor. Mrs. Simon asked me to take over some of her students and you're one of them."

He forced himself not to grin as some of the girl's old snobbishness returned to her expression. The look reminded him of her mother. She said, "Mom won't like this. You're not supposed to have anything to do with me at school, you know that. She was very clear in that letter she wrote to Principal--"

"Quiet!" Jerry snapped. "I know all about that letter but guess what? The situation has changed because you've been tagged. Don't try to deny it."

The girl's wide, beautiful eyes opened to their fullest and a look of horror came across her face.

"Jerry," the child squeaked. "I don't ... I don't know what you've heard..."

"Enough," the man said. "I don't want to hear excuses. And I don't want to hear you call me 'Jerry' anymore. I'm not 'Jerry' your mother's boyfriend. I'm 'Mr. Senders', your school counselor. Understand?"

"Yes, yes," the girl nodded. "Mr. Senders..."

"Now, about third hour. It seems like you were quite busy," Jerry said as he clicked away at his laptop. The pictures Heather had given him were all so gorgeous that it was hard to choose which one to show the lovely Alina. He settled on one of her draped over a bean-bag chair. The way her legs were splayed and the look on her face made the girl seem especially slutty so he maximized it then spun the computer around for the girl to see.

Her face flushed with embarrassment. "Jerry," she said, her voice begging. "I m-mean, Mr. Senders, that's ... you don't understand..."

"I think I do understand," the man said. "You're playing the Game. I have half a mind to tell your mother about it. She might have broken my heart but I still love her and the last thing she'd want is for you to be involved in something like this." The high school counselor reached for his phone.

"NO!" Alina gasped. "Please, d-don't do that! She doesn't need to know I ... I can just quit. Okay? I'll quit right now, I promise! I didn't even want to play, I never wanted to get tagged, I had no choice, okay?"

Jerry pretended to mull that over. "Well, Alina, if you quit the Game your mom will find out about it anyway. Wasn't that explained to you? Only the winner gets to remain anonymous. All the losers have their pictures exposed to the whole wide world: their family, their friends, everyone."

"I ... I know," the pretty Sophomore sobbed. "But please, don't tell on me. I just, I want a chance to win. I have to win. You ... you used to talk about being my step-dad one day. If you ever meant that please, please just leave me alone, okay? Mom doesn't need to know, no one needs to know..."

"Stand up and take off your clothes," Jerry said.

"What?!" the girl shrieked.

"Stand up and take off your clothes, slut!" Jerry said again. "If you want to play the Game so badly, I'll teach you how to play. Go on, do it!"

He watched in awe as the suddenly timid girl sobbed but, after a moment, began to pull off her tight low-cut shirt that featured two cartoon pandas on it. She stood up at the same time, right in front of his desk, and she defeatedly dropped the shirt to the floor. Tears dripped down her youthful face as she begged him with her large, innocent eyes but she received no mercy from him. Realizing this she placed a foot on the chair, took off her shoe, and then repeated the process. Finally she fumbled with her trembling hands and removed her pants and her underwear. She was completely naked and it was a sight to see.

She had a vulnerable, sexy young body. Pert little tits, nice narrow waist, and legs that would no doubt one day fulfill any man's fantasy. Her flowing blond hair cascaded around her immature yet sexy face and contrasted the look of humiliation and defeat in her eyes in a way that made her seem more attractive than all the makeup in world could.

"Good," he said. His throat was dry. "Now turn around and place your hands flat on the desk. Keep your back straight. Good, good."

He was now staring at her back and it was lovely, smooth, flawless. The top of her gorgeous round ass could barely be seen over the edge of his desk. "Why am I ... why am I standing like this, Mr. Senders?" she asked in a pathetic, child-like voice.

"No questions," he said as he stood from his seat. He grabbed a steel 12" ruler from his top desk drawer then walked around until he was in front of the girl. Without a word he slapped the instrument down hard across her left breast.

"OW!" the girl screamed.

"STAY STILL!" he yelled back. "Return to your position ... do it now!"

She whimpered in pain but struggled to obey. He smiled inwardly at the bright red mark the blow from his ruler had left on her otherwise flawlessly pale breast. He said, "Alright, good. Now listen closely: that blow was just a demonstration. I'm not going to hit you anymore today if you do exactly as I say.

"Now," he continued after reaching out to gently caress the breast he'd harmed, "every day at this time you will come to this office. You come inside, immediately undress, and then assume this exact position. I will then take this ruler and, for each point you are out of first place in the Game, I will strike you. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes," she said. Her chin was trembling like she was ready to start crying but she managed to restrain herself.

"I'm doing this to help you," he said softly. His large hand was engulfing her small breast and the sensation was exquisite. "Consider it a form of extra motivation to stay ahead in the Game. I know the other girls you're going up against and believe me you have your work cut out for you. That's why every night I want you to check the standings on the website Heather told you about. Make sure you're always in the lead. Understand?"

She nodded.

"Good," he said. With that he reached to her hips and hefted her up onto his desk. She yelped at the sudden movement but didn't struggle. Without a word he unzipped his pants and pushed her lovely legs apart.