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Stacy 10
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
STACY'S SENIOR YEAR
(PART TEN)
By Parker
WARNING: This story contains any number of things you may
not want to read about: blackmail, humiliation, non-
consensual sex, D&S and all that sort of bad stuff. This
story is NOT POLITICALLY CORRECT. If you do not enjoy
fantasizing about this kind of activity, STOP READING right
now, before it is too late. Really. You can't say you
weren't warned.
- This is Part Ten of a ten-part story; if you don't know
what that means, you may as well go ahead and read this part
first, 'cause the plot will be way too complicated for you
anyway <grin>.
Copyright 1993. Feel free to distribute this story as
you like, but please use some discretion. As well, I
would appreciate it if you would leave both the text
and the attribution unchanged. Thanks.
=================================================================
In due course, Stacy was elected Homecoming Queen.
It was no great surprise, either to her or to anyone else.
The only possible competition - Ashley Peters - had more or less
dropped out of the race in the last month. Ashley no longer moved
in the kinds of social circles from which Homecoming Queens were
inevitably chosen. Stacy, for all of her sexual activities at
Greenwood over the previous nine months, still enjoyed at least
the appearance of respectability. While the word was out among
most of the guys at school (and more than a few of the girls)
that Stacy was a cocksucking slut, nothing could really be
proved, particularly to those who mattered: the teachers and
parents. And, if Stacy dressed a little more daringly during the
course of her senior year and went out on lots of dates, well...
there was nothing really wrong with that as long as she kept her
marks up in school (and her grades in her final year were the
highest of any student ever to attend Greenwood).
So, a little wildness - a little rebelliousness - was to be
expected and tolerated. She was a teenager, after all.
Indeed, her now well-known willingness to fuck and suck just
about any guy in school actually helped her get elected, in an
odd sort of way. There were six male students on the Grad
Committee, which selected each year's Homecoming Queen. Stacy had
fucked two of them during the course of the year, and - just
before the crucial election - had given each of the six a blowjob
out in the school parking lot.
Sharon's "suggestion". But Stacy didn't really mind too much
at this point. After some of the things that had happened to her
over the course of the school year, giving blowjobs in a parking
lot was almost relaxing. She was more or less used (or at least
resigned) to the taste of cock in her mouth, and only two of the
guys actually made her swallow. She hated that. Against her will,
she found herself almost thankful that they only wanted to fuck
her mouth. Since the incident at the second football party, she
had found herself once again unable to get excited when having
sex.
Just like in the beginning.
The fourth of the six guys she sucked off was the long-
awaited number sixty-five.
She hadn't even realized it at the time. It wasn't until she
made her regular report to Gary that he had pointed this out to
her. Number sixty-five! She was done; finished; no-longer-a-sex-
toy. It was a dazed and confused Stacy who had admitted Gary and
Sharon to her house later that same afternoon. She had been
almost certain that they would not release her as they had
promised, but that seemed to be exactly what was happening. Right
after school, the two blackmailers brought over a small box of
material - four videotapes and a large number of still pictures -
and handed them over without comment. Gary even gave her advance
copies of her final exams. She had almost forgotten about them,
and was certainly not prepared. She was so surprised, she found
herself feeling genuinely thankful.
That feeling, however, only lasted until they had gone and
she had a chance to go through the material. She quickly re-
discovered that familiar sense of loathing for her (former)
tormentors.
Before the hour was up, she had burned the pictures and the
videotape lay in crumpled ribbons at her feet. No one was ever
going to have that kind of power over her again! She had also
ripped off the charm bracelet, but in doing so had involuntarily
sent the shiny "F"s sailing loose across her bedroom. She had
located many of them, but they still turned up once in a while,
in a pillow or under a seat cushion.
No matter.
The remaining two weeks of school shot by. Exams were held
the week of the 21st of June. With the aid of the stolen exam
papers, the first four exams were a breeze. During the fifth
exam, however...
Stacy stared down at the exam paper, eyes widening with
shock. This wasn't the test she had prepared! Desperate, she re-
read the questions, even flipping the paper over the make certain
that she hadn't missed something. Nothing. The questions didn't
even begin to resemble those that Gary had supplied her with.
Gary! This must be his idea of a joke. She felt tears of
rage well up inside her and spill over onto her face, but there
was nothing she could do about it now. Or ever, for that matter.
She knew that she lacked the will to confront Gary with this
latest torment. Besides, what could she do about it? She doubted
that the school authorities would have much sympathy for her
plight.
Feeling sick to her stomach, she got down to work, answering
the questions as best she could. By the end of the exam, she felt
that she had done pretty well, despite her lack of preparation;
the material wasn't that difficult, and she had always considered
herself smarter than most of the other students at Greenwood
anyway...
The final two exams went fine; the supplied exam papers
matched exactly the ones supplied to her by Gary. Stacy was
almost willing to believe that the incident had been an honest
mistake on Gary's part. Almost.
Not that it mattered.
It had now been over a week since she had fucked anybody. A
whole, wonderful week of doing and saying whatever she wanted!
She'd had to refuse quite a number of "offers", but that was
turning out to be almost enjoyable. It gave her no small amount
of satisfaction to let those jerks know exactly what she thought
about them. In fact, she was beginning to feel more and more like
her old self every day.
The same, however, could not be said of Ashley. She was a
new person. Physically, the change was obvious. Gone was the
long, brown hair and girlish clothing. Instead, she now sported a
mannish crew cut, combed back and gelled on top and had gotten
both of her ears triple-pierced. She even wore a shiny, silver
stud in her nose. The clothing was different too. No more dresses
and frilly blouses; she now basically wore only black jeans and
dark tee-shirts. Just the same as Karen.
The changes were more than just physical. After the night of
the football party at BCN, Ashley had quickly drifted away from
her old group of friends and started spending all of her time
with Karen. Eventually, they became inseparable, and could often
be seen holding hands and even - the rumour went - kissing in the
woods behind the school. Ashley soon joined her girlfriend in
social isolation, but she didn't seem to mind much. Neither did
Karen.
On the Monday of the last week of school, Stacy had resolved
herself to attempt to talk to her old friend, but when she tried
to locate her, she quickly found out that Ashley and Karen had
left school a week early (right after exams) to go on a camping
trip together. Ashley's puzzled mother had confided to Stacy that
Ashley had withdrawn her application for a position at a major
university back east and, over the strenuous objections of her
father, had instead decided to attend college at BCN next year.
Her parents were both mystified at this change of plans.
Stacy could have told her why, but kept her silence.
Karen had one more year of highschool in Bakersville...
*****
"Excuse me, Ms. Peabody?"
Stacy stood in front of the secretary's desk, clutching the
pink slip which had informed her of the principal's wish to see
her "immediately". The last week of classes was more of a
formality than anything else - checking in books and materials -
so there had been no problem in leaving the class to answer the
principal's summons. His secretary, a tall, thin women with her
gray hair pulled back in a severe bun at the back of her head,
took the slip and stared at it.
"And you are Stacy Richards?"
The older woman stared suspiciously at the teenager, as if
suspecting her of being an imposter.
'Yeah,' Stacy thought to herself sarcastically, 'like I
really want to be here'.
"Yes," she answered politely. "Dr. Grossman wants to see
me?"
'Probably something about being this year's Homecoming
Queen,' she mused.
"So it would appear." The secretary picked up the phone,
pushed a button and spoke into it.
"A Stacy Richards here to see you, sir." There were a few
moments of silence and then she nodded briskly.
"Go right in; he's expecting you."
Stacy entered the principal's large office. It was set in
the back of the school building, giving it a good view of the
playing fields and then the forest stretching out behind
Greenwood. The principal, Dr. Randall Grossman, sat behind a
large oak desk. He had short, jet black hair which had recently
begun the long retreat up his forehead. His large, dark eyes
peered out from behind his bifocals. Despite this seemingly mild
appearance, the principal had a strong physical presence about
him. He had experienced little or no trouble in intimidating the
students (and staff, for that matter) into compliance with his
policies. As a result of his abilities, Greenwood regularly had
one of the highest academic records in the state.
The students, of course, hated and feared him, and Stacy was
no exception. Grossman did not hesitate to expel a student when
he saw the need and had even, on one memorable and well-
publicized occasion, been instrumental in the criminal conviction
of a student who had been caught with a stolen exam paper. Stacy,
perhaps better than anyone, remembered this.
"Miss Richards." His voice was high; surprisingly
effeminate. "Please... have a seat."
Stacy sat as the school principal opened a white folder and
removed a sheet of paper from it. He glanced at the form and then
looked up at her.
"Stacy," he began, "your marks this year have been the best
we've ever seen from a student at Greenwood. I've personally
never come across such a consistently brilliant student."
"Thank you," Stacy said, breathing a small sigh of relief.
She hadn't been expecting trouble, but you never knew.
"That's why I was so surprised at your History test," the
principal continued.
"What?"
"History 12," he explained, handing the piece of paper over
to her. It was the cover sheet of her exam paper in the History
class; the one Gary had given her the wrong paper for. It had a
"49" marked on top of it in bright red pen.
Forty-nine!
Stacy felt like she was going to throw up. That was a
failing grade. Her hand trembled as she held the sheet. After
everything that had happened to her this year; and now...
"Summer school," Dr. Grossman said, as if reading her mind.
"If you fail a course, you have to make it up over the summer."
He stared at her as she turned pale. "You know that, don't you?"
White as a sheet, Stacy nodded, not trusting herself to
speak.
Summer school!!!
A tiny smile played across Dr. Grossman's mild face as he
noted the girl's reactions. They were perfect; and so was she. A
real find. Ever since Mr. Edgar's tearful confession the previous
week, Grossman had been looking forward to this moment. He had
always fantasized about something like this - getting control of
one of the beautiful young sluts in his school and imposing his
"tastes" on one of them - but he had never dared try it before
now. There was too much at risk: his job, his career, his
reputation; and there was always The Club whenever he felt the
need to indulge himself.
The Club! What wonderful things they could think of to do
with this teenage slut; what wonderful things they WOULD do to
her... if his plan worked.
And it should. It should work. If Edgar's description of
events was at all accurate, there was every reason to believe
that his plan would unfold exactly as he hoped. First, however,
he wanted to test the water. See how she reacted...
Stacy thought quickly. She couldn't go to summer school. She
just couldn't! Taking a deep breath, the teenager regained
control of herself and looked over at the principal. He sat
staring at her appraisingly. Maybe. It worked with Edgar; why not
with...
"Young lady," he said sternly, breaking the silence, "is
there anything you wish to say or... do to convince me to
exercise my discretionary powers in favour of giving you a
passing grade."
He stared at her from behind his bifocals.
"I can do that, you know."
Stacy wasn't stupid. She knew what he was talking about.
"S-sir," she stammered, flushing red. "I'll do whatever I
have to do to pass; whatever you w-want." The blonde teenager
fought down the bile which rose in her lovely throat. She was
supposed to be finished with this bullshit.
Dr. Grossman raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"
"Yes sir," she answered quietly.
They understood each other.
Moving suddenly, the school principal leaned forward in his
chair and punched a button on his intercom.
"Ms. Peabody," he ordered. "Hold all my calls and visitors
for the next two hours. And call Gardner to the office. He can
wait out there." The secretary acknowledged the orders.
Dr. Grossman sat back in his chair and stared over at the
trembling teenager. She looked so delicious, sitting there in her
tight jeans and pink top, her beautiful blonde hair done up in a
long braid.
"OK Stacy," he said. "Here's the deal." He got to his feet
and walked slowly across the room towards her.
"Stand up against the desk."
She did as ordered. The large oak desk came up to just below
her crotch.
"Now, bend over and grab these drawer handles."
Once again, Stacy did as ordered. She was now bent over the
desktop, stretched out with her hands just reaching the two
drawer handles.
"Now," the principal continued, running his gaze
appreciatively up and down her body "if you can hold that
position for the next two hours, you pass. But if, for any
reason, you let go of those handles... well, we'll be seeing you
at summer school. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," Stacy answered quietly. Her fingers curled
tightly around the small metal handles as she prepared herself
for the worst. A tear trickled down one cheek and fell onto the
desktop. She had a pretty good idea of what would soon be
happening...
Harold Gardner was a big man. He was also a black man. He
worked as a janitor and general handyman at Greenwood High, a
position he had held ever since he had been personally hired by
the school principal, Dr. Grossman. He and Grossman went back a
long ways. They had similar tastes in certain... activities, and
both enjoyed membership in an exclusive Club. When Gardner had
lost his job at City Hall because of his criminal record,
Grossman had been happy to take him in and provide him with
employment. No blackmail or anything like that; just one friend
doing another friend a favour.
Gardner looked over at Ms. Peabody and smiled. The secretary
looked over and acknowledged his smile. She too was a personal
appointee of Dr. Grossman and, like Gardner, she was a member of
the Club. Grossman had discussed his plans for Stacy with her a
couple of days earlier and, although she was somewhat concerned
about the risks, she had agreed to go along with it. If it
worked...
A rhythmic slapping sound came from the principal's office.
It had been going on for about twenty minutes now, and showed no
sign of abating. Gardner and Peabody looked at each other and
smirked; they had a pretty good idea of what was happening in
there.
Five minutes later, the sound stopped. The door to the
principal's office opened and Grossman looked out. His face was
flushed red, and damp with sweat.
"Ah, Mr. Gardner," he said. "I wonder if you could help me
with a little 'matter' in here."
"Ah'm sure ah can," Gardner answered, getting to his feet.
"Is there anything I can do," Peabody asked hopefully.
Grossman shook his head.
"I'm afraid I need you out here," he answered. "You have to
hold my calls and keep people out of the office for the next
little while. Later though..."
He smiled promised much as he closed the door.
Ms. Peabody shivered and reached one hand down to massage
her pussy as she imagined what was going on in the office.
Gardner didn't have to imagine any more.
The blonde slut (as he thought of her) was lying across the
oak desk, grasping onto a couple of drawer handles as if her life
depended upon it. The janitor was somewhat surprised to see that
she was not tied down in any way, but said nothing. Grossman knew
what he was doing.
Her jeans and panties were down around her ankles, and her
tight teenage ass was beet red from the spanking the principal
had been administering to her for the last half hour or so.
"Harold," Grossman said, puffing slightly from his
exertions. "Stacy here was just saying how much she fancied
sucking on a black cock while I spanked her." He brought his hand
down sharply on the teenager's quivering ass.
"Isn't that right Miss Richards?"
Stacy flinched and squirmed when he hit her, but her hands
remained tight around the door handles.
"Y-yes sir," she answered, gritting her teeth against the
pain. "I'm afraid I m-might make too much noise while... while
being spanked..."
"And..."
Stacy groaned with humiliation.
"S-sir..." This was addressed to the janitor. "Would you put
your cock in my mouth please? If I have a c-cock to suck on... I
won't make so much n-noise."
The blonde teenager squirmed on the desk as Grossman fondled
her beet red ass.
"Well Harold," the principal asked. "Will you help her out?"
Gardner, his cock already straining against his overalls,
quickly agreed. In a flash, he was seated behind Grossman's desk,
pulling out his large, black cock and feeding it to the crying
teenager as bent over in the desk in front of him. She gagged,
but soon accommodated it in her mouth.
"Suck it, bitch," he ordered, cuffing her on the side of the
face. Obediently, she began to bob her head up and down. Hands
still firmly gripping the drawer handles, she began to slurp
hungrily at his cock. She was good.
"Feels good, you little cocksucker," he complimented her.
"You've sucked plenty of cock before."
Stacy groaned in humiliation as she slid her mouth up and
down on his cock, but didn't pull away.
She just kept sucking.
Even when Grossman continued the spanking, this time using a
wooden yardstick, whacking away at her ass until it was bruised
red and blue. Even when Gardner quickly came, spurting cum into
her sucking mouth and down her throat; she just sucked him dry
and then kept on sucking as he became hard again. Even when
Grossman, panting and gasping from his sadistic exertions,
finally stopped whacking her flaming bottom with the yardstick
and jammed his near-bursting cock first into her dry cunt, and
then into her tight asshole. She just kept sucking and squirming
until finally, both men let loose, flooding her with cum from
both ends.
Even then, she just kept sucking until finally Gardner
pulled out of her mouth.
Grossman, exhausted, leaned against the desk. His face had
turned an alarming shade of red, but there was a vicious smile on
his face. "OK," he said. "That's enough. You can let go now."
Stacy tried, but her hands were so tightly wrapped around
the handles that it took her several seconds to tear them loose.
Groaning with pain and humiliation, she brought one hand up and
wiped ineffectually at the glistening sperm which covered her
lower face. The two men watched as she then bent over and slowly
pulled her panties and then jeans over her shining red ass,
covering the thin trail of sperm which trickled down her thigh.
Finally, she was dressed. She turned her tear-stained face
towards the principal.
"T-the test," she mumbled, dazed with pain.
Grossman reached over, grabbed a pen and wrote a large
"Pass" on top of it.
"Well done, Stacy," he congratulated her, still gasping. "I
just wish all of the students here at Greenwood were as dedicated
as you are."
Stacy ignored the taunt. Moving carefully, she turned and
limped out of the office.
"Jesus," Gardner muttered. "Yer jus' gonna let her walk
outta here like that? What a loss. Everyone in the Club will
wanna hear 'bout..."
"The Club will meet her soon enough," Grossman chuckled,
reaching into a desk drawer and pulling out a cassette tape.
"We're not done with her yet..."
Friday, the second of July.
The last day of school at Greenwood High.
The school seemed quiet, already half-deserted as a good
proportion of the students were skipping the final hours in
favour of starting their summer holiday a day early. Really, the
only reason to attend the last day was to pick up the school
yearbook and say goodbye to one's friends. The yearbook was
mailed out anyway, and, with more kids on the beach than in the
school, there was no real reason to say goodbye.
Stacy Richards walked slowly along the quiet hallway,
rucksack full of gym equipment in one hand and school yearbook in
the other. Still in pain from the severe spanking administered to
her earlier in the week, she would have preferred to have stayed
at home, but her duties as a Rec Instructor had required her
presence at school to check through and store the class sports
equipment. Actually, she would have preferred to be on the beach
with her friends, but her ass was in no shape for a swimsuit.
Maybe in a couple of weeks, but not now.
She walked up to her locker and began to dial the
combination on the lock when she became aware of a giggling
behind her. Turning, she saw three girls, from a lower grade,
looking at her and laughing. One of them was pointing to an open
yearbook.
"What's so funny?" she asked, angry. She wasn't used to
being treated this way by her social inferiors at school.
Unintimidated, the girls just laughed and continued down the
hall.
Puzzled, she watched them go. What was going on? Stacy
looked around. Suddenly paranoid, she noticed that others were
looking at her as well. Some of them were just grinning at her
while others flipped through their yearbooks, laughing and
whispering. The seemingly deserted school hallway now seemed full
of laughing, whispering students. What was happening?
Locker forgotten, Stacy placed her rucksack on the floor and
opened the yearbook. Everything seemed normal as she flipped
quickly through the book; just the typical high school
yearbook...
The page flipped open to the sports section.
"Oh god..." Stacy sagged up against her locker, suddenly
weak.
WOULD STACY RICHARDS PLEASE REPORT
TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE
(the PA system)
Stacy ignored it, staring at the picture which covered half
a page. It was under the heading "Swim Club", but rather than the
entire team, it just displayed Stacy. She was posed in a
swimsuit; one of the too-small swimsuits Sharon had forced her to
wear during the second photo session. The suit had been soaked,
and her nipples clearly showed through the thin fabric of the
suit as she knelt, knees widely spread, licking a large, pink
dildo and staring seductively at the camera.
Gary!!
That bastard. She didn't know how he had managed it, but it
was him alright. Panicking, she began to turn the pages to the
"R" section of the grade twelves. If he had put that picture in
the sports section, what had he...
It was her picture; and she recognized it. She was dressed
in the tight, pink rubber dress Sharon had produced for the first
photo session, leaning forward, hands pushing up her breasts and
a look of passion - no, lust - on her beautiful face. She looked
like a complete slut.
Her stunned gaze slipped down to the text below the picture:
'Girl most likely to... do just about anything.' Under that was a
tiny "happy-face" with the sentence 'I fucked Stacy Richards'
beside it. Horrified, the panicking teenager scanned the
remaining pictures on the page. Under the photograph of Terry
Rhymer was three of the "happy-faces"; she had fucked him three
times during the year. The pages of the book flipped through her
fingers, coming to rest in the grade eight section; there were
rows and rows of "happy-faces" under Tim Myers' picture.
The yearbook slid out of her numb fingers and dropped to the
floor as the full realization of what had happened sunk into her.
During the course of her torment, she had been sustained by one
goal: to keep what was happening secret - to maintain her
position at Greenwood. Now...
There must be a way. Most of the yearbooks hadn't been given
out yet. If she acted quickly, she could stop the mailout and
maybe even get most if not all of the books recalled.
WOULD STACY RICHARDS PLEASE REPORT
TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE!
(the PA system)
She didn't even hear it.
Moving as fast as she could, she raced through the
combination on her locker and jerked it open, determined to stow
the rucksack and get to the principal's office as soon as
possible. As she did so, however, a small stack of material -
glossy magazines - slid out onto the hallway floor. Alarmed,
Stacy reached down and picked one up. It was a porn magazine,
entitled CUMSHOT and it had...
For the second time in as many minutes Stacy felt herself
unable to breath as panic swept through her body. She was on the
cover of the magazine! The full-colour photograph featured a
sharp close-up of her face as she lapped hungrily at a string of
cum running from her mouth to a large cock. Neil's cock, she
realized, recognizing the scene.
"What's this?"
It was another student - Stephanie Bowers; Stacy had stolen
her boyfriend in grade ten. The girl bent over to pick up a
magazine: YOUNG THINGS.
"Give me that," Stacy yelled, inadvertently attracting the
attention of a number of other nearby students. She grabbed the
magazine out of the other girl's hand and tossed it into her
locker. Then she dropped to her knees and gathered up the
remaining publications - TEENAGE SLUTS, CUMHUNGRY - and likewise
put them away.
WOULD STACY RICHARDS PLEASE REPORT
TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE!
(the PA system)
She didn't even notice it.
Stacy slammed the locker shut and locked it. A small crowd
of students had gathered around to see what the fuss was, but the
magazines were safely locked away.
"Fuck off," she cried at them, tears running down her face.
They watched silently as she ran off in the direction of the main
office. She had to get those yearbooks recalled!
Stephanie watched her go, puzzled. Usually Stacy was so
cool; so superior. What had happened to her? She gazed
speculatively at Stacy's locker. It looked like she'd never...
Wait a moment.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small slip of
paper with three numbers on it. She had found it stuffed into her
locker that morning. The numbers looked like combination numbers.
Could it be?
As she moved forward to try it out, she noticed two or three
of the other students in the crowd were also pulling out small
pieces of paper and looking at them. With mounting excitement,
Stephanie began to enter the numbers...
Stacy barged through the door and charged into the school
head office. No one was there. Frantic, she ran behind the
counter and into the administrative section of the school. There
must be someone...
"There you are!"
It was Ms. Peabody. She walked angrily towards the panicked
teenager. "We've been calling you to the office for ten minutes
now. Are you deaf?"
"Ms. Peabody," Stacy began, ignoring the secretary's tirade,
"you've got to recall the yearbooks. Someone has..."
She was cut off as Ms. Peabody grabbed her by the ear and
began dragging her down the hall towards the principal's office.
"Oww..." Stacy stumbled along behind her, trying to pull
away but the pain was too much. Finally, they arrived at the
office. The secretary knocked on the door and then pushed it open
without waiting for an acknowledgment. She used her grip on
Stacy's reddened ear to propel the reluctant teenager into the
office and then entered behind her, closing the door.
Rubbing her ear, Stacy looked around. Dr. Grossman sat
behind the desk, a serious look on his face.
"Stacy," he said, "sit down."
"Sir," Stacy began breathlessly, "The yearbook... you have
to..."
"SIT DOWN!"
Startled, Stacy fell silent and dropped into the seat
directly opposite the desk.
"This is a very serious matter," the principal explained
grimly. "I've just had some important evidence brought to my
attention regarding your academic performance this year."
"S-sir?"
Stacy flinched as she felt a hand at her shoulder. It was
Ms. Peabody, standing behind the chair.
"I found this cassette tape in my mailbox," Grossman
continued, pulling a small tape deck out of his desk. "Listen."
He punched the play button. Stacy listened. Almost at once,
she heard the sound of her own voice:
<"I heard you have a copy of next week's English exam. Is
that true?"
"Why do you want to know?">
Stacy felt an absurd sense of deja vu as she listened in
panicked disbelief.
<"I want a copy of that exam. I need it for this weekend."
"Stacy, you mean you want a copy of a stolen exam paper so
you can cheat on next Monday's English test."
"Yes. I need it to pass the exam... I'll pay money. How
about $100? Please?"
"Alright, I'll sell you the stolen exam paper for $100. Will
that be all, Stacy, or do you want any more exams? I can probably
get whatever you want."
"That sounds great. I'll buy whatever you can get for the
classes I'm in. $100 a paper."
"It's a deal. Meet me tomorrow after school in the
woodworking shop. It should be deserted on Friday afternoon...
Don't forget the money.">
The hissing stopped for a second as the tape fell silent.
Stacy struggled to get to her feet, but the secretary held her
down, her hand firmly pressing down on the teenager's shoulder.
"There's more," she whispered menacingly.
Stacy knew that. She knew exactly what was coming.
Trembling, she listened as the voices began once again:
<"Well," her voice again, "Do you have it?"
"I've got it. One stolen English exam paper for Stacy
Richards. And my money?">
There was a brief moment of silence, and they the sound of
paper being crinkled.
<"It's all there; you don't have to worry about that... now
or in the future."
"Fine, It's all yours."
"Thanks.">
The voices fell silent, and she heard a door slam: the shop
door slamming when she left the room. The hiss slowly faded as
the recording came to halt.
Stacy went limp, yearbook forgotten; magazines forgotten...
Nothing mattered anymore. How could that one incident of cheating
on the math test have brought her to this? She brought her hands
up to cover her face.
The school principal hit the "stop" button. He looked over
at her, struggling to hold back a smile.
"I think you know what this means young lady," he told her.
She knew. Oh... she knew.
Ms. Peabody, still keeping her hand firmly on the blonde
teenager's shoulder, bent down put her lips to Stacy's ear.
"Summerschool," she whispered. Her tongue flicked out and
licked at Stacy's ear.
"I'm sure," Dr. Grossman continued, watching with glee as
his secretary slid her hands down and began mauling the breasts
of the unresisting teenager, "that this summer will be a learning
experience for all of us..."
THE END???
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