A Bet Is a Bet

"We're gonna beat you so bad!" Pepper laughed. She was feeling quite cocky. Her college football team, the Golden Tigers, had mauled their opponents for the last 6 games. As head cheerleader, she had screamed herself almost hoarse by the end of each game. She'd run into the head cheerleader of their traditional rivals, the Silver Mustangs, quite by chance. But she was taking this opportunity to 'lord it over' her opposite number.

"Oh yeah!" Betsy flung back. "Your stupid Tigers will look like pussycats, when we get through with them tomorrow. Our team will stomp all over them, and leave them bawling like babies!" Her face was only inches from Pepper's as she made this declaration.

"You're dreaming, bitch," Pepper spat out. She jerked her head so hard when she did this that her long blonde ponytail practically whipped across Betsy's face. This rivalry had always been heated between the two schools, and therefore especially heated between their cheer-leading squads.

"You're so sure of yourself, blondie!" Betsy hurled back. "Typical blonde thinking – all emotion, no brains!" The raven-haired beauty shoved an errant bang away from her eyes and hissed, "You wanna make a bet about the game's outcome?"

"You know we can't bet money on the game. We'd be tossed off our squads, regardless of who wins," Pepper whispered urgently.

"Who's talking about money, slut? I've got something better in mind," Betsy whispered back.

"Then what? I know we're gonna win," Pepper remained speaking in a whisper, since Betsy's face was so close, but the tone of the whisper was still a heated confrontation.

"Here's the bet," Betsy began, with a leering smile, "but I think you're too much of a goody two shoes to take it – way too immature. If your team wins, I have to give your team's quarterback a blow job, while you watch. But when my team wins, you have to get on your knees and give Mark, our quarterback, a blow job while I watch."

Pepper's breath caught for a moment when she heard this. That would be so humiliating! She wasn't a virgin or anything, but still. Humbling herself like that while Betsy watched and made degrading comments. But her team couldn't lose – she was sure of that, so Betsy'd be the one getting humiliated. And school pride was at stake, too – she just couldn't back down and lose face. "I notice you said 'if' my team wins, and 'when' your team wins, you skank!" she hissed at the dark-haired rival. "OK! You've got a bet! It'll be fun seeing your mouth wrapped around Brian's dick!"

They shook on it, to seal the deal, and stomped away from each other, both very hyped up. That game couldn't end soon enough, now, for either of them.

Game day, they were on opposite sides of the field, singling each other out for insults, and surreptitiously given each other the finger as they urged their respective squads to whip their fans into a frenzy for victory. There'd seldom been games with crowd noise any louder than today. The rivalry wasn't just between the teams, or the cheer-leading squads. The entire student bodies despised the other school with a vengeance. Such are college rivalries, built up over the decades.

The quarterbacks, especially, exhorted their teams to do the utmost. This was obvious by their body language and animated gestures. Perhaps someone had tipped them off about the cheerleaders' bet, and the potential prize for the winner. They certainly spent more than the usual amount of time glancing at both Pepper and Betsy, watching them shake and bounce in their skimpy cheer-leading outfits.

By the fourth quarter, due to the inevitable fumbles, interceptions, safeties, and attempting two point conversions after touchdowns, the score stood at Silver Mustangs 45, and Golden Tigers 44! Pepper's heart seemed to be in her throat, and she was hyperventilating with anxiety. The Silver Mustangs had the ball, and with two minutes remaining in the game, they were driving down the field. They'd reached the Tiger 23 yard line, and with a fourth and 3, their coach decided to go for it. Taking a field goal would not put the game out of reach.

The ball was snapped, and it hit the quarterback's hands wrong, and bounced free. Pepper shouted with relief as the Tigers recovered the fumble. Masterfully, the Tiger quarterback drove his team toward the Mustang goal line, keeping an eye on the clock. With each snap, the Tigers struggled toward the goal, making certain to be driven out of bounds to stop the clock. Used carefully, passes either moved them closer, or, being incomplete, also stopped the clock.

With three seconds remaining, the Tigers were stopped at the Mustang's 17 yard line, and quickly called their final timeout. Pepper was screaming, "Field goal! Field goal!" A field goal would win it. The distance was a simple chip shot for their kicker, although the ball being set near the hash mark made it a bad angle. The Tigers set, snapped, and the kick was up. Pepper held her breath as the ball sailed... and... hit the upright! No good! Game over, and the Silver Mustangs had won!

Pepper was despondent. More than usual. Any loss was a heartbreak, and losing to their bitter rivals doubly so. But she'd also lost the bet, and Betsy came romping over to her during the post-game celebration on field to remind her of that fact. "You lost! You lost!" Betsy crowed happily.

Pepper's face took on the red color of an extremely ripe tomato. So much blood flooded her face and neck that the heat might have been felt a yard away. "W...w... we were just kidding about that bet, right?" she stammered. "I mean, it was just a joke, right?"

"Hell no, it wasn't!" Betsy countered. "We shook on it and everything. You lost, fair and square, and it's 'pay up' time for you. A bet is a bet. Mark worked hard for his reward, and knowing that you now owe him a blow job is probably making him harder. After all this hoopla dies down, he'll meet us in the field house. It'll be deserted as all the students race for town to celebrate. Come on. We'll go there and wait for him."

Betsy took Pepper by her hand, and started leading the way. Pepper walked with dragging, leaden feet. Giving Mark a blow job? Down on her knees, with Betsy watching? Bet or no bet... Pepper... couldn't. She couldn't do it. She had to get away. There was no one near them, so she yanked her hand free from Betsy's and ran!

Surprisingly, Betsy didn't yell, or give chase. She just shook her head, sadly, and watched Pepper disappearing around a corner. "So predictable," she mumbled. "I'd have given Brian the best head of his life, if I'd lost. A bet is a bet, after all. Oh well." She began walking toward the team's locker room, to spread the word.

Pepper, fleeing, looked back over her shoulder, to see if Betsy was in hot pursuit. Not looking where she was going, she ran into a wall of flesh! A wall that wrapped arms around her, pressing her own arms behind her back. Stunned, she was looking up into the face of one of the Silver Mustang linesmen, as she heard a 'zzzzzztt' sound as something pressed her wrists together. As she tugged at what was a zip tie at her wrists, her mouth formed into an 'O' of surprise and was immediately filled as a hand pressed a soft material inside. And then something was snugged at the back of her head. She was gagged! It was a very simple gag, with a balled up handkerchief stuffed into the center of a silk stocking. Very simple, and yet very effective. Pepper's attempt to scream came out as a muted, garbled sound.

The first linesman hoisted Pepper easily over his broad shoulder, and began ambling to the locker room. Draped over the guy's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, Pepper was staring at the ground at the back of his heels. If she lifted her head, she saw the second guy, the one that obviously had applied the zip tie and gagged her, following them with a grin on his face. She wanted to ask them what they thought they were doing, but she was well aware that she'd lost the bet. This had to have something to do with that.

They carried her into the Mustang locker room, which seemed to be a sea of bodies. There were hoots and catcalls as she was unceremoniously dumped onto one of the benches, surrounded by the players of the opposing team, a couple of whom held her into place. Betsy shoved her way through them and into view. "Gotcha!" she chortled. "I thought you might try to run. There were only two directions you could've bolted, so we had a pair of guys waiting in both places. I've texted the other two to join us."

Two towering hunks appeared, and dropped the spare zip tie and stocking gag on the locker floor. "How do you like having my stocking in your mouth, bitch?" Betsy asked. "I sacrificed a pair of perfectly good stockings, you know. But I think it'll be worth it." She gestured around the room. "I bet you wish you'd gone quietly to the field house, where it would've been just you, me and Mark. You'd have stayed dressed, knelt down, sucked him off, and that would've been the end of it. But no, you had to renege on our bet. You'd prefer to be back at the field house now, wouldn't you?"

Pepper's eyes darted around the room, seeing all the leering faces, with their predatory smiles. The players had removed their uniforms, and were clad only in jock straps with cups, and the occasional padding on an arm or a leg. Betsy's cheerleaders, mingled among the players, were still dressed in their skimpy outfits. She looked back at Betsy, and nodded, pleading with her eyes. She tried to utter, "Yes. Yes. I'll do it. Take me there, please." But the gag turned her words into unintelligible sounds.

"Well, that's just too bad," Betsy informed her, correctly interpreting Pepper's nodding, if not her words. "You forfeited that chance when you tried to run away, rather than honoring our deal. In fact, you also forfeited your clothes, as well." Turning to her cheerleaders, she demanded, "Ladies, help her get undressed." To the two players nearest Pepper, she said, "Guys, cut the zip tie. We need her arms free to undress her. I don't want her clothes damaged, after all. But hold onto her, until we get her stripped and secured."

Pepper felt the zip tie holding her wrists together part, and strong hands seizing her arms and wrists. As she started to struggle, other huge hands grabbed her hips, pinning her in place. The cheerleaders had surged forward, and were gleefully peeling her clothes off. Her skirt and panties were yanked down, giving her the impulse to start kicking. Masculine hands took charge of her ankles, anchoring her in place as shoes and socks were removed. Female hands hooked under her top and lifted, pulling the scanty garment upward. The guys holding her arms lifted them, assisting the removal of that piece of clothing. All that was left was Pepper's bra. Betsy stepped up, practically tit to tit, reached behind the struggling woman, and unhooked the bra, whisking it away.

Naked as the day she was born, Pepper blushed fiercely as the onlookers laughed at her discomfiture. She wriggled and squirmed, trying to cover herself, and made garbled sounds of protest. She only remained standing briefly, though. Lots of hands grasped her exposed flesh, lifting her, tilting her, and lowering her to rest on her back on a nearby bench. Ropes appeared from somewhere, and Pepper was manually held in place as the ropes began snugging against her skin.

When the tying was complete, Pepper was on the bench face up, with her arms stretched up above her head, and her thighs were parted, with her legs secured down near the floor by the other end of the bench. People stepped back. Somehow, this act of clearing a space around her emphasized her nudity – made her much more aware of it, and the fact that she was on display for everyone. She made an unhappy, whimpering sound through the gag, and squirmed.

Betsy walked up. "I guess I'll shake your pom-poms for the crowd," she chuckled. Grabbing Pepper's breasts, she flipped them side to side, making them wobble. Everyone in the room seemed to burst into laughter, watching. Pepper turned scarlet, mortified. But that wasn't the worst. "Tom, come over here," Betsy beckoned. The Mustang kicker came forward. "You're pre-med," Betsy stated. "Come down here and look. Is she a virgin?"

Tom straddled the end of the bench and bent forward, bringing his face near Pepper's pelvis. Pepper had raised her head, eyes bulging with incredulity, as Tom grasped her labia and parted them. Pepper was shaking her head 'no' meaning 'stop' as Tom peered inside her. "No evidence of a hymen," Tom said loudly. "She's also shaking her head no, confirming that she's not a virgin." Pepper made an exasperated snort through her nose, and rested her head back on the bench, her mortification kicked up several notches. Tom, still peering inside her, went on to say, "In fact, from the looks of this vagina, I'd estimate that it's seen a lot of sexual activity." The room erupted in more catcalls.

When things quieted enough so she could be heard, Betsy said, "I guess we're not gonna see her deflowered, then. But that cunt of hers is going to see a lot more sexual activity before this day is through."

Pepper's head flew up again, and the sound she made, even though gagged, was clearly her questioning Betsy, yelling, "What?!?"

Betsy looked her in the eye. "That's right, slut. You could've gotten off easy – a simple blow job. But no, you thought yourself too good for that. Well, we're going to take your ego down several pegs, bitch. You're gonna be our sexual plaything now. Mark, you get to use her first. Ladies, give Mark a hand and help prepare this bitch for him."

The cheerleaders stripped off their minuscule outfits and rushed forward naked, and an instant later, Pepper felt their hands all over her. They were stroking her arms and legs, kissing her neck, cupping her tits, and thumbing her nipples. Those nipples were responding, rising up, as other hands rubbed her tummy and mound. The cheerleaders were even stroking her warm flesh with their own tits, which Pepper couldn't help but find exciting. Soft hands were caressing her inner thighs, maddeningly close to her sex, but not quite touching it. Meanwhile, the quarterback, Mark, had stripped naked, and one cheerleader was mouthing and pumping his dick, sometimes wrapping her tits around it, bringing it to full erection. Other players were muttering how lucky he was.

Pepper mentally felt humiliated, tied and being fondled by all these women as the football players watched and made rude comments about her body and her character. She writhed and struggled, but the ropes held her securely. Protesting through the gag wasn't effective, either. People just made fun of the noises she was making. The trouble was, as degrading as being on display like this was, her body was reacting to the insistent soft caresses. She tried to ignore how good it felt to have all those women touching her, caressing her, treating her entire body as the huge, wonderful erogenous zone that it was. Her cunt responded in its natural manner. She started lubricating.

The woman whose hands were at her inner thighs exclaimed, "Whooohooo! Look how wet this bitch is becoming!" As people shuffled around for a better angle, slender fingers again opened Pepper's labia, and her cunt juices, which had been seeping against that labial barrier, spilled out, drizzling and pooling on the bench between her thighs.

Now naked herself, Betsy, who was orchestrating this event, told Mark, "She's ready. Take her now."

With a huge predatory grin on his face, Mark straddled the bench. One cheerleader held Pepper's cunt lips open, while another cheerleader aimed Mark's cock at the pink, glistening, target – her cunt hole. That opening almost looked like it was winking at the cock, dilating and contracting slowly. Mark's smooth, pink glans touched the wet entrance, and sank inward. Pepper moaned a long moan through her gag, her eyes closing.

"My god, she's so wet!" Mark cried out. An appreciative murmur rippled through the crowd. He leaned over, gripping Pepper's tits as he began fucking her. There was a collective gasp from the onlookers, because, tied as she was, Pepper was actually lifting her hips up from the bench! Her traitorous body was reacting instinctively, fucking Mark back! Pepper wasn't looking – her eyes were still tightly closed – she was completely focused on the data flooding her brain from all the hands caressing her, plus the lovely thrusting sensations occurring at her cunt. She vaguely heard someone say 'what a fucking whore' but she didn't care. Tied as she was, helpless as she was, all she could do was submit to those feelings of pleasure.

"She's sure a hot piece of ass," Mark announced. Pulling his dick from her cunt, he called out, "Next!"

Pepper's eyes flew open with shock. "Next?" her brain echoed. She was half horrified as another naked Mustang player straddled her thighs and shoved his cock hard into her sopping pussy. "Did Mark cum in me?" she wondered. "I didn't feel his cock twitch or spew. And why is this new guy fucking me?" Her thoughts spun away as once again her hips started bucking up into the thrusts. Pepper concentrated on the delightful feelings of her cunt sheathing and squeezing that lusty piece of man flesh. Either consciously or subconsciously, she was trying to climax.

Unfortunately, that player also pulled out too soon. Fortunately, another took his place. "What is it with these guys?" she thought. "They're fucking me almost ritually. I don't think that guy came inside me, either! They're not staying long enough for me to cum – is this torture?" If it was torture, it was the most arousing one she could imagine. Player after player fucked her – she was losing count, but there were about sixty players that had suited up for this game. Were they all here?

Things became almost surreal as the cheerleaders began to make up cheers, aimed at the football players as those men each used Pepper's pussy as their fuck hole. Cheers of 'screw the bitch, screw the bitch' and 'fuck that whore, fuck that whore' alternated with the strange chant – 'don't cum in her, don't cum in her' – which may have explained why they pulled out so abruptly, making room for the next guy.

Pepper didn't care about those naughty cheers, because each fucking actually brought her closer to her own orgasm, in tiny increments. Actually not cumming might be a blessing. If all sixty players each brought her to an orgasm, her exhausted body might not be able to handle that many convulsions. It could prove fatal. So it was lucky that Pepper was just kept simmering for maybe an hour. Lucky, but frustrating. Soon, she began to think she might go mad if she wasn't allowed to cum.

However, the cheerleaders didn't want to be left out entirely. They started sucking on Pepper's tits. Sucking, licking, kissing, and gently nibbling her nipples, areolae, and the entire surface of her lovely mammary glands. Pepper couldn't hold back when they started that. "Oh, look!" one of the women chortled. "The bitch is cumming!"

"Fuck! She sure is!" the guy fucking her at that moment groaned. "It feels like her cunt is chewing on my dick! I gotta stop! Next!" He pulled out and the next waiting guy plunged his cock into the churning inferno of Pepper's still convulsing tunnel.

Even though she was being fucked again, Pepper managed to get her breathing back under control, the air whistling in and out of her nose, since her mouth was gagged. Betsy heard that sound, and decided to experiment. She untied the stocking from behind Pepper's head and removed the gag from the tied woman's mouth, warning her, "If you scream for help or anything, this gag goes right back in. Understand?"

Pepper was gratefully working her jaw muscles, which were a little sore from being held in place by the gag, and she whispered, "Yes, I understand," in response. Secretly, she'd lost the desire to call for help, since she was hungering for another orgasm. Once again, she began lifting and lowering her cunt, matching the rhythm of the guy currently screwing her. Some of them had pumped fast, others had pumped slowly, depending on their style. They were all thrilled to 'get a piece' of the rival school's head cheerleader. Anyone could tell that from the looks on their faces.