The Cheerleader's Leader

Sandy's mouth was dry as the coach closed the door of his office, but he smiled at her encouragingly, and she relaxed a little.

"I got your letter, Sandy," he said. "I understand your concern, and I'll certainly have a word with the guys on the squad."

"Thanks, Coach," she replied, then hesitated a little before going on. "But I feel I really must get through to you that we could have a real problem on our hands. This really has gone beyond what you might think of as 'high jinks' on the part of the guys - some of the cheerleaders are really scared."

"Look, Sandy," said the coach, his brow furrowed. "I've got one major priority this year - to win the State Championship for the third season running. We've got three stand-out performers on the team and I need all three of them to play every game if we're to win that title again."

"And two of them figure in nearly every serious complaint I've had," rejoined Sandy.

"Yeah," he agreed, reluctantly. "Well, Joe and Tommy - they're a coupla lively guys - specially Joe! For Chrissake, Sandy, they're practically men. It's only natural they're interested in .... you know. And let's face it, you girls, in your short skirts an' all - well, you can't complain if the guys get .... well, a bit aggressive from time to time."

"That doesn't give them the right to touch us in ..... places we don't want them to," retorted Sandy, angrily. She could feel her cheeks burning as her anger rose, and her voice became shrill.

"Hey," he smiled. "Some of them don't seem to mind too much. I saw Joe on the back seat of the coach with Karen after the last away tie - she wasn't complaining, and I wouldn't like to say where Joe's hands were."

Sandy's throat tightened at the mention of Karen. It was an open secret that she was Joe's 'steady lay' and Sandy wished she wasn't on the cheerleading squad. She was the least hard-working of all of them and Sandy was sure she had only joined so that she could parade her 'charms' to as many people as possible.

"Well, anyway, Coach," she said, biting back her anger, "if you can't get them to cut it out, I'll have to go to the Principal and make a formal complaint."

"Yeah, okay, Sandy," he replied. "Just leave it with me."

As she left the office, Sandy knew she had achieved precisely nothing. The dim-witted coach would have a 'quiet chat' interspersed with a few near the knuckle jokes, and things would go on as before.

She recalled the panicky expression on Ruth's face as she had stumbled off the coach from the training-ground three days earlier and her heart sank.

"What's wrong?” she had asked the little dark-haired girl, and had thought she was about to burst into tears. She would say nothing until they were in Sandy's bedroom, with the door tightly closed - then she opened up.

"I was sitting at the front of the coach when we drew up at the school yard," Ruth explained, "but the guys said the door was jammed at that end, and I'd have to go out the back. So the guys at the front of the coach stood back to let me walk back down the aisle but, when I got a little way down, they were all standing up, all over the bus, and I was hemmed in amongst them."

"Then someone touched the inside of the top of my leg. It was a shock, and I - well, I guess, I screamed a little. The guys laughed and the hand came back, but this time it grabbed me, and squeezed, then started sliding ... up. You know?"

Her mouth suddenly dry, Sandy nodded. "Go on," she said, in a low voice, her mind full of images of - inevitably - herself, in Ruth's helpless situation.

"Well, I grabbed the hand, but then there was another one - and another, and they were all laughing. I started pushing desperately down the aisle and they sort of let me keep moving, but only very slowly and, all the time, their hands kept coming at me. They touched my panties - front and back - and one tried to pull them down! And they were on my ... my chest, too. Pushing and .. and squeezing and making comments."

By now, tears had welled up and were rolling down Ruth's cheeks, and Sandy put an arm round her, instinctively. Ruth looked at her, gratefully, and held Sandy's hand.

"Did they .... do any more?" Sandy had asked, and Ruth shook her head. "No," she replied, shakily. "I got to the back door and jumped out, and then I saw you!"

Since then, Sandy had asked around the girls and had uncovered at least half a dozen stories of similar instances. As their leader, she knew she had to battle on their behalf, hence her report, and abortive visit, to the football coach that afternoon, but she felt the trouble was only beginning ...................................

"We gotta teach that tightass, Sandy, a lesson!" Joe McQuire's handsome face was twisted in a snarling leer. He was still burning with suppressed rage after his confidential chat with the coach. Tommy seemed dubious. "Dontcha think we'd better go easy for a bit, Joe? I mean, he might dump us off the team, or suspend us, or something."

"Oh, use your head, dummy," sneered Joe. "He drops us - he loses the title. He's on a $10,000 bonus to win that title. Hell'll freeze over before he dumps you and me - well, me anyway. No, I'm gonna sort that frigid little bitch out - and you and Karen are gonna help me."

Tommy felt a flutter in his guts as he eyed Joe's determined face. "What can Karen do?" he asked.

"She can set her up - somewhere quiet where we can have a private little chat. I think I know what's wrong with Sandy Jackson .......... "

****************************************

Karen watched covertly as the dressing-room slowly emptied, but continued to engage Sandy in conversation. God, how she hated the stuck-up bitch! Asking her advice - on math, of all things! - was about as much as she could take. It was only the thought of Joe sorting her out good and proper which kept her going, feigning interest in Sandy's condescending replies to her guileless questions.

Now, only Ruth was hanging around. "I'll walk you home," she called to Sandy as she left.

"O.K.", called Sandy. "I'll see you in a couple of minutes."

"I'll have to go now," she said to Karen, starting to pack her gym clothes in a hold-all. "I hope that helped."

"Yeah, thanks a lot," Karen flung over her shoulder as she hurried from the room, into the corridor. She knocked softly on the door of the boys' changing-room. It opened, and Joe looked out.

"O.K.?" he asked. Karen nodded, her breathing tight. He leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. His tongue darted inside her lips and his hand grabbed her full, soft breast, making her gasp. Looking over his shoulder, she met Tommy's gaze and lowered her eyelids. Wouldn't you just like to? she thought. You will, too, if Joe has his way - you on one, him on the other! She felt the familiar flutter in her insides.

But Joe and Tommy were past her and making for the door of the girls' changing-room ......

Karen stood, irresolute, in the corridor as the boys slipped in through the door, then, her curiosity getting the better of her, she followed them, soundlessly. She could see Joe and Tommy creeping along the rows of lockers, then Joe put his hand out and stopped Tommy. He jerked his head, then the pair of them disappeared into the row.

Karen hurried after them and peered round the end locker.

Sandy, dressed in T-shirt and jeans, was bending over the bench, packing her sports bag, her blonde hair still damp from the shower. Karen watched, her heart beating rapidly, as the two boys, Joe in the lead, crept up behind her.

As he reached the engrossed girl, Joe whispered - "Hi, frigid!" and placed his hand, confidently, on her bottom. She gasped, and leapt upright, knocking her knee on the bench. She whirled round to face the boys, her face white with rage.

"You keep your hands off me!" she hissed. "You shouldn't even be in here!"

"So, what you gonna do about it?" sneered Joe. "They've all gone home. 'Sides, we need to talk."

"I've nothing to say to you, you creep!” retorted Sandy, half-turning to pick up her bag, but Joe pushed it along the bench and grabbed her arm, whirling her round to face him.

She staggered back against the bench and Joe caught her wrists.

"Hey, man," he said to Tommy. "Hold her arms behind her."

"Well, I dunno," replied his friend. "Do it!" rapped Joe, and Tommy hesitantly took hold of the struggling girl's wrists and manoeuvred himself behind her, holding her arms down behind her back.

Karen felt her excitement rise as she watched Sandy struggle in Tommy's grip. With her arms pulled down behind her back, her shoulders were straight and the shape of her breasts was clearly outlined against the material of her T-shirt.

Joe stood back and insolently looked the girl up and down. He licked his lips reflectively, then his hands reached out and casually pulled the T-shirt out of her jeans.

"Don't you dare touch me," breathed Sandy, but her voice now held more of apprehension than anger, and Joe just leered, then slid his hands under the T-shirt to touch the bare skin of her midriff.

Karen waited for him to start warning Sandy about going to the coach again, but he remained silent, a curious, fixed expression on his face. Karen felt a little stir of fear. Joe sometimes looked like that with her - always before he started acting, or talking, real 'dirty' - like when he talked about stripping her naked in front of Tommy, or the rest of the guys on the squad, or passing her round them all for a feel........

His hands tracing little circles on the trembling girl's skin, Joe suddenly laughed. "Hey, Tom," he said. "Is she feeling your dick behind there?"

Tommy reddened, then shook his head.

"Is it hard?" persisted Joe, and Tommy muttered, "Hey, come on, man."

"Come on!" sneered Joe. "Give her a feel of it! After all," he added, softly, "it's only fair."

As he spoke, his right hand dropped between the astonished girl's thighs and squeezed her crotch through her jeans.

Sandy screamed, and writhed frantically, but Joe's hand remained clamped between her wriggling thighs. As she continued to scream loudly, however, a look of irritation crossed his face and he dragged a filthy handkerchief out of his pocket and stuffed it in her mouth.

"Man, that's better," he breathed, as the screaming suddenly stopped, then, looking around the lockers, picked up a discarded running-vest and, pushing Tommy aside, grabbed the girl's wrists and tied them in front of her. Then, with a violent upward jerk, he pulled her arms up and hooked the vest over a projection on the top of the end locker so that she stood, arms upraised, her back to the cold metal.

Sandy was fully stretched, her heels just touching the floor, her T-shirt pulled up to show an inch or so of her flat stomach over the belt of her jeans. Her brown eyes, which contrasted so spectacularly with her honey-blonde hair, were frightened and pleading as she writhed fruitlessly against the restriction on her slender wrists.

Watching breathlessly, Karen felt the pit of her stomach liquefy with a combination of fear and stimulation. For the first time, she realised that Joe was not going to settle for just talking Sandy into ceasing her complaints. She knew that look in Joe's eyes - knew it only too well - and could almost find it in her to feel sorry for the helpless girl. Almost - but not quite.

Karen's cheeks reddened as she recalled Sandy's horrified rejection of Karen's attempt to share a bunk with her one night at summer camp the previous July. Three or four of the girls had shared a couple of bottles of wine on a balmy evening round an open fire - along with some pretty intimate conversation, which had stimulated Karen enormously. Sandy had partaken of very little wine, nor had she disclosed any intimate secrets about herself, but Karen, watching her closely, and ever more affectionately, thought she could discern a mounting excitement beneath the apparent cool blonde detachment.

When, at last, they returned to the very basic two-girl bedroom they had been allocated to share together, Karen was in a ferment of anticipation, convinced that she had detected an awareness from the other girl of a sexual attraction between them, which undressing together for bed, with appropriately-timed comments, would surely lead to a night of mutually-satisfying physical exploration, stimulation and, eventually, satisfaction.

Once the bedroom door was closed, Karen lost no time in shedding her T-shirt and brassiere then, turning to face Sandy, cupped her full breasts in her hands and said - "It's such a relief to get that bra off - my nips got so hard out there, they were hurting."

Sandy, however, merely smiled in an absent sort of way and picked up her washbag and nightdress, preparatory to going to the bathroom. Suddenly, Karen realised that Sandy was going to undress and change for bed in the bathroom and grabbed her own washbag. "Wait up," she said. "I'll come with you."

"Aren't you going to . . .?" - Sandy nodded, slightly embarrassed, towards Karen's exposed breasts. "Oh, no!" laughed Karen. "We're all girls here!" Then, pressing what she saw as her advantage, she suggested - "You take yours off, too!"

"I don't think so," responded Sandy. "After all, the boys are in the block opposite and the corridor windows aren't covered."

"So, give them a thrill!" said Karen. "Imagine how they'd beat themselves off if they got a sneaky look at our tits! Joe told me they're always trying to see into the showers when we're in there, after cheerleading practice."

Sandy stopped, her hand on the doorknob, her face showing concern. "Do they?"

"You bet!" rejoined Karen. "What do you think?"

"But - do they ever - succeed? Have they ever . . .?"

"They can only see one corner - over at the far end."

"But that's where Ruth and Gillian always go," exclaimed Sandy, horrified.

"Yeah," agreed Karen, casually. "They like Ruth's chubby little tits and Gillian's ginger bush, but Joe's always at me to get some of the others over there, for a bit of variety!"

Sandy opened her mouth to say something else, then turned and left the room. Karen decided not to follow her, but stripped off the rest of her clothes and was cleaning her teeth at the washbasin when Sandy returned. Karen was aware of Sandy's momentary hesitation at the door when confronted with a rear view of Karen, totally naked, and she turned round as Sandy stepped inside.

Involuntarily, Sandy's eyes dropped to the dark thatch between Karen's thighs, and Karen smiled in satisfaction. It was not only Gillian's copper bush that Joe admired and, clearly, Karen's black one had attractions for her roommate, as well.

Sandy's nightdress came down to mid-thigh and, suddenly, Karen reached forward and lifted the hem. Sandy jumped back and pushed Karen's hand away, but not before Karen had seen the golden triangle at the apex of Sandy's slim thighs.

"Oh, come on!" said Karen. "I showed you mine - you show me yours! Hey - come and feel it! You can feel my tits as well - oh, come on - I'm feeling really horny!"

The frustration and rage of that night came back to Karen with awful clarity - the total contempt Sandy had shown as she spurned the other girl's advances, and Karen's vengeful fantasies as she lay, alone, in her bed in the dark. She hadn't slept until, at last, her flying fingers had brought her to climax, accompanied by a mental scenario where a naked, pleading Sandy had rolled around in the dust at her feet, manipulating a large green banana between her elegant, but widespread, thighs.

And now she was about to see the ice maiden humiliated, at last. Momentarily, she forgot the need to conceal herself in her desire not to miss any of the "action". She leaned out a little too far, and Tommy spotted her.

"Karen?" he blurted out, and Joe whirled round, his brow darkening. Karen stood stockstill, terrified. There was a momentary silence, then Joe relaxed, with a grin.

"Hey, baby," he said. "You're just in time! Come here!"

Hesitantly, she walked towards him as he opened his arms for her. He folded them round her and nuzzled her neck, his hands fondling her bottom through her regulation school skirt. Then he turned her round to face away from him and placed her hands behind his hips before blatantly squeezing her breasts, through her blouse, in full view of Tommy and Sandy.

Sandy snatched her eyes away, but Tommy stared, hungrily, as Joe's fingers kneaded the soft mounds proprietorially.

Karen closed her eyes and leaned back on Joe, pulling his hips towards her, feeling his hard penis up against her buttocks. Then his hands left her breasts and took her hands again and, before she knew what was happening, Joe was wrapping the belt from his jeans round her wrists.

Too late, she tried to struggle. The belt bit into her wrists and Joe hooked it up onto the projection on the locker opposite the one to which Sandy was imprisoned.

Joe stood back and smiled at Tommy. "You've always wanted her tits, haven't you, man? Well, I'm going to be busy for a while, so - be my guest!"

Karen began to protest, but Joe silenced her with a glare, then turned to Tommy again.

"Go on, boy - now's your chance! Get them tits out and have yourself a play. She wants you to, really."

Her legs shaking, Karen watched as Tommy fought with his innate decency and tried to summon up the courage to defy both Joe, and his baser instincts. As usual, he lost, and Joe watched with interest as his hands reached for Karen's blouse.

As they reached her top button, however, he groaned and, instead, cupped the full mounds of her breasts and squeezed them, again and again. "Oh, man," he breathed, then his fingers flew to her blouse buttons and hastily undid them, pulling her blouse out of her skirt at the same time.

Then his hands slipped under the freed blouse and caressed the full flesh of her upper body, lingering on her waist and shoulders, his eyes, however, fixed on the deep cleavage between the cups of her pristine white brassiere. His hands then gripped the back of her bra and groped for the clip.

"Try the front, man," drawled Joe. "She don't have back-fastening ones - I don't like 'em."

Tommy gave a weak laugh and moved his fingers to the front. As she felt them scrabble round her bra-fastenings, Karen essayed one more protest. Joe clamped his hand round her mouth and gave her a warning stare. At the same moment, Karen felt her bra fall apart and then Tommy's hands were covering her naked breasts, his thumbs rasping across her erect nipples.

She gasped, then gasped again as Joe's hand flew up her skirt, feeling between her legs. He chuckled as his fingers encountered the damp gusset of her panties, and deftly slipped his middle finger under the material and along her slippery, swollen vagina.

"Hey, Tom," he exulted. "Have a feel down here - I told you she was always ready!"

As Tommy's right hand dropped from Karen's firm breast, down between her unprotected legs, Joe turned away from her and faced Sandy again.

"Guess you must be a mite juiced up too, honey," he leered, stopping in front of her and gazing into her frightened eyes as his hands unfastened the belt of her jeans. Tears brimmed over her eyelids as he snapped the catch at the top of her jeans and drew down the zip.

Almost casually, he slid his hand down the opened front, onto her soft lower belly, feeling the warmth through the tips of his fingers. His fingers travelled over the shiny material of her brief panties until, reaching the junction of her trembling thighs, his middle finger rubbed gently against the gusset.

She closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks, as she felt his finger press against her lubricated vaginal lips, feeling the warm damp herself, and furious with her body for betraying her thus.