Humiliated and Raped 18 Year-Old Cheerleader with Great, Curvy Body PART ONE

[littlerapedgirl]

This is my first story. I know it's slow to start and long, but I hope you'll like all the juicy details. It takes a while for a girl to get so completely humilated, like I was. Feedback and continuation is very appreciated:

I don't remember what happened after the third time I passed out ... help me fill in the blanks, please .

Toward the end of senior year of high school (I was 18, y'all), I was kept and raped for several days by my manager at the AM/PM, and his friends. It was my last year on the cheerleading team, and I was late for my 6p.m. - 1 a.m. shift because we were practicing a big stunt where I jump, bounce, turn, and land in a handstand in the splits. It was my fourth year on cheer, and I could tell by now that all the dads were watching not for the choreography, but for the way our breasts would jiggle in our little tank tops, or the way that our splits would give them a wide open beaver shot. I liked the power and attention, how my 34D's, tight, curvy bottom, and smooth thighs made grown men act like quivering little boys. But except for cheer, I tried not to egg the boys on. I dressed more for fashion than sexiness, and was, believe it or not, waiting until I was in love to do it. Not that I hand't given a boy a handjob or two, and done some seriously heavy petting.

The day manager at AM/PM was this total lech, Larry, who was scruffy and at least 40, and constantly leering, even though I was completely covered up. He also was always asking me to get things from high shelves or do things where I would have to bend over. Fortunately, his and my shift only overlapped for an hour, and then there was this 60 year-old woman who came on who just sat in the back and read magazines, so the rest of the night was usually chill.

On this day, like I said, I was late because practice went until, like 5:55, so my boyfriend drove me high-speed to the store, and as we were pulling up, at ten after six, I realized my AM/PM uniform was at home. Shit! I ran in to the store, my hair in ponytails, and my teeny skirt swaying. I knew Larry would be a creep. Immediately he was on my case for being late. Breathless, my chest heaving up and down, I asked him if he could hang on 10 more minutes while we speeded home to get my uniform and came right back.

"Absolutely not," he said. "You are late enough as it is young lady. You'll have to work in that." He tossed me an AM/PM shirt. "Here, you can wear that over your ... your little bra," he said, referring to my cheerleading mini-tank. I ran back out to tell my boyfriend to go home, and ran back in, unbuttoning the shirt as I went to punch in. Extra-small! There was no way this was going to fit across my breasts. I put the shirt on and tried to button in. The first two buttons worked, but they only served to pull my breasts together and create more cleavage coming out of the top. It buttoned tight at my waist, and then there was just my pleated mini-skirt below that. I could not possibly work for seven hours looking like such a tart! At least he would be gone in forty-five minutes, and Martha would probably let me go home and change.

Larry went into the back room just after I clocked in, brushing against my bottom on the way in. "Careful where you're going," he barked. I apologized and went out to work the register. Five minutes later he came out and said he just talked to Martha and she would be taking the night off, and he would cover for her. He told me because it was just the two of us, we'd have to work extra hard. I was nervous, not looking forward to a night of gross leering and possibly being along with him in the back room. I thought about calling in sick, but my parents were out of town and my boyfriend, my only ride, was out for the evening with his buddies.

I decided I would just ignore his advances and make the best of it. It began right away. He came behind the counter and looked me up and down, as if I were a prize pig he were buying.

"Now I know the educational system ain't what it used to be, but do you really think that's an appropriate outfit for a workplace, girly?" he said.

I was furious, and humiliated. He knew I'd ask to change! He gave me the teeny shirt! But still, I wanted to try to be a good employee. "No sir," I said, "it's for cheerleading."

"What are you cheering for? The teen-fuck-toy-tournament?"

My face froze in shock and I gulped nervously. I was thinking of what to say, when he backed off.

"Nevermind, listen, I'm just playing around. Listen, can you stack up those Malboros, the red ones?"

Do do this I had to bend down and reach into the back of the bottom shelf, to get the cartons, open them up, then stand on a stool on my tippy toes and reach through the hole in the plastic to place them in. I could feel the way my rump was sticking straight in the air as I got the cartons as fast as I could. I heard a low whistle behind me.

"Mmmm, nice, uhm, tennis shoes you have on." Gross!

It was an awkward angle to get reach over and get the packs into the plastic hole, and I could feel my breasts straining at the buttons, and jiggline around a bit. I was so embarassed and mortified. I looked over, and Larry was eyeing my body like a lion about to pounce. This was definitely not cool. I hopped off the stool, causing another little jiggle and crossed my arms under my chest. Larry stared straight at my breasts.

"Hey," he said, "as long as you got the uniform on, why don't you show me a cheer or two?"

"Ewww," I said, "I am not showing you a cheer!"

"We'll see," he said.

"Listen, Larry, you are a total perv and I have rights in the workplace. If you keep staring at me, or asking me to cheer, or whatever, I'm gonna call corporate and have you fired!"

"Hey, hey, little girl, you know I'm just playing around with you. Listen, keep your panties on, okay?"

"Just please stop," I said.

"Listen, don't worry you're pretty head about that, if you don't like it, Larry won't do it. See? I'm a harmless guy. Why don't you make some more coffee. I have some phone calls to make."

Well, I guess standing up for myself worked, because for the rest of the night, he left me completely alone. I got some snickers from local boys who came in to buy cigarettes, or soda, or beer, but nothing too bad. And I tried to stay behind the cash register, so no one could see my outfit.

It was almost closing, when a group of five scruffy looking guys came in. Two were big, black guys, which is unusual around here, because we're a very white neighborhood. They put four 12 packs of beer on the counter, and I was about to ring it up, one of the white guys asked for Larry, saying he got a discount. I called on the intercom system for Larry. He came out and he and the guys slapped fists and started grinning. One of them looked over at me.

"Damn, dude, she *is* hot," he said.

Larry gave him a sharp look and said, imitating my voice, "That is not appropriate behavior for the workplace." Then he said, "C'mon to the back guys, we can hang out there." He grapped the beers off the counter without ringing them up and they went back there.

Ten minutes later, it was time to close. I had checked out the register, everything was cleaned up, and now I just needed to give the register keys to Larry. I was scared to go back there. I knew that a group of drinking guys and my skimpy outfit and Larry was not a good mix. Plus, my boyfriend always ran late, so I decided to just wait until he arrived and then go back there with him or something. I put the closed sign on, locked the door and went back behind the counter. Larry poked his head out from the back room.

"Hey, bring us a couple packs of cigarettes, and those register keys, and then why don't you wait out front for your boyfriend so you can get out of here, okay?"

I didn't really know what to say, and I liked the way he seemed to want me gone -- as in wait outside. I figured they were probably playing Halo or watching porn or something and just wanted me out the way. I grabbed the cigarettes and the keys, took a deep breath and marched back there.

When I opened the door I was immediately grabbed by one of the huge white guys who put one hand over my mouth and with the other grabbed my hands behind my back. I tried to scream, but his hand was clamped tight. Just then, the phone rang. Larry looked at everyone and gave the "shhh" sign, and answered the phone, "AM/PM, this is Larry."

I only heard his side, but I could tell it was boyfriend running late and that Larry said I wasn't feeling well and he had given me a ride home hours ago. He said I seemed to have some kind of stomach flu, and that I told him to call my boyfriend, but he completely forgot. He apologized and said to tell him that I would call him tomorrow or the next day, when I was feeling better. He was all chummy and I could tell my boyfriend totally bought it.

He hung up and had the evilest looking grin on his face. I instantly knew that I was like a cornered animal. The store was locked, it was hard to hear much from this room even if anyone was in the store, and he had five guys with him. I could feel my eyes go wide with the terror of my situation. The guy's hands were rough on my wrists and his hand in my mouth smelled like nicotine and booze. I thought I would faint from fear.

"Oh fuck, dude, that is one hot little piece of pussy!" one of the guys said.

"Man, I'm gonna rip a whole in that little wihte cunt!" another guy said.

"Shit, man, I could titty-fuck this bitch for weeks."

I started crying right away, small scared little sobs. Larry came up to me and ran one finger over the top of my cleavage and in between my breasts.

"Now, now, is crying appropriate behavior for work?" he asked with a mean little smile. Then his face got very hard.

"Here are the rules, bitch. I'm only going to say them once, so try to listen carefully with that soft, cheerleader little brain --
1. You scream, you get hurt. Slapped, punched or cut.
2. If me or any of my friends feel any teeth or our cock or balls ("or assholes" one of the guys yelled out), I slap the shit out of you. If you bite, we kill you.
3. If you try to run, we beat the shit out of you.
4. No backtalk.
5. You do and say as you're told.
I believe, when we're finished with you, you stupid little cunt, that you might come to enjoy having lots of fresh cum oozing out of all of your little teen twat holes."

Larry pinched my right nipple through my AM/PM shirt.

"Awww, poor girl. Why don't you let go of her, and we'll see how well she understands the rules?"

The big guys let go of me and I rubbed my painful wrists and put my hands in front of my mouth to block a scream. I was so scared, and angry, but I was also trying to figure out if there was some way out this. I knew I would not be raped tonight, and I just had to figure out how to outsmart these guys, how to get out of it. I could feel my knees buckling with fear, but I had to stay calm.

"Will you look at that?" one of the guys said, "she's shaking like a little baby deer."

I was sobbing and hiccuping and trying not to collapse to the ground. The room felt like it was spinning, and I was freezing.

"Oh, yeah, and it looks like this baby deer likes the attention. Look at those headlights."

"Fuck, man, she's got some rock-hard pencil erasers on those huge titties. Bitch is enjoying this," another guy said.

They all started talking at once:
-Hey Larry, turn her around so I can see that sweet ass.
-Dude, can I pour a bottle of beer into her pussy?
-Hey, let's pour some beer down her throat, looser her up a bit?
-Man, we should videotape this cunt!
-Yeah, especially when D'angelo dick fucks her in the ass!
The guys all start laughing and whooping.
-Damn, look at how her titties bounce from her crying. It's like she's trying to turn us on!
-Larry, let's get on this shit, man! I'm gonna be able to nut at least five times with a hot little twat like this to play with.
-Yeah, Larry, who's gonna go first? I'm kind of a traditionalist. I like it mouth, bust a nut; pussy, bust a nut; ass, bust a nut, give the whore a facial, and then start all over.

I still coudn't think of how to get out of this, but I had a hard determination that these men would not rape me. But my body was taking over and the terror was getting to me. I started crying loud now, against my will, and finally crumpled down onto the floor, on my kneeds, my head bent over in my hands, sobbing.

-Oh, yeah, look, good little cunt knows to assume the position, on your knees bitch, she's already there. You let me do her mouth first, man, we call it even on the $500 you owe me.

"Quiet guys. Before start playing with her, I think she should get herself up and do some cheers for us. Don't you?"

To be continued by me, if y'all want, or by you ...

[AWDracer]

Originally Posted by littlerapedgirl

This is my first story. I know it's slow to start and long, but I hope you'll like all the juicy details. It takes a while for a girl to get so completely humilated, like I was. Feedback and continuation is very appreciated:

I don't remember what happened after the third time I passed out ... help me fill in the blanks, please .

Toward the end of senior year of high school (I was 18, y'all), I was kept and raped for several days by my manager at the AM/PM, and his friends. It was my last year on the cheerleading team, and I was late for my 6p.m. - 1 a.m. shift because we were practicing a big stunt where I jump, bounce, turn, and land in a handstand in the splits. It was my fourth year on cheer, and I could tell by now that all the dads were watching not for the choreography, but for the way our breasts would jiggle in our little tank tops, or the way that our splits would give them a wide open beaver shot. I liked the power and attention, how my 34D's, tight, curvy bottom, and smooth thighs made grown men act like quivering little boys. But except for cheer, I tried not to egg the boys on. I dressed more for fashion than sexiness, and was, believe it or not, waiting until I was in love to do it. Not that I hand't given a boy a handjob or two, and done some seriously heavy petting.

The day manager at AM/PM was this total lech, Larry, who was scruffy and at least 40, and constantly leering, even though I was completely covered up. He also was always asking me to get things from high shelves or do things where I would have to bend over. Fortunately, his and my shift only overlapped for an hour, and then there was this 60 year-old woman who came on who just sat in the back and read magazines, so the rest of the night was usually chill.

On this day, like I said, I was late because practice went until, like 5:55, so my boyfriend drove me high-speed to the store, and as we were pulling up, at ten after six, I realized my AM/PM uniform was at home. Shit! I ran in to the store, my hair in ponytails, and my teeny skirt swaying. I knew Larry would be a creep. Immediately he was on my case for being late. Breathless, my chest heaving up and down, I asked him if he could hang on 10 more minutes while we speeded home to get my uniform and came right back.

"Absolutely not," he said. "You are late enough as it is young lady. You'll have to work in that." He tossed me an AM/PM shirt. "Here, you can wear that over your ... your little bra," he said, referring to my cheerleading mini-tank. I ran back out to tell my boyfriend to go home, and ran back in, unbuttoning the shirt as I went to punch in. Extra-small! There was no way this was going to fit across my breasts. I put the shirt on and tried to button in. The first two buttons worked, but they only served to pull my breasts together and create more cleavage coming out of the top. It buttoned tight at my waist, and then there was just my pleated mini-skirt below that. I could not possibly work for seven hours looking like such a tart! At least he would be gone in forty-five minutes, and Martha would probably let me go home and change.

Larry went into the back room just after I clocked in, brushing against my bottom on the way in. "Careful where you're going," he barked. I apologized and went out to work the register. Five minutes later he came out and said he just talked to Martha and she would be taking the night off, and he would cover for her. He told me because it was just the two of us, we'd have to work extra hard. I was nervous, not looking forward to a night of gross leering and possibly being along with him in the back room. I thought about calling in sick, but my parents were out of town and my boyfriend, my only ride, was out for the evening with his buddies.

I decided I would just ignore his advances and make the best of it. It began right away. He came behind the counter and looked me up and down, as if I were a prize pig he were buying.

"Now I know the educational system ain't what it used to be, but do you really think that's an appropriate outfit for a workplace, girly?" he said.

I was furious, and humiliated. He knew I'd ask to change! He gave me the teeny shirt! But still, I wanted to try to be a good employee. "No sir," I said, "it's for cheerleading."

"What are you cheering for? The teen-fuck-toy-tournament?"

My face froze in shock and I gulped nervously. I was thinking of what to say, when he backed off.

"Nevermind, listen, I'm just playing around. Listen, can you stack up those Malboros, the red ones?"

Do do this I had to bend down and reach into the back of the bottom shelf, to get the cartons, open them up, then stand on a stool on my tippy toes and reach through the hole in the plastic to place them in. I could feel the way my rump was sticking straight in the air as I got the cartons as fast as I could. I heard a low whistle behind me.

"Mmmm, nice, uhm, tennis shoes you have on." Gross!

It was an awkward angle to get reach over and get the packs into the plastic hole, and I could feel my breasts straining at the buttons, and jiggline around a bit. I was so embarassed and mortified. I looked over, and Larry was eyeing my body like a lion about to pounce. This was definitely not cool. I hopped off the stool, causing another little jiggle and crossed my arms under my chest. Larry stared straight at my breasts.

"Hey," he said, "as long as you got the uniform on, why don't you show me a cheer or two?"

"Ewww," I said, "I am not showing you a cheer!"

"We'll see," he said.

"Listen, Larry, you are a total perv and I have rights in the workplace. If you keep staring at me, or asking me to cheer, or whatever, I'm gonna call corporate and have you fired!"

"Hey, hey, little girl, you know I'm just playing around with you. Listen, keep your panties on, okay?"

"Just please stop," I said.

"Listen, don't worry you're pretty head about that, if you don't like it, Larry won't do it. See? I'm a harmless guy. Why don't you make some more coffee. I have some phone calls to make."

Well, I guess standing up for myself worked, because for the rest of the night, he left me completely alone. I got some snickers from local boys who came in to buy cigarettes, or soda, or beer, but nothing too bad. And I tried to stay behind the cash register, so no one could see my outfit.

It was almost closing, when a group of five scruffy looking guys came in. Two were big, black guys, which is unusual around here, because we're a very white neighborhood. They put four 12 packs of beer on the counter, and I was about to ring it up, one of the white guys asked for Larry, saying he got a discount. I called on the intercom system for Larry. He came out and he and the guys slapped fists and started grinning. One of them looked over at me.

"Damn, dude, she *is* hot," he said.

Larry gave him a sharp look and said, imitating my voice, "That is not appropriate behavior for the workplace." Then he said, "C'mon to the back guys, we can hang out there." He grapped the beers off the counter without ringing them up and they went back there.

Ten minutes later, it was time to close. I had checked out the register, everything was cleaned up, and now I just needed to give the register keys to Larry. I was scared to go back there. I knew that a group of drinking guys and my skimpy outfit and Larry was not a good mix. Plus, my boyfriend always ran late, so I decided to just wait until he arrived and then go back there with him or something. I put the closed sign on, locked the door and went back behind the counter. Larry poked his head out from the back room.

"Hey, bring us a couple packs of cigarettes, and those register keys, and then why don't you wait out front for your boyfriend so you can get out of here, okay?"

I didn't really know what to say, and I liked the way he seemed to want me gone -- as in wait outside. I figured they were probably playing Halo or watching porn or something and just wanted me out the way. I grabbed the cigarettes and the keys, took a deep breath and marched back there.

When I opened the door I was immediately grabbed by one of the huge white guys who put one hand over my mouth and with the other grabbed my hands behind my back. I tried to scream, but his hand was clamped tight. Just then, the phone rang. Larry looked at everyone and gave the "shhh" sign, and answered the phone, "AM/PM, this is Larry."

I only heard his side, but I could tell it was boyfriend running late and that Larry said I wasn't feeling well and he had given me a ride home hours ago. He said I seemed to have some kind of stomach flu, and that I told him to call my boyfriend, but he completely forgot. He apologized and said to tell him that I would call him tomorrow or the next day, when I was feeling better. He was all chummy and I could tell my boyfriend totally bought it.

He hung up and had the evilest looking grin on his face. I instantly knew that I was like a cornered animal. The store was locked, it was hard to hear much from this room even if anyone was in the store, and he had five guys with him. I could feel my eyes go wide with the terror of my situation. The guy's hands were rough on my wrists and his hand in my mouth smelled like nicotine and booze. I thought I would faint from fear.

"Oh fuck, dude, that is one hot little piece of pussy!" one of the guys said.

"Man, I'm gonna rip a whole in that little wihte cunt!" another guy said.

"Shit, man, I could titty-fuck this bitch for weeks."

I started crying right away, small scared little sobs. Larry came up to me and ran one finger over the top of my cleavage and in between my breasts.

"Now, now, is crying appropriate behavior for work?" he asked with a mean little smile. Then his face got very hard.

"Here are the rules, bitch. I'm only going to say them once, so try to listen carefully with that soft, cheerleader little brain --
1. You scream, you get hurt. Slapped, punched or cut.
2. If me or any of my friends feel any teeth or our cock or balls ("or assholes" one of the guys yelled out), I slap the shit out of you. If you bite, we kill you.
3. If you try to run, we beat the shit out of you.
4. No backtalk.
5. You do and say as you're told.
I believe, when we're finished with you, you stupid little cunt, that you might come to enjoy having lots of fresh cum oozing out of all of your little teen twat holes."

Larry pinched my right nipple through my AM/PM shirt.

"Awww, poor girl. Why don't you let go of her, and we'll see how well she understands the rules?"

The big guys let go of me and I rubbed my painful wrists and put my hands in front of my mouth to block a scream. I was so scared, and angry, but I was also trying to figure out if there was some way out this. I knew I would not be raped tonight, and I just had to figure out how to outsmart these guys, how to get out of it. I could feel my knees buckling with fear, but I had to stay calm.

"Will you look at that?" one of the guys said, "she's shaking like a little baby deer."

I was sobbing and hiccuping and trying not to collapse to the ground. The room felt like it was spinning, and I was freezing.

"Oh, yeah, and it looks like this baby deer likes the attention. Look at those headlights."

"Fuck, man, she's got some rock-hard pencil erasers on those huge titties. Bitch is enjoying this," another guy said.

They all started talking at once:
-Hey Larry, turn her around so I can see that sweet ass.
-Dude, can I pour a bottle of beer into her pussy?
-Hey, let's pour some beer down her throat, looser her up a bit?
-Man, we should videotape this cunt!
-Yeah, especially when D'angelo dick fucks her in the ass!
The guys all start laughing and whooping.
-Damn, look at how her titties bounce from her crying. It's like she's trying to turn us on!
-Larry, let's get on this shit, man! I'm gonna be able to nut at least five times with a hot little twat like this to play with.
-Yeah, Larry, who's gonna go first? I'm kind of a traditionalist. I like it mouth, bust a nut; pussy, bust a nut; ass, bust a nut, give the whore a facial, and then start all over.

I still coudn't think of how to get out of this, but I had a hard determination that these men would not rape me. But my body was taking over and the terror was getting to me. I started crying loud now, against my will, and finally crumpled down onto the floor, on my kneeds, my head bent over in my hands, sobbing.

-Oh, yeah, look, good little cunt knows to assume the position, on your knees bitch, she's already there. You let me do her mouth first, man, we call it even on the $500 you owe me.

"Quiet guys. Before start playing with her, I think she should get herself up and do some cheers for us. Don't you?"

To be continued by me, if y'all want, or by you ...

So far so good lil, keep writing! I wanna hear more please!

[HYMENBUSTER]

fan-fucking-tastic!!!