A Fine Balancing Act

"This rebranding is going to kill us! We might as well declare bankruptcy," screamed Hector Maman, the principal of a small-town university in Texas. "What was the board thinking?" he ranted, throwing a bunch of papers across the desk.

"I guess they had to think of something after that sex scandal last year became national news," conceded Coach Aaron Turner. "Anyway, it's not my problem. They want a new and logo, so my cheerleaders will have to get new uniforms. I need you to sign those sanction forms. How you pay for it -- take it up with the board."

"Okay, okay. Have you figured out the uniform's design yet?"

"Yeah. It's basically the same as last year's, with some minor changes in style and color. And, of course, the logo. The PR agency came up with it and it seems fine to me."

"Here," Principal Maman scribbled furiously across a form, "Now get out. I'm sure there's other people waiting outside with similar forms."

Two giant boxes arrived into the locker rooms a week later. Coach sent out word to gather all his cheerleaders. Morale had been down for quite a few months and nothing like new clothes or a pair of shoes to cheer them up. He didn't want to wait till the practice session to break the news.

He stood between the boxes with his legs spread and arms folded across his chest, looking at the semi-circle of the young dance troupe, waiting for them to stop murmuring. "Ladies, I have a surprise for you today" - he knelt down and tapped the boxes - "Christmas has come early for us. Who wants to see what's in here?"

The girls crowded around the boxes and Coach ceremoniously opened them, revealing the blue and gold treasures within. Many of them squealed, some jumped for joy. He handed out two uniforms and a pair of shoes to each girl. "Okay, get back to your classes. Don't be late for practice today."

The girls were measuring the new T-shirts on each others' backs or admiring the new designs. Slowly, they started dispersing. "Mary," called Coach.

"Yes, Coach?"

"I'd like to see you in my office today after practice, please."

"Okay, Coach."

*****

The girls hit the gym at 4:00 p.m. There was a little extra enthusiasm during practice. Assistant Coach Angela ran them through the regular sets and there was no bickering from the girls. At 6:00, she called time, wished them all a good night and left to pack up for the evening. Many of the girls hit the showers. Others who lived nearby would freshen up at home. Mary headed for Coach Turner's office and politely knocked on the door.

"Come in," rang out his raspy voice, hoarse from years of screaming instructions. "Please sit," he pointed to a chair when she poked her head through the door. Mary closed the door behind her and sat down, looking inquiringly at the coach.

"Mary, I know you've joined us from a very conservative convent school, so the principal has been a little lenient with you."

She wasn't sure what he meant about the leniency, so she just said, "Yes, sir. My father was transferred here quite suddenly. I'm grateful to the university for accepting me."

"You also told me on your first day that you really wanted to try out for the cheerleading unit."

"Yes, sir."

"How's it going for you?"

"Coach Angela is really nice to us. She's already taught me how to jump on a trampoline and balance on someone else's shoulders. If I keep practicing, I'm sure I'll be ready for this year's championship."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Mary. The university is tight on finances. We placed only fifth in the championships last year. This year we really need to win it and get the first-place cheque."

"I'll do my best, sir. All the girls are really practicing hard."

"I'm afraid I have some disturbing news, Mary." Her eyes widened. "I can't pick you for this year's squad. We really need a perfect team."

Her face fell. "I swear, I'll work really hard, sir."

"It's not that. There are other reasons."

"What, sir? I'm sure I can work on it."

"It would be inappropriate for me to tell you. You're a young girl. What, just turned 18? You'll have plenty of opportunities to join the squad."

Tears were welling up in Mary's eyes. "Please, sir. I need to know. Why can't I be on the team?"

"Mary, I'm your coach. University policies, especially the new policies, don't allow me to speak to you about things like this."

"I promise I won't tell anyone. Please, sir, just tell me."

Coach Turner stared at Mary for a minute or so in silence. Then he dropped his shoulders in defeat. "Okay, but you mustn't tell anyone, alright?" She nodded. "Please lock the door. I don't want anyone walking in when I tell you."

Mary eagerly hopped over to the door, turned a knob and sat back down. "What is it, sir?" she whispered.

"Your breasts look uneven. They don't look balanced."

"What?" she gasped loudly.

"We've got new, tighter uniforms now and your breasts look like they are different sizes. I'm not sure if they are, but from afar they look that way. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but we need to win this championship and I'm under a lot of pressure to put up perfect girls. I'm sorry. Remember, if you speak of this to anyone, I will simply deny it."

"No, no, I won't tell anyone, but my breasts are fine, sir. I looked at them just this morning."

"Mary, please understand, it's not about whether they are fine or not. It's the appearance. Sure, there are ways to fix it, but with the budget cuts and whatnot, I must simply pick a different girl for this year."

"Can't we just measure them? You'll see that they are both the same size." Her tone was rebellious now. She didn't even call him Coach or Sir. Didn't even say Please.

Coach Turner started twirling a paper weight on his desk. The room was silent for a couple of minutes except for the sound of the glass grinding on the wood. "Okay, I can see that you are determined," the coach gave in. "I'll make a deal with you. We'll measure your breasts, but if it turns out that they are not the same size, then you'll leave me alone?"

"Yes!" squealed Mary triumphantly.

"Remember, I'm doing this as a personal favor to you. No one must know about this."

"Yes, sir."

The coach opened a drawer in his desk, pulled out a measuring tape and stood up. "Please sit here on the desk." Mary walked around to his side of the desk and perched in front of him. Without saying a word, he cupped her right breast in his right hand and weighed it. He then did the same with her left.

"Hmmm. Please take off the T-shirt," he instructed, stretching the measuring tape between his hands to make the process look clinical. In many convent schools, sex education was taboo and the coach knew Mary wouldn't have been very aware of everything he was about to do. However, he was sure she had been told to never undress in front of others, so he needed this part of his act to be convincing.

Mary willingly crossed her hands in front of her chest, held two ends of her T-shirt and pulled it off, ruffling her neat brown hair in the process. The coach ogled as he stared at her massive mammaries bouncing under a sexy, thin lace bra. "What size bra do you wear?"

"38D. I had to change it this year."

"Hmmm. That might be part of the problem," he expounded like a doctor. "Anyway, let's get this over with. I have a wife waiting for me at home," he reinforced his aloofness.

He pushed the side of his left hand into her cleavage and wrapped his fingers around her right breast to 'hold it in place'. His thumb went inside the bra and wiggled around. He then wrapped the measuring tape around her breast as close to the chest as he could and murmured, "10.7." He switched hands and grabbed her left breast, squeezing it a few times. He was having a hard time keeping his face straight. Mary just sat innocently. He measured it and whispered, "11.3."

He then proceeded to measure each boob around the front. He held one end of the tape under her armpit and slid it across her boob,feeling it all along the way. Again, he announced differing measurements. Finally, he let out a sigh of exasperation. "You know, I'm not sure I'm getting accurate readings on this. I think your bra is distorting your breasts. Please take it off."

Mary reached behind her back and unhooked the bra. She slipped off the straps and all Coach Turner could do for several long moments was stare at the massive pendulums dangling with a lot of weight. She had bright pink nipples and almost smooth, dollar-size areolas. The nipples were collapsed into her flesh.

Once more, the coach weighed her tits, taking a little longer this time. They felt supple and heavy, just how he liked them. Before it became too weird, the measured her breasts one by one, taking a lot longer. He blew on the left nipple and it stood up a little.

As before, he made sure the markers on the tape were hidden under the boob or off to Mary's side so that she wouldn't be able to see what it read. Even if she could have seen it, he tightened and loosened the tape on each breast so that he'd get different readings. He declared, "This is still not proper. Look at this, one nipple is a little harder than the other. I need to make them both the same size to get accurate readings."

He dropped the tape measure and used both hands to simultaneously rub her nipples. Quietly, they stood up. Coach Turner grumbled a little, looked at his watch and claimed, "I need to speed this up." He wrapped his hand around Mary's back and plunged his lips on to her left nipple. He opened his mouth and bit it, then tongued it. Soon, he had a large portion of the huge sweet globe in his mouth and was sucking it liberally.

He was breathing very heavily when he began the assault on her right breast. He was so violent that if he hadn't been a sports coach, he'd probably have collapsed with a heart failure by the time he was finished. Her nipples were definitely standing at attention now and Mary was squirming due to the uncomfortable feelings in her crotch.

For the third time, he picked up the tape measure and measured her breasts, squeezing and distorting them with some purpose this time. Suddenly, he said with finality, "Are you satisfied now? One breast is just under an inch larger than the other. Now please leave me alone."

The tears were back in Mary's eyes. "You said there was a way to fix them? Maybe I can pay for the treatment," she sobbed.

"Oh no!" the coach slapped his forehead. "I never should have let that slip out. Listen, Mary, this has already gone too far. Don't worry, you'll make the team next year."

"But what's the treatment? Maybe I can ask my mother to take me to a doctor?"

"No!" he almost screamed. "Remember, no matter what happens, you must tell no one about this. Remember, you promised."

"Yes, I did," replied Mary. Her head dropped in disappointment. She picked up her breasts and weighed them, looking at one, then the other. "Please help me, Coach." A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Mary, I've already told you this is extremely inappropriate and against all rules. We agreed that if your breasts are of different sizes, you'll leave."

"Yes, but what if we can make them the same size in time for the championship? If we can't, I'll quit the team myself. You've got to help me, Coach."

He let out another defeated sigh. "Alright. But this is going to take commitment and regular treatment."

"I'll do it!"

"Okay, sit tight. I'll need to mold your breasts. Normally this is done once a day, but the championship is really close. We'll need to do it twice a day. We can schedule it during your lunch break and after cheerleading practice. But remember, if you tell anyone, this will all stop and you can't be on the team any more."

"Okay."

The horny jerk sat on the desk next to the young student and wrapped one arm around her waist. With the other, he grabbed one boob and started digging into it. He was massaging it so hard that his untidy nails left marks in the young flesh. Soon, his balancing hand caught the other boob from behind. He turned Mary slightly for better access and was groping her boobs with the lust and frustration of a horny kid. It was painful for her, but she didn't say anything. Her breath shortened and she let out a squeak in agony every now and then.

He tormented her boobs for several minutes. Her chest was bright red. "That should squeeze them into size," he announced, as a magician addresses an audience. "Now to give them the right shape." For the second time that evening, he took her boob into his mouth and sucked in as much of it as he could. His sucking stretched the skin so much that the veins looked like they would pop out. His teeth left two dotted red lines where he bit into it. He used his weight to push her back on the desk, her legs hanging off it. Anyone who heard him grunt would know there was a very unhealthy romp going on in this room.

He did the same to the other boob. Mary was very uncomfortable because of what was happening between her legs. Much to Coach Turner's delight, every now and then she would rub her crotch very hard. By the time he was finished with both breasts, her hand was under her skirt and she was constantly rubbing her pussy.

"This works better if I suck the air out of your lungs. It's much easier to bend them into shape if there's less pressure from the inside," he explained. He closed his mouth on hers and started sucking on her tongue while he continued squeezing her boobs. Instinctively, Mary responded and started kissing him, her one hand running wildly through his hair, the other rubbing her groin. Suddenly he got up, gave her perked up nipples a hard flick each, straightened his clothes and looked at his watch. "Okay, that's all I can do today. I have to be going home now."

"Oh!" moaned Mary.

"Mary, what are you doing?" he accused, pointing to her hand.

"I don't think I'm feeling well, sir. It feels really funny down there."

"Hmmm. I should have thought of this first. It's a known side effect of the treatment." Mary sat up and her eyes showed fear. The coach ran his fingers through her hair and calmed her, "Don't worry, honey, it's a common occurrence. I know how it can be helped, but we need to treat it right away. Do you like what you are feeling?"

"Actually, it feels really good, but also a little funny. It feels better when I rub it. Please do something fast."

Coach Turner rolled his fingers along Mary's inner thighs. She jerked and gasped as the feelings in her crotch intensified. He raised her skirt and examined her thong. It didn't do much to hide her shaved lips. Now he was rubbing his crotch, too. The tent in his pants was threatening to blow his zipper out.

He unhooked her skirt, pulled the thong away and put his finger on the slit. Mary immediately trembled with pleasure. He stroked it gently at first, then sped up. He plunged his finger into the tight hole and felt around a little before pulling it out to smell her juices. "This doesn't look good," he said clinically.

Mary looked at him with fear. "Not good?"

"Oh, don't worry. I just meant it's a little more severe than normal. It can still be treated. See, your body is releasing all this stuff - it's reacting to the treatment. I'll just have to work harder to fix the side effects. Don't worry, I'm going to help you. It's best you lie down for this."

He bent down, took a whiff of her pussy and jammed his mouth into it. He used his fingers to spread the lips and found her clit with his tongue. The first lick sent a shock through Mary's body. She squealed with delight. A short, but very shrill squeal. Turner kept teasing her clit until she was clutching the sides of the desk tightly. Her knuckles were white.

He got up and asked, "Does that feel better?" She nodded in agony. This was torturous, yet somehow exactly what she wanted. "Ok, I'm going to try a more direct method now," he declared.

He unhooked his belt, unzipped his pants and took off his underwear. Mary was staring at the ceiling praying for the pain to go away but the pleasure to linger. He pulled Mary's hips off the desk and spread her legs as wide as he could. His hard cock was already pointed at her slit. He stroked the head on it a few times. "This will be painful for a moment, Mary, but I want you to be brave. If you can be brave, the pain will go away soon."

"Okay."

He shoved his rod into her and she screamed. Her pussy was excruciatingly tight and the coach was in agony, too. Nonetheless, he just kept pushing in a slow rhythm. Mary was gasping for air. She arched her back, but the coach held her down - he was mauling her boobs again. After several minutes, she screamed - she'd just had her first orgasm. The coach hadn't come yet and didn't let go of her. He pushed and pushed and pushed for several more minutes. He sucked on her boobs and bit her nipples. Finally, he filled her with a stream of his stuff and dropped his head next to hers.

Once he got his strength back, he stood up and gently pulled his cock out. He caught his breath and asked, "Does it feel better now?"

"Yes, the funny feeling is lesser."

"Good. Remember, we need to do this twice a day if I have to get you in shape for the team. I'll see you tomorrow at lunch. Also, tomorrow I'll need to take pictures of your breasts so that I can monitor your progress."