Cheerloathing Ch. 01-09

"I played in high school and just got in at the college," Carrie said.

"Fancy a game?"

Carrie held up her bagged racquet and Brett smiled.

"Don't go easy on her Brett," Sara said, then turned to Carrie and added, "he might have used to play a bit back in the day."

"Jesus," Brett grumbled. "I'm only fifty. You make me sound like a fucking fossil. Pardon my French."

"What did you play? Carrie asked.

"Just USTA. Nothing major."

"You two good?" Sara asked.

"Sure," Carrie agreed, looking excited.

"Find me whenever you're ready," Diana said and Carrie nodded.

She followed Sara back inside as Brett led Carrie onto the court. Brett would enjoy Carrie, she thought. A hot little thing like her was just the pervert's thing. It might, she mused, have been kind to let Carrie know that Brett was a convicted molester, but seeing her discover it for herself would likely be more fun. Besides, he pretty much kept those urges in check these days, with a little help from Sara in the showers some nights. Letting him jerk off on her and molest her body in the shower was a good warm-up for when she went home to work on her dad.

Sara brought Diana back to the main floor of the gym, where she had mats laid out. Diana's eyes shifted to the big, muscled men, gruff and tattooed, lifting heavy weights. Sara enjoyed her discomfort as she imagined those burly bastards checking her out while they stretched and limbered up. She sucked it up and put on a game face, though.

The stretches were calming, but as they did them, Sara observed Diana's form for any weak points or flaws. There were none. Every move was graceful, every touch flawless. She'd expected as much, but she had a little hope that being stared at like meat by a bunch of ex-cons and ogling perverts might throw her off a bit. The girl had a nice, shielded mental space against appraising eyes, it seemed.

That made sense. Being looked at and watched with envy and desire was part of being a top girl. Sara added that to her growing research file, wondering if Diana liked the spotlight, the lusty looks, or both.

They got down on the mats, legs spread, and joined hands for some partner stretches. Sara probed her rival further while they did so.

"You see? Not so bad. They like to look but keep to themselves and don't bother you. You okay?"

"Yeah. It might not be the place I would have chosen," Diana admitted, "but everyone seems nice enough. Do you ever get hit on?"

Nice enough, Sara thought, until they're picking you up and slam-fucking their cocks into you against a locker.

Outwardly, she said, "It wouldn't be a gym if some muscular douche didn't try it. Most of them have seen me around since I was in high school, though, and it's pretty rare for a new face to stay here for long. Those that do are more likely to fend off a creep for you, rather than creep on you. Not that I need it, but it makes them feel good."

"I still can't believe the whole little blond death machine thing. It's pretty cool. Would you show me some?"

Sara looked over the men in the gym and shouted, "Brick!"

A solid wall of muscle with a bare chest and a skull tattoo on his chest glanced over at her from where he stood with a bar across his shoulders, squatting with immense weights on either side. Sara nodded him over. He lifted the bar like it was made of foam and shouldered it back onto the rack. Diana suddenly looked uneasy. The big man towered over the two of them, with their legs apart on the floor.

Sara noted with satisfaction that Diana looked a bit afraid. The image of Brick picking Diana up and carrying her off to the back, then slamming her tits down on the ring and mounting her flashed through Sara's mind. It was hot.

"What's up, PomPom," Brick said, showing a grin that was missing a front tooth.

"This is my teammate, Diana. She's struggling with the idea of the kickboxing cheerleader. You up for a spar after we finish here?"

"You know it," Brick agreed.

"Give us about an hour."

Brick nodded, drank in Diana's tits in her sports bra, and returned to his weights.

"That guy?" Diana whispered, "Seriously? You're going to spar with that?"

"Sure!"

"Your balls are probably bigger than his," Diana muttered.

Sara wasn't so sure about that. Brick had pretty big nuts.

Outwardly, she said, "Oh, he's going to kick my ass. No doubt. I might land some good hits and I'm quick, but as for actually winning a real match? I doubt even I have the endurance to inflict death by a thousand paper cuts, and that's what it would feel like to him. It's good practice, though. He's like hitting a human punching bag. You know that no matter how hard you fist the son of a bitch, you're never going to hurt him."

Sparring with Brick, she mused, usually resulted in her being roughly pinned to the mat as he pulled back her hair and made her beg for the violent cock-stuffings he gave her to stop. There were always tears, too, which she liked. Jesus, she was getting wet just thinking about it.

After the stretching came V-sits, a series of loaded squats, and some jumping jacks. Those did draw some attention, and a few claps from the men as the two girls made up a cheer for the gym on the spot. After the workout, Diana followed Sara into the back, where they were met by Carrie. Diana's sister was flushed, sweating, grinning, and had an arm around Brett's shoulder. He looked winded and his racquet dangled limply in his hand.

"Meet your match?" Sara asked as the two of them sidled up.

"Either she's fast or I'm old," Brett said.

"Both," Carrie said, jabbing an elbow into his side that made him wince.

"Yeah. Both," he agreed. "You going in the ring?"

"Just gonna show Diana how Brick kicks my ass."

Sara selected padded gloves and put on a sparring helmet as Brick did the same, then the two of them climbed into the ring. Sara danced around a bit and they touched gloves, then stepped back. Diana and Carrie stood with Brett, awed at the sight. It was like watching a butterfly prepare to attack a tank.

The butterfly moved in more like a hornet. Jab, low jab, straight right-hand fake, followed by a right foot jab. The mountain staring her down skillfully blocked, dodged the fake, and swatted away Sara's foot. He circled around her and returned a jab and a straight right, which whiffed against Sara's speed. He followed up on her undefended side with a left hook, but the little blonde bent back, nearly in half, and vaulted back in a handspring. Her foot came up and caught the brute in the chin as she completed the spring, landing on her feet with her gloves up.

Brick staggered back in surprise, while Diana and Carrie gasped and Brett exclaimed, "Ooh!"

Beside them, another man laughed and said, "Illegal as fuck, but it makes for good TV."

Sara gave Brick a come'n get it gesture with one glove and the big man laughed. He came back in with a left foot jab, attempting to distract her from the following jab and straight right, but Sara caught them on her gloves. Brick put a quick left hook kick into her ribs that staggered her, but she made a quick recovery. She spun with the force of the blow, turning it into a high right hook kick, which Brick blocked. She flowed in lower with a jab and a low straight right that caught him in the ribs, then a fast left hook that landed on his face as he moved to defend his lower body.

She danced back from his counter and backed herself into a corner. Brick came in as Sara set her feet on the ring ropes and, just before he could reach her, launched herself over his head. There was a collective gasp from everyone watching as Sara curled into a ball and wheeled over his head. Her feet hit the mat and, as Brick turned, completely unprepared, she planted a back kick into the center of his chest that rocked him back.

"What. The. Fuck!" Brett exclaimed. "Did that just happen?"

Diana and Carrie nodded slowly in disbelief and the man next to them cackled madly.

The follow-up combo was like a gale whipping through trees. Jab, low jab, straight right hand, and a low left hook to the ribs. Brick, off guard, took every blow before he got his gloves up and made a kick at Sara's legs. When she lifted the leg out of the way, Brick threw a fake and Sara went for it, raising her gloves to block a blow that never came. The real strike, an uppercut connected right on her chin.

Everyone watching held their breath and the world seemed to move in slow motion as Sara's feet left the mat and she crashed onto her back. She groaned but a second later she sat up and shook her head. Brick stood over her, offering his hand, which Sara took. She staggered to her feet and gave him a punch on the shoulder.

"Fucking showoff," he said. "That shit wouldn't fly anywhere but here."

Sara gave him a return punch in the arm that made him laugh. He took her arm, held it up like she was a champion, and the watchers clapped and hollered. Sara removed a glove, tucking it under her arm, then took off her helmet and shook out her sweat-damp hair. Under the ropes she climbed and out of the ring, meeting up with Diana and Carrie.

"That was ridiculous!" Diana exclaimed. "Holy shit!"

"It was like something out of a movie," Carrie added. "I wish I had it on video. You'd be internet famous."

"Are you alright?" Diana asked.

Sara nodded and said, "He's given me worse. So, which of you is next?"

Diana and Carrie shared a look and shook their heads.

"I'll stick to tennis," Carrie said.

"I think I'm done for today," Sara said. "So, what did you think?"

Diana nodded and said, "I'd come back. This was a lot more fun than the campus gym."

Carrie put out her hand to Brett and asked, "Rematch?"

He took it, looked at her tits, and said, "You bet. I'm here Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday at nine."

"See you in practice tomorrow?" Diana asked.

Sara nodded and put a quick kiss on her cheek, saying, "Thanks for coming down, babe. We're gonna have a lot of fun."

Diana blushed at the kiss, said, "Yeah," and left with her sister.

"Hot little piece of ass," Brett said when the two girls walked out the door.

"You want a taste?"

Brett chuckled and said, "Does a dog want a bone?"

"Did you talk to her at all?"

"Just court jabs. Girl knows a lot of dick jokes. Likes to have you put your hands on her to show her new things, too. Didn't even bat an eye when I gave her a little feel."

"What's your perv-o-meter say about her?" Sara asked.

"Itchin' for a fucking, is what it says. You know I got a radar for the closet sluts. That's one for sure. The sister, Diana, there's something there, too, but I can't quite get it."

"Just get to know Carrie. I'm leaving."

"You gonna shower?" Brett asked, hopeful.

"When I get home. Take care of it yourself. Think about Carrie while you do it," Sara said with a smirk.

She put away her gloves and helmet, then crossed to the locker rooms to get her bag. Hank's did have individual locker rooms for both genders, but Sara used the men's. She was the only female that actually came to the gym. Most took a look at the crowd and decided it wasn't for them. Their loss.

Opening her locker, she withdrew her bag, closed it, and turned around to find a naked Brick dwarfing her. She took a step back in surprise. For someone so big, he could be quick and quiet.

"You got a few good ones in out there today," he said.

"I cheated. It was against the rules. I should probably be penalized."

Brick's hand came up and clasped her throat, tightening, and Sara gasped as he pushed her against the locker. Her hands shot up and wrapped around his thick wrist as she stared up at him, her eyes daring. Brick tugged at her shorts and yanked them down, then lifted her by the neck and laughed as the shorts slid the rest of the way down her trim legs and Sara choked. Her feet kicked and her hands tightened on his arm.

With his free hand, he cupped one cheek of her ass and held her in place against the locker, easing the tension on her neck and allowing her to breathe. He released his hold and gripped her other cheek, then lowered her onto his cock. Sara whimpered as he guided her body down, impaling her on his shaft, her butt gripped tightly in his palms.

"I got something for cheatin' cunts, PomPom," Brick growled and shoved his cock up her roughly.

Sara jerked, her back against the locker and her hands went up to clutch at his thick neck. Her legs encircled his waist, and then Brick began to fuck her. The brute was always mean and hard, and this time it was no different. He lifted her as easily as the weights, using her smaller body to pleasure himself. Sara panted and huffed as he lifted her, and then shoved her down on his length, over and over.

Her pussy gushed around his stalk on every in-thrust as she held on. This wasn't two people having sex, which is what really got her off with him. He just fucked her. He used her. She was like a human fleshlight for him, a writhing, gasping, sweating, moaning sex toy that he was just using to masturbate with.

Other guys used her and degraded her, sure, and she let them, encouraged them, needed them to. Brick, though, was one of the most degrading of all for that reason. There was never any real participation on her part. The mountain purely used her body to get himself off, and that feeling, the utter helplessness, surrender, and knowing that she could do absolutely nothing to stop him, had her cumming like a train every time.

She did it now, even though he wasn't being as rough as if he'd had her pinned on the mat. It was just the right sort of rough that she wanted right now. Even as her cunt spasmed and her body twitched, Brick rearranged her body for his pleasure. He took, first, one arm and removed his hand from her ass. He slid it under her leg and clamped his hand on her cheek again. He repeated it with his other. He now had his arms under her legs for leverage.

He pushed forward, taking advantage of her extreme flexibility, bending her legs back nearly to her shoulders. Sara moaned hotly as he basically folded her in half and then began to ram his dick into her as he crushed her against the locker.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she chanted in harsh breaths, each time he stuffed his cock into her.

"Give me one more, PomPom," he growled as he slammed his meat into her cunt and her back against the locker.

Sara did, gushing girl cum around his prick at his mistreatment. Fuck, it was a great way to end a workout! Her only regret was that she hadn't had the foresight to record it and taunt her dad with it. Well, surely there would be a next time.

***

Chapter Seven: The Bad Daughter

Sara let herself into the house and dropped her gym bag in the hall. Smelling of sweat and with the film of it on her skin and soaking her sports bra, she crept into the living room, where her father dozed on the couch. Paused, on the TV, was the image of her face. Her head was pressed into Link's crotch and her teary eyes were looking at the camera as he fucked her face. Sara grinned and almost laughed out loud. She could hardly wait to torture her dad with the other clips of the video from the boat, but those would come throughout the week.

She looked down at the sleeping form of her father, his pants unzipped, and wondered how many times he'd beaten off to this video today. Not that it mattered. His eventual submission was all that mattered.

She lay down on top of him, pressing her body to his, straddling his lap, and pushing her cunt against his crotch. His eyes fluttered open as she kissed his lips, gently pushing her tongue into his mouth and running her hand through his hair. He groaned and his hand came up to palm her ass through her shorts. When he finally realized what was happening, his hand didn't move but he groaned and pulled his mouth away. That adorable look of guilt and self-loathing was plain on his face as his cheeks colored.

"Sara?" he stammered.

"Who else?" she asked and nodded toward the screen. "You were having a good time pulling on your cock, weren't you?"

His blush deepened but he didn't deny it. There was no denying it.

"What was your favorite part," she whispered, her lips against his ear, cheek rubbing sensually against his, and her hand in his hair. "Was it when Jason held me in place? Or when his friends made your little girl say those awful things and beg to suck their cocks?"

"This... it's not right," he whispered back, but his hand tightened on her ass.

"I know," she said mockingly. "It's so awful to be a filthy, daughter-lusting pervert. That's what you like, though, right? You like to put your cock in teenage girls. Girls like Bethany."

His body trembled and, if it were possible, he reddened further and looked away. However, that only made him look at the sight of his daughter's cock-stuffed face.

"You remember Bethany, don't you?"

"Of course," he said, his voice heavy with guilt and regret.

Sara rocked her pussy against him and continued to toy with his hair.

"You'll never forget her. You had so much fun pushing your dick into my friend, didn't you? It felt so good to fuck her and call her all those dirty names, the names that mom didn't like, right?"

"Stop," he growled, a hint of anger breaking through the guilt.

"It's okay," Sara said soothingly, her hand moving from his hair to cup his cheek, turning his gaze to meet hers. "Everything's better now that she's gone, isn't it? You don't have to pretend you're not a pussy-loving pervert anymore."

"Please, stop it," he begged, his anger flagging in the face of the accusation.

"Stop? Stop this?" she teased with an evil smirk and ground her cunt against his returning erection. "Is Princess being mean to you again? Are you going to do something you might regret?"

"No," he croaked.

"You did it to Bethany and you didn't love her, right?"

"It wasn't... like that and you know it."

"No. She teased you so badly and you just couldn't hold out. She threw her pussy at you and you took it. You held her down and you made my friend love it so much that she told Mom, didn't she?"

The anguish and guilt clouded his face and he nodded, but his hand slid into the leg of her shorts and he ran it over Sara's ass.

"You see?" she said, dropping her head to whisper into his ear as he touched her. "That's what you want. You wouldn't do it to me, so you did it to my friend. Only, you can do it to me, can't you?"

"Don't, please," he pleaded, but his voice was hot and husky.

"I believe in you, Daddy. I know you can do it. You can break into my room at night and hold me down. It would be so easy. You're so much bigger. You can just hit me and make me cry. That's all you have to do."

"Sara..."

His dick was fully hard now. The only thing between it and her pussy was two layers of cloth. Sara rocked her cunt against him, grinding his erection into her.

"That's all it would take, daddy. You can fuck your princess every night if you just do it. I know you can. Just rape me. Make me cry."

"Oh, god! Don't!" he croaked, his dick jerking under her.

"Say you'll do it to me, Daddy," she continued, kissing his neck, "Just make me do it. Oh, Daddy, it would feel so good to make your princess cry. It would feel so good to push your dick into her and watch her struggle."

"I... I can't... I'm..." he jabbered, his mind seemingly overloaded with confusion and arousal.

"It's going to feel so good for you when you just rape me, Daddy!"

A tear actually rolled from his tightly shut eyes as he jerked, groaned, and came in his pants while Sara laughed. She pushed her lips against his again, kissing hard as she continued to hump his spurting cock. She let him wallow in his misery for only a moment and then added to it as she made him look her in her eyes.

"You're going to fail," she said, then put a quick peck on his lips, leaped from the couch skillfully, and stalked from the room.