Mop Man and Pom-Pom Girl Ch. 01-03

Dear Reader,

Be forewarned, these are the ramblings of a horny depraved pervert.

If you are looking for any form of realism please skip this story.

In the following pages Lara will be stripped forcefully and compelled to run naked in the halls of her college campus. She will be rescued by the school janitor but is he friend or foe?

Lara's misadventures begin.

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Chapter 1 - Stripped and Trapped

Lara had it coming!

She knew it.

She was in this mess all of her own doing.

She had only herself to blame as she ran naked down the halls of the empty building.

She had to face the fact that you can only be a mega bitch for so long.

For months now, as the small community college's cheerleader's squad captain, she had antagonized all the girls on the team.

No one had been spared.

And today, she had done it once again.

Despite the euphoric thrill of the home team's win, she had imposed a rehearsal after the game on a Friday evening.

It was all because of her perfectionist nature. She needed everything to be flawless and unfortunately that afternoon, she had observed a few snafus during the basketball game.

Her OCD had kicked in and she forced the team into the rehearsal studio after everyone had left the building.

There was a little carrot to keep the troops in line... her parents were out of town, and she dangled plans for a wild pool party the following day to motivate the girls.

She thought that luring them with an invite to the "end of the summer bash" would have been enough motivation for the girls. She needed their undivided attention and full cooperation and thought that partying with barely dressed boys would help sweeten the deal.

So, she mercilessly made them repeat the routines over and over again, and the last drill was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

It was Friday night and the girls wanted to relax, they were tired and cranky; and the team had won the game after all! It was time to celebrate!

And so, they had ganged up on her verbally and, when Lara had tried to seize hold of the situation by slapping the spokesperson of this mutiny, that's when things turned from bad to worst.

They jumped her, formed a circle around her, and began slapping her. They began pulling at her as they pushed her around. At first, Lara tried to defend herself but the few hits she landed ended up fueling their anger. There was no real intention or meaning to their movements. They were just an uncoordinated group venting their anger haphazardly.

Then one of the girls latched onto Lara's cheerleader sweater, then another and another and so on and so forth. The material was not meant to be tugged that way. When it ripped and her bra was exposed, Lara lost her cool. She began panicking and screaming in fear.

Suddenly, the group of girls realized that they had finally found a weak point. They had broken through the tough shell and the reaction that they got out of their mean leader motivated them to continue. They all looked at each other knowingly. They were going to teach her a lesson.

The mob had found their meaning and purpose. They all stepped closer, reached in and snatched at her cloths. In a matter of a few seconds, they ripped everything off stripping her completely.

Then, they kicked her out of the rehearsal space with nothing on but her shoes and socks.

Imagine that!

Being butt naked in an otherwise empty (or so she thought) and silent campus building was terrifying and for a time she banged on the door to be let back in.

"Open up!...

Girls!...

Let me in!...

Ha ha!...

You had your fun!...

Let me in!...

Come on!...

This isn't funny anymore!" she screamed through the door and pleaded with them to no avail.

It went on for a few minutes that felt like an eternity.

Then, the screech of a squeaky wheel made her jump.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dirty, yellow, old maintenance bucket make its way into view and, in an instant, she was face-to-face with Frankie.

The two stood there in shock.

Time stopped.

There he was in his ever-filthy tank top and kaki shorts.

There she was; naked like a Greek goddess with alabaster skin in front of the crazy, older, lanky, brown-skinned janitor that she had ridiculed for so many years. The contrast could not have been starker.

Lara was no angel.

She had taunted him too many times to count over the years and now this sudden reversal of fortune was staggering.

They stared at each other, wide-eyed, in silence, motionless.

The girls behind the locked door could be heard laughing and cheering.

Then, the man started moving. He turned, reaching around for something that she could not see in the cart he had been pulling along behind him.

She bolted in panic!

She ran, and ran, and ran some more. All the while, she blamed herself for having been such a diva, such a bitchy Prima Dona.

She ran like a headless chicken down the dark corridors bumping from one locked door to the next, seeking shelter.

Frankie was stopped in his tracks when he turned around with the tarp.

"Where was the naked girl going? Didn't she want something to cover-up with?" he stood befuddled.

By the time he set himself in motion to follow her, she had turned a corner and disappeared.

He could not see where she was headed, but by all means she would be getting herself into worse trouble and he knew it. He would have to find her. She was headed in the wrong direction towards the athletic wing and the boys' locker rooms. He had a bad feeling about it.

Lara kept on running aimlessly, hoping to find refuge from this humiliating situation.

It was bad enough to be out in her birthday suit, but to be naked in front of that guy! Could it get any worse?

That was the thought process that went through her mind as she fled.

"Finally!" she screamed ecstatic as a door opened up and she jumped into the room.

The relief was short lived.

She had not taken the time to read the sign on the door and in an instant her heart sank.

She was standing in the center of the visiting boys' locker room.

The losing opponents were dressed but were still doing the autopsy of their defeat.

Ten tall teenagers or more were surrounding her in silence.

She tried to cover up. She even tried to run but another circle had tightened around her.

"My, oh my!" the burly coach spoke up.

"I think the pig slut head cheerleader is lost," he commented.

Lara squirmed, unable to speak.

She was valiantly trying to hide her nudity with her hands and arms, but her generous feminine charms could not be easily hidden.

She was tall, slender and extremely fit, but nature had rewarded her with a curvaceous bubble butt and scrumptious c-cup tits that she could not manage to cover-up from the masculine stares.

She stood there, naked except for her socks and sneakers, in front of a group of angry men.

She could sense their animosity towards her, and her exposed bits and vulnerability did nothing to alleviate the wrath that was rising in the room.

Why had she taunted them so much earlier? Why had she been so snarky and so demeaning?

There was not a single shred of compassion to be found. There was no empathy for her state of alarm in their eyes.

She was trapped behind enemy lines.

Dread and despair washed over her.

"What's the matter? Slut! Cat gotcha' tongue?" continued the older man who was in his late thirties.

"You give yourself to your team after every game?

Or is it only when they win?

Is that why you were so fired up earlier?

Were you afraid that you would not get your freak on?" he asked rhetorically as he paced and circled around her.

Lara's humiliation rose tenfold.

Her face was burning, tears started pooling in her eyes.

"N...nn... no," she tried to speak up, but she was stuck. Her throat was dry, and the words would not come out.

Suddenly, the coach reached with both hands beneath her armpits from behind and lifted her high in the air.

"Shut up!" he screamed.

"Pig sluts don't talk!" he lectured.

Lara floated above the group, feeling even more exposed and helpless.

"You know what I used to do to pigs on my farm?" he asked the congregated teens.

"I hogtied them!"

"Yeah!" erupted the group in unison.

"Here! Girl! Extend your arms above your head and grab onto that beam," he ordered as he lifted her towards the exposed metal beam above her.

The girl stayed motionless, mortified.

He dropped her and she fell to the ground on all fours. He spanked her hard repeatedly on the butt, knocking the wind out of her.

"Ouch!" Lara reared up and tried to protect for her bum with her hands, stunned.

Swiftly, the coach grabbed her and lifted her above his head once again.

"Girl! Grab onto that beam now! ...before I wallop your butt again," he yelled.

Mortified, Lara obeyed as the steady flow of tears blurred her vision.

"Remove her shoes and socks!" he ordered.

Two faceless young men grabbed her legs and stripped the remaining layers of clothing off.

Then, the coach lifted her by the hips and bent her up, towards the beam.

"Now grab the beam with your feet," he instructed.

Lara once again hesitated. The fact that she was no longer wearing any shoes made her feel even more nude and exposed for some reason.

"Ouch!" she shouted again as the man pinched her at the waist forcefully.

He was assertive and clearly angry.

"Don't try my patience," he advised.

The girl once again obeyed.

"Yeah!" cheered the group once again.

She was now suspended with her blond mane dangling down.

An image flashed through Lara's mind. She was reminded of old adventure movies where wild native tribes would capture lost explorers and carry them like wild game on a spit.

Except that in her case, she was completely nude and hanging so much higher in the air. Her intimate parts were at eye level with the basketball players.

Lara was bewildered. She had never known this type of humiliation in her life.

She had emotionally tortured so many innocent souls. She had bullied her way through Elementary School, Middle School, High School and College without impunity and now the shoe was finally on the other foot.

In that position, suspended like a piece of quartered carcass, she felt as if she was losing herself.

In that position, all her intimate parts were exposed.

"Look at her holes," commented one of the players.

"Dude!" interjected another, "I think she is wet!"

"I swear, she is getting off on this," said a third.

At these words, Lara let out a gasp.

The shame became like a piece of heated iron scorching her flesh.

"They were right!" her mind screamed in panic.

Why was her body responding this way? Was she one of these people that would get turned on by this terrible humiliation?

She could feel the dampness oozing past her swollen lips. In that moment, she regretted being essentially bare down there. Except for a small heart shaped patch of blond hair above her clitoral hood, she was as bare as a newborn.

She had read about folks who thrived from being mistreated this way. She thought it was all made up poppycock ...but was she enjoying this?

She did not have any answer to these questions.

She just knew that her sex was very wet... so wet that her tormentors could clearly see it. Her brain was in turmoil as she felt the waves of liquid heat flowing through her body. She was flush with excitement. Her nipples were taught and erect and they could tell how excited she was!

Her nerves were on edge and every sensation, including the debilitating degradation, seemed to be amplified as if on steroids.

She needed to get out of this situation before things got worse.

What terrified her the most wasn't just the continuing disgrace. What racked her soul was the twisted realization that, on some level, she might be enjoying this and that her captors were witnessing it.

She felt betrayed and deeply tormented by her own physiological response.

What would happen if they touched her sex? Would they eventually "steal" and coerce an orgasm out of her? It would clearly be without her consent. She did not want to find out how her body would react at their hands.

She did not want to know that sensation, but as she felt hotter and hotter that probable outcome was becoming a real possibility.

As the minutes passed, her excitement grew.

She could feel the quickening of her heartbeat in her throbbing clit. She had never been so aware of the heat and wetness of her sex.

She dreaded the thought of a public orgasm.

Yet, that very degradation was like a vicious never-ending self-feeding cycle. The scorching fire of her disgrace fanned the flames her arousal. The more her excitement grew the bigger the shame, the bigger the shame, the more excited she got.

In her chaotic state of mind, this condition was giving an entire new dimension to the meaning of depravity.

"Please... please... let me go!" she tried to plead once again.

"Boys, I think this little piggy is just too dumb. She won't shut up."

The man pointed to the bag of snacks sitting on one of the benches.

"Jim, hand me one of them small red apples," he ordered.

"Open up piggy!" he forced her jaw open and stuffed a bite sized fruit in her mouth.

"That should keep you quiet while we play," he said as he looked into her tear-filled eyes.

"Boys! let's take a few pictures." he said to some of the guys who were holding up their cell phones.

Lara's eyes opened like saucers communicating her despair. She shook her head wildly from side to side.

"Aw!

Piggy here doesn't want pics.

...and she is going to do exactly what we want because, otherwise, we are going to ruin her rep.

Is that right piggy?" he asked.

Lara did not hesitate.

She bobbed her head up-and-down affirmatively. The thought that pics or videos could end up being seen by her classmates, her parents, her community gripped her existence in fear.

The team lowered their cell phones at the request of the coach. He then went around the room making sure that no one had kept any incriminating evidence.

"Anyone brought condoms?" he inquired after the inspection.

Everyone looked around the room.

"No?

That's ok. We are not rapists!

...I would not go "raw" with any slut who jumps naked into a boys' locker room anyway...

...and honestly this ice queen is just not doing it for me.

It's a shame... really... to waste such beauty on such a repulsive personality...

Let's play a little game instead."

He turned to his crew trying to collect his thoughts.

"Do you like piñatas?" he asked.

It was a bit childish, but the group bobbed their heads affirmatively.

"We're gonna to teach miss piggy a lesson," he said with the best hick accent of his youth he could muster.

"She at least deserves a good spanking. Right?" he followed with his regular voice.

The group bobbed their heads in unison.

"Let's take turns.

We each get three smacks and if she releases the beam you win," he declared with a smile.

Then he reached for a little banana.

"And whoever wins, gets to stuff this itsy-bitsy banana into her wet hole," he concluded triumphantly.

Lara's eyes shot wide open in horror. The terror of possibly having all these pics online had fed the flame of her uncontrollable sexual excitement. A banana would definitely seal the deal! She could not let them play with her overexcited sex! She would come on that fruit like a wanton nymphomaniac. She clamped her hands and feet and would never let go of that beam!

This could not be happening!

But, it was!

The boys started lining up and "SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!" the first series of hits began peppering her buttock.

She held on for dear life. Her many years spent as a gymnast proving useful.

"SPANK!..."

"Oh, No!" she thought.

The next guy was not aiming on the side of her butt-cheeks like the previous guys but in the center, and his hand nearly touched her exposed pussy.

"SPANK!"

"Oh, please! Dear Lord! If he gets any closer, he will slap my soaking pussy!" her brain screamed in panic.

"SPANK!"

"Humph!" she shouted through her makeshift fruity gag.

She was not prepared for such a forceful slap on her very sensitive parts.

The young man stood in silence staring at his wet fingertips.

"Dudes!" he shouted.

"You wouldn't...".

"BOOM!" he was interrupted mid-sentence. 

Chapter 2 - Rescued

"PSHIT!"A smoke bomb was thrown into the room and hissed at their feet.

It quickly filled the room.

"COUGH! COUGH!"

Instantly, the room became unbreathable and the boys scampered out through the emergency exit.

For some reason, the alarm did not go off.

Then, Frankie, his head covered with a gas mask, his body covered with thick coveralls jumped into the room through a side-door.

He jumped on the smoke bomb and dropped it in a large trash can which he had filled with water. He then covered with a tight lid.

Once it was secured, he closed the emergency exit left open by the basketball team and ran towards Lara.

She was still holding onto the beam; still tetanized by the fear of being raped by a fruit.

At first, she would not let go but her need for air eventually made her release the beam.

Frankie brought her down to the floor and grabbed her by the hand and quickly lead her out of the room.

They began a quick escape through the labyrinth of corridors but, in the frenzy of the run, Lara slid on a slippery wet floor and fell at Frankie's feet.

She was on her knees with her torso and head laid flat on the ground. She was struggling to catch her breath with her butt-naked ass in the air.

"Oh my!" he turned his head embarrassed.

So much of her intimate parts were exposed! It was graphic!

As she struggled to stand up, she gave him the wildest of shows.

Barefoot, she could not get any traction and kept slipping back to the floor as she coughed.

Her face and tits kept on sliding against the cold soapy red linoleum tiles that had been recently washed.

The poor girl was in such a mess and her panic increased at the thought that the basketball team might be running after her.

"Could Frankie handle them all?" she thought as she struggled to get up.

The janitor finally grabbed her by the hips and helped her to her feet.

His big, strong, rough hands felt reassuring somehow. She looked down and was struck by the contrast of her smooth ivory skin with his wrinkly sun stained hairy hand. His grip felt comforting.

She felt safe for the first time that evening and she began to see him in a new light.

Frankie then opened up a dirty utility tarp that he had brought along in his backpack and enrobed her in it from head to toe.

The girl was still so wobbly and unsteady on her feet that he picked her up and put her over his shoulder.

"We have to hurry, we have to hurry, we have to hurry," he mumbled as he carried her away briskly towards the engineering wing of the college.

Lara did not know what was going on. She was confused and a bit groggy from the smoke she had inhaled.

She apprehended what would happen next. She was still completely nude, still so very defenseless.

Where were they headed? The procession through the empty halls seemed to last forever.

Frankie set her down on her feet and unfurled the tarp.

He quickly stepped out of the chemically laced coveralls and tossed them in a trash can.

Lara stumbled and tried to cover herself.

The brightness of the neon light was harsh on her eyes and she squinted as she waited for them to adjust.

Lara needed a few seconds to get her bearings.

"Wash, wash, wash!" Frankie began repeating under his breath.

Lara turned pale when she finally realized that she was alone with him in a utility closet. The room was mostly bare except for a couple of shelves filled with various cleaning products and a massive deep, metal, utility slap sink was sitting in a corner of that space.