Slave to My Older Sisters Ch. 03

"What's up, first baseman?" the mysterious text buzzed onto my phone, obviously referring to my prominent role on one of the school's teams. I was chillaxing in the bleachers with a few buddies when it happened.

"Nada," I texted. "Who is this?"

"Just some female admirers," came the response, which immediately made me feel good, but then came "You're a dirty boy with an embarrassing secret, aren't you, first baseman? Do Mike, Kyle and Josh know?"

Whoever this was clearly knew me well cause she (or they) named my friends sitting with me by name. I immediately scanned the crowd but couldn't identify anyone looking at me. And I wasn't sure what embarrassing secret she was referring to, since I was confident no one knew about my slavery at home.

"I'm not embarrassed to say I shower every morning," I texted back calmly, calling her bluff.

"Lol. You're so cute. You have female admirers here, but you're not very nice to us."

"How so?"

"You don't give us the respect we deserve just because you're an athlete, but you feel badly about that, don't you, first baseman? You're going to change your behavior starting right now."

"What's up?" Kyle said to me, apparently noticing my intense expression and distraction from the game.

"Oh, uh, nothing. Looks like the Steelers are crashing and burning. That's it. Haha."

I didn't like the tone of these texts one bit, particularly after my sisters and mother taught me how strategic females can be. "What do you expect me to do?" I texted back, afraid to ask what she knew about me.

"First. Lift up your shirt and show us your pecs and abs. Hold it up so we get a good look."

WTF? My heart began pounding. "And if I don't?" I replied.

"Then your secret goes on the school's Instagram page right now."

I had no way of knowing what she had on me, and I was terrified to find out. "Damn, it's kinda hot," I said stupidly to Mike, since I t wasn't hot at all. I lifted my shirt up and wiped my brow over and over, making sure the texter got a good long view.

"Are you having a hot flash dude?" he laughed.

"Yea, from the cheerleaders," I said.

My phone buzzed with a text. "Good boy," it said along with a photo of me holding up my shirt. "You like exposing yourself, don't you?"

"Not particularly," I said, telling the truth. "Who the fuck is this?" I was now angry and afraid.

"You will call me Goddess, because that's what I am to you. As long as you're obedient, I'll protect you. I won't let anything threaten a future athletic scholarship for my property. I want to own you when you're a professional baseball player."

I started to sweat and feel panicked. Whoever the fuck this goddess bitch was, she was hitting on my biggest vulnerability and terrifying the fuck out of me.

"K, Goddess," I texted back meekly. I tried to memorize every face in the crowd as a suspect, but there were just too many. I didn't get another text for the rest of the day, but my stomach remained queasy.

I had started to hope the texter had gone away permanently when the a text arrived Saturday afternoon. It was annoyingly chipper. "Hi first baseman!"

My heart sunk. "What's up, Goddess?" I responded.

"You're invited to a party tonight at 9:00 pm. There will be a lot of people there you know who will be happy to see you. Wear all your baseball gear and have fun." It gave me an address across town.

"Will you be there?" I asked.

"Maybe. :)"

I didn't like the sound of this, but I was eager to see who was texting me and decided to go.

When I arrived at the house, I could see lights on inside and hear music and voices. There was clearly a party taking place which made me feel better. In fact, I was starting to think it was a surprise party in my honor hosted by the guys on the baseball team who were just fucking with me through the anonymous texts.

I rang the bell, the door opened, and I stepped inside. To my shock, the house was filled with all women - every one of my female teachers from my high school! For a moment, they all looked at me with the same shock and then burst into laughter and applause as though they had just gotten the answer to a question that had been on their minds. Some even nodded to each other appearing to say, "See, I told you it was him."

Immediately, Mrs. Cooper, my math teacher, pulled me into the crowded, noisy and extremely welcoming room by my arm. "My, my," she said with a mischievous grin, looking me up and down and tugging on the brim of my ball cap. "This is quite a surprise, Ben, you dirty little boy. You dressed perfectly for the occasion. Did you bring your bat and balls? Hahaha!"

Her facial expression and joke creeped me out, but before I could respond, she put a plastic cup to my lips and told me to have a drink. I politely gulped it down - assuming it was soda, and I was thirsty as hell - and then nearly coughed it up after six ounces of straight vodka burned my throat. WTF was that?!

As I was being pulled farther into the room by smiling and happy women I knew all too well, throbbing disco-type music fired up and I realized what was happening - THEY THINK I'M THEIR FUCKING STRIPPER!! I tried my best to politely decline their touchy advances to dance, particularly since many of them were still in control of my grades, but they didn't seem to hear or believe me. I wanted to say, "you know I'm just 18 and your student, right?"

Suddenly, I felt two hands grab my jersey from behind and pull it over my head in one quick motion as I was trying delicately to stop Ms. Adams, the librarian, from repeatedly squeezing my crotch. Once I was shirtless, a cheer went up from the crowd as though the party had officially started, and the women became even more aggressive. The room smelled like pussy in heat.

Hands disconnected from smiling faces seemed to come out of nowhere from all around to feel up my back and abs and twist my nipples. "Ouch! Stop..please," I pleaded politely and respectfully, but they seemed to think it was all part of the act. And to make matters worse, the vodka was kicking in hard and making me weak, my vision blurry, and my words slurred.

"I've ALWAYS wanted to see YOU naked!" my English teacher cooed. "You have the hottest butt of any boy in the class. I always take a good long look at it when I call you to the blackboard." She then reached around and gave my ass a hard squeeze.

"Are you going to earn some extra credit?" my science teacher asked as she drunkenly unsnapped the front of my baseball pants while I tried to fend her off. "What are you hiding in here, Benny? Doesn't your little penis want to come out and play?"

"You've been a naughty boy who needs to be punished," Mrs. Edwards, the principal, threatened as someone from behind me wrestled my pants all the way down to the ground as I held back the librarian.

I was now swooning woozily in the middle of my female teachers in just an old fashioned white Bike jock strap with my pants bunched up around my cleats and my buns totally exposed. Hands that had been on my back, chest, abs and nipples grabbed and slapped my butt cheeks and the cotton pouch of my jock. The same hands grabbed the elastic waist and leg bands of my jock and sent them snapping against my body.

SNAP! "Hey!" Laughter. SNAP! "Stop it!" More laughter.

Fingers were sliding between my ass cheeks and probing for my butthole, tickling and trying to push inside of it. I tried batting them away and squeezing my sphincter hard.

"THTOP! NOOOO!" I slurred, finding it difficult to speak, stand or even see clearly. I kept trying to bat away the hands, but it was like playing whack-a-mole. Just as I stopped one from twisting my nipple, another would be pinching my butt while another was yanking on my scrotum.

"Get over here, bad boy!" I heard a voice say just as hands pushed me forward from behind. I stumbled on the uniform bunched around my ankles and fell forward, guided by several hands across the lap of the principal. Before I could breath a sigh of relief at not falling flat on my face, a palm slapped down hard on my right butt cheek. SMACK!! I yelped from the sting and tried to get up but was too drunk to resist the hands holding me in place.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "You are one bad little boy!" Lots of laughter. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Little boys like to be punished, don't they?" More laughter.

The strikes came fast and furious as my ass was being spanked in front of all my female teachers who were laughing and reaching in to deliver spanks of their own. At several points, the spanking stopped and hands held my ass cheeks wide open for women to get a clear look at my butthole before resuming the beating.

"THTOP! THTOP!" I screamed from my drunken fog as I tried in vain to reach back and protect my glutes from a beating that now hurt like hell and hide my asshole from my female teachers' studious gaze. I'm sure I looked like a little boy squirming and protesting with my jockstrap-framed butt reddened and sticking up in the air over the principal's knee.

For a moment, my mind cleared just long enough to realize the teachers had their phones out and were recording... and I felt violated and humiliated.

After a while (I lost all sense of time), I was pulled off Mrs. Edwards' lap and guided gently but forcefully to the floor and onto my back. My ass mounds were on fire, and I felt hands untying my shoes and pulling them off one at a time along with my socks and then my pants.

"NNNOOOO! NNNNOOOO!" I yelled pointlessly as hands grabbed the thick waist band of my jockstrap and pulled it down and off in one quick motion. I could hear a cheer from the women as I was now totally naked, writhing on the floor trying to escape, while my soft cut cock and floppy balls rolled around between my legs in full view of each and every one of my female teachers. Hand after hand reached in and tugged on my penis and fondled my balls. Hands prevented me from bringing my knees together, ensuring my legs stayed open wide enough for many other hands to play with my meat.

"OUCH! THTOOOP!" I yelled as two hands gripped my nuts at the same time and pulled them in opposite directions. Phones moved in for close up pics and vids of my face, chest, abs and genitals.

"WHA AR YOU DOIN?!" I yelled as two women gripped my ankles and pulled them open and up to my head, raising my ass slightly in the air and putting me in the most embarrassing and exposed position of all time. My entire body tensed as a thick and greasy finger invaded my asshole, twisting and probing inside me. I could hear women offering words of encouragement like "use three fingers!" and "don't be afraid to be rough!"

I tried to break free but was held tightly in place.

"He wants it sooo badly," I remember Mrs. Jackson, the history teacher, saying casually to someone beside her.

I then felt a large object - a dildo!! - probing for my anal opening. It quickly moved into position just before thrusting its entire thick length deep into my shit chute. I heard myself scream like a banshee as my asshole felt like it had been hit with a blowtorch and stretched in all directions from the inside.

"Shhhh...just relax and take it like a man," a female voice whispered in my ear. I think it was the voice of my Spanish teacher last year.

Immediately, the dildo began a pistoning action in and out of my aching butthole. 10 inches out, 10 inches in, 10 inches out, 10 inches in.

My clouded mind darted between my arms being pinned down, to my ankles being held up and open, to hands fondling and pinching my nipples, cock and balls, to my asshole being pummeled. No sooner had the 10-incher snaked out of my butt for a few seconds of relief then another of a different shape and size took its place, battering away at my guts. This one felt just as long and thick as the first one but with a weird curve and deep ridges that assaulted different parts of my rectum.

"I'm being fucking gangraped!" I thought in disbelief as the lights grew dim from a pair of legs closing in on my face. I don't know whose... but a pussy was now sitting hard against my mouth as a voice commanded into my left ear that I lick it, clean it. I dutifully obeyed, running my tongue flatly and firmly against the fleshy lips and clit and tasting the juices that were creaming all around my nose, jaws and chin. I felt the legs quiver as a torrent of cunt juice squirted into my mouth, and I almost choked on the unbelievable amount. I swallowed it all down and then gasped for fresh air as she stood up, only to be replaced immediately by another pussy on my mouth demanding the same attention. In some cases, the hips sat forward on my face and my tongue encountered an anus, rather than a pussy. It was always more sour and pungent in flavor, and I found myself recoiling, only to have my nuts yanked and twisted until my tongue obediently dug and probed deep in her shitter for as long as she wanted.

For a few seconds here and there, my mental focus on the pussy or ass I was eating would make me forget about the rubber dicks painfully nailing my butt. And at some point, I simply stopped struggling and settled into a routine of servicing one pussy and anus after another with my mouth and one rubber dick after another with my ass while women's voices and laughter and loud disco music filled my ears.

I even vaguely remember someone pouring vodka down her cunt and into my mouth, which is probably what made me black out. When I woke up, I was sitting fully clothed in the backseat of my car where I had parked a block away, and the clock on my dashboard blinked 5:30 am. I slowly sat up taking account of myself. My head throbbed from a hangover, my nipples were so sore I took off my shirt for the drive home, my ass cheeks still stung, and my butt hole felt, well, disturbingly wide open. I also discovered that my jockstrap was missing, likely a souvenir or trophy on a wall with my photos somewhere. On the seat beside me, I found an envelope containing an outrageous note warning me that my continued engagement in stripping/prostitution and sexist behavior could have me expelled from school and that I should report to the office of Mrs. Edwards (the spanker) on Monday for punishment.

"Fuck!" I yelled as I crinkled up the note, slammed my fists onto the seat, and threw the note onto the floor. I fired up the ignition in a huff and headed home. Fortunately, I had adequate time to get back, shower and clean myself up, make breakfast for my mother and sisters, and wait buck naked on the floor of the kitchen to greet and serve them.

"You did really well, first baseman," the next text from Goddess said. "Did you have fun? You got rave reviews."

My heart pounded and my blood boiled. "No," I texted back, not wanting to even relive it mentally.

"I don't believe you. In any case, don't fight your punishment tomorrow. Your sports career is too important."

I didn't text back. She pissed me off, because she was right.

The next day, I was called to Mrs. Edwards' office, and I was mad as hell and extremely embarrassed. I figured she'd be embarrassed, too. When I entered the room, I was surprised to see three other teachers there from that night. They all looked stern and menacing.

"Come in, Ben," Mrs. Edwards said firmly. "Sit down. Let's get right to the point. We're all pretty upset with your, quite frankly, disgusting behavior on Saturday."

Disgusting?! MYbehavior?! "BUT I DIDN'T EVEN WANT...!!"

"DON'T SPEAK, YOUNG MAN! You're in enough trouble as is. As you'll recall, you invaded our teachers' planning and knitting meeting drunk and uninvited, stripped naked, made sexist and rude comments and gestures and then passed out on the floor like an animal. And we have photos to corroborate the eyewitness accounts of every single upstanding female teacher at this school! Do you really think anyone will believe your lies?"

I was dumbfounded, because the crazy bitch was lying and totally right. No one would ever believe me. I was fucked again. Fucked!

"Ben. We all know you have a chance at a promising baseball scholarship, and we don't want this one evening of poor judgement to derail it. We can keep it quiet and handle it ourselves as long as you sign this statement admitting your guilt and submit to a small punishment."

I read through the statement and began trembling with rage as it detailed the totally bullshit story they just described. But knowing my balls were in a vice, I scribbled my name and then, losing control, threw the pain angrily against the floor. My chest heaved with angry and deep breaths. I was so humiliated and powerless, I had to restrain myself from punching a wall.

"Good boy, Ben," Mrs. Edwards smiled. "Little boys are soooo sexy when they're angry. All that testosterone just surges through those low hanging balls you made each and every one of us fondle on Saturday night." She then circled her fingernail around the pouch of my jeans. "Is that circumcised penis of yours with the pink head and dark circumcision ring just an inch below it hardening yet? If it isn't, it will be soon. Your punishment begins right away."

To be continued...