Revenge of the Girls

Highschool can be a bitch, sometimes. More specifically, the people at highschool can be bitches. Take the story of Alicia Barnes, for example–seventeen years old, 5’6″, with 30-inch breasts that were barely hidden beneath the tank tops she wore every day. No one would really call Alicia a slut; but it was the cheerleaders who always bullied Alicia and her friends, who all had smaller breast sizes. Alicia was like the guardian angel for her friends; although they were all hot girls, their breast sizes turned men off, and rumors spread around school that they had never masturbated, ever. Although Alicia had tried to help them, hooking them up with desperate guys and even going so far as to rub their pussies for them, they never seemed to be able to agree with sexual norms, and were deemed outcasts by the sexually active popular girls.
The day that brought Alicia to the edge was the regional semifinals, in which her school’s football team was facing off against another regional semifinalist, from a town quite a distance away. Alicia and her four friends (Madylyn, Jessica, Amy, and Florence) were working off detention hours by cleaning up the girls’ locker rooms. As the five girls swept, dusted, and mopped, the cheerleader squad marched into the room, dressed in their low-cut tank tops and barely concealing shorts. Although Alicia and her friends didn’t notice it, the ten girls surrounded them, waiting for notice. Alicia found herself in someone else’s shadow; she stood up, only to find herself facing the head of the cheer squad, Mara, the queen bitch of the school.
“Er…”
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Alicia, the little slut that could,” Mara sneered, referring to the time when Alicia was able to handle Tom Brady, the school’s hardest fucker.
The other cheergirls sneered in turn, but Alicia ignored them. That is, until Mara grabbed her by the hair, and slammed her down onto one of the wooden benches. Alicia blacked out momentarily; the force of the impact lanced through her back, temporarily stunning her; Mara pulled her by the ponytail again, and forced her to lay over the bench, her stomach flat on the wood. The other cheerleaders did the same, dragging the other girls, who had begun screaming and protesting, and flopping them flat onto the wooden bench.
“What the hell…” Alicia groaned, but she was cut off as she felt a smart slap across her cheek.
“Bitch,” Mara sneered, and slapped her again. “Listen, we cheer girls get real horny before our performances. And the guys are all getting geared up in their locker room, so…”
With that cue, Mara slipped Alicia’s pants down her legs, and then her panties. The other cheer girls proceeded to do so, stripping the other, shy girls nude. They were too terrified to protest; in fear, they looked to Alicia for help, but Alicia could do nothing; she was pinned down by Mara and another girl, a brunette she didn’t know.
“Grab the box,” Mara ordered, and a blonde girl with enormous breasts grabbed a cardboard box and pulled out ten strap-ons, handing one to each cheerleader. The cheerleaders, giggling with delight, slipped the strap-ons up to their crotch, and positioned themselves to the other girls asses. Alicia began to feel the pain herself as Mara, with an enormous black strap on, began to fuck her wildly in the ass, driving the plastic tube up as deep as she could. Although the pain began to become unbearable, Alicia attempted to withstand it, retaining a stoic expression as she watched the others girls fucked, pity shining in her eyes; they had never had this kind of treatment before, and some of them began to cry with the pain. The cheergirls only laughed; as soon as they had five minutes with the strap-ons, the other girls took their turns, and Mara fucked Alicia again. She withstood the pain, but barely; by the time Mara was done, she could feel warm blood trickling from her asshole, down her cheeks, and she could barely get up and sit down by the lockers as commanded, where a young blonde tied their hands behind their backs and gagged them with ball gags. All of the girls, except for young Jessica, were tied up and sat against the lockers. Mara herself approached Jessica, whose hands were bound with duct tape, and looked her in the eye, gazing terribly down at the terrified, whimpering girl.
“Jessica? Is that your name?”
The girl did not answer. A smart slap across the cheek came.
“I asked you a question, bitch. Is your name Jessica?”
The girl whimpered an answer. Mara began to smile devilishly, and turned to the other girls, cheerleaders and victims.
“I hear talk, rumors, that Jessica has never came before. I think it’s time we give her a good fun time.” As Mara sneered, the other girls laughed, their eyes shining with a devilish gleam as as Mara reached into the box and pulled out a massive dildo, much larger than Jessica’s small, tight pussy. The young began to scream, but Mara shoved a balled-up pair of panties in her mouth, silencing her.
“This won’t hurt a bit…well, maybe just a little…”

The next day, Alicia, her asshole sore and red from yesterday’s torture, prepared for the last period of the day. She did not see Jessica that day; however, Madylyn and Amy approached her. Their expressions were not radiant as usual; they were downcast and upset, even more than when they were normally bullied. As Alicia noticed them walk up to her locker, she closed the door, and turned to her friends.
“Madylyn. Amy. Sorry about letting that happen yesterday, I shoulda stopped it–”
“Alicia. Jessica’s dead.”
The shock stuck Alicia deep down. She stopped midsentence as the words penetrated her; the world began to swirl; she fell back against the locker for support.
“But–”
“She committed sucide yesterday. In such a deep state of misery and pain that she shot herself. Clean shot, too; right through the temple,” Madylyn said. Tears began welling up in her eyes. She turned away, and began to cry quietly. Alicia felt like weeping; Jessica had been a dear friend. But it was not the time for tears.
“I’m sorry–”
“No. Don’t be sorry.”
Madylyn was surprised by Alicia’s firm tone. The former turned around, facing her friend, who wore an extremely austere look.
“Wh–what?”
“We’re not going to let this go. It’s time for payback, not just for now, but for all the months, years, we’ve been under the heels of those sluts.”
“Alicia…what are you saying?”
But Alicia said no more. She walked away, ignoring the fact that the bell was ringing for her next class. It was time to formulate a plan, and quickly. The final game was the next night, and she had a plan to take care of the cheerleaders before then.

The inner city was no place for a sexy, white chick like Alicia, especially one with huge breasts. But when that chick possessed ten pounds of pure, grade A cocaine in a plastic bag and a fully loaded Glock 21 at her side, that changed things. Alicia’s father was a policeman; it was simple, the first part of her revenge plan. She got Tom Brady in; she knew where the Pajillos had one of their hideouts. It was only a matter of getting them to do the trade, and then the plan was set. As she approached the dilapadated townhouse, she felt a sense of apprehension; gripping the handgun tighter, Alicia walked inside the worn down gate, and towards the rotting front door. Knocking gently, Alicia stood outside on the moldy floor mat, half expecting someone to leap out and shoot her.
Instead, a Latino man peeked his head out of the front door; he was poorly dressed, wearing only a faded T-shirt and baggy shorts. But when he noticed the bag in Alicia’s hand, his eyes lit up, and he looked back at her.
“Girl…you got something for us?”
Alicia held up the bag without a word.
“Hmm…and we can get some of those lovely tits too?”
Alicia held up the gun to his head.
“Touch ‘em, and I blow your fucking nuts off.”
The gangbanger apparently believed her threat; he opened the door just enough to let Alicia in, and led her to the main dining hall, where several other Latinos sat, smoking cigarettes and playing blackjack. Two heavyset men with AK-47s sat on barrels in the corners of the room; Alicia felt a bead of sweat run down her forehead as she noticed the bodyguards. One of the men, a thin, wiry Latino with a Yankees baseball cap and a raggedy white shirt, stood up and examined Alicia.
“What this bitch doing here, hombre?” the Latino directed his question to the doorman.
“She got the shit back, Blanco. She got that prime shit back,” the doorman said, motioning to the bag of cocaine. The man named Blanco apparently didn’t notice the bag of cocaine; his eyes widened as he saw it.
“Damn…bitch, that shit was confiscated by the fuzz a year ago. How the fuck did you get that shit back?” Blanco cried in disbelief. Alicia did not answer. She only offered the bag out.
“Damn…Alexei, Yukov, search her first. Make sure she ain’t hiding any shit,” Blanco said, motioning to the two guards. The muscular men sauntered over to Alicia, and began patting her down. She could have sworn one of them felt her tits, but she ignored it. Better to let the plan go forward.
“Alexei and Yukov…good men, bought them from Russia…some motherfucker named Makarov, he’s got a whole lotta shit…don’t wanna get too involved with him though, not with his history…alright, girl, what kinda price you putting on that shit?” Blanco asked, pointing to the cocaine. It was then that Alicia spoke.
“No cash. You know the 55th Street gang?”
“Yeah, I know em. Those black dudes, bang chicks and torture em for a hefty price. What about em?”
“One night. Get them to Edwin A. Rochas Highschool tonight at seven p.m. The price…”
Alicia threw the heavy bag of pure cocaine on the table. Everyone, save the stoic Russian guards, looked down at the bag. A moment of silence followed.
“Mkay, girl. You got yourself a deal.”

Mara could not help but laugh as she remembered poor Jessica…and the girl had committed suicide!! What a pussy, she thought as she changed into her cheer outfit. Just as she began slipping on the shorts, the door to the changing room slammed open. Mara turned around in surprise to see Alicia, her friends, and an entire gang of black gangbangers stride into the changing room. The cheer girls looked on in confusion as the entire group filed into the room.
“Mara Lee. Remember me?” Alicia sneered, looking at the half-dressed Mara. She strode up to the cheer captain, examining her the whole body over.
“Alicia…”
“Alright, one man on each girl, fuck them hard, as much as you want, and I want Biggie over here…”
With that command, the ten black men strode over to a girl of their choice, and wrestled them violently to the ground, stripping off their clothes and fucking them hard. The biggest man, Biggie, walked over to Mara, who looked around feverishly at the other girls, at Alicia, and at the threatening black man, who dropped his pants to reveal a whopper of an erection–ten full inches–to a terrified Mara.
“Poor, poor Jessica. She never stood a chance,” Alicia sighed, as Biggie wrestled Mara down.
“Alicia–please–”
“You got what’s coming to you. Karma’s a bitch…and she always comes back to haunt you…”
With that, Biggie shoved his huge cock into Mara’s cunt. She began to scream, but another black man came up and shoved his dick down her throat, silencing her. Although it was an awkward position, he was able to keep her quiet, as Biggie thrusted wildly into Mara’s pussy. Alicia noticed the other girls–Madylyn, Amy, and Florence–holding up videocams and videotaping the orgy going on, all while rubbing their own pussies. Before Biggie came, Alicia told him to get off and hauled the terrified, naked Mara over below the three girls, who squirted streams of pussy juice into her face and mouth.
“How does it feel, bitch?” Alicia sneered, remebering when Mara had squirted ten times onto her own face and taken pictures. Mara could not answer; as soon as the girls were done with their squirt, Alicia hauled Mara over to the lockers, where the other cheer girls were bound and gagged.
“Alright, boys,” Alicia began, as the black men gave their attention to her. “Fuck those girls good in the pussy, but don’t cum. Once you’re done there, blow it in their mouth, and leave them bound here,” Alicia ordered. She had the other three girls hold Mara up to the lockers; by now, she was begging for mercy, but the ball gag prevented her from actually speaking.
“How many times have you raped us in this locker room, Mara Lee?” Alicia asked, her face full of malice. Biggie stood there, holding alligator clamps at the ready. Mara began crying and screaming, but no heed was paid to her.
“How many times? About twenty, I’d say. Twenty times you’ve squirted on us, stuck strap-ons into our cunts, had the jocks fuck us, and had us fuck one another. It’s time to get your payback.” Alicia held a riding crop in her hand. Biggie, ignoring the terrified Mara’s pleas, attached the alligator clamps to her nipples, already at a half-inch erection, and pulled them out to two inches, eliciting cries of pain from Mara.
“Twenty times. Twenty whips,” Alicia sneered, and began to whip Mara’s tits, all while reveling in the sounds of pain coming from the cheer girls to the far side of the room. She reveled in Mara’s tears, her cries of agony as her tits turned red and swelled. After twenty whips, the alligator clamps were removed, and Mara sighed relief.
“Relief? Oh, not yet…”
Biggie bent down and attached the alligator clamps to Mara’s pussy lips. She began whipping her head around, trying desperately to break free, but strength failed her.
“There was no need for Jessica to die. She had a future ahead of her,” Mara said, her voice angry and full of contempt. “It’s time you paid for her death, even though it’s not equal.” Alicia withdrew a taser from her pocket, and turned it on. Mara’s pussy was wide open; her clit was exposed. Alicia slowly moved the taser down towards the bitch’s exposed clit…

The next day, Alicia stood by her locker again. She barely noticed Mara approach her, barely able to walk. She slammed the locker door shut, turning towards Mara.
“I–I’m sorry about all I’ve done–really, I shouldn’t have done it in the first place. I regret everything, and I’ll do anything to make it up…”
“Anything?”
“Yes…wait…”
Alicia smiled, and patted Mara on the shoulder.
“That was the first time. Nineteen more to go. Tryouts for the new season are coming up next week,” Alicia smiled. She had nineteen more chances to bring that bitch to regret, and she would make the most of every moment of it.

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