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Part Eight
The "musicians" of the rock band thrashed away for all they were worth on the tiny stage of the Greenwood High School gymnasium, but their collective efforts produced nothing more than a wash of reverberating mush as the over-amplified music bounced randomly back and forth off the bare, wooden walls of the box-shaped gym. The kids didn’t care, though. They never did. As usual, they just milled around, boys on one side, girls on the other, with the few couples brave enough to dance bouncing awkwardly up and down - more or less in time with the deep throb of the bass - in the centre of the floor.
The walls of the gym were festooned with bright pink balloons; blue and pink streamers created a curtain over each doorway; a number of bowls of pink grapefruit punch (three of them now, predictably, spiked with vodka) sat on a long table against one wall; and a large ba
A typical Valentine’s Day dance at Greenwood High.
In keeping with the theme, Stacy arrived at the dance wearing pink and blue. She was beautifully decked out in an extremely short pink skirt (no more than four inches below her bum) and a sleeveless, powder blue blouse. This, along with the pink knee-socks and white high-heeled shoes gave her an appealing, little girl look, which was enhanced by the fact that she was wearing her hair in a pony tail.
The look, however, hadn’t been her choice. Very little was, these days. The outfit had been selected by Sharon to create this effect. In fact, Sharon was now frequently picking out which clothes Stacy should wear for specific occasions. Nothing too startlingly different from Stacy’s usual mode of dress, but always a bit more revealing than Stacy would have chosen on her own. Gradually, over the course of the last couple of months, Sharon had been taking over various aspects of Stacy’s life in general. Stacy had objected at first, but Sharon had made the usual threats, and Stacy had inevitably capitulated. As well, Sharon was now able to compel Stacy’s obedience by threatening to cut off her supply of Gary’s drugs. By now, Stacy was reliant upon Gary’s mixture, which allowed her to get excited when having sex; without it, her enforced promiscuity would have been - and had been, before the session with Ashley - extremely painful. She was becoming, in Sharon’s words, "well trained".
A well trained slut.
As it was, the combination of drugs and scotch allowed her to get at least some enjoyment from the sex, a vital advantage since she was having it so regularly. As well as the large number of guys she was still required to fuck to meet her quota of sixty-five before the end of the year, her blackmailers had ordered her not to refuse repeat business. Every time someone she had already had sex with asked for more, she had to say yes (provided, of course, that the asker was willing to pay the five dollars). As a result, she was now fucking and sucking daily, sometimes two, three or even four times. Inevitably, this led to her getting a reputation for putting out, which in turn led more guys to try to fuck her. On the surface, nothing had changed, and she still held her position in the school hierarchy, but among many if not most of the guys at school, the word was out: Stacy Richards was a hot slut, who dropped her panties at the slightest pretext. This was not, strictly speaking, entirely true. In the last couple of weeks, Stacy had stopped wearing panties (another of Sharon’s "suggestions"); it was too much trouble getting them on and off, and too many pairs were ruined. Pants were also a thing of the past; the new Stacy only wore short skirts.
The new Stacy was also looking for a guy to fuck. She stood in a corner of the gym next to the door leading to the boy’s locker room, playing absently with her heavily decorated charm bracelet (thirty-three bright, shiny "F"s), and sca
She sca
Gary looked on, smiling as he saw Stacy - dressed up like some kind of wet dream - call someone over to her. It was Paul Baxter, from grade 12. A tall guy with glasses and bad skin; kind of quiet. He watched as Stacy pulled him closer and whispered something in his ear. A few second later, Paul blushed a furious red, but allowed himself to be led into the locker room. The couple disappeared from sight.
"She’s found one already?" Gary turned. Sharon had come up behind him as he had been watching Stacy at work. The short girl was holding a glass of punch. She was almost shouting to be heard over the roar of the band.
"Yeah," he answered, shouting in reply. "Paul Baxter; from Rhenquist’s French class."
"Didn’t take long," Sharon commented, taking a swallow of spiked punch.
Gary gri
Sharon nodded at the compliment, but didn’t return the grin. Something was bothering her. "You’ve made it too easy for her," she complained. "The drugs make it too much fun. She’s enjoying herself too much."
Gary’s grin just widened. "Well," he answered, "maybe I should let you in on a little secret." He looked around, as if anyone could hear them over the band. Sharon just stared at him, waiting.
"After the first couple of weeks, I stopped putting the drugs in the scotch. Since the end of January, she’s just been drinking the scotch. Straight."
Sharon’s eyes widened in surprise. "But… that’s two weeks now. She hasn’t said… she didn’t…"
"Right," Gary interrupted. "That’s the beauty of it. She gets horny now completely on her own. All it takes is a little scotch, and she’s ready to jump into bed with anybody. Soon, I’m going to start changing the type of alcohol. By the end of the year, she’ll turn into a slut every time she touches a drop of alcohol. It’s all part of the training."
Sharon’s surprise turned into amusement. "Gary," she chuckled, "that’s perfect." She began to laugh outright.
"What’s so fu
Gary looked over at the laughing Sharon. "You tell him," he suggested to her. "I think I’ll send a few more guys Stacy’s way. I think I see the Schaefer brothers."
He turned and walked off as Sharon began to explain to Neil exactly what it was that was so fu
Frank Schaefer shoved open the swinging door to the locker room and ponderously squeezed his bulk through the doorway. He was followed closely by his younger brother, Simon. The Schaefer brothers were both extremely fat - each weighing over 250 pounds - and would have been fatter still if they had not been quite as tall as they were. Still, even at well over six feet, they were each enormously obese. They were a number of years older than the other students at Greenwood, having been frequently held back grades while their contemporaries advanced and graduated. Their size was matched only by their stupidity, and they had become something of a joke at Greenwood. Fortunately for them, that same size protected them from any real bullying, and they were generally left alone. That was why they were so surprised when Gary approached them at the dance and suggested that it might be a good idea for them to go into the locker room "to check things out". They had been puzzled at this, but they found most things puzzling, so they just shrugged their shoulders and ambled into the locker room.