The Little Wooden Juicer

Angie turned a bright pink and bit a knuckle. She looked so cute I thought she might toe the ground and twist her hips back and forth.

"Just one," she confessed, shyly. "My cousin's convertible. He's got a nice shifter that's much smaller than yours, Neeka. It has the most interesting shape to it, though. I couldn't resist trying it out."

I was actually mildly surprised that she had tried it again. I was shocked when she did it the first time. I wanted to hear all the details, but time was getting away.

"Was it good?" I asked.

"It wasn't as much fun as doing it with you guys there," she admitted. "But I did enjoy it. If you know what I mean?"

"I do. I do. Have you told your boyfriend about your new hobby?"

"I don't have a boyfriend right now. I've dated a few, but they all seem too immature."

I had said the very same thing at one point myself. It meant that they weren't completely out of the pig-tail pulling phase. They wanted to touch you, but they didn't know how to go about it and not be rough or mean. Most boys got over that eventually. But some never got the hang of treating you like a person.

"How would you like to meet an older boy from Parkhurst Academy?" I asked. "He's just breaking up with his girlfriend and he needs a shoulder to lean on. We were just saying that you would be perfect for him."

"Wow! I mean, sure. I mean... why are they breaking up?" She seemed more curious than cautious of getting into the middle of someone else's breakup. It was endearingly naive of her.

"Well, she took up with someone else," Neeka explained, carefully. "And he saw them together. She saw him at the same time. Now, they are just too uncomfortable about it to get back together. Which she doesn't want to do anyway. See?"

"OK. Just so I won't be stuck with someone who's mooning over some other girl when he's with me."

"I think you two will hit it off fine," I told her. "You are just what he needs, cheerful, pretty, and fun to be around."

"Gee! Thanks. So, when can I meet him?"

"I'm seeing someone this weekend who can pass him your number. Give him until sometime next week to call, OK?"

"OK."

"And Angie? If you really want to get his mind off his ex, show him how much you like his car. Know what I mean?"

"Whoa! I don't think I could... I mean, that's too... gosh. Just thinking about that is making me excited!"

"Imagine what it will do to him. If you want him to drag you into the back seat and screw you silly, you'll do it."

"Oh, my gosh! Oh, I hope he calls soon. Wow!" Angie wandered off into the crowd in a daze, imagining a torrid night of sex with an older boy.

"'Gosh'?" Neeka said. "You know, I don't think I can remember ever hearing anyone say the word 'gosh' before. Does she do that all the time?"

"As far as I know. She's adorable, isn't she? She's just the thing for a humiliated and disillusioned boy. She'll raise his spirits and screw him half to death while making him think he's God's gift to girls."

"And if she's still a virgin, it's only a technicality. She seems pretty excited at the idea of having a real cock to ride."

It was the end of first period when Bud caught up to me in the hall. He put an arm around my shoulders and leaned in to whisper in my ear, "Tag, you're it!"

About the same time, I felt something hard press against my rear. I didn't need a script to know what I was being 'tagged' for. I had asked for this. I had even made them promise. And now it was my turn to be the sperm collector for a couple of horny boys.

The idea brightened my day immediately. I took Bud by the hand and led him down the steps to the basement. He balked a bit at going into the girl's restroom, but I dragged him along anyway.

Five minutes later, he had a bigger smile and I had a womb full of cum. I hadn't climaxed myself, but I was happy anyway. I knew they planned to do the same thing to me that they had done to Neeka all the previous day. I could look forward to a quickie with one or the other of them every hour all day long. It was a pace that had left Neeka frazzled, but I was sure I would come away with a monster buzz and a glow that could be seen for miles.

After Physics, it was Jim who led me behind the auditorium stage and bent me over a stack of scenery flats so he could pump his big cock into me and cream all over my insides. This time, I was more than ready and I came, squealing like a stuck pig as he sprayed his big load through my cervix into the pool that was still there. I could feel the weight of it inside me as I walked to my Social Studies class.

At lunch, Bud and I went down to the boy's locker room, a familiar place to me by now and one that had the advantage of a bench for me to lie down on while Bud fucked me furiously so he could cum and still run back and grab some lunch. After he had made another deposit and I had another orgasm, I lay there enjoying the afterglow.

I must have spaced-out off for a few minutes, because suddenly Steve was climbing on top of me. I don't know if he was in on it, thought I was there waiting on him, or just took advantage of the situation, but it was such a pleasant surprise that he made me cum even harder than either Bud or Jim had.

I had plenty of energy bars in my bag, so missing the Wednesday mystery-meat entrée in the lunchroom wasn't too much of a burden. Steve and I got to spend some quality time together while I sat curled up in his lap with his cock still in my pussy. I was so high on afterglow by this time that I was giddy and tended to giggle at everything he said. He seemed to enjoy it as much as I did, because he kept hugging me and kissing me while we talked about stuff. I was too happy to be sad when time ran out and we had to go on to our next class.

I tried to walk normally to my English class, but it was difficult. Not only was I starting to get bow-legged from having my legs apart so much, the weight of cum in me by then was quite noticeable and I could swear I felt it slosh around as I walked. That, plus the ecstatic smile on my face must have tipped off everyone about what I had been doing. I remembered that Neeka had also walked around all day with that 'freshly-fucked' look on her face too. Still, no one said anything. They all just smiled back and turned to whisper their assumptions to their friends.

When I came out of English and headed for the gym, I looked around for Jim, but he was nowhere to be seen. I was curious about that, until I was sitting down in the narrow classroom where we had our Health instruction. Polly had just sat down beside me when I grabbed her arm and shuddered as Neeka's orgasm wracked me. She must have missed the attention and diverted Jim for her own purposes. I suppose it was a kindness, because it gave me more time to soak up the cum that felt like it had my uterus blown up like a balloon.

"Damn, Sam!" Polly said. "What was that? I thought you were going to break my leg."

I had snatched my hand away as quickly as I could to spare her any further involuntary spasms. A big shudder went through me, making me vibrate like an old house in a high wind. Then it was over and the intense surge of pleasure began to slowly ebb away.

"Oh, wow!" Polly said in a hushed, conspiratorial tone. "Was that what it looked like?"

"Unhunh." I managed to say. My whole body tingled and my broad smile got even bigger. If they ever make a street drug that gives you that feeling, they'll have the whole world addicted in no time at all.

Polly took my hand and held it in both of hers, intertwining her fingers with mine. "That was beautiful," she said. "How did you do that without... you know?"

I looked for a sideways view of the truth. "You know it's all in your head, right?" I asked her. "Physical stimulation isn't necessary. You can cum just from thinking about it hard. Well, sometimes I get so hot —- I just cum." All true; but beside the point. It was much simpler than telling her I was having someone else's orgasm.

"Well," she said in that same low voice, but with a more sinister tone, "I don't know if you're up for this, seeing as how you just... ah... and all. But I have something for you. If you're ready for it, that is."

I remembered our earlier conversation vividly. I had been looking forward to playing submissive to Polly's Mistress of Pain. I nodded eagerly and she dragged me out of the cramped room and back into the hallway.

"Coach is in a conference with Sally Perkins," Polly told me. "She's trying to convince Sally to wear a bra for Gym, so she may be in there a while. When she gets through in there, she won't have time to call the role. She'll just turn off the lights and start the film. We'll never be missed."

Sally was one of those girls who had sprouted breasts early, but they never filled out. She had big boobs all right, but unlike mine, they were anything but firm. Where mine had no sag and stood out proudly on my chest; hers hung down like two bags. They were so limp that her nipples pointed at her feet. She was the very image of the cow that Mrs. Reynolds had threatened to turn me into. Of course, Sally held the opinion that big tits were attractive, regardless of the shape they were in, and she always wore blouses that showed as much of them as she could get away with. The worst part was that she never wore a bra, which would at least have held things up and got them pointed in the right direction. She even refused to wear one during gym class, which was embarrassing for everyone because her tits flew all over when she jumped or tumbled.

It was her flopping around all over the place that had Coach Simpson concerned. Exercise was a good thing, but if you were bigger than a B-cup, you either had to have really firm boobs or wear a bra to do it without making things worse for yourself. This was the point that Coach was probably trying to get across to Sally, who seemed ignorant of the risks or uncaring how badly stretched her breast tissue could become or how low her tits already hung on her. If she didn't do something about it, they were likely to be at her waist before she was 21.

Polly led me down the hall into a janitor's closet and pushed the door shut behind me. Between the shelves of supplies and the big utility sink, there wasn't a lot of room in there. If the janitor's cart had been there as well, it would have been cramped. Since it was somewhere else at the moment, we had a little elbow-room.

I backed up against the sink and waited to see what Polly wanted to do to me. She set her bag on a shelf and pulled it open. When she reached inside, I took off my blouse and assumed my submissive-brace position with my hands on the edge of the sink behind me. I pulled my shoulders back so that my breasts stood up as high as I could make them, making my rings and stiff nipples stand out like small targets, which I what I assumed they would be to Polly.

I felt myself quivering with anticipation. The quickies I'd been enjoying all day had conditioned me to a quick arousal followed by a climax and I had been getting more responsive with each episode. I was like a racehorse at the gate, stamping and rearing to go.

With her hand still deep in her bag, Polly turned her head to look at me. She eyed my heaving breasts and said, "Oh, no. I know you want me to play with those big tits, but I'm going to save them for something special later. You turn around and bend over the sink. I want to see your ass."

I obediently flipped around and leaned over the sink, letting my spine drop so my small butt would stand out more. I reached back and rolled my short skirt up, tucking it into my waistband so my ass would be fully exposed and available for whatever she had planned. I had no panties on under my skirt.

Since most of the sex-play I had experienced had centered on my big boobs, my ass was almost virgin territory. Aside from having a boy grab it to have a place to hang onto while plowing me with his cock, no one had paid it much attention. I was excited that Polly had chosen to start there.

I craned my neck around to try to see what Polly had brought in her bag, but she apparently wanted it to be a surprise.

"Face forward," she said, sharply. "Don't look back here. Keep your nose to the wall and your tits in the sink."

I obeyed and she put her hand on my butt, making me flinch a little at her touch. She stroked my ass gently, using her whole hand to cup my cheeks.

"Nice butt," she observed. "You must lie around in the sun naked all the time to have such an even tan all over. My ass is chalk white. There is no place for me to go that my bratty little brother wouldn't be spying on me, so I have ugly tan lines. There's another reason why I want to hurt you."

She slapped my butt then. Not hard, but not gently. The smacking sound was loud in the small concrete room. The quick pain flashed through me like a struck match, igniting a fire between my legs. I wondered if she would hurt me bad enough to make me cry out, and if I did, would anyone hear me?

"Get that butt up where I can see it!" she ordered. "On your toes! And spread those legs!"

I did my best to comply. I bent over so far into the deep sink that my head was under the arched faucet and my nipples almost brushed the steel bottom. I moved my feet apart as far as I could in the cramped space and I went up on tiptoe.

Polly patted my raised ass, like I was a pet who had done a trick for her. I became aware that both my pussy and my anus were exposed in this position and when she slid her hand down my crack and between my legs, I almost came right then.

She parted my labia with her finger and drew a line through my wetness and across my asshole, finishing up with another hard slap that made my butt-cheeks clench and my clit throb.

"Try to relax," she told me, gently stroking my butt again.

It was hard, but I stopped clenching and my cheeks separated once more, exposing the crack of my ass again.

"What a nice asshole. It really is just too cute for words, you know, just like a little flower. The color is so even and it's not brown or pink. You'd never know that you shit out of there."

She put a finger right on my crinkled anus, letting it rest there lightly, and it was all I could do not to clench up my butt around it, trapping it. The feeling of having her touching me in a place that no one had ever touched before was driving me wild. I wanted to beg her to get on with it, but I held my tongue like a good little submissive.

"Well I'm going to have some fun with that cute asshole of yours, Sam. I've got something here that wants to meet that pretty little hole. I found this when we were cleaning out Gramma's house when she moved into her condo. I had never seen one before and I had to ask what it was. It seems that back in the days before electricity was used for just about everything, people who wanted fresh orange juice had to squeeze it themselves. Even today, people buy fresh oranges to take home. But today they usually use an electric juicer to get the juice out. Back then they used tools like this little wooden juicer. Back then you had to work for your OJ. Here, take a look at it. It's really a clever little doohickey. No moving parts and all manually operated."

I raised my head up out of the sink to see what she had brought. She held it up between two fingers so I could get a good look. It was an old piece of dark wood that had been carved into a nine or ten inch-long cylinder with a wasp-waist constriction a third of the way along it.