TITLE    : The Sarah Owens Story Ch. 04
STORYID  : the-sarah-owens-story-ch-04
SUMMARY  : Sarah loses her virginity.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2009-11-30
CATEGORY : bdsm-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |cheerleader|schoolgirl|catholic|high school|spanking|virginity|anal|machine|


<i>Note: This series is based upon an idea by Sarah Owens. The characters in it are 18 years old or older.</i>



* * *



Practice had improved greatly since Coach Bigg had instituted spanking as part of the cheerleading squad's training, punishing all of the girls for the clumsiness, insolence, or mistakes of any one of their number. There was nothing like a warm, sore ass to correct one's attitude and to focus one's efforts.



It seemed that, of late, the coach had singled Sarah out less often than she'd done before she'd instituted group punishment for the squad. That was a benefit, at least, of collective responsibility. The downside--a severe caning every time someone screwed up--was pretty harsh, though.



Still, Sarah, an outcast among her friends since Coach Bigg had singled her out as someone deserving special abuse and, therefore, as the one who brought additional punishment down upon everyone else, had been able, slowly, to earn back the squad's trust and affection; she was one of the girls again. She hadn't forgotten what it had been like to be ostracized by the group, though; it had been dreadful.



The coach had also stopped berating the squad on a daily basis, occasionally even suggesting that there was some hope for the girls, after all, despite the awkwardness, the ineptitude, the laziness, and the careless attitude they'd displayed when Coach Bigg had first arrived on the scene, taking the place of Coach Chambers, whom Principal Matthews had fired. The new coach was determined to make good on her word to the principal that she'd not only take South Catholic High School's cheerleading squad to the Nationals, but that they'd return home as the reigning champions.



The principal, having heard that the squad had improved drastically, had sat in on one of their practices. "I don't know how you've managed it," the chief administrator had told Coach Bigg, with a knowing wink, "but you've certainly brought out the best of the girls' talents."



"Do you think the principal knows about the spanking machine?" Susan Davis asked Sarah after the practice session, while they were showering with their fellow squad members.



Sarah had been looking at Becky James' buttocks. Ever since Coach Bigg had made Sarah lick Cindy Baxter's asshole during their first group session on The Carousel, as the spanking machine was called, Sarah had found herself checking out the other cheerleaders' tits and asses while they showered. Sometimes, as when one of the girls executed a split, she also glanced at her crotch. Sarah's erotic interest in the other girls disturbed her a little. Sometimes, it disturbed her a lot. Sarah had always been close, emotionally, to the other girls, but she'd never had sexual thoughts about them before, nor had she been interested in checking out their charms on the sly.



All the girls were good looking. Some, like Sarah, were gorgeous. Becky's ass was especially attractive, Sarah thought. It was full, but compact, sleek and soft, but, at the same time, firm, with a well-defined, sexy shape. The cleavage between the cheeks of Becky's ass was as lovely, Sarah thought, as the cleavage between a girl's breasts.



At Susan's question, Sarah looked away from Becky's buttocks, not daring to be seen ogling one of her fellow cheerleaders' asses. As far as any of the other girls knew, she was strictly and totally into guys, like them, her licking of Cindy's asshole something she'd been forced to do but had taken no more pleasure in than Cindy had taken in having been made to lick Sarah's pussy. "Of course, he knows," Sarah answered Susan's question.



"How can you be sure?"



"Did you see how he winked at Coach Bigg when he said he had no idea how she's managed to shape us up as a squad?"



Beside her, Susan shrugged. The motion, Sarah noticed, looking quickly away, made her friend's round, firm breasts rise and fall. Sarah felt a tingle between her legs which had nothing to do with the sudsy water that blasted her pubes and ran between her thighs and down her legs. "Yeah? So?"



"He winked to suggest that he does know how she's whipped us into shape. Besides, how do you thing the coach paid for The Carousel. I mean, the machine has to have cost a bundle--way more than a cheerleading coach could afford."



"I guess I hadn't thought of that."



Sarah's eyes caught Jennifer Adams' chest. Her friend was standing at right angles, several yards away, and her stance, under the steaming shower, presented the sweeping curve of her back, flowing into the rounded hump of her left buttock, and a profile of her boobs. Sarah watched Jennifer's tits jiggle and sway as her fellow cheerleader washed and rinsed the magnificent fleshly orbs.



Another, larger figure loomed into view in Sarah's peripheral vision. She turned her head to see Coach Bigg standing just outside the communal shower, staring at her and the other girls. The coach, a massive, bovine woman, with big tits, wide hips, a more-than-ample ass, and thick, meaty thighs, stood, hands on hips, staring at them, openly, her face an impassive mask. "After you finish showering, I want to see each and every last one of you in the storeroom," she announced, her tone flat.



Sarah felt sick, as if the coach had hit her hard in the stomach, and, she saw, the other girls looked just as ill, their faces pale and haunted. Meeting in the storeroom meant only one thing: they'd be subjected to another group spanking, courtesy of The Carousel.



"What did we do now?" Susan wondered aloud.



"Nothing that I know of," Sarah said, reflecting on the day's practice. All had gone well, she thought. In fact, the session had been one of their best yet, it seemed to her. Whatever the transgression might be, Sarah hoped fervently that she was not the transgressor. She'd just won back the affection of her friends. She didn't want to become an outcast among them again for bringing down another severe spanking upon everyone.



"I guess we'll find out soon enough," Susan said. She sounded frightened, Sarah thought, the same way that Sarah herself felt.



* * *



"Take off your clothes," Coach Bigg instructed the cheerleaders as soon as they had assembled in the storeroom.



Sarah and the others did as they were told, without protest. They'd learned that complaints or hesitation would earn them more swats, and none of them wanted even a single stoke of the cane more than their mentor might originally intend to administer to them.



Sarah, trying to keep her eyes off the other girls as they disrobed, doffed her own clothing and stood, naked, awaiting further instructions.



"Take your positions," Coach Bigg commanded her charges.



Each of the girls had been assigned her own station aboard the spanking machine's platform, and, like the others, Sarah climbed aboard, kneeling on her wedge-shaped section of the platform that ringed the machine's central hub. Across from her, she saw Cindy, whose asshole she'd been made to lick a few weeks ago, just as Cindy had been forced to lick Sarah's pussy. Since Sarah had been accepted back into the affections of the other members of the squad, she and Cindy had managed to be civil to one another, but their relationship was different now. Unlike Sarah, Cindy hadn't enjoyed the humiliation of having to lick Sarah's private parts in front of the whole squad, and it had been Sarah's fall, while executing a toe-touch jump (thanks to the petroleum jelly that Coach Bigg had secretly spread on the practice mat), that had brought punishment down on the whole squad, leading to Cindy's degrading tasting of Sarah's cunt and Sarah's sampling of Cindy's asshole. Therefore, Cindy blamed Sarah for the humiliation that she had suffered. It had all been Sarah's fault.



As soon as the two girls had climbed into position aboard their respective sections of the platform surrounding the hub of the machine, kneeling and supporting the weight of their upper bodies on their elbows, they both averted their eyes. Cindy had made it quite clear that she didn't want to look at Sarah, and, although hurt by her friend's rejection, Sarah honored Cindy's desire that they not make or maintain eye contact. Sarah couldn't help sneaking peeks at Cindy's breasts, though. The way they hung down, full and soft and sleek, looking as if they were being poured from her chest, was both beautiful and extremely arousing. Sarah felt an erotic tingling in her pussy at the sight of them. She was careful to look away whenever Cindy turned her head, though, not daring to be caught looking.



"You may be wondering why you're here," Coach Bigg said. "It's because of Baxter. She dropped a pompom."



An array of emotions crossed Cindy's face: fear, guilt, shame. She shuddered at the thought that, because of her clumsiness, the whole squad would be punished.



"That may seem a minor, even an insignificant, thing to you," the coach continued, "but, believe me, the judges at the Nationals will not think so. When we compete nationally--and we will--we will be up against the best, and the judges will look for the least opportunity to eliminate a squad from the competition. Dropping a pompom during a cheer, as Baxter did at today's practice, will be just the justification a judge needs to eliminate South Catholic High School's squad, and I am not about to let that happen. Therefore, because of Baxter's incompetence, you will all pay the price."



Sarah darted a glance at Cindy. The girl was close to tears. Sarah knew just how she felt--the same way that Sarah herself had felt, weeks ago, when it had been she who'd caused the squad to be spanked mercilessly during Dr. Fanner's demonstration of the machine. Catching Sarah looking at her, Cindy made an angry face. Even now, it was obvious, she wanted nothing to do with Sarah.



"I am taking this opportunity to introduce you to another feature of The Carousel," Coach Bigg announced. "Perhaps you thought it could do only one thing--administer a sound thrashing of your backsides with a cane. Let me assure you, it can do much, much more."



Sarah saw the other girls' looks of trepidation; she felt the same way herself as she tried to imagine what else The Carousel was capable of doing to them.



A soft whirring sound alerted Sarah to an activity on the part of the machine, and she felt something firm and sleek penetrate her both anally and vaginally. She looked back, between her legs, and saw a probe of sorts: a two-headed dildo, attached to a steel rod. The rod, as best she could discern from her limited perspective, rose from the platform, behind her.



"The Carousel, you see," a familiar male voice declared, "is not only a spanking machine, but it is a fucking machine, also."



Sarah, like the other girls, was shocked to hear Principal Matthews' voice; she was mortified, too, to think that the school's chief administrator was on hand to see her and her friends naked, on their elbows and knees, strapped in place on their respective portions of The Carousel's platform, with dildos stuffed up their cunts and asses.



"The phalli can work in unison with one another," Coach Bigg said, demonstrating this capability by the press of a button. Sarah felt the dildos ease back, out of her impaled orifices; a moment later, they slid back into her depths.



"Alternatively, they can also work independently of one another." The coach pressed another button, and the artificial cock in Sarah's pussy withdrew while the one inside her anus advanced; a moment later, each phallus reversed its action, the one in Sarah's cunt plunging forward while the one inside her asshole retreated.



"The phalli can also alternately work in unison and independently." Again, Coach Bigg demonstrated, allowing both artificial penises to work first in synch with one another and then in succession, one moving forward while the other moved backward.



As the mechanical erections plumbed her depths, Sarah felt her pussy flood, and her cunt juices ran, thick and fast, down her thighs. Although Sarah had had sex on a few occasions, she'd never been penetrated. She'd merely masturbated one boy--Danny Small--and given a blowjob to another--Rodney Brown. Now, she was being doubly penetrated, and by a machine, at that! The sensations were novel and extremely erotic. The big, thick pricks fucked her with the merciless efficiency and tireless, fluid movements possible only to a machine, pounding her, fore and aft, with passionless, but persistent, regular, driving force.



Each thrust of the cocks, in her cunt or her ass, simultaneously or in succession, according to Coach Bigg's whims, rocked Sarah forward on her knees, and she felt the smooth, cylindrical probes shove past her labia to plunge deep into her sopping-wet pussy and through her anal sphincter, far into her rectum. Her breasts, dangling before her, the way that Cindy's and the other girls dangled, swayed and jiggled with each thrust of the artificial penises. She gasped and moaned, joined by the other girls, who likewise voiced their astonishment at being again and again fucked by the hard-driving phalli.



The thought that she and the other cheerleaders were being observed by their coach and their principal was extremely embarrassing, Sarah thought, but, at the same time, very exciting. More of her pussy juice sluiced down her thighs, and she trembled as waves of pleasure washed through her loins. If this was Coach Bigg's idea of punishment, Sarah thought, she herself would be sure to drop a pompom at every practice session!



With a wet, slurping sound, the dildo inside Sarah's pussy slid free, trailing a stream of her cunt's lubricant, and she felt the smaller phallus also slip out of her asshole. Another whirring sound was heard as the apparatus retracted, descending into the platform from whence it had come.



Another wave of orgasmic pleasure shot through Sarah's loins, her pussy flooding itself yet again, and she shuddered, crying out, despite her desire not to call attention to her aroused state. She needn't have been concerned, however, with divulging her passion to the other girls, for most of them, likewise, gave voice to the pleasure that had become almost unendurable to them, and a chorus of gasps, moans, and shrieks echoed within the storeroom's cinderblock walls.



"This has been quite a demonstration, Coach Bigg," Principal Matthews said. His own passion was evident in his hoarse, shaky voice.



"It's not over yet," the coach replied.



Under the fluorescent bulbs high in the ceiling, Sarah and the other girls saw slender shadows waver as Coach Bigg activated the thin, supple bamboo canes that extended overhead--or, rather, over the asses of the cheerleaders--and the girls knew that what was coming was going to be as painful as the dildos' fucking had been pleasurable. Several girls moaned. Others whimpered. Sarah gritted her teeth, willing herself to resist any show of suffering. She didn't want to give Coach Bigg the satisfaction of seeing her cry if she could help it, which, she told herself, she probably couldn't.



The first flick of the cane sent an immense, astonishing pain throughout Sarah's bottom, and she shrieked, tears gathering in her eyes, despite her vow to herself, only a moment ago, to remain stoic in the face of their punishment. She heard several of the girls cry out, and she saw Cindy's face contort with the same agony that flamed inside Sarah's own buttocks.



"Oh, my!" Principal Matthews declared.



"You haven't seen anything yet," Coach Bigg assured him.



The canes whipped down again, lightning quick, across the girls' quivering buttocks, and Sarah screamed, thinking she must go mad from the pain--the anguish--that filled her derriere. Involuntarily, her ass cheeks flexed, and she shuddered. The cane lashed her flesh again, and she shrieked, tears spilling from her eyes. Again, the cane fell, sweeping down with devastating effect, and Sarah howled. Her buttocks were already on fire, and she'd received only four strokes of the narrow bamboo rod.



"One can set the force with which the cane is deployed form mild to extreme," Coach Bigg informed the principal. "Currently, I have it set at approximately three-fourths of maximum impact."



"Very impressive," Principal Matthews said.



"One can increase the speed at which the cane is deployed, as well, so that a stroke is delivered at any interval from one second to ten seconds each. At the moment, I have selected two-second intervals."



"Again, most impressive," the chief administrator declared. "I also like the way the platform rotates, allowing spectators to examine the cane's effects on each and every one of the girls' bottoms, so one can be sure that each is soundly, but safely, thrashed."



"It was a feature I insisted on," Coach Bigg replied. "It wouldn't do to train these girls for months only to have one of them become incapacitated."



"No, no," Principal Matthews concurred. "I quite agree."



As the spectators discussed the merits of The Carousel, the cane continued to deliver its cutting strokes, one each second, and, already, another four red lines had appeared upon the cheerleaders' beleaguered bottoms. In a few instances, drops of blood dribbled from the lacerations, and bruises had appeared in the flesh of several of the girls' buttocks.



Coach Bigg smiled at her handiwork, increasing the severity with which the cane's strokes would be delivered to maximum force and the tempo at which the instruments would descend to the greatest speed. A sustained chorus of screams and shrieks sounded as the canes flashed down upon the girls' naked buttocks with such rapidity and force that the instruments themselves appeared only as blurs. Each second, the canes found their marks with sickening force, fairly flaying the flesh from their targets, but Coach Bigg allowed the whipping to continue only for five seconds before bringing the cruel instruments to a halt. The Carousel slowed to a stop, and the coach, assisted by the principal, released the stunned girls.



The cheerleaders, barely able to stand, staggered to their clothing. Weeping and sobbing, they managed, somehow, to dress. As Sarah hobbled toward the door, Coach Bigg called, "Not so fast, Owens."



Gingerly, her every motion occasioning unbearable pain, Sarah turned, facing the coach. Weak, she awaited further instruction, telling herself not to faint.



Coach Bigg hurled a wet towel at the teen. Sarah was unable to catch it, and the sopping missile hit her in the face, stinging. "We need to work on your reflexes, Owens."



"I'm sorry, Coach," Sarah whispered. Even uttering these three words took what seemed to the cheerleader to be a superhuman effort.



"Normally, I'd have Baxter clean up this mess, since she's the one who screwed up at practice today, dropping the pompom, but, instead, I'm making you do it. How do you feel about that, Owens?"



Sarah could hardly stand, let alone speak. The brutal caning, preceded by the exhausting series of orgasms resulting from the cunt-and-ass-fuck she'd been subjected to, had drained her strength. Her legs felt like noodles, her knees like jelly. "You're the coach," she managed to say. She wanted to ask why Coach Bigg continued to single her out, even when she'd done everything expected of her and had shone, more than any of the other girls on the squad, during their practice sessions, but she didn't have the strength or the energy to string the words of the question together.



"That's right, Owens, I'm the alpha female. Now, get to work. I want this mess cleaned up at once."



"Mess?" the dazed teen repeated.



"You and your friends spilled a lot of pussy juice on The Carousel's platform," Coach Bigg pointed out, "and the virgins among you bled on the machine as well. Scrub it until the damned thing shines."



"Yes, ma'am." Sarah staggered toward the spanking machine, towel in hand.



"Do you know why I treat you differently than I do the others?" Coach Bigg asked as Sarah commenced sopping up her friends' cunt juices and blood.

<hr pg="2" />Why you pick on me, you mean? Sarah wanted to say. Why you single me out for abuse? Instead she said, "Why?"



"Because, among your peers, you are the alpha female, Owens. To dominate them, I have to dominate you. Moreover, I have to do so in as obvious a manner as possible; I have to rub your nose in your submissiveness, to show your friends that I'm the boss, and I have to keep on rubbing your nose in it to prove I am, and always will be, top dog."



The coach, followed by Principal Matthews, left the cheerleader to her task.



It took Sarah nearly a quarter of an hour to clean up the squad's mess. The girls had spilled a lot of lubricating fluid onto the platform, and several, Sarah included, had gushed quite a bit of blood. She shook her head--and winced at the pain the motion caused in her buttocks--at the thought that she'd lost her virginity to the heartless, mindless, faceless--and merciless--machine known as The Carousel.



The thought was so pathetic and absurd that she'd laugh, but she was afraid, if she did, she'd send another series of needles and flames through her bruised and lacerated bottom, and she didn't want that to happen.



She'd had quite enough pain and pleasure for a lifetime today. Nevertheless, she felt certain, she and the other girls would have plenty more of both before Coach Bigg thought them ready for the Nationals, and the coach had vowed, to them, to Principal Matthews, and to herself, that the cheerleaders would compete and win at this event, even if she killed them all in the process.



Sarah was beginning to think the coach had meant the implied threat literally.

