TITLE    : The Sarah Owens Story Ch. 08
STORYID  : the-sarah-owens-story-ch-08
SUMMARY  : The boys' varsity football coach gets in on the action.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2009-12-04
CATEGORY : bdsm-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |cheerleader|quarterback|schoolgirl|spanking|


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



* * *



Practice went well--better than it had ever gone before, in fact. With Marilyn assisting Coach Bigg, the girls' movements, stunts, and jumps had become nearly perfect. Their rapport had improved tremendously, too, as a result, Sarah suspected, of both the continued spankings to which they were subjected and their having been forced to pair off as lesbian couples. Not all of the squad members were open about their passion for their girlfriends, but enough of them, Sarah and Marilyn included, were so that Sarah was certain that the couples' coupling was, in many, if not all, cases, sexual as well as social. Hers and Marilyn's certainly was, as often as they could squeeze in a little snuggling or lovemaking.



Only one thing marred the day for Sarah, and that was her dread, growing as later afternoon approached, of being forced to mount The Carousel after practice and be publicly punished and humiliated along with some other unfortunate, as-yet-unidentified soul. Who else on the squad, Sarah wondered, had incurred the wrath of Coach Bigg, and why, for that matter, were only Sarah and the other miscreant to be disciplined when the coach's policy had always been to make all the squad members suffer for the shortcomings or mistakes of any one of them?



After the successful completion of the final stunt of the day, Coach Bigg ordered the squad to the storeroom, and the girls, thinking they'd all be punished, as usual, for the blunder of whoever among them had screwed up, looked glum. Sarah would have liked to have put their fears to rest by telling them that, today, only she and one other person were to be disciplined, but, of course, Coach Bigg would repay such forbidden kindness with a much harsher punishment than the one that Sarah was already destined to receive, and the teen didn't want to incur even one more swat of the cane than the coach already intended her to receive.



Like the other girls, Sarah had ridden The Carousel numerous times. They'd all been caned, severely, and they'd all been double-fucked, cunt and ass, by the double-pronged machine's relentless, inexhaustible mechanical dildos, while Coach Bigg and, on one occasion, Principal Matthews, looked on. The first time, while Dr. Fanner had demonstrated the machine, the scientist and her assistant (and, some of the cheerleaders suspected, her lover), Debbie Johnson, observed as well. An audience, the teens had agreed unanimously, increased their humiliation and shame a hundredfold. No doubt, that was why Coach Bigg insisted, on occasion, that there be onlookers.



"Stand by your stations," the coach directed the squad, once everyone had assembled in the storeroom. The girls hastened to the triangular sections of the platform that ringed the central hub, each taking her place before her respective location. "Step back from the machine," they were told. "Only Sarah and one other will ride The Carousel today."



The girls looked puzzled at this turn of affairs. Always before, they'd all paid the price for any error that any one of them had made. However, none of the squad members voiced her bewilderment. To do so, the girls knew, would be to earn the enmity of the coach--and, therefore, a place on The Carousel, along with Sarah and whoever else had been unfortunate enough to merit the machine's punishment.



"Take off your clothes, Owens," Coach Bigg ordered.



Sarah removed her cheerleader's uniform and doffed her underwear, standing naked before her peers and their coach, feeling, as always, self-conscious and embarrassed, despite the fact that the others had seen her nude on many occasions, once while Coach Bigg had fisted her pussy and her asshole to demonstrate the "trust-building exercise" that she'd made the girls perform on each other. It was chilly inside the storeroom, and Sarah's nipples, reacting to the nippiness, stiffened and swelled, standing erect. Great, she thought. Erect nipples were just what she needed, especially at a time like this!



The last girl to enter the storeroom had closed the heavy steel door, but, this time, on orders from Coach Bigg, the door had not been locked. Now, a brilliant shaft of afternoon sunlight flooded the room as the heavy door squeaked on its hinges, opening, and the boys' varsity football coach, Mike Ryerson, entered, the team's quarterback, Rick Williams, head down, following. He looked awful, Sarah thought, the athlete's hangdog expression reinforced by his sagging shoulders, his stooped posture, and his shuffling gait. Seeing two males among the girls caused Sarah's mortification at being naked to escalate. She wished the concrete floor would open up and swallow her.



Coach Ryerson crossed the storeroom, shaking hands with Coach Bigg. They grimaced at one another, offering what, for them, passed as a smile. "Thanks for allowing me to observe today--and to bring Williams along as one of this afternoon's participants." 



"I'm happy to have you, Coach."



"I'm amazed at the progress you've made with these girls," Coach Ryerson told Coach Bigg, his eyes sweeping in the cheerleaders--and lingering on Sarah, who had hung her head in the same manner as Rich had hung his. "It's incredible. Under Jane--Coach Chambers--the cheerleading squad was, quite frankly, a laughingstock; you've transformed them into real competitors."



"Thank you, Coach."



"When I saw what you've done, I had to ask your secret, and you were generous enough not only to let me in on it, but to allow me use your training techniques on the boys' football team, starting with Williams as a sort of test to see what effect The Carousel has on male athletes."



"I think you'll find it more effective than anything you've tried," Coach Bigg predicted, "or ever could try."



"Considering your success with your cheerleaders," Coach Ryerson replied, his eyes flashing over the girls and lingering, again, on Sarah's nudity--"I'd say you're right."



"Shall we begin?"



"I can't wait," Coach Ryerson said. Turning to Rick, he growled, "Strip!"



As browbeaten by Coach Ryerson as Sarah and the other girls had become under Coach Bigg's tutelage, the quarterback, without a word of protest, even in the presence of ten high school girls, took off his clothes and stood naked before them. He was slender for his height, which was six feet, but he was also wiry, with wide shoulders, a powerful chest, six-pack abs, sinewy thighs, muscular arms, a strong back, and a pair of tight, compact buttocks. His penis, although flaccid, was a good six inches long. It was probably smaller than usual, owing to the youth's humiliation and fear as much as to the chilly storeroom; his scrotum, Sarah noticed, was very small and hugged his crotch, rather than hanging loose. 



Rick Williams was the first boy she'd seen naked in a long, long time, and his powerful body, his circumcised cock, and his tight, firm ass made her recall the aesthetic aspects of the male physique and why she and the other girls, although they had all learned to love the feminine form and the joys of lesbianism, had been put off at having been made to give up boys. Rick was handsome, indeed. Sarah wouldn't mind masturbating him, sucking his cock, or maybe even fucking him, she decided, although she'd never give up Marilyn as her girlfriend.



"Take your place on The Carousel," Coach Big ordered Sarah, and the teen did as she was instructed. Marilyn, assisting the cheerleaders' coach this afternoon, strapped her girlfriend in place while Coach Bigg performed the same chore on Rick, while Coach Ryerson observed.



Dr. Fanner's assistant, Debbie Johnson, had installed the machine's latest features yesterday evening, and Coach Bigg was eager to see them in action. "Ready, Coach?" she asked her male counterpart.



"Ready, Coach," he replied.



"Here goes, then."



A touch of the button set The Carousel in motion, with Sarah on her hands and knees opposite Rick, who had been strapped into the same position. Both their asses were arched, offering the spectators a view not only of the victims' anuses but also, in Sarah's case, her bald pussy and, in Rick's case, his shaved cock and balls, dangling between his thighs.



Sarah heard the same faint whirring sound she'd heard the time that the double-headed phallus had risen from the platform behind her, impaling both her cunt and her ass, as eight identical ones had also impaled the pussies and assholes of the other cheerleaders. Marilyn hadn't joined the squad at that time, so she'd been spared being fucked fore and aft by the two-pronged dildo. Anticipating the press of the forked phallus into her vagina and rectum again, Sarah gritted her teeth, determined not to gasp, moan, or otherwise acknowledge their penetration of her.



However, the artificial penis that poked through her anus and past her sphincter was much thinner than the larger cock that had earlier fucked her in the ass, and so was the second one that now penetrated her pussy. Their circumference was so small, in fact, that, at first, she hadn't been sure that anything had skewered her nether orifices. However, as the phalli began to work their way back and forth inside her pussy and her asshole, the cheerleader understood that, indeed, she had been penetrated fore and aft, although, this time, by two separate dildos, rather than one that forked into two heads.



Rick, opposite her, also seemed to have figured out that his asshole had been skewered. Of course, as a guy, he had no cunt to also penetrate, but he did have a cock, and, over it, a clear sleeve, similar to a transparent condom, had unrolled. Behind him, the cheerleaders, watching, giggled. Coach Bigg had given them leave, for the first time ever, to speak freely, and they were taking full advantage of it, jeering and mocking both Sarah and Rick, but mostly the quarterback.



The poor jock, close to tears, looked more humiliated than any of the cheerleaders ever had, Sarah thought. Being penetrated anally while he was on his elbows and knees, cock and balls dangling between his legs like a whipped dog's tail and a transparent sheath over his penis, in front of his coach, the cheerleaders' coach, and the entire cheerleading squad, including Sarah, who was strapped in place opposite him on The Carousel, Rick must have felt like a totally pansy, Sarah thought.



"Hey, Rick," Karen Lewis cried, "that's what I call taking it into the end zone!"



The other girls laughed.



A tear coursed down the quarterback's cheek.



Poor bastard, Sarah thought, knowing how cruel and catty her friends--and she herself--could be. Words, more often than fists, were girls' weapons, and the cheerleaders were well versed in the use of taunts and insults.



"Yeah," Debbie Penn quipped, "I'd say Rick definitely has his backfield in motion!"



The girls hooted and hollered, laughing and giggling.



The tears flowed steadily down Rick's face now. Girls could be so cruel, Sarah thought.



"Am I seeing things?" Coach Ryerson asked Coach Bigg, "or are those fake dicks actually getting bigger?"



Now as thick as carrots, the dildos inside Sarah's and Rick's bottoms were twice the size they'd been originally.



"You aren't imagining anything, Coach; the 'fake dicks,' as you call them, are, in fact, getting bigger. They're designed to increase in girth over time, while microscopic openings up and down the length of their perimeter secrete a clear liquid lubricant at a steady rate."



"How big around do they get?" Coach Ryerson asked.



"Baseball size," Coach Bigg said.



"My God! Isn't that kind of--dangerous?"



"The phalli enlarge at a very slow rate, as they continuously supply their own lubricant, giving the anal sphincter sufficient time to relax and enlarge." She thought of how she'd fisted Sarah, placing her own meaty hand completely inside not only the cheerleader's pussy, but her rectum as well. "You'd be surprised how accommodating an anus can be." She nodded toward the dildo impaling Sarah's cunt, which was already the size of a softball. "A vagina is even more accommodating, of course; the phallus inside her vagina will become the size of a cantaloupe much sooner than the one in her--and Williams'--rectum attain the dimensions of a baseball."



"Come on, Rick," Susan Davis called, heckling the quarterback, "take it like a man!"



The others laughed.



Fifteen minutes later, the artificial penises had swelled the their maximum sizes, expanding inside the teens' assholes and Sarah's cunt to unbelievable dimensions. The cheerleaders still taunted the quarterback. A few hurled insults Sarah's way, too, but, it was clear, the squad preferred to verbally abuse the football player. During games, the athletes always got way more attention than the cheerleaders on the sidelines. Rick's current dilemma gave the girls a chance for a little payback, and they were taking full advantage of the opportunity, even though Rick was, as boys go, a fairly decent person.



"I have a new name for Rick," Cindy Baxter announced. "Rick the Pricked!"



The others guffawed.



Poor Rick! Sarah thought. He was weeping uncontrollably, his frame shaking. His face was beet red and drenched in spittle, mucus, and tears.



While the dildo fucked Rick's ass, sliding back and forth through his gaping anus with the frictionless, fluid motion of the machine of which its mechanism was a part, the sheath enveloping his penis began to ascend and descend over the dangling shaft. Within seconds, his flaccid prick had become stiff and swollen.



"Look at his dick," Jennifer Adams jeered. "His hard-on proves the little faggot loves having that big fake cock up his pansy ass!"



The other girls howled with laughter.



As the sleeve-like membrane continued to slide back and forth, up and down, on Rick's member, Sarah saw his expression go from tormented to rapturous as orgasmic pleasure overwhelmed the humiliation that he was feeling at being butt-fucked--by a machine, no less--in front of the entire cheerleading squad, their leader, and his own coach.



As Sarah watched, the sheath over Rick's penis filled with the thick white semen spurting from his ejaculating cock. The jock looked ecstatic, his humiliation and fear forgotten in the moment of orgasmic bliss as he shot his load.



A second later, however, Rick's joy and Sarah's mortification turned first to fear and then to terror as they heard a high-pitched, whining sound that sounded exactly like an electric drill--and the phalli lodged up their respective assholes spun clockwise, at an incredible speed, inside their assholes.



"The machine's gone haywire!" Coach Ryerson yelled. "Stop it, before it kills those kids!"



Coach Bigg couldn't help but chuckle at her colleague's concern. "There's no need to get hysterical, Coach," she said. "The dildos are completely smooth. There are no rough, chipped, or scarred surfaces, and the continuous supply of lubricant keeps their anuses safe from friction burn."



"Are you certain?"



She chuckled again. "They're both quite safe, I assure you, although, I admit, the look of terror on their faces might have given the girls--and you--a heart attack." To demonstrate the veracity of her claim, she set the dildo that impaled Sarah's pussy spinning in the opposite direction to the one rotating in the cheerleader's anus, so that the one in her cunt, rotating at 1,000 revolutions per second in a counterclockwise direction was countered by the one in her asshole, rotating at the same rate of speed in a clockwise direction.



Coach Bigg laughed, along with her squad, to see the look, first of abject terror, and then of surprised delight, on Sarah's face. The spinning dildos tickled the nerves in her clitoris and vagina as well as those in her anus, together sending a tsunami of overwhelming bliss through the cheerleader's body that was unlike any pleasure imaginable--at least, according to Dr. Fanner, the quality control expert for Spank-o-Matic, the company that had designed and built the machine, to Coach Bigg's specifications. Sarah's out-of-her-mind expression certainly appeared to verify the physicist's claims, Coach Bigg thought.



"Wow!" Rachelle Thomas observed, chuckling, "The coach must think Sarah and Rick shit gold to be drilling up their asses like that!"



The girls roared with laughter.



The spinning phalli rotated so fast that, at first, they seemed to be motionless, but, on closer examination, the observers could see that the dildos were, in fact, twirling around inside the jock's asshole and Sarah's anus and pussy, because the orifices themselves rippled and fluttered as the artificial penises turned inside them, and Sarah's pussy had drenched not only itself, but also her thighs and the platform upon which she knelt.



"Boy, they make my head spin!" Crystal Rogers declared.



The girls chuckled.



"Better your head than your cunt or asshole," Becky James observed.



Again, the cheerleaders snickered and chortled.



Rick had lost any semblance of composure. His red face, streaked with tears, saliva, and mucus, was a mess, Sarah observed, and she could only imagine the indignity, the disgrace, the shame, and the mortification that he must feel. She herself felt ashamed and humiliated, gawked at by her peers, her girlfriend, her coach, and the boys' football coach, but the degradation must be ten, or even a hundred, times worse, she thought, for a guy. After all, Sarah didn't have to maintain the image of being macho that a football player was expected to project, and being fucked in the ass by a spinning mechanical dildo was something a girl could get away with, more or less, but a guy who'd been fucked in the ass, even if only by a motorized dildo, instead of another guy's cock, had been unmanned and feminized.



If anyone ever found out about his ride on The Carousel, his masculinity was a thing of the past, Sarah thought, and she was pretty sure that Coach Ryerson or one of the cheerleaders would make sure that everyone in South Catholic High School learned about his humiliating experience. No one would mention The Carousel specifically, of course, least of all Rick, but there'd be plenty of insinuations about his being a faggot, a pansy, and a queer. Life as a big man on campus was pretty much a thing of the past for pantywaist Rick, the football quarterback who liked to take it up the ass.



Finally, the dildos came to a halt, but Coach Bigg left them in place, deep inside the teens' stuffed orifices.



The cheerleaders' coach spoke to the assembled. "Most powerful emotions can and do motivate people to do what, otherwise, they might never even think of doing. Anger, envy, hatred, jealousy, love, passion, the desire for revenge--all of these emotions are powerful motivators, but love, hatred, and fear, I believe, are the strongest of all. Many of you girls hate me; all of you fear me. As a result, using your hatred and fear to manipulate, control, guide, and train you, I have been able to make of an undisciplined, indifferent, lazy, and unmotivated collection of graceless, clumsy, and inept girls a squad that functions with single-minded determination in an increasingly excellent manner. I have turned my charges into a true squad, a team, dedicated to competition and, more importantly, to winning."



The girls found that they must admit, if only to themselves, that Coach Bigg was right.



"For this reason, I want each and every one of you to understand that The Carousel will remain an integral part of your training, right up to the day of the Nationals. Today, you have been spared a caning so that you were able to witness, and thereby increase, the humiliation of Owens and Williams, but don't make the mistake of thinking that what you saw happen to them today can't or won't happen to each and every one of you, should you screw up. Before we adjourn for the day, Coach Ryerson would like to see a demonstration of The Carousel's more traditional disciplinary capability."

<hr pg="2" />Coach Bigg pressed a button on the machine's instrument panel, and, overhead, the thin bamboo rod quivered above the wedge-shaped section of the platform upon which the quarterback was strapped, on his hands and knees, the dildo still stuffing his gaping anus. In an instant, the cane rose, flashed down, and cut a stroke across the quarterback's bare ass, raising a howl of shock and astonishment from the unfortunate recipient of the blow.



A second strike of the cruel instrument opened another thin red line slightly below the first, and Rick screamed again, trembling, as new tears coursed down his face.



Rapidly, the cane but a blur, another six strokes fell upon the quarterback's buttocks, adding as many new stripes to his red-and-purple ass, the cheeks of which had, in places, begun to ooze rubies of blood. The quarterback's cries became a continuous, undulating wail, a terrible sound that was familiar to the girls, many of whom had, during their own sessions upon The Carousel, produced just such a keening howl.



The blubbering boy's buggered, beleaguered buttocks were a sight, but the cane attached to the machine, as unaware, unfeeling, and resolute as the mechanism that operated it, continued to flail and thrash the quarterback's bottom, striking savagely, with fluid, indefatigable vigor. After another dozen strokes of the bamboo, Coach Bigg halted the apparatus. Rick continued to weep, to moan, and to whimper, his glowing ass afire with agonizing pain.



Although the girls sympathized with the plight of the caned, broken, and humiliated athlete, they also, perversely, felt glad to see someone other than themselves receive the punishment that they'd suffered so many, many times these past few months, under Coach Bigg's cruel, tyrannical reign. Most of the cheerleaders couldn't wait to tell everyone they knew, not about The Carousel, of course--no one could ever know of the existence of the machine except those to whom Coach Bigg herself entrusted the knowledge--but about Rick's homosexual and masochistic tendencies. The Lions' star quarterback, they would tell their friends, was a faggot who not only liked to bend over and take it up the ass, but also enjoyed being spanked, and their friends would, in turn, tell their friends. Before long, the whole school would know, and Rick's reputation as a man's man who was also a lady's man would be irremediably and irretrievably lost forever.



Coach Bigg finally retracted the dildos inside the punished parties' orifices, and, at a nod from her, Marilyn freed first Rick and then Sarah.



"Get dressed," Coach Bigg instructed her cheerleaders. "The day's training session is over."



"You, too, Williams," Coach Ryerson called to Rick, who could hardly stand, let alone dress himself. Nevertheless, perhaps terrified that any failure to comply with his coach's instruction would earn him another immediate session on The Carousel, the athlete managed to pull on his shirt and pants and to stuff his feet into his socks and shoes. He followed the cheerleaders out of the storeroom, limping and grimacing as, with each step, new pain blossomed deep in the ravaged muscles of his well-caned ass.



As the coaches followed their charges, Coach Bigg, pausing to ask her male colleague what offense had incurred his wrath against the butt-fucked, caned quarterback, was told, "He was caught talking to his girlfriend after I'd told the team there'd be no fraternizing, dating, or sexual activity with the opposite sex until after the big game this Saturday at Cole Porter High School."



Coach Bigg nodded. "I've forbidden my girls from seeing or talking to boys, too--altogether. In fact, I've made them pair off with one another, as lesbian lovers."



"That's a great idea!" Coach Ryerson cried. "Like the Spartans! Why didn't I think of that?"



Coach Bigg smiled at him. "It's never too late to add a new prohibition or requirement," she suggested, "for the good of the team."



"No, I don't suppose it is," he agreed. "Say, how about dinner?'



"Sorry, Mike," Coach Bigg said, "but I'm neither heterosexual no bisexual; I'm a gay gal all the way."



* * *



Sarah, hurrying home from the dark campus of her high school, consulted her watch. She had twenty eight minutes to walk to her house, which normally took thirty. If she hurried, she'd make it home on time and avoid another spanking from her dear old dad. She hastened along the tree-lined streets, her asshole and cunt still feeling as if they were crammed full of the artificial cocks that had spun inside her depths, tunneling into her ravaged teenage soul. A new thought terrified her. How long, if ever, she wondered, would it take for her huge, gaping asshole to return to its normal size?

