Karishma gets what's coming to her

As instructed, thirty minutes before game time, you text Rebecca.

You: made my choice.

Rebecca: who is it??

You: guess.

Rebecca: give me a hint

You: biggest bitch on the squad….

Rebecca: Karishma!

You: bingo!!

Rebecca: good choice. I’ll get everything ready.

You salivate over the chance to get **** against your former crush. Your nose is still sore from when Karishma stomped your face during gym, and you still haven’t forgiven her for humiliating you when you were both in middle school. Over the past month, you’ve fantasized about what That Night would have been like if Karishma had discovered you and Rachel. (Author’s note: See what Karishma is capable of on this branch of the earlier story.) Now it’s time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

You almost forget that for this to work, you have to flash the school, too…

--

You’re completely distracted during the entire first half of the football game. You can’t keep your eyes off the cheerleaders, especially Karishma’s firm boobs and tight abs. You’re so nervous, you almost run to the bathroom when the halftime show is announced and the Spartan Chariot (which is the bus Rebecca told you about) pulls onto the field. The announcer rattles off some uninteresting details about the new and used car dealership and then declares that it’s time for this year’s Spartan Champions to be announced.

The voice over the loudspeaker says, “This year’s winners will get an all-expenses-paid dinner at Luigi’s Italian Restaurant, including a Spartan Limousine to pick them up and take them home. These two young people are certainly very lucky!” The crowd applauds in anticipation, each person hoping it’s them. “When your name is called, please step into the Chariot to don your victory outfits!”

And then it happens. It was inevitable, but it still gives you a thrill. Karishma’s name is called first and yours second, and the crowd supportively cheers for the two of you as you both make your way to the Chariot. You walk onto the field from the stands, and Karishma, who was already much closer, meets you at the door.

“Fuck this!” she spits at you. “There is no goddamn way I’m going to Luigi’s with you.”

“I’m heartbroken,” you retort.

She sniffs at you dismissively. “Let’s get this over with.”

You follow Karishma onto the bus. It’s a luxury model, with tables and couches and even some small rooms built in toward the back. A lanky kid with glasses meets you near the driver’s seat. His nametag says “Simon,” and he can’t be more than a year or two older than you and Karishma.

“Congratulations,” he says flatly. “On behalf of Spartan Cars, I’m pleased to offer you a voucher for dinner at Luigi’s and one night’s rental of a Spartan Limousine.”

Karishma throws out her hand. “Just give them to me. I’ll take the prizes,” she demands.

Simon looks startled. “Um, I can’t do that yet.”

“Why the fuck not, douchebag?” You marvel at Karishma’s ability to spew vitriol at every person she meets.

“Um, you’ve got to do the stunt first,” he says. “You know, you put on the togas in the back and then do the routine with the cheerleaders.”

“Fuck that,” Karishma says. “That routine is lame.”

“Hey, come on,” you chime in. “It could be fun.” She glares at you. “And listen, after we’re done, you can go ahead and have the prize.”

“Really?” she says with suspicion.

“Yeah. I hate Italian food,” you lie.

“Fine,” she says.

Simon points you to the back of the bus, where two small closets are set into the walls. Each one bears a toga—the same trick model that Rebecca showed you earlier.

You call back over your shoulder, trying to sound nonchalant. “Hey Simon! We need to be naked under here, right? So the ad photos turn out well?”

“Um, yeah, that’d be great!” Simon shouts. "We don't want to see your street clothes ... or your uniform ... under the toga."

“Fuckers,” you hear Karishma snort as she enters her cubicle. But you can also hear the rustle of clothes as she undresses on the other side of the thin wall.

You step into your stall and take a breath and take off your clothes. You remember how to slide the straps over your shoulders, and the cloth hangs loosely off your body. The buttons in the back remain unclasped, and you know Karishma’s are the same.

You step out of the stall and see Karishma there as well. Your heart catches in your throat. Her brown skin is faintly visible through the thin, white fabric, and you can barely make out the contours of her C-cup breasts as she faces you. In face, the loose armholes of the toga reveal a tantalizing glimpse of side-boob as she continues to struggle with the buttons behind her.2

Thinking fast, you say, “Hey, Karishma, can you help me with these buttons? I can do yours if you’re having trouble, too.” Without waiting for an answer, you turn your back to her.

She sighs an exasperated “Whatever” and, indeed, she forcefully buttons your toga. “Fuck,” she says. “These are hard to get in.” One thing you know about Karishma is that she’s very strong, and you actually hear the fabric strain as your buttons pop into place.

“Thanks!” you call. “Can I help you?”

“Fine,” she says, turning her back to you. You’ve seen Karishma several times in her underwear over the past four weeks, but you haven’t been this close to her. Her bare back plunges beneath the delicate cloth, and you know her ass is only a few inches out of sight.

Not wanting to earn another pummeling to the nose, you start to fasten her buttons. You remember the process clearly from Rebecca’s house and wedge the buttons edge-wise into the fabric. It seems secure, but you know that it will pop open if any significant **** is applied.

“There you go,” you say. “Ready for this?”

Without a word, Karishma walks away from you and brusquely pushes past Simon. You shrug and smile at the clerk as you make your way off the bus as well.

The stadium of your fellow classmates and their parents erupts into applause as you emerge from the Chariot. You follow Karishma over to her peers, and the cheerleaders begin their rousing routine. You’re swirled, twirled, and spun around by the gorgeous girls you’ve been ogling from afar, the Spartan Cars photographers snapping wildly.

You and Karishma are lifted off the ground, held aloft by the cheerleading squad. Your cock sways between your legs, and you can’t help but notice Mia and Lisa grinning as they stare up your toga right at your junk. Rebecca is underneath you as well; in fact, she’s perfectly positioned precisely between you and Karishma, standing with her arms raised.

The cheerleaders holding your bare feet start to lift you up and down, and you think they’re about to toss you. Right before they do, you feel Rebecca’s hand on the hem of your toga. All at once, you’re launched into the air, but Rebecca is still holding the cloth. You prepare for the cold air against your bare skin, but what you can’t predict is that the toga doesn't actually come undone. As your feet launch forward, your shoulders are pulled back by the cloth. You land with a forceful thud on your ass, the toga pulled up over your face, and you realize as you gasp for air that you’re helplessly flashing your classmates.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck! you silently shout, winded and gasping for breath. If you had been relieved that the video stream of That Night hadn’t broadcast your bare ass to the whole school, that relief drains out of you as hundreds of cameras capture your full monty on display.

You wonder if all this was worth it as you lie prone on the cool grass. Your penis is flaccid, of course, and your legs are sprawled awkwardly in front of you. You can’t even see who’s looking at you since the toga material is covering your (now blushing) face.

You finally manage to catch your breath and pull the toga off your head and back over your loins. You roll onto your side and start to stand up, and that’s when you see Karishma streaking toward the Chariot. The other cheerleaders are jeering as she runs, her strong legs deliciously squeezing her tight ass as her firm tits bounce back and forth. Now that your own moment of embarrassment has started to fade, you can start to relish her delightful predicament.

You start to make your own way to the bus, but she’s much faster than you. As you approach, you see her shouting at Simon, who stares, dumbfounded, at the naked teenager in front of him. The din of the crowd is deafening, but as you approach the bus door, you can finally hear their “conversation.”

“—asshole! I said open the goddamn door! I’m going to fucking kill you if you don’t let me in there right now!”

You can’t help but smile as your eyes drink in Karishma’s smooth skin, her bare ass, her brown pubic hair poking around the hand she uses to cover her pussy in vain. She reaches for Simon’s shirt, exposing her beautiful tits, and the rage that contorts her face only deepens your pleasure. She grabs him as you arrive.

“Sorry, man, the togas fell off,” you say, and Karishma—not letting go of Simon—wheels to look at you.

“Get us the fuck on that bus!” Karishma shouts.

“What do you expect me to do?” You smile and shrug, delighting in the fact that you’re clothed and she’s not.

“So OK, hey, wait a second and calm down please,” Simon sputters. “I’ve got my keycard right here.” Karishma glares at him and releases him, covering her breasts again while he reaches into his pockets. An eternity slogs past while he fishes for his card, and you pass the time by watching Karishma’s chest heave with mortified embarrassment. Her leg jerks impatiently against the ground, and she occasionally looks at the crowd of high school students (and parents) who continue to stare at her.

“Oh, of course!” Simon shouts as he reaches up to his neck and pulls on a cord hanging around his neck. “Here it is.” Simon’s ID emerges from inside his jacket, and he bends down as he holds the card against a sensor next to the door, which gracefully swings open. Karishma rushes inside, giving you one last glorious glimpse of her ass, and you and Simon exchange sly smiles.

You step onto the bus and notice that Karishma has already disappeared inside her stall. You quickly change into your clothes and emerge to find Karishma accosting Simon.

“Give me the fucking prizes and let me out of here,” Karishma demands. Simon catches your eye and you nod; he gives her the dinner coupon and limo voucher, and she storms off the bus.

“Thanks, man,” you say, adding, “It was worth it.”

He grins at you and says, “Have a good night.”

Oh, I will, you think, recalling Rebecca’s promised reward that still lies in store.