The First Cheerleader: A Meeting At The Library

I wasn't a competent historian, but I was competent at faking competence.

Earlier in the day, I had sat down to 'study' with Violet. I had fooled her into thinking I knew about the Spanish colonial period by reading questions off notes, and gauging whether or not she had the right answer. If I could simplify my job to that, I might be able to pull this scheme off.

That hinged on having notes to read questions from, however, and at present, I didn't have any. I'd have to make the notes myself. I would be lying if I said I was looking forward to it, but the thought of Violet's blowjobs served as all the motivation I needed to put a spring in my step.

It wasn't until I reached the library that my enthusiasm dimmed. The library's lights were dimmed.

How long had I been with Mrs. Clark? A soft curse escaped my lips as I realized the answer was too long.

The school library wasn't open twenty-four-seven. With few exceptions- the day before a long holiday, for instance- it stayed open for the entire school day, as well as forty-minutes after. It had been an hour since classes had ended, making me twenty-minutes late.

I dithered for a moment. It wasn't like the library was out of the way. I could go home now, arrive early tomorrow, pick up the books, make the notes during lunch, and be ready to go by the time Mrs. Clark announced I was going to be tutoring Violet tomorrow.

Alternatively, it wasn't that late. The librarian- a grouchy old lady- might still be inside. Perhaps she would be willing to make an exception for me. If she wasn't, I could always use the notebook to convince her otherwise.

It wasn't a hard decision. Especially given that dithering would mean I would have to give up my lunch period tomorrow to make a cheat sheet.

I walked up to the glass doors, and peered through them, looking for another person. And I found one- but it wasn't the librarian. From behind, it didn't look like anyone I recognized.

I knocked, trying to get her attention. She turned- and my breath caught in my chest. It was Elizabeth Devoy.

Though she wasn't in her cheerleader outfit at the moment, she was unmistakably one of the ladies that I modified earlier in the day. What was she doing here?

As surprised as I was to see her, she looked just as surprised to see me. Her eyebrows raised, waiting to see what I'd do. I repeated my earlier motion, knocking on the glass window, and for added emphasis, I mouthed, 'Can you let me in?'

Elizabeth glanced around and saw the same thing I did. The library was closed, and there was no one around. She looked unsure, but her indecision didn't last long. Sadly, the decision she came to wasn't the one I had been hoping for.

She turned back towards the bookshelf; a move that confused me. Hadn't I made all the cheerleaders nicer? Perhaps she hadn't realized what I wanted?

I tapped the glass again and Elizabeth continued working. Irritated, I tapped harder. Why was she ignoring me?

The third time was the charm. Elizabeth gave up on working and marched towards the door. I was astounded to see that an irritated look covered her face as well. Her behavior was bewildering, and my confusion only heightened when she snapped out an annoyed, "What?"

"I was hoping I could come in." I attempted to give her a winning smile only for it to wane in face of her glare. This hostility didn't seem compatible with the pure personalities I gave the cheerleaders.

Elizabeth moved slightly forward, taking up the entirety of the doorway. "Library's closed. I was hoping you'd go away if I ignored you, but you weren't getting the message."

"Then why are you allowed in?"

"I'm a volunteer library monitor." She didn't say anything else, but she didn't need to. A glance behind her and some minor critical thinking let me figure out what was happening.

Panther High was a high school, and high school students weren't known for their organizational skills or sense of responsibility. I glanced over her shoulder and saw vast amounts of textbooks strewn about chaotically, left there by the last student that had used them. If she had to put all that back in its rightful place, no wonder she was in a bad mood.

Testing my assumption, I asked, "Shouldn't Mrs. Valkner be helping you clean this up?"

"She had to leave early today. Her granddaughter had a dentist appointment."

I let out a quiet 'ah' of acknowledgment. A pause and then, "I promise I won't add to the mess. I just need to grab a book on the American Revolution and then I'll be right out. I Promise."

"I don't think that will be possible. The checkout machines are already closed for today." Elizabeth didn't even try to look apologetic as she asked, "Can't you come back tomorrow?"

I could always do that, but I didn't want to. "What if I helped you clean up?" I counter-offered.

Elizabeth looked stunned. "Are you... arguing with me?"

I didn't think that the incredulous tone was necessary. "Just trying to cut a fair deal. If you're not up for negotiating, just say so and I'll go."

"No, no. That's not- no." The sense of bemusement was back as I watched Elizabeth trip over her words. "I was just surprised. People don't normally argue with me. You do know who I am right?"

What was she- oh. Nobody will approach them or allow themselves to be in a sexual or romantic relationship with them because they all believe themselves to be unworthy and undeserving of it.

When I had written that command, I had intended to keep anyone from asking the cheerleaders out before I could. I hadn't thought through the implications of my commands. If everyone believed that they were unworthy of the cheerleaders' presence, then it would stand to reason that most wouldn't argue with things they said.

I imagine that if Elizabeth requested someone leave, that person would scamper away in a hurry. It must have been a change of pace for me to stand my ground and negotiate.

Realizing that she was still waiting for an answer, I gave her one. "Elizabeth, right? I'll admit I wasn't expecting to see you here. Why is a cheerleader working in the library?"

"We don't have cheer practice until after tutoring, so I have this hole in my schedule between the end of class and the start of practice. Gina suggested we spend the time volunteering for different things, and I chose to help out here."

I wondered at that. I had made the cheerleaders nicer using the notebook. Were they volunteering as a consequence of that change, or was Elizabeth working at the library in the pre-change world as well?

"So all of you are volunteering? How have I not noticed this before?"

"Do you go home directly after school ends?"

I had the grace to look embarrassed- which made Elizabeth laugh. "I thought as much. There are only a dozen of us and we all volunteer in different parts of the school. If you go straight home, you wouldn't catch us."

That answered that. One or two might be possible, but I doubted all the cheerleaders would have been volunteering without my commands.

Part of me wanted to ask her where the rest of the cheerleaders volunteered, but even in my head, that sounded creepy. Besides, looking for them could be a fun scavenger hunt. As a glance at the clock told me, it wouldn't be today, however. "Didn't club hours start twenty minutes ago?"

"Yeah. This is taking longer than I thought and I missed practice today. Put me in a bad mood. Sorry if I took it out on you."

"No problem," I shrugged. "So about the book..."

"Still can't let you in." This time Elizabeth did look apologetic. "All the machines are closed and without Mrs. Valkner here, I can't start them. Not even if you help me out with the mess."

My eyes narrow. So that won't do for an exchange, but where there's a will there's a way. And in this case, I had already done the groundwork earlier today.

Panther High cheerleaders are extremely **** to be in a romantic or sexual relationship with someone. It doesn’t matter who it is or what the relationship entails because they will accept it regardless.

"What if I help you out in a different way?"

"What do you mean?"

My hands slipped to her ass and squeezed while I gave her a lecherous smirk that disguised the worry that lingered underneath. There were no witnesses and the library- Panther High in general- didn't invest in security cameras.

If she didn't react poorly, everything would be fine. If she did, I should have enough time to use my notebook to get myself out of sexual harassment charges.

"How long has it been since you got fucked?" My hands slipped lower, beneath her pencil grey skirt, and caressed her inner thigh. "It's been too long, hasn't it?"

She stepped back- and my heart sank. I assumed that I had been too bold and now I was going to have to use the notebook to make her forget about this. My hand was about to go for my backpack when her hand wrapped around my palm, keeping me from moving.

My eyes widened. I hadn't considered this possibility. If she kept me immobilized, I couldn't write, and if I couldn't write, then I was in trouble. If she knew basic self-defense and broke my arm, I wouldn't be able to write in a while and might even face long-term consequences for this.

My speculation on how this could go wrong was cut off as she tugged me towards her, pulling me into the library proper before kicking the door closed behind us. Before I could process the information and embark on a new spiral of worst-case scenarios, she leaned in and kissed me.

I was taken aback by the need in her movements- how ferociously her lips attacked my lips, how desperately her hips gyrated against my hips, how her hands gripped my hands like how a man about to sinking in quicksand might grasp an overhanging branch.

Elizabeth's kiss reminded me of Violet's blowjob- and I realized that my commands had a second unintended consequence. Panther High cheerleaders are extremely **** to be in a romantic or sexual relationship with someone. I had written it in that manner because I wanted it to be easy to get them into my bed. I hadn't thought about how that desperation would translate in bed.

Elizabeth was kissing me like there was no tomorrow- and gripping me like I might bolt at any moment. Upon realizing how much she needed me- and how much power I had over her- I committed to abusing it slightly.

I pulled away. Elizabeth took a few seconds before realizing that I wasn't taking a breath break before coming back in. Her eyes widened in panic and her grip got tighter, but she didn't chase.

Good.

"Do you accept my deal?" Even as I asked the question, I was considering the differences in the deal I offered initially and the one I was getting.

I had anticipated that the situation would unfold as it did with Mrs. Clark. In both cases, the females had something I wanted and I was willing to exchange sex for. Consequently, I had been expecting that Elizabeth would call the shots and dictate what we did in the moment, with me modifying anything I didn't like after the fact by using the notebook.

I hadn't anticipated that Elizabeth would be this **** to have sex with me, nor had I anticipated how much power over her this would give me.

One thing was for certain: I wasn't going to be eating her out.

"Of course- I mean, I do." If Elizabeth had any experience with guys in a situation like this, my commands would have erased it. It left her unsure of how to act or what to do when she had time to think. "Are we- are we going to be doing more?" Her voice sounded hopeful, and I hated disappointing cute girls.

At the same time, I was tired. Mrs. Clark had made me work for my grade boost. I had to kiss her, and then I had to eat her out, and then I had to thrust into her. She had made me do all the work.

I deserved to be pampered too. "You want to use my body for pleasure? Go ahead. If I like what you do, I might even be up for a repeat performance sometime." I kept my tone nonchalant while shrugging off my pants. Then I leaned against a table and waited, my part done.

Elizabeth didn't start very strongly. Instead of acting, she opted to stare, eyes fixated on my member, watching it bob in the air. Zero out of ten for her opener.

To her credit, she got over it quickly. Dropping to her knees, she opened her mouth and plunged.

I wasn't sure how to rate her blowjob skills. The most obvious person to compare her to was Violet, who had given me a blowjob during lunch- but it was a difficult comparison to make.

For starters, Violet had been aware that she was sucking my dick, but hadn't been aware that she was giving me a blowjob. That was an odd sentence even in this context, but it made sense. Violet's suckosis resulted in her sucking my dick like it was a lollipop- and just like it was a lollipop.

The act was sensual to me because I was aware of what she was doing, but it wasn't sensual to her. Consequently, Violet's goal wasn't to give me pleasure by sucking my dick. It was to suck my dick because she needed to suck something.

Violet was still fantastic thanks to a lifetime of experience- she never nicked my dick, for instance- but it was different. My favorite point of her blowjob was the first few seconds. She had to take her mouth off my cock to answer my questions and when she put it back in, she would suck with all her might to make up for the lost time.

Those few seconds were amazing. It felt like she was trying to suck my life- and cum- out of my dick. And then she would slow down the tempo and **** into a still glorious but less intense blowjob.

Elizabeth was completely different. She had no skill.

She hadn't ever had a boyfriend, she had never given a blowjob, probably never even practiced her technique. I doubted her friends- and fellow cheerleaders- had ever given her advice on how to properly suck a guy off either. On skill and experience, she would rate far lower than Violet.

But in terms of enthusiasm, Elizabeth blew Violet out of the water. She had picked up on my hint that I might be willing to host a repeat if I enjoyed this. Consequently, she wasn't acting to get the most out of this one session, but instead working to secure future sessions.

She was aware that this was a blowjob and that the goal was to cause me pleasure, and she acted on that knowledge. Elizabeth maintained as much eye contact as possible- it broke every time she plunged, but whenever she pulled back, her eyes found me again. It took me a minute to realize she was observing my reactions; checking for what I liked.

I considered trying to restrain myself, but that was counter-productive. I wanted Elizabeth to become better at pleasing me, and so I gave her my honest reaction, groaning loudly when she did something right, and less loudly when she wasn't doing as well.

It seemed to work to an extent. There was still only so deep she could go before having to pull back, and on occasion, her jaw relaxed and her teeth nicked me, but both of those were excusable.

Elizabeth might be doing some things wrong, but she was also doing a lot of things right. She was putting her all into it, for one, sucking with all her might. What Violet did only occasionally, Elizabeth did constantly. Elizabeth also bobbed back and forth faster; her athleticism playing a role here.

And it felt good. I didn't try to increase 'good' to 'wonderful' or 'amazing' or 'mind-blowing' despite the temptation. I didn't grip Elizabeth's head and guide her like I might do with some of my other girls. I didn't face-fuck her or **** her to gag on my member.

My hands remained stubbornly attached to the edge of the table I was leaning against, but not out of a sense of altruism. Pleasuring me was Elizabeth's trial, and she would either fail or succeed on her own merits. Interfering would ruin the test.

I regretted my decision as she pulled back before I came. As my rising orgasm faded, I was left to ask, "Why did you stop?" I don't think I managed to hide my irritation.

"I don't have you forever and if you cum, it'll take you a while to get hard again. If I don't get to see you again... well, I want to get rid of my virginity while I can. I might not get another opportunity."

Mentally, I get rid of a few more points from her performance review. Putting her needs before mine- that just won't do.

But I don't say anything. Once more, this was her show. I'd save my commentary until she was done.

For the same reason, I don't say anything when she pulls me off the desk and lays me flat on the floor. I don't say anything when she removes her panties. I don't say anything when she clambers atop me and lines my dick with her cunt.

I do groan in time with her moan as she lowers herself, however. It was astonishing just how wet she was. Mrs. Clark hadn't been this wet- and that was after I had eaten her out and while I was fucking her.

Elizabeth doesn't have a hymen- her position as a cheerleader took care of that. All those splits and kicks took care of it long ago. The only evidence of her virginity, besides her words and my command, was her tightness.

Her walls clamped around me like a velvet vice, as she slowly moved up and down, trembling slightly as she did. I imagined part of it was because of the new sensations that having someone inside her was causing and part of it was because she was fighting gravity.

She pauses once she gets me inside her, and I let her have her moment. Losing her virginity must have felt like an accomplishment thanks to my changes. It helps that she doesn't take long to start moving.

Elizabeth starts with little bounces, a half-inch up, followed by a half-inch down. These bounces gradually get deeper, but never more than an inch-and-a-half. Hymen or no, Elizabeth is still a virgin, and whenever she feels like I'm in too deep, she goes back up.

I could have made her go deeper. She would have accepted that. All I would have to do was grab her thick hips and pull downwards.

I don't. My arms remain fixed to my side once more as I let her go through her trial without my interference.

Interfering wasn't necessary at any rate. Of the two of us, one was a virgin and the other had been brought to the brink by an enthusiastic blowjob. Both of us approached the brink at rapid speed and held there at pleasurable equilibrium until an observation pushed me over the edge.

Elizabeth was still dressed.

Normally this would be a demerit. Part of the allure of being ridden cowgirl was being able to see your partner's breasts jiggle with every bounce. With the white shirt and bra- presumably- underneath, Elizabeth's pair didn't. I couldn't even see her cunt beneath her plaid skirt because she hadn't taken it off when she did away with her panties.

The reason that this aroused me instead of turning me off was that Elizabeth managed to look like a wanton whore despite that.

Her tongue lolled out occasionally, in between her moans. Each time, it was accompanied by a dribble of spit which would trail down her chin, before flicking onto her top, ruining it. Her skirt, which tingled my pelvis every time she came down, was also starting to show signs of our deeds. Our combined juices were staining the garment, darkening the skirt at certain points.

It only got worse when I did cum. The alien sensation of my warm seed shooting into her triggered Elizabeth's own orgasm and left her with a valuable lesson: Riding someone cowgirl meant that gravity was constantly working against you.

The only thing that had been holding Elizabeth up were her legs, and in the throes of our mutual climax, hers turned to jelly. Unable to hold herself up, she was sent tumbling down my pulsating cock, and in those final moments, I was sheathed fully inside her sensitive tunnel.

Judging by her high-pitched scream- one that spoke of pleasure and pain in equal measure- Elizabeth didn't enjoy this as much as I did, nor did she recognize it as the blessing it was. When just the tip of my dick had been buried in her pussy, my cum would bubble up before leaking out of her and making a mess everywhere. Her pussy, my waist... her skirt. It would make others suspect that she had gotten fucked.

Properly lodged within her, my cum didn't escape quite so easily, the white strands making their way up her love tunnel and staying there. It would take a while for them to trail back down, and by the time that they did, Elizabeth would have her panties back on. Letting the cum soak that garment was much safer.

As the seconds ticked by, Elizabeth didn't move. By that, I meant that she didn't rise- which I would have expected her to do if she had the energy for it- or collapse forward, which I would have expected her to do if she was exhausted.

"Are you going to get up?"

Elizabeth blinked blearily, "Oh. Um, I was hoping we could maybe enjoy the afterglow. If that's alright?"

I sighed. In the last few hours, I'd gotten Violet to suck me off and I'd fucked Mrs. Clark. Once I got home, I'd probably fuck some more before bed. By contrast, this was Elizabeth's first- and possibly only- time. The two of us weren't giving this situation the same amount of value.

I could understand why she valued this so highly, but at the same time: "We just had sex in the library. We're not allowed to have sex in the library. Do you want to increase the odds of us getting caught?"

Elizabeth glanced around, evidently forgetting where we were. With a look of dawning surprise, she scrambled off me, a few more flickers of cum dripping out of her. She came to a stop next to me.

Now free of her weight, I made my way over to my pants and started to pull them up. Behind me, I could hear her call out, "We had to cut this short, but maybe we could do this again sometime? You can come over to my place whenever."

I considered her offer. Truth be told, Elizabeth was fairly average for someone exceptional. She was exceptional in all the ways I had ordered her to be.

She was exceptionally beautiful because I made all the women of the Panther High Cheer Team beautiful. She was helpful and kind, volunteering her free time to help in the library, but only because I made the cheerleaders helpful and kind. She was a virgin pure because I had made the cheerleaders virgins.

She wasn't interesting. In all likelihood, she had been a wallflower before my commands took hold, and without anything to influence them, she became a generic amalgamation of my commands.

There were a dozen cheerleaders in total. Not counting Elizabeth, that meant I could play around with eleven more cheerleaders, some of whom I thought was prettier. At the very least, they would likely be more interesting.

Between the choice of continuing to dump my loads into Elizabeth's eager twat or fucking all her cheerleader friends, my choice was clear. At the same time, my choice wasn't binary. I could do both.

I hedged my bet. "You work here, right? If I want a repeat performance, I know where to look for you." And that was that. She didn't have any choice but to accept my verdict.

I grabbed the book I came here to pick up and left her to clean up alone.

---

Notes: If you want a picture of Elizabeth (Pictured: Skylar Vox) in a cheerleader outfit, here you go:

It'll be coming up in the story later. If the story continues that long.

In other news, this chapter was commissioned by Barrion Willis for February 2021. Assuming no one else wants to sponsor chapters for this story, and assuming he decides to keep sponsoring chapters for this story, you'll probably see another one in March 2021. Until then, take care!

Link to my patreon: patreon.com/malkuthze