Volunteered willingly

Trapped inside an incredibly constrained world of squeezing plastic, Stacy had little choice but to breathe in the semen-stained exhalations of her fellow inmate. It was clear the other girl was quietly fuming about being so wrapped up in what she’d thought would or should just be Stacy’s punishment. Yet the teen who’d leapt from a toilet stall to steal a slimy kiss, was fairly sure they’d both known it would only end up something like this. It was strange… to have so accidentally found a rival in her constant search for more lurid and exciting sexual encounters. A girl she’d always thought of as a dull and background character in the great play of highschool life, who turned out to have just as many secret, twisted longings as she did. Here they lay together; bare asses presented toward the great unknown. There was somehow a sisterhood in that… beyond all the petty jabs and jealousies outstanding.

Outside, in the wider world… muffled voices were approaching. Growing clearer and more excited as they neared.

“Wooooooh… Are you kidding me?!”

“This is the ‘special reward’ coach was on about?”

The raucous babble was unmistakably that of a group of boys about their age, drenched in the testosterone-fueled ridiculousness of always trying to speak over one another. Stacy suddenly recalled that Mr Gregory happened to be the teacher who voluntarily coached the school’s basketball team out of hours. She wondered if, perhaps, he was allowed to pull them out of classes for ‘special’ training sessions.

“But… who are they? How did they end up like that? He hasn’t like… kidnapped them or anything... has he?” Came a slightly more nervous voice. Stacy didn’t really recognise any of them, having spent most of her life pointedly ignoring anyone she could loosely categorise as a ‘jock’ ...but she bet Lydia knew every one by name.

“Don’t be stupid.” Chided a replying tone. “Look, there’s a note… Says ‘Well done on last week’s game boys. These two volunteers are massive fans, who want to reward you for all your hard work. They’re a bit shy though, so I’ve only left out the bits that matter…”

“Haha, what a Ledge! Told ya good ol’ Greggers was a pussy magnet!”

“So, what… They’re, like, two sluts from our year who just don’t want us to know it’s them?”

“Oh! I bet it’s fucking Scarlett under there… trying to dodge out on all those fucking football meatheads drooling over her.”

“Yeah… She’d be up for it for sure… Reckon it’s more likely to be your sister, though… Way she’s always giving my shorts the eye.”

The sounds and thumps of a chuckling scuffle bounced off the vault horse, unbalancing the two bound teens therein. Stacy still couldn’t quite get a grip on how many young men there were out there… but already one had taken the step forward of cupping a hand around one of her ass-cheeks and having a squeeze. A sharp hiss from Lydia, followed by an immediate intake of breath, suggested someone on her end had already gone further. Little moans began slipping from the other girl’s lips in precisely the sort of rhythm that a couple of fingers dipped inside her might generate.

“Jesus, look at this!” Laughed a voice from her end of the equation. “This one’s already fucking dripping. She must be really getting off on this, the kinky bitch...”

Stacy heard something like a mewling whimper emerge from her partner in rope… and a further glisten to her eyes. But she knew the look she found there well enough. It was one of that last, doubting moment. Where some deep, insecure part of yourself asked: Is this really what I want? Aren’t I still daddy’s good little princess?

Before letting yourself drown in the free-falling joy of sex and submission.

...Neither of them were princesses anymore.