Principal Andrew Hammond looked at the group of girls standing in his office. Under any other circumstances, they might have been five of the most attractive girls in the senior year—but right now they were red faced, some of them in tears, humiliated and terrified they were about to be expelled.
He turned his computer around to show them the screen. It displayed a video, filmed that morning, of Niemira Belling and Caity Sloan, completely nude, engaged in a slutty lesbian kiss behind the arts building. Niemira was using her left hand to passionately squeeze Caity’s large, naked breasts, and she was humping her visibly-wet pussy against Caity’s thigh with whorish abandon.
The video had been filmed by a young male student named Dietr Gorse, and it had been shared around the entire student body before it had come to Principal Hammond’s attention. He had promptly summoned Niemira and Caity to his office—along with three of their friends: Dawn Baker, Ichika Kimura, and Rowena Gunnach.
“Would you care to explain this, ladies?” he asked.
Caity began to sob, loudly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t expel us.”
“This is hardly the first time I’ve heard your names in connection with slutty behaviour, girls,” said the principal. “Dawn—would you like to explain why the students are calling you ‘Whore-Baby Dawn’?”
Dawn went pale, and said nothing.
He stood up and walked over to the girls, where they stood in a line against the wall of his office.
“Would I be correct in thinking, Dawn, that you are in fact wearing an adult diaper, right now, at school, like some kind of pervert?”
Dawn began to cry, too—so Hammond reached out and undid the clasp of her skirt. It came away, revealing exactly what the principal had suggested. Dawn was wearing a diaper.
And as they all looked at her, they could hear a humming sound coming from within it.
“What is that noise, Dawn?” he asked her.
Dawn just continued sobbing.
The principal grabbed her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to look him in the eyes.
“Answer my questions, young lady, or you will be expelled,” he snarled.
Dawn didn’t want to answer—but the principal’s statement implied that if she obeyed, there was a chance she wouldn’t be expelled, which was more hope than she had had a moment ago.
“It’s a vibrator, sir,” she said, very quietly.
“And where is it?” the principal asked.
She blushed. “In my ass, sir.”
“And do you have anything in your pussy as well, Dawn?” he asked her.
“Yes, sir,” she said—and then, even quieter—“A pacifier. Like for a baby.”
“I know,” said the principal. He released her chin. “And how do I know? Because yesterday Kevin Green came to me and told me that you had come into the boy’s toilets while he was there, and asked him to ‘change your diaper’. And when he put you on the floor and undid your diaper, he saw the vibrator in your ass, and the pacifier in your pussy. And then he watched you take the pacifier out of your pussy and suck on it, while you rubbed your clitoris. He said you were crying, and apologising for being a slut, but that you also said that you couldn’t help yourself.”
Dawn was almost inaudible. “That’s correct, sir,” she whispered.
“He also said that he fucked you,” said the principal. “He said he couldn’t help himself. He was worried you’d call the police and report that he raped you. Is it true, Dawn? Did Kevin fuck you, on the toilet floor, while you were sucking on your pacifier and enjoying a vibrator in your ass?”
“Yes, sir,” whispered Dawn.
“And was it a rape, Dawn?” asked the principal.
“No, sir,” whispered Dawn. “I deserved it. Sluts deserve shame.”
The principal nodded. “That’s what I told him.”
He turned to pretty redheaded cheerleader Rowena. “And you,” he said. “I’m told that yesterday at lunch you did a handstand in the courtyard, wearing your cheerleader uniform. You spread your legs, and you weren’t wearing panties. As I understand it, you encouraged the boys to feel your exposed groin, to push their fingers into it, and then to get garbage from the garbage bins and push it into your cunt.”
Rowena was crying now. “Yes, sir,” she said.
“Why did you do that?” he asked her.
“Because I’m a stupid slut,” she said. “And sluts deserve shame. And my cunt is disgusting and it deserves to be used as a garbage bin.”
“Are you wearing panties right now, Rowena?” asked the principal. And then he leaned in closer and added, “Do you have garbage in your pussy right now?”
Rowena just sobbed, loudly, so the principal reached out and undid her skirt, letting it fall to the ground. Beneath it, Rowena certainly was without panties—although what more specifically drew the eye was the small, empty plastic coke bottle shoved into her pussy, which appeared to be held in place with sticky tape that ran over her groin, between her ass cheeks, and around her waist, creating a kind of harness to keep the discarded bottle inside her..
“You’re disgusting, young lady,” spat the principal, and Rowena’s sobs grew louder.
He turned now to Ichika. “And Miss Kimura,” he said. “Did you really think it was a good idea to seduce one of your female teachers?”
Ichika looked down at the ground.
“And not only that,” continued the principal, “but to film your lesbian encounters with her, without her consent, and then upload that footage to the internet, where your classmates could find it?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Ichika.
“Why did you do it, Ichika?” asked the principal.
“Miss Cavendish was a big-titted lesbian slut,” said Ichika, “and sluts deserve shame. Everyone needed to see her swinging her fuckbags around and licking a student’s fuckhole.”
They certainly had seen that. Principal Hammond had masturbated to it twice before calling Ms Cavendish into his office, and several times afterwards.
He reached out and pulled at Ichika’s skirt, ripping it from her body and letting it fall to the floor like her friends. She, too, was wearing no panties, and unless he missed his guess, she was aroused, despite the humiliated, tearful expression on her face.
“I’ve fired Miss Cavendish, of course,” said the principal. “In exchange for my mercy in not going to the police, she has agreed to work at something less than minimum wage as a private tutor for my 18-year-old son.”
More specifically, she had agreed to regularly fuck the principal’s son—and the principal himself. Her tutoring would consist of teaching the principal’s son how to sexually dominate, humiliate and objectify a woman. Quite a concession, for a lesbian, but he supposed it was better than answering the police’s questions about why she had fucked one of her students.
“Do you regret ruining a woman’s life, Ichika?” he asked her.
And everything about her teary face suggested that she very much did regret it, and that she was crushed with guilt and shame—and yet what she said was, “No, sir. She was a slut, and sluts deserve shame.”
Curious, he thought.
Only six months ago, these girls had been normal students. Certainly they had been pretty, popular, maybe shallow, possibly bitchy—but normal. And now suddenly they had become sluts. Principal Hammond had seen promiscuous students before, and encountered his fair share of cockteases, flipskirts, and tarts. He had enjoyed taking advantage of the most eager and naive of those pretty teen fuckbunnies. But he had never seen something like this. Behaviour so degraded, so humiliating, so wanton—and not just from one girl, but from five.
He came back to Niemira and Caity.
“Caity,” he said. “I assume this slutty display with Niemira was your idea.”
“No!” protested Caity. “I didn’t want to… she made me…”
“Oh, she made you, did she?” said the principal. “Even though I’ve been hearing about you staring at the cheerleaders in the locker room for weeks? Even though it’s common knowledge the students are calling you ‘Dyke Slut’ behind your back?”
Caity went red, and fell silent, tongue-tied.
“Are you telling me, Caity,” said the principal, “that if I confiscate your phone, I won’t find any pictures of naked girls on it? Maybe even girls in this school, taken without their consent?”
Caity’s eyes widened in panic. “No, sir!” she objected. “You can’t confiscate my phone! You don’t understand… you can’t!”
Caity’s fear of losing her phone confirmed something that the principal was beginning to suspect. But he ignored it for now.
“Answer my question, Caity,” he said. “Will I find those images on your phone?”
She was silent—and then, “Yes, sir, you will.”
“What images, Caity?” he asked.
“Photos of the cheerleaders, getting changed,” she said. “You can see their… bodies.”
“You mean their tits and cunts?” asked the principal.
Caity flinched at the harsh language. “Yes, sir.”
“And did they know you were taking these photos, Caity?” he asked.
“No, sir,” she admitted.
“Send me copies of the photos,” said the principal, “and I will allow you to keep your phone.”
Caity pulled out her phone, and complied. Principal Hammond checked his own phone, and he smiled as he saw the first image—a completely nude candid shot of pretty raven-haired Lyla Rourke, bending over and showing her pussy as she pulled clothes out of her gym bag. He would enjoy these pictures later, in private, he thought.
“Do you masturbate to these pictures, Caity?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” said Caity, blushing.
“Then I think that even if Niemira did force herself upon you, it’s clear that you both deserved it, and enjoyed it,” said the principal. “Isn’t that correct?”
Caity was very quiet. “Yes, sir,” she admitted. And then, unprompted, she added, “I’m a disgusting lesbian slut. Girls deserve rape.”
“Correct,” said the principal. And he ripped off Caity’s skirt, leaving her as nude below the waist as her friends.
“And you, Niemira,” he said. “Raping another girl. In public. For boys to watch. You realise how serious this is, don’t you?”
She clearly did. Her whole body was shaking. She was clearly worried she would go to jail. “Yes, sir,” she whimpered.
“The other students call you ‘The Cuntstuffer’, don’t they?” said the principal. “They say you masturbate in public by pushing panties up into your pussy. Is that true, Niemira?”
She blushed. She clearly wanted to argue, or make some clarification—but she had to admit the essential truth of what he was saying. “Yes, sir,” she said.
“Take off your skirt, Niemira,” he told her.
She immediately obeyed, unflinching her school skirt and letting it drop to the floor. Like the other girls, she was wearing no panties, and her pussy was visibly wet.
“Would I be correct in thinking, Niemira,” he said, “that this has something to do with the videogame ‘Candy Girls’, that your teachers report you playing in class?”
The girls looked at each other, worried.
Niemira was the one who spoke. “It’s just a game, sir,” she said. “We like it, because… we’re shallow sluts, and we like things like that. It makes us feel good to play it because… we’re not very smart. We can’t help it, really. Please don’t take it away from us.”
She sounded desperate—far too desperate, for some ordinary videogame.
Principal Hammong had heard rumours about this game—and rumours about girls who played it. He was beginning to think those rumours might be true.
And yet, it didn’t matter. He had these girls in the palm of his hand now. A videogame hardly made a difference.
“Niemira, can you think of any reason why I shouldn’t expel all five of you?” he asked. “And maybe refer this matter to the police?”
Her response was quick—even though her face was filled with shame as she spoke. Shame that she had thought of this, shame that she was proposing it, shame that she would actually do it.
“We could… make it worth your while,” she said, blushing.
“And what does that mean, Niemira?” he asked.
She responded by reaching out and stroking the crotch of his pants with her hand. He felt his cock harden immediately.
“Use your words, Niemira,” he said, harshly.
“We could… fuck you,” said Niemira. “Suck your cock. Lez off for you to watch…”
The other girls looked sick with fear and shame—but they weren’t protesting. It seemed they supported Niemira’s plan.
“Niemira,” said Principal Hammond. “The way you’re going, I’m not sure I can save you. You’re on track to fail your classes—and some of your slutty behaviour at lunch and recess is very public. If you keep doing it, I’m going to have to explain to the other teachers why you’re still enrolled here.”
Niemira clearly hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe we could… do something for the other teachers, too?” she asked.
“You were right before, Niemira,” he told her. “You’re a disgusting slut.”
She looked like she had been slapped. Her hand jerked away from his crotch.
“Even if you were prepared to suck off every teacher in this school, it’s not going to work,” he told her. “Mr Sebbinton is gay. I’m pretty sure Ms Orson and Mrs Dewell aren’t into girls, no matter how seductively you behave. They’re going to demand you be treated like the whores you are, and press for your expulsion.”
Niemira was thinking as fast as she could—desperate for an alternative. Principal Hammond hadn’t said he didn’t want to fuck these girls—only that her specific plan wasn’t workable.
“Maybe you could… move us into a special class,” said Niemira finally. “A special needs class. Because we’re stupid sluts. And it could be right here in your office, with no breaks for recess or lunch. And we come in here every day, and… undress, and make you happy. And then you’d be the only one who saw our behaviour, and the only one responsible for our grades.”
“You’re volunteering to spend the rest of the year being my sex-toys?” he asked. “To avoid expulsion and police involvement?”
Niemira nodded—and so did the other girls.
“You know I wouldn’t actually be doing any teaching?” he said. “You wouldn’t learn anything. It’s unlikely you’ll pass your university entrance exams.”
“We could keep up by studying at home,” volunteered Niemira. And yet, even as she said it, her face told it for the lie it was. These girls weren’t going to study at home. They were going to masturbate, or lez off with each other, or otherwise be led around by their cunts. If they accepted this deal, none of these girls were going on to further education.
The principal didn’t care.
“And I expect you’re going to want to be able to play this ‘Candy Girls’ game when I’m not making use of you?” he asked.
The girls’ faces lit up with joy.
“Yes, please, sir?” they all chorused together.
“Very well,” he said. “It’s a deal.” And with that, he slapped NIemira across the face. “Kneel,” he commanded.
Niemira instantly fell to her knees—whereupon the principal took out his cock, and pushed it against the schoolgirl’s face.
“Suck,” he commanded.
And Niemira did as she was told, sucking obediently, like a good little Candy Girl.
“Rowena, rape Dawn,” he said to the other girls. “Caity, rape Ichika. Whichever of you takes longest to make her partner cry will get her pussy whipped with my leather belt, and whichever of you takes the longest to make her partner orgasm will get the same treatment on her tits. Best get started.”
And he was surprised by how quickly Caity slapped Ichika across the face, and how passionately Ichika moaned with arousal when it happened—almost as if they had been subconsciously rehearsing for this moment….
He looked down at Niemira as he pumped his cock in and out of her sweet teenaged lips. He didn’t know precisely what had turned these girls into sluts, but he was grateful for it. And he knew he was going to enjoy these Candy Girls in every way possible before the year was over.