Cheers to You! - Part One (Commission)

Thanks to our lovely Gold-Tier patron Samantha for commissioning this one! Expect a conclusion next month. :-)

Shit. Transferring in the middle of the term sucks ass, y'know?

I mean, c'mon! Here I am, the hottest and most popular girl on my old cheer squad, and I'm being forced to move in with this loser of a senior, Tiffany—all because my folks think this is a better college than where I was. This dorm looks like an freaking dump. Tiffany dresses like an idiot. I don't know any of the new kids here, which honestly is just fine by me, okay? I bet they're all nerds and losers. I mean, there's, like, not even a sorority here to hang out with! What is this place, a convent or something?

Honestly, what the fuck is a girl like me supposed to do?

Apply for the cheer squad here, for one thing. I mean, I guess this place doesn't do half bad with sports, after all. That's why I'm dressed like this, duh! Yeah, I'm heading off to practice in an hour—y'know, just to introduce myself, let 'em know Alesha's in town and ready to rock. Besides, there's always the chance for me to hook up with some super-hot guy after a game. Mmm, now that might be fun! Just so he takes me back to his place or somewhere else. Anywhere but this godforsaken hellhole of a dorm.

Let's poke around. I'm bored just waiting here for practice to start, and Tiffany is off studying in the library or something. I wonder... what does that nerd actually have in here, anyway? Probably just bunches of her mom's old clothes. Hah, and maybe a Bible or two? And some knitting, definitely. She's so uncool...

Oh, god, that's hideous! Who ever told her that plaid was a look? And since when are shortalls in fashion? Hell-loo, the seventies called—they want their shit back, girl! Ugh, what the heck? Looks like she goes as a school girl for Halloween? Lame—and kinda creepy, not gonna lie. Eww, she's got, like, bunches of those outfits. Like, oh my god, right?

Wonder what's in her dresser?

Of course it's underwear, and ugly stuff too. It's like she hasn't even heard of Victoria's Secret, right? Wait, are those Hello Kitty panties? What the hell? Oh my fucking god, they are! This girl actually wears kids' underwear still? I knew she was an absolute loser...

Um, what? What the fuck? Oh my god, she's got handcuffs in here. No shit, they're actually handcuffs. Stupid pink ones too, but still! She may not be as much of a loser as I thought... And a gag, too? No way! Look at this ball gag! Holy fuck, I wonder if she actually uses it?

Well this is getting spicy! Let's see what else she has, shall we?

No. Fucking. Way. What the hell are these? Are these- Oh my god. Are they diapers? They- they actually are! Look at this. They're giant-ass baby diapers! Pink and everything, with, like, stupid princesses and shit on them? Ewww!!! Like, what the hell? Do you think she actually wears them? Like, for real?

I don't know what's going on. But what I do know is that I'm getting pics of all this shit!

What? Listen: this chick is freaky. She's snobby, and lame, and uncool, and she doesn't even want to hang out with me. I think it's time she learns that you gotta make friends if you don't want to end up on their bad side. So yeah... I'm laying this shit out and getting pics of everything. Never know when you might need a nice little bit of dirt on someone...

Gag? Check. Cuffs? A-check. Creepy-ass diapers? Oh, yeah: check, check, and-

"Alesha?!"

Fuck. 

"What the hell are you doing? Who gave you permission to go through my stuff?" Tiffany's back, her backpack slung over one shoulder. And only now do I notice that it's got a stupid Hello Kitty design on it.

"I- um- well- I was just-" "Snooping through my stuff, hmm? Violating my privacy?" "Girl, listen, I wasn't-" She cuts me off short. "I see exactly what you're doing. Taking pics of all my special toys, I see? Let me guess: probably going to post them all over Instagram, right? Just to poke fun at me and embarrass me in front of everyone?"

I may not be completely in the right here, fair enough. But I'll be damned if I don't go down without a fight. "Listen. You're a sick fuck, Tiffany. Everybody deserves to know what kind of weird shit you have here, okay?" I feel my heart pounding with adrenaline, but press on with my intimidation. The best defense is a good offense, right? "Hah, I bet your boyfriend would love to see how fucked up you are. What, you think he'd actually be okay with having a girlfriend who has diapers in her dresser? Ooh, I bet you'd love if he treated you like his little baby, wouldn't you? Change your shitty diapers and everything?"

Tiffany turns pale with anger. "Oh my god, you little bitch!" She takes a step toward me, and I instinctively retreat. She's kind of a big chick, after all, and I'm not exactly the tallest. "You dare to try to blackmail me, you piece of shit? I don't think you realize what you've just done..."

And then before I know it, I'm on the floor. Maybe I tripped. Maybe she knocked me over. But whatever the case, she's on top of me, her weight pressing me and my brand-new cheering outfit into the shabby dorm carpet. "I know exactly how to treat a little brat like you, Alesha," she's saying, and even as I struggle I feel her pulling my hands behind my back... then the soft grip of those hideous pink cuffs closing around each wrist.

"Hey! Get off me, you stupid cu-" No! Her hands are slipping over my mouth, stifling my screams and squeals of protest. I catch a glimpse of a gag out of the corner of my panicked eye—the very same gag I've just snapped a picture of. And then Tiffany is jamming it between my teeth, yanking it tight, the straps cutting into the sides of my mouth as she forces it back even further into my mouth...

Tiffany is one strong bitch. I don't know how it happens, but within what seems like mere seconds she's seated on the bed, and I'm upended over her knee. My crisp new uniform is getting rumpled, and I'm flailing, and then I feel her fingers pulling down the soft spandex that until now has been hugging my ass. God, what is this bitch going to do? I have to escape, keep her from touching me-

The first smacks on my bare ass set me yelping and gurgling into my gag.

"You want to play hardball, honey? I'll give you hardball," Tiffany is growling. I'm writhing, trying to escape the flurry of blows that keep stinging my ass, setting it afire with pain and humiliation. Fuck, this chick is serious! I want to cry out that I'm sorry, that I promise to leave her alone, that I'll do anything as long as she stops and lets me go... But the gag turns my pleas into nothing but pathetic moans and babble.

When she finally stops, I'm sobbing with mingled humiliation and relief. Finally. Maybe she'll let me go. I'll get to explain, to beg forgiveness, to tell her I'll never bug her again. Maybe she'll be content with having set me straight this once...

And then I see her reaching for a little box under her bed. Within seconds, I feel a greasy, rubbery tip of something slipping firmly up between my ass cheeks and into- you know-

Naturally I whimper and struggle. But it's only once I feel it slip out of me and my spandex pulled back up around my stinging ass that Tiffany—finally—lets me scramble to my feet.

Oh, but the glint in her eye is so unsettling. And as she squarely meets my frightened gaze, I begin to wonder if this is only the beginning of something much, much worse...

(To be concluded!)